"Aizen?"
Hearing his subordinate's report, Captain Akira narrowed his eyes—just slightly.
He'd expected this. With his combat prowess surging at a rate even the Gotei 13 couldn't ignore, it would've been strange if Aizen hadn't taken notice. Whether to observe, co-opt, or eliminate him—Aizen had surely already chosen his course.
Will this meeting serve me?
Akira weighed the question for only a heartbeat.
Aizen Sōsuke was dangerous—undeniably so. But Akira had no reason to fear him. Not yet. He'd made certain never to witness Kyōka Suigetsu's release; not once had his eyes met that blade's transformation. Without Complete Hypnosis, Aizen was formidable—but not invincible. And Akira knew his own strength. Against a pre-Hōgyoku Aizen? He held the advantage.
"Let him in."
Moments later, Aizen stepped into the chamber, calm as a still pond. They seated themselves opposite one another on the tatami, steam curling from untouched cups of tea.
"Captain Akira," Aizen began, voice smooth as polished silk, "you live up to every whisper I've heard. In person, you're even more impressive."
"Flattery doesn't suit you, Captain Aizen," Akira replied, face unreadable. "If we're comparing prodigies, Hitsugaya's raw talent may well eclipse mine."
Aizen gave a gracious nod. "You're all extraordinary. I, by comparison, am merely… diligent."
There it is again—the humble mask. Akira had long since tired of it.
"Spare us both the pleasantries," he said flatly. "Why are you here?"
Aizen's smile didn't waver. "A courtesy call, nothing more. Though…" He tilted his head slightly. "If you're willing, perhaps a brief sparring match? Shikai only—a friendly exchange between captains."
As if I'd fall for that.
Engaging Aizen—even under "rules"—was suicide. The moment Akira looked at Kyōka Suigetsu's release, he'd be trapped. No conditions, no safeguards, could undo that.
"I decline." Akira's voice left no room for negotiation. "If that's all, you may leave."
For the briefest instant, Aizen's composure cracked—less than a ripple, but Akira saw it.
"You're remarkably guarded, Captain Akira," Aizen said, tone still even, though the warmth had cooled. "Yet we share a duty to the Seireitei. Understanding one another's strengths is vital for cooperation. Don't you agree?"
Akira said nothing.
Aizen sighed, as though disappointed. "Then… perhaps a demonstration? No combat—just a glimpse of my Shikai. You needn't even look directly. I'll describe it."
"I won't look. And I won't pretend." Akira rose slightly in his seat, his dismissal absolute. "Good day, Captain Aizen."
This time, the pause stretched too long. Aizen's fingers stilled around his teacup. For the first time, genuine frustration flickered beneath the mask.
Why won't he play along?
Despite the irritation simmering beneath his calm exterior, Aizen could not afford to let even a flicker of annoyance breach his carefully cultivated facade. He rose, untouched teacup abandoned on the low table.
"Then I'll take my leave," he said smoothly. "See you at the next captains' meeting."
As Aizen's figure vanished beyond the shoji screen, Akira remained seated, eyes narrowed in quiet contemplation.
My firm stance today must have planted a seed of doubt in his mind…
So, what will you do now, Aizen Sōsuke? Don't disappoint me.
There was no question—Akira was using Aizen as a stepping stone, navigating the treacherous currents of Soul Society's politics with deliberate provocation. For now, as long as Aizen wished to maintain his guise of benevolent captain, he wouldn't make any overt moves. Yet Akira knew better than to underestimate him. Aizen's mind was a labyrinth of suspicion, and even the smallest inconsistency would not go unnoticed.
This wasn't just about surviving the present crisis—it was about engineering a controlled reaction. He needed Aizen to perceive a new variable: a threat precise enough to trigger investigation, but not so obvious as to provoke immediate annihilation.
Just as Akira had anticipated, Aizen had scarcely passed the gate of the Sixth Division barracks before his thoughts turned inward, dissecting the encounter with clinical precision.
Aizen prided himself on his intellect above all else—and upon closer reflection, something felt off.
"With ordinary emotional intelligence, even a stubborn captain like Akira wouldn't treat a fellow division head with such brazen defiance," he mused. "Unless… there's something he's hiding."
His suspicions sharpened further. "Especially since he refused—repeatedly—to witness Kyōka Suigetsu's Shikai."
The more brilliant the mind, the more it distrusts simplicity. Aizen's thoughts spiraled into layers of hypotheticals.
What if he already knows?
"No," he murmured. "Akira is a loose thread. I must confirm whether he's aware of my Zanpakutō's true power."
Without hesitation, Aizen melted into the shadows, summoning his two most trusted allies—Gin Ichimaru and Kaname Tōsen.
Gin, captain of the Third Division, and Tōsen, captain of the Ninth—both Bankai-wielders, both pillars of Soul Society's command—stood before him. None would suspect that these esteemed captains were, in truth, Aizen's silent instruments.
"Akira, the newly appointed captain of the Sixth Division, is riddled with anomalies," Aizen stated, voice calm but edged with steel. "I need you to test him."
Tōsen inclined his head. "Understood. How?"
Gin said nothing, his ever-present grin stretched thin beneath half-lidded eyes—waiting, watching, as always.
"You will attempt to kill him," Aizen said simply. "In moments of mortal peril, people reveal their true nature. If he hides nothing, then he remains a non-issue—a mere replacement for Kuchiki. But if he reacts in ways that defy expectation…"
His gaze hardened. "Kill him."
He paused, then added with quiet finality, "I'll use Kyōka Suigetsu to erase any trace. Our plans cannot tolerate unforeseen variables."
---
That night, Akira sat alone on the engawa of his barracks, sake cup cradled in one hand as he watched the moon drift through scattered clouds.
His confrontation with Aizen had been deliberate—a calculated provocation designed to redirect suspicion while buying time. And earlier that day, he'd faced Byakuya Kuchiki in a sanctioned duel, pushing his limits to fulfill the system's latest survival trial.
At this difficulty, the reward should be worth it…
He took a slow sip of warm sake, exhaling as golden text shimmered into view before his eyes:
[Congratulations, Host! You have successfully survived the day!]
[Lottery reward unlocked!]