The Senzaikyū stood at the heart of the Seireitei—south of the Gotei 13 barracks, atop a raised plateau under the jurisdiction of the Ninth Division.
It was a place reserved for the worst of criminals.
From the outside, it resembled a towering white spire, constructed entirely from Sekkiseki stone. A long staircase spiraled upward toward the upper prison chambers, while a rope bridge on the opposite side connected directly to the Sōkyoku Hill.
Inside, the prison was divided into two levels.
The upper cells held those condemned to death.
The underground level was reserved for high-risk offenders—each cell marked with a number.
Ichimaru Gin was imprisoned in Underground Cell No. 18.
For security reasons, the wardens—though technically under the Ninth Division—wore full-body white uniforms that prevented direct physical contact with the inmates.
Ever since his confinement, Gin had done little but sit on the cold stone floor.
His narrow eyes gazed endlessly into the darkness ahead, a faint, ever-present smile resting on his lips.
The underground cells were damp, suffocating.
The air was thick with dust and the stale scent of decay.
But Gin didn't seem to mind.
His attention was fixed on the pitch-black corridor before him—
Because, suddenly, a faint light appeared.
Tap… tap… tap.
Tap… tap… tap.
Measured footsteps echoed through the silence.
Then, a figure emerged.
A refined man dressed in a flowing white robe stepped into view, holding a paper lantern that cast a dim, wavering glow.
He was tall and pale, with a black ponytail tied neatly behind his head. Two long strands of hair framed his face, giving him an almost scholarly appearance.
At a glance, he looked frail.
But beneath that calm exterior…
There was something deeply dangerous.
"Oh?"
Gin's slit-like eyes opened just a fraction wider as he studied the intruder, his smile widening slightly.
"To slip past Soul Society's surveillance and walk in here unnoticed… you must be the legendary Eighth Kenpachi—"
"Azashiro Sōya."
The man's piercing gaze locked onto Gin as he cut him off coldly.
"Spare me the insincere flattery. I came here for one reason—to ask you a question."
Gin tilted his head slightly.
"And what might that be?"
"I've heard that Aizen obtained a device capable of breaking the limits of a Shinigami… the Hōgyoku."
Azashiro's voice remained calm, but there was a sharp edge beneath it.
"A remarkable creation—one that could shape both the present and the future."
He paused.
"But what I want to know is this…"
"Why didn't you choose Hollowfication?"
"…Hollowfication, huh."
Gin slipped his hands into the sleeves of his prison robes, smiling faintly.
"Maybe I just don't have the talent to handle that kind of power."
"Hmph."
Azashiro let out a cold laugh.
"I didn't come here to hear jokes."
His eyes sharpened.
"Let me tell you something. Long before you ever joined the Gotei 13, I was already observing Aizen's movements."
"And based on everything he's done in Soul Society…"
"I've come to a conclusion."
Gin's expression didn't change—but a glint of interest flickered in his eyes.
"Aizen's true identity…"
Azashiro spoke slowly.
"…is that of an agent sent from the Royal Palace."
"—A fragment of the Soul King himself."
Silence fell.
Azashiro lowered himself onto the cold stone floor across from Gin, as if the biting chill meant nothing to him. If anything, it grounded him—reminding him that he was still alive.
Gin finally opened his eyes fully.
"…And why are you telling me this?"
"I told you already."
Azashiro rested one arm on his knee, his tone indifferent.
"I simply can't understand your decision."
"…?"
"Why you refused Hollowfication."
Gin didn't answer right away.
Because for the first time in a long while—
He couldn't read the man in front of him.
After a long silence, the usual playful smile faded from his face.
When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. Steadier.
"The only reason I've been able to endure all these years… the endless waiting, the suffocating darkness…"
"…is because of a memory from my childhood."
His gaze drifted somewhere far beyond the cell.
"I'd rather lose my life…"
"…than let that memory be swallowed by the void of a Hollow."
"…and become nothing more than a tool—one that abandons all bonds in pursuit of power."
"So that's how it is…" Azashiro lifted his head. For the first time, a faint smile crept onto his otherwise expressionless face. "No wonder… Even trapped in chains like this, there's still someone out there who loves you enough to risk everything."
"…What did you just say?"
"Hmph."
Azashiro gave no answer. He simply turned, lantern in hand, and walked away. Slowly, both his figure and the dim glow of light were swallowed once more by the suffocating darkness…
"…"
Leaning against the wall, Gin Ichimaru stared unblinkingly into the pitch-black corridor. A single, crystal-clear tear slid quietly down his cheek.
Was it... Rangiku?
—
"Vice-Captain Matsumoto!"
Konami Harano, one of the guards stationed at the Senzaikyū, desperately tried to hold Matsumoto Rangiku back as he shouted, "Please, get a hold of yourself! You can't cause trouble here!"
"Out of my way!"
Rangiku clutched a sake bottle in one hand while shoving aside the guards blocking her path. Her voice was sharp with anger.
"Or I'll take you all down with him!"
"Vice-Captain Matsumoto! Before this draws the attention of the patrol squads, you need to leave—otherwise all of Third Seat Saitō's efforts will be wasted!" Harano pleaded, clinging to her with all his strength.
"I don't care! I've held this in long enough—this time, I'm getting answers from him!"
Rangiku grabbed Harano by the hair, her expression fierce.
"If you keep blocking me, I'll rip it all out and leave you bald—just like Ikkaku!"
"Please no! Vice-Captain Matsumoto, stop!"
"Stop already!"
"Vice-Captain Matsumoto, if you don't, we'll have to report this to the captain!"
The other guards were on edge, panic written all over their faces. But after witnessing what had happened to the last group of enforcers who tried to restrain her, none of them dared make a reckless move.
"Tch! Even if your captain shows up, I'll still—"
Rangiku suddenly froze.
At some point, a figure had appeared behind them without anyone noticing.
"Let her go."
It was Captain Fūjin Taichi.
"Captain!"
Harano was the first to notice him, shouting in relief. The other guards instinctively released their grip on Rangiku, stepping back stiffly.
"C-Captain Fūjin…" Rangiku's earlier bravado vanished the moment she saw him. The memory of being tied up like a bundle back at Kenkyū Hill flashed vividly in her mind.
"Rangiku. Come with me."
Fūjin Taichi turned without another word and began walking toward the interior of the Senzaikyū. The guards hesitated, wanting to stop him—but none dared speak. After all, he was their commanding officer.
"Captain!" Harano finally called out as Fūjin pushed open the heavy doors. "Captain-Commander Yamamoto has given strict orders—without his permission, no one is allowed to meet Ichimaru Gin in private!"
"You've got it wrong."
Fūjin flashed a crooked smile.
"The old man only said no private visits. As for us…" He glanced back slightly. "We're walking in openly."
"But—"
"But what?" Fūjin cut him off bluntly. "If anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility."
"…"
Hearing that, Harano stopped arguing. Instead, he shot a subtle glance at one of his companions behind him.
Fūjin noticed—but didn't seem the least bit concerned. He turned to Rangiku, who still stood there hesitating.
"Rangiku, didn't you want to see Ichimaru Gin?" he said calmly. "Go on."
"…"
When Rangiku first heard him say he'd take her to see Gin, her heart had surged with excitement.
But now that she stood at the threshold, a trace of fear crept in.
The moment she heard Gin had returned to Soul Society, she had rushed here without a second thought—risking her life, breaking regulations, even assaulting members of the patrol squads—just to see him.
Whatever punishment came after… she could bear it alone. She wouldn't drag anyone else down with her.
But—
If she followed Fūjin Taichi into the Senzaikyū now, it wouldn't just confirm her crime of trespassing. He would be implicated as well… and the consequences would be far more severe.
After all, ever since becoming Captain of Ninth Division, Fūjin Taichi had made a habit of breaking the Seireitei's ironclad rules—and never once showed signs of changing.
He was already under scrutiny.
If he violated the law again because of this… the sages of the Central 46 would almost certainly sentence him to the Sōkyoku.
That scene…
She didn't even dare imagine it.
..
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