At dusk, Higashi Shuuichi returned to Urahara's shop, dragging the utterly exhausted Kisaragi Shūsuke by the collar. He hadn't even stepped through the door before a familiar shout rang out.
"Shuuichi-sama! You woke up and didn't even come see me?!"
At the entrance, Matsumoto Rangiku stood with hands on her hips, dressed in a sleek black kimono. Her discontent was written all over her face.
"I saw you were passed out drunk," Shuuichi said with a grin. "Didn't have the heart to wake you. Besides, I just took Shūsuke out for a bit. Nothing major."
Maybe it was the change of clothes—finally free from her identical Soul Reaper uniform—or maybe it was how she'd filled out just a little more in the World of the Living, but to Shuuichi, Rangiku seemed more… compelling than ever.
"Shuuichi-kun, what happened to Shūsuke?" asked Kabuto Sayako, who'd been waiting by the door as well.
"He's just out of shape. Did a tiny bit of work and completely collapsed."
Shuuichi laughed.
At that, Nagazawa Rimi, walking quietly behind them, blanched.
So… soul burials for nearly a hundred people was just a bit of work?
She suddenly regretted ever agreeing to follow Shuuichi back with the promise of finding Kurosaki Mai.
"Am I gonna end up like that?"
The image of herself, sleeves rolled, muscles bulging, flashed through her mind—and she shook her head violently.
No way. Not happening.
"So, Shuuichi-kun… are you planning to let Rimi join us?" Sayako asked, noticing Rimi's weird head shake and stifling a giggle.
How had she not realized Rimi was this adorable?
"Exactly," Shuuichi said, eyes half-lidded. "She's got a good heart—like you, Sayako. If she joins, maybe you won't be so bored anymore."
"…Huh?"
"…What did you just say?"
Predictably, that line lit a fire in both Sayako and Rangiku.
"You're saying I don't keep Sayako company enough?!"
"Shuuichi, are you calling me boring to my face?!"
From the second-floor balcony, Yoruichi, in cat form, had been lazily enjoying the evening sun—until she leapt down and landed squarely on Shuuichi's head.
"D-Did that cat just talk?!"
Rimi stumbled back several steps, pointing at Yoruichi, eyes wide with disbelief.
"What's the big deal?" Yoruichi asked, her interest piqued by the reaction. "You're okay with Soul Reapers, but a talking cat shocks you?"
"W-Well… I already knew about Soul Reapers…"
Realizing her outburst, Rimi looked sheepish.
"All good," Shuuichi said, catching Yoruichi midair as she tried to pounce on Rimi. "Just think of this place as your new home. We're all chill here."
Cat form? Please. In human form, he couldn't touch her, but like this? She was putty in his grip.
Holding her as she flailed and hissed in protest, Shuuichi could almost see the words in her glare:
"Just wait, Shuuichi."
Yeah, good luck with that. She wouldn't dare pull her stunt again—sealing his Zanpakutō like before. If she tried now, half the room would probably turn on her.
Not to mention, she'd only pulled it off before because Shuuichi had surrendered his blade willingly. That trick wouldn't work twice.
As twilight deepened, the legendary Hōrin Tessai—now part-time chef, full-time saint—stepped into the kitchen and took over dinner duties.
Not that most of them needed to eat… but hey, why waste good food?
"So your family's really this big, huh, Shūsuke-kun?" Rimi asked, gazing around the increasingly lively shop.
She felt a strange pang in her chest.
Back when she'd lived with her sister, Kurosaki Mai, she'd never cared about this kind of warmth.
But a year ago, Mai and her husband had left suddenly—and ever since, that hollow ache called loneliness had crept in.
Even surrounded by people—some of whom knelt before her, treated her like royalty—Rimi knew she'd always been alone.
But now?
It felt like she'd found her place.
"…Not really," Shūsuke muttered beside her.
That stung.
"Shūsuke-kun—"
She faltered, unsure what to say.
They were tucked in a corner; no one else heard.
But Rimi knew from experience—this wasn't the kind of place or time for deep, emotional talk.
Thankfully, Shūsuke wasn't socially blind. He dropped the topic.
Still… he couldn't forget what Yoruichi had told them months ago.
Kisuke had studied Hollowfication long ago.
He knew something was wrong.
So why… had he done nothing?
Everything about Aizen Sōsuke came from Kisuke and Tessai's mouths. For all they knew, Kisuke had orchestrated the whole thing. Maybe he'd just needed a scapegoat—chose Aizen at random—only to realize too late Aizen had an airtight alibi.
So Kisuke woke Shuuichi-sama, spun the story, relied on his kindness—knowing Shuuichi wouldn't sit still while innocent captains were punished. Knowing he'd throw himself into danger to give others a chance to escape.
Shūsuke didn't care if he was wrong.
Even if Shuuichi hadn't almost died—(Shuuichi: Excuse me??)—Kisuke was still wrong for dragging him into it.
So no. Shūsuke didn't trust Kisuke. Or Tessai. Or even Yoruichi.
He trusted Rangiku, who'd once fought beside Shuuichi.
He trusted Sayako, who gave up her noble status to follow him.
(Meanwhile, Sayako, somewhere: Wait—me? High and mighty? 😳)
The celebration soon ignited.
"Yo! To celebrate both Lisa-san and Shuuichi's awakening—let's do that thing… uh, Rangiku, what was it called again?!"
Kensei, still in his skull-themed Hollow mask, slammed a foot on the table, one hand hoisting his sake cup.
"Drinking game!" Rangiku cheered, raising her cup high.
This was her vibe. Loud. Boozy. No rules.
"Get your foot off the table!"
Mashiro yanked Kensei back down, face full of judgment.
She couldn't believe this was her captain.
Meanwhile, Yadōmaru Lisa, newly reawakened and back in her Shinigami form, didn't even blink. Kensei? Child's play. Her former captain had been even more chaotic.
"No games for me," Lisa said calmly. "And Kensei-taichō, you shouldn't drink too much. We need to master our powers first."
Rimi's presence kept her words vague.
"Come on~ Lisa-san, just one cup!" Sayako chimed in cheerfully.
"Yeah, yeah! Just one!" Rangiku added, teleporting to Lisa's side and throwing an arm over her.
"No. I won't. I—mmph!"
Lisa held out as long as she could, but against Rangiku's constant shoving, she finally took a sip.
Boom.
Pink heat flushed her cheeks.
"…Another?"
"Another!"
"Alright!"
No one expected Lisa to be a one-cup lightweight—but once drunk, she drank like a fish.
Within minutes, the two of them were halfway through Tessai's entire stock.
Shuuichi watched them with a helpless smile.
He picked up a slice of sashimi—meltingly tender, full of delicate fat—and let it dissolve on his tongue.
Had Tessai learned this skill over the past year? Or had he always been this good?
Either way, the man should've opened a restaurant. Instead, Kisuke had him unloading crates and cooking dinner like a glorified errand boy.
A crime, really.
Shuuichi popped another slice into his mouth.
Delicious.
The party carried into the late hours.
Once everyone else had drifted off to sleep, Shuuichi climbed to the second-floor balcony, letting the night breeze cool his thoughts.
"You've made up your mind?"
Kisuke's voice came from behind.
He joined Shuuichi at the railing, moonlight washing over them.
"I assume," Shuuichi said, eyes on the dark horizon, "you recovered the Dangai Gate after we escaped Soul Society?"
The neon of this era hadn't yet drowned the stars.
"Looking for him, huh?" Kisuke chuckled. "I suppose he wouldn't care about the consequences."
Smart as always.
He'd already guessed Shuuichi meant Kurotsuchi Mayuri.
"But are you sure… he'll help you?"
"Then why don't you help me, Kisuke?"
Shuuichi turned, smiling faintly.
"Pass. I told you—I'm not touching that power. It's pointless."
Kisuke grinned back.
He could hear the resolve in Shuuichi's voice.
He didn't know why—on the surface, Shuuichi's actions seemed transparent—but something about him… didn't add up.
His goals. His persistence. His calculations.
Kisuke couldn't see the whole picture.
But one thing was clear: Shuuichi wouldn't sit still for long. Sooner or later, Kisuke might need to create some distance.
Just in case.
Suddenly, flames lit up the distant streets.
A tide of armored samurai, some mounted, some on foot, surged through the darkness.
Their banners flickered like blood-soaked spears.
Charging straight toward Urahara's shop.
Finally.
Watching them approach, Higashi Shuuichi's lips curled.
As expected.