Upon a hill that overlooked an endless sea of trees, two figures stood, bathed in the gentle light of a rising sun. One was a young woman, the black tangles of her unkempt hair swaying slightly in the morning breeze. She was clad in a light purple kimono that billowed around her. Next to her was a red-haired young man, wearing a sleeveless tunic that had gathered the dirt and grime of his usual struggle in District 78 of the Soul Society.

A struggle that reduced their group of five to just the two of them.

Rukia’s hands clenched into fists. “Renji, I’m going to become a Shinigami.”

Their friends, notorious for their mischief, had been apprehended by the Shinigami, their fate now uncertain. She and Renji had easily outran the Shinigami since they possessed stronger bodies due to their high Reiatsu.

Renji placed a hand on her shoulder. “Me too. Life inside the Seireitei is surely better… let’s hope our friends are finding some joy there.”

Rukia shook her head, an almost sad smile gracing her lips at Renji’s naivety. Their friends had been hauled away like animals, not invited like nobles. It was hard for her to imagine her friends leading any semblance of a good life inside the Seireitei. He was in pure denial.

“We better set out now,” Renji said. “The exams are in fifteen or something days.”

***

The repercussions of the cruel yet necessary sacrifices for Soul Balancing rippled through multiple lives, not just the lives of Rukia and Renji.

Second floor of the 5th Squad’s Barracks.

A black-haired man held a brush, his strokes on the canvas as sharp and elegant as a sword. The black-framed glasses and white coat over his Shinigami Uniform gave off a gentle aura.

Aizen Sosuke, the Captain of the 5th Squad, believed that the art of calligraphy required as much, if not more precision, than the art of swordsmanship. He had immaculately mastered both arts alongside many others. His calligraphy skills were so profound that he was bestowed with the honor of being a special lecturer in the Shinigami Academy. His charm and expertise magnetized the attention of the students, making him one of the most popular lecturers, despite the optional nature of the calligraphy course.

The calm rhythm of Aizen’s brush was disrupted when the door behind him slid open, revealing a man with silver/white hair, an unsettling smile on his face. His eyes, forever shut, only made him look creepier, like a snake who would bite you any second.

Gin Ichimaru, the Vice-Captain of the 5th Squad, closed the door behind him. Settling down beside Aizen, he maintained his eerie smile. “Captain Aizen, you might want to hear this beautiful news.”

“Oh, could it be related to that place?”

“Indeed it is, Captain. Your assumptions were correct,” Gin said. “A wandering hero put an end to the Emperor’s reign. That place lost its ruler.”

Among many countless reasons for the disruption, Aizen believed the death of some Vasto Lorde was the most likely scenario.

A pause punctuated the air as Aizen’s brush came to a halt. Laying it down, he turned to face Gin. “Has that person taken over the throne?”

“That’s the most surprising part, Captain Aizen. That person simply vanished after the act. That place is now plunged in a chaotic civil war with everyone fighting for a chance to be the next ‘God’.”

A cold smile settled on Aizen's face as he adjusted his glasses. “A false god you mean. Hmmm… Gin, bring me the identity of that hero. I wonder how strong they can be under our influence.”

“I will try, Captain Aizen. But what about our plan of taking over that place?”

“Let the waves stabilize under a new ruler.”

Killing/Subjugating the new ruler required less effort than calming the current chaos in Las Noches.

…

At the same time.

A door quietly parted to the office room of the 10th Squad. A figure, clad in standard Shinigami outfit, slipped through the door. His gaze landed on the sprawling figure of a blonde woman, splayed out on the sofa dominating the room. Her voluptuous form was generously accentuated by her languid posture, and the pink scarf draped around her neck was like a flag, drawing unwavering attention to the lush valleys of her cleavage.

The silent intrusion did not break the spell of her dreams, her chest rising and falling in the rhythm of peaceful slumber.

A sly smirk bloomed across the intruder’s face, mischief flickering in his black eyes. Rather than retreating and letting the sleeping beauty rest, he chose to take revenge for the woman’s continuous naggings. Tiptoeing across the room, he reached for a black pen from the table.

He leaned before the sleeping woman, his pen ever so slowly reaching towards her face.

The rest was history.

…

Rangiku Matsumoto bolted upright, blinking sleepily after waking up from a dream. The same dream about her childhood friend who had lost touch with kindness.

Her eyes fell upon a man with spiky black hair engrossed in writing on a scroll. In a daze, she squinted her eyes and pinched her cheeks, questioning the reality of the scene.

“It’s not a dream?!”

Isshin Shiba, her Captain, sighed. “Quiet down, Rangiku. I’m writing down the reports of nine hundred sixty nine purifications I performed in Nagasaki. The number of suicides there is simply abnormal.”

Rangiku’s face turned serious at the mention of Nagasaki, a city grappling with the destructive aftermath of a nuclear disaster five years past. The Hollows spawned there were unusually tough compared to other regions. Such conditions wouldn’t ordinarily warrant the deployment of a Captain, yet Isshin had stubbornly insisted on undertaking the mission alone. Despite his lewd humor and laziness, Isshin was deeply conscientious, unwilling to let his novice Seated Officers fight the nightmarish Hollows.

He was dependable when the situation demanded.

Suppressing a chuckle, Isshin cleared his throat. “Anything happened here when I was away?”

Rangiku absentmindedly scratched her neck, "Actually, Kūkaku paid a visit a few days ago."

“Huh? Why did she—”

“Like I know anything about your eccentric niece. You’re the Head of Shiba Clan.”

“Head of a Branch,” Isshin corrected her. “I better go and check on her. Rangiku, my beautiful Vice Captain, finish these reports for me!”

Rangiku’s face twitched as she raised a clenched fist. “Stop finding reasons to slack…” she paused, feeling a friend approach her room. “Isane?”

As Isane stepped through the door holding a tray, Isshin seized the opportunity to make a swift exit with Shunpo.

“Oi, slacker! Come back here!” Rangiku could only wave her fists around as Isshin ran away after dumping his workload on her.

Isane didn't bat an eye, seemingly unfazed by the theatrics, a typical day in the 10th Squad. However, upon glimpsing Rangiku’s face, she couldn't stifle a chuckle.

“Rangiku, your face…”

Rangiku summoned a hand mirror to inspect her face. The slacker Captain had drawn childish doodles around her eyes, her nose, and an unsightly sketch of a pair of breasts on either cheek.

She wiped her face clean, her face cold. “Isane, I’m sorry. I have to pay that bastard back for this.”

She couldn’t let him get away with his prank. More importantly, she found a reason to slack off in her Captain’s absence. She wasn’t finishing Isshin’s reports even if her life depended on it!

With a dismissive wave, Isane replied, “No worries…”

As Rangiku made her fiery exit, Isane sighed, her gaze dropping to the tray in her hands. “I suppose I’ll visit Vice-Captain Yachiru. She is always eager for a snack.”

Glorious_Milfhunter

Favorite if you liked it!