Rukia's brief time as Lieutenant had been interesting, to say the least. There was a lot more human interaction than she was used to, for one, from meetings to training seminars to simply playing therapist to the other seated officers, many of whom had been unsettled by Aizen's betrayal. While Rukia was still supremely uncomfortable giving orders as opposed to receiving them, many other parts of her new role were nigh identical to her job as an unseated officer. Truthfully, she was beginning to develop a sneaking suspicion that Ukitake had been handing her all of the Lieutenant-level paperwork Kiyone and Sentaro didn't have the time to complete for years.

The mundanities of running the 13th Division hadn't been her primary task over the last few weeks, however.

The Shinigami sneezed as dust tickled her nose. The Daireishokairō was the Seireitei's chief repository of knowledge, a grand library located in the depths of the Central 46 compound. Access was normally forbidden for all but a chosen few – even Captains needed to gain permission to browse the ginormous archives. Of course, the Gotei 13 wasn't currently in normal times. The library spanned over a hundred floors, each filled with shelves upon shelves of books, scrolls, and parchment stacked from ceiling to floor. Thankfully, Rukia didn't need to walk down the stairs manually. A rudimentary elevator connected the floors of the Daireishokairō, and after fiddling with a few buttons, the Shinigami made her decent. The thick, acetone scene of dust, paper, and ink lingered in the ancient air as she went down and down and down.

When she'd first set foot in the Daireishokairō, she had been awed by its magnitude. After several weeks of long, tedious research, however, it had grown rather mundane. Eventually, the elevator stuttered to a halt, and leaving the platform, the Lieutenant got to work. Rukia was in the midst of cross-referencing several texts when a voice caught her attention.

"Ah, Kurusu-chan." Kyōraku smiled, a stack of books slotted under the Captain's arm. He'd probably arrived not long after she had. "How are things going?"

"Tediously." Rukia sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Half of these documents are just the same pieces of information regurgitated again and again." It didn't help that many of them were as ancient as the Soul Society itself - even with her Kuchiki-backed education, some of the language was nigh indecipherable.

The stubbled Captain nodded in sympathy. He would understand her pains, after all – Kyōraku and Ukitake had been trawling through the library even longer than she had. After Aizen's defection, the two Captains had received orders from the Captain Commander himself – investigate the Daireishokairō and identify any and everything the traitor had accessed since he'd murdered the Central 46. With her recent promotion and the 13th safe in the hands of Kiyone and Sentaro, Rukia had been roped into researching with them. Luckily, the library was enchanted so all documents accessed were automatically recorded, meaning it was easy enough to follow Aizen's tracks. Unluckily, it turned out that Aizen had read an awful lot of stuff.

"Shunsui, Rukia?" Ukitake's hesitant voice echoed in the distance. "I think I've found something."

The duo exchanged a glance, before hurrying to the pale Captain's side. A tremor of hope fluttered in Rukia's chest – perhaps this was the big break they were looking for. When they reached Ukitake, however, his expression was grim. The Captain's mouth was drawn into a thin line as his eyes drilled into the long parchment gilded with gold in his hands.

"Here." He passed the offending paper to Kyōraku, who quickly mirrored his friend's frown. "So far, nearly all the literature we've found has been about the Hōgyoku and the principles behind its creation. This, however…"

The other Captain grew almost as pale as his old friend as he skimmed through the parchment. "He's been researching the Ōken."

The King's Key? Rukia furrowed her brows, lips pursed. Judging by the name, it was almost certainly related to the Soul King. Even as a former Kuchiki, she barely knew anything about the man and his kin. In theory, the Soul King was the Seireitei's ultimate authority, so important they lived in their own subdimension - the Royal Realm - for their safety. In reality, though, the man was nothing but a figurehead, so elusive he and his family might as well not exist. Quite frankly, if it wasn't for the Kuchikis' firm belief that the Soul King was real, Rukia would have dismissed them as a mere fairy tale. As far as she was aware, the royal family had never left their gilded halls or issued any edicts to the Gotei 13.

Why on earth would Aizen be researching the Soul King?

"I'm going to contact Yamamoto." Ukitake announced, brows creased deeply. "He needs to know about this."

…..

Futaba's plan to oust Sugimura went far more smoothly than the disaster that was Operation Haru-watch ever did. The hacker handed Akira her rigged USB before he headed off to school that Monday morning along with a set of basic instructions, and instead of joining his friends over the lunchbreak, he took the stairs down to the ground floor where the third-years had their classes and knocked on the door. As a plain-looking girl opened it, she paled when she saw who it was, but ultimately agreed to fetch Haru when he asked.

As the brunette exited the classroom, she shot him a surprised look. "Akira-kun? Why are you here?"

"It's about that matter we discussed last week." He replied, keeping things vague as he guided her towards a quiet spot in Shujin's courtyard.

Haru's eyes dimmed, clearly realising what he was alluding to. "Ah, I see."

As they reached a closed-off little alcove, Akira quickly verified they were alone before withdrawing Futaba's USB and handing it to a mildly confused Haru. "Here. We can't take on Sugimura like our other targets, but we've got other ways to make him face justice. Remember Medjed?"

Haru's eyes widened, gluing themselves on the USB he'd given her like it was the Holy Grail. Slowly, she nodded.

The frizzy-haired teen continued. "Shove that into his computer or phone and we'll dig up every single one of his dirty secrets. If we can do enough damage to his reputation, your father will probably end the engagement without you having to say a word."

"I… that's…" Haru swallowed, voice breathy. "Thank you, Akira-kun, truly."

He returned to his classes shortly afterwards, and the day continued on without note until that evening, when he got a solitary text in the midst of researching for his social studies assignment.

Haru: It's done.

Grinning, he unlocked his phone and called Futaba. "Hey – good news. Operation Fuck-You-Sugimura has officially begun."

"Oooh, that's a solid name." Futaba whistled. "Gimme a couple of days, and his life will be over!"

Two restless days later, and true to her word, Futaba's plan bore fruit. Akira caught wind of her success between classes. He was on his way to get changed into his gym uniform when he heard a couple of boys gossiping by the shoe lockers.

"Dude, did you hear? Medjed's back! And this time, they're working with the Phantoms!"

"What? No way – that's not possible."

"No, seriously, check the Phansite!"

Heart skipping a beat, Akira whipped his phone out of his pocket at lightning speed. Opening up the Phansite, a vicious grin spread across his face. There was an article pinned to the homepage, and when he clicked on the link, he was redirected to a page hosted on Medjed's now-reclaimed site. A wave of bliss ran over Akira as he was immediately greeted with an image of Sugimura sucking cocaine from between a stripper's breasts. Oh, that's BAD. And by bad, he meant absolutely excellent. For him, anyway - Sugimura could suck it.

While that was easily the most egregious piece of dirt Futaba had dug up, it wasn't the only nugget of gold she'd found. Pornography, solicitation, misogynistic texts and drunken voice calls whinging about father's political allies, including Okumura himself… the only thing that was receipts for his procurements of drugs - alas, even Sugimura wasn't that stupid.

By the time Akira finished examining Futaba's handiwork, he was on cloud nine. While Sugimura's daddy dearest probably had enough money and clout to keep his asshole of a son out of prison, the damage to his reputation would be unsalvagable. Vindictive satisfaction bubbled within the teen – it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

His text notifications pinged, and Akira tapped it without a second thought, expecting it to be the Phantoms group chat. Instead, he was snapped back to reality as Akechi's name suddenly appeared on his screen.

Akechi: Did you hear the news about Sugimura Daisuke?

Akechi: I have some interesting theories about it, and I'd love to hear your opinions on them.

Akechi: Are you free on Wednesday?

For a moment, Akira stood there, frozen. It was a stupid idea – Akechi was a mass murderer for crying out loud. At the same time, not going might make him come off as suspicious – Akechi was also a detective for crying out loud. In the end, temptation won out - Akira knew something Akechi didn't, and the thought of dangling that over the detective's head after all the shit he put them through was tantalising. Fuck it, why not?

Akira: Sure.

Akira: Where would you like to meet?

…..

As she stormed away from the 1st Division, Rukia's heart pounded in her chest. The joint Captains and Lieutenants meeting had just come to its end, and the revelations it contained were staggering. When Yamamoto announced to the gathered group that Aizen's ambitions were far worse than simply conquering the Seireitei, Rukia had been sceptical - it was hard to imagine anything more serious than an attempt to overthrow an entire world. Suffice to say, the Rukia of the past had been foolishly naïve. Aizen is mad – completely and utterly mad! So much death and destruction, for a scheme as ludicrous as THAT?!

Picking a direction at random, she marched away haphazardly. The idea of simply returning back to the 13th and pretending nothing was horrifically, horrifically wrong made her feel sick. The Lieutenant thundered down the tiled streets for at least ten minutes, cold autumn air whipping at her skin, and only came to a halt when she caught sight of a familiar cluster of trees. With a jolt, Rukia realised that perhaps her aimless wanderings were a lot less random than she'd initially thought. Subconsciously, the Shinigami started to march straight towards the Senkaimon.

For a moment, she hesitated, but after taking a deep breath in and out, Rukia continued her journey. Yamamoto had been very clear that the discussion this evening would remain need-to-know only - it would be a disaster if any of Aizen's spies discovered that the Gotei 13 had divined his true goal. Quite frankly though, the Lieutenant didn't give a toss about what the Captain Commander said.

"Oi, Rukia!" The sudden shout snapped her out of her thoughts. In a flash of shunpo, a panting Renji appeared behind her. Adjusting his goggles, the Captain shot her a suspicious glance. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

She scoffed, and quickly examined the street. They were alone, so why not be honest? "You already know the answer to that question, Renji."

Sighing, he massaged his brows. While the redhead had been practically frothing at the mouth during the meeting, right now, he simply looked tired. "You know, even as a Lieutenant, you can't just swan through the Senkaimon whenever you please. Especially not to give classified information to outsiders."

Rukia rolled her eyes. "Please. Captain Ukitake would have figured out what I'm doing by now. If he disapproved, I'd already know. Besides, considering the miscarriage of justice committed against me, I rather think the Gotei 13 owes me one."

Renji sighed, but his exasperation was surface-level at best. "… I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?"

Despite herself, Rukia smirked as she experienced the first hint of levity she'd felt all evening. "Obviously not."

"Well then, at least let me talk you into rushing into the World of the Living at a more reasonable hour." Her old friend patted her shoulder. "It's the middle of the night, and Aizen isn't exactly going to be launching his attack tomorrow – if you're going to shirk your duties, at least be sensible about it."

A part of her screamed, demanding her to brush Renji to the side and march to Akira's side right now, but logically, the rest of Rukia knew he was right. One night's rest would make no difference, and it was likely the Phantoms were asleep, anyway.

"Fine." She sighed, the swirling storm of her Reiatsu beginning to abate. "I go tomorrow, though. The Phantoms need to hear about this."

…..

Kenpachi had thought Unohana was a delightfully brutal opponent before that evening, but as they started sparring, the unrestrained bloodlust behind her blade was almost overwhelming. While shit like the Royal Realm and Ōken went right over his head – the only thing Kenpachi cared about was that he was finally going to get a chance to sink his blade in some Arrancars' guts – his Kendo mentor clearly felt differently.

She didn't speak – she didn't need to – but as Unohana lashed her sword at him again and again, for the first time in a while, Kenpachi was forced purely on the defensive. While progress had been slow after their comedically one-sided introductory lesson, he had grown stronger, faster. He could now see the subtle way Unohana twisted her hands when she aimed to disarm him, and knew to how counter her trick with a twist of his own.

Now, however, Kenpachi couldn't do anything but parry, and while he managed to shield himself from any vital blows, Unohana's blade still occasionally slipped past his guard and cut into his skin. As the fight continued, Kenpachi scowled, his impatience rising. He didn't want to stand around and merely defend himself like a coward. He wanted to unleash his blade and go wild, consequences be damned!

It was at that moment that the strangest sensation came over him. It was almost as if a pair of invisible hands drifted over his skin, nudging his blade into just the right position. This time, when he countered Unohana's blow, her Zanpakutō bounced back with so much force it was almost torn from her hands. She would only need a split second to recover, but that was all he needed too.

There. Be free, Kenpachi – fight to your heart's content!

A maniacal grin cracked across his rugged face as he slashed at his foe. Unohana's Zanpakutō quavered in her hands as she hurriedly deflected his strike. The woman still outsped him, but in the realm of the Senzaikyū, raw power was on Kenpachi's side. As he sliced at her again and again, his heart began to soar. Slipping past her guard, for the first time ever, his blade tasted her blood. Unfortunately, she used the moment to smash the hilt of her blade into his nose, cracking his bones before promptly disarming him. Still, even though victory was hers, for the first time ever, Unohana had needed to fight for it.

Instead of stabbing him – the usual way she ended their duels – the other Captain merely sheathed her blade. "Your technique is improving, but you're still sluggish – you need to be able to read my movements at a subconscious level, not just a conscious one."

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes. "You know there ain't any point giving me homework – the runts in my Division are nothing compared to you."

Unohana frowned as they exited the white tower and crossed over the Senzaikyū's bridge. "Aizen's war will be upon us, sooner rather than later – our time is running out. If you are to reach your potential in time, you must progress faster." The 4th Division Captain then tilted her head, expression unreadable. "By the way… have you been meditating with your Zanpakutō recently?"

Kenpachi furrowed his brows as they shunpoed down the hill and into the forest at its base. "No? Tried to a bit after Kurusu kicked my ass, but I couldn't hear anything so I stopped."

She opened her mouth, but was interrupted as the crack of a twig echoed through the woods like a gunshot. Immediately, the Captains halted, whirling towards the source of the sound like two naughty children caught with their hands in the cookie jar. As they looked around though, there was nothing but the rustling of the leaves in the breeze.

"… Must have been a marten." Unohana murmured, before turning her attention back to Kenpachi. "Try doing it again. You might find yourself more successful."

…..

Just like the last time they met face-to-face (as opposed to face-to-mask), Akira ended up meeting Akechi in Kichijoji. The Detective Prince looked as presentable as ever – his shirt was crisp, tie straight, and hair neatly brushed. He should have looked out of place against the tarnished brick wall he was standing by, but instead, his surroundings somehow fit him like a glove.

As soon as he caught sight of Akira, he shot the other teenager a picture-perfect smile. It was so disgustingly manufactured that Akira almost ended up rolling his eyes. God, he'd love to punch that smarmy little grin off his face and expose the ugly truth underneath. Akira didn't, of course - he had no intention of violating his probation on a whim, and punching the White-Masked Killer in the face was just an all-around bad idea.

Instead, the frizzy-haired smirked. "Long time, no see."

Admittedly, that was because he'd been avoiding the detective, but Akechi didn't need to know that. While the other boy's smile was still bland and inoffensive as he registered Akira's greeting, there was a calculating edge to his eyes as he examined his rival. Something stirred within the Substitute Shinigami. If you think you're going wheedle any information out of me, you're sorely mistaken, Akechi.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" The detective mused, stroking his chin. "Still, I'm happy we can at least spend this afternoon together."

The skies were only just beginning to darken, meaning it was far too early to go to the Jazz Jin, so instead, Akechi guided him further down the road into a club named Penguin Sniper. There was a small bar at the building's back, but it was clear the purpose of this place wasn't drinks. The forefront of the club was dominated by several billiard tables, and several dartboards occupied the back. Huh. He supposed Akechi had asked him if he wanted to play billiards a while back.

Walking to one of the tables, Akechi picked up a cue. "Have you played before?"

"Nope. I'm sure I'll pick it up as we go along." Akira shrugged. Honestly, how hard could it be?

The answer to that was 'very'. Akechi completely and utterly trashed him, not helped by the fact that Akira kept on accidentally pocketing the wrong balls. Mulishly, the teen narrowed his eyes as the first bit of genuine emotion this evening crept onto Akechi's face – namely, smugness. The prick even had the gall to go easy on him, playing with his right hand instead of his dominant left.

"Darts?" Akira suggested as the game came to an end. Even if he couldn't beat Akechi in a fistfight or billiards, he was determined to score a victory somewhere.

"Why not?" Akechi smiled, all teeth. "Perhaps it'll be more in line with your capabilities."

Bring it on. Akira returned the grin. He'd show Akechi that he wasn't as much a hot-shot as he thought, or die trying. As they moved to the back of Penguin Sniper, however, he mentally drifted away from his surroundings. Why was this so... easy? The Detective Prince was a mass murderer who was trying to arrest Akira during his day job, and was actively trying to end his life during his night one. And yet, the frizzy-haired teen didn't feel an iota of anxiety in his presence. Akira didn't think his curiosity about the teen's true nature was at all weird - Akechi was an interesting puzzle to solve, but that didn't explain his complete and utter lack of fear. In fact, the omnipresent cloud of doubt that had plagued Akira for weeks now was nowhere to be seen.

It was at that moment, however, when a bolt of sudden clarity hit him. Finally, he understood why he felt so comfortable in the Detective Prince's presence. It was because quite frankly, Akira didn't give a damn if hurt Akechi. In fact, he didn't even think that he could. If the beast inside Akira reared its ugly head, the White-Masked Killer would probably find it a lark.

Mind returning to the present, it quickly became clear that darts were far more in Akira's wheelhouse. While Akechi put up a hell of a fight, as the game came to its close, Akira was in the lead.

"How's Kuchiki-san?" Akechi asked, the slightest frown on his face as he threw his last dart. "It's been a while since I've heard from her."

"Busy." Akira grunted as he analysed his foe's movements. Akechi had pinpoint accuracy, but he was too busy trying to one-up Akira when he should have been focusing on making the optimal plays. "She's had a ton on her plate ever since she moved back home. It doesn't help that the reception is shitty too - even I've barely been able to speak to her."

Hopefully, that would be a good enough cover story to explain why Rukia had probably dropped the Detective Prince like hot butter the second she got back to the Soul Society. It wasn't even really a lie - over the last few weeks, she'd practically been... well, a ghost.

"A pity." Akechi sighed, finally conceding his loss. "I did enjoy discussing the Phantoms with her. Kuchiki-san had an intriguing stance on their actions."

Akira shrugged. "It's not like there's been much to talk about, lately."

Something glinted in the detective's eyes as he perched himself down on a stool, and ordered a lemonade from the bar. "On the contrary - there very much has been."

Akira raised a brow, getting a lemon and lime bitters for himself. "Oh?"

"Have you heard about Medjed's latest attack? The leaked photos of Sugimura Daichi's son in compromising positions?" Akechi sipped his drink.

Nodding, Akira frowned. "Yeah, I heard. Still, the bastard is probably going to get off scot-free. His father's got enough cash to keep him out of jail, and it's not like he's going to actually feel guilty about his crimes – only upset that he got caught."

"Perhaps. Sadly, the courts aren't above granting special privileges to those with power. Still, the court of public opinion can be just as brutal – something I've learnt from experience." Akechi tipped his head, expression neutral. "The article was shared on the Phansite – while many have interpreted it as a gesture of goodwill indicating the Phantoms and Medjed have dropped their feud, I have an alternative theory."

"Oh, yeah?"

Akechi nodded. "I don't think the Phantoms and Medjed have mended their bond at all – in fact, I believe Medjed acted specifically on the Phantoms' orders. While they've been laying low since the controversy Kobayakawa's murder drummed up, I doubt their hunger for justice has been sated. When you consider the fact that they have even more potent cyber-crime capabilities than Medjed themselves, it wouldn't have been too hard for them to force Medjed into acting as their proxy."

Damn, the detective was sharp at times. Still, there was one gaping hole in that theory. Namely, Akechi knew damn well the Phantoms played no role in Kobayakawa's death, considering the one who'd pushed him in front of that truck was Akechi himself.

"That assumes the Phantoms were responsible for Kobayakawa's passing, of course." While Akira kept his voice light, a dangerous edge could still be detected in its lilt.

Akechi leant forwards, lips curling. "Oh? You have evidence to the contrary?"

"I'm not a fucking detective, Akechi." Akira rolled his eyes. "I don't have evidence of anything. Still… I certainly have suspicions." He met the other teen's deep crimson eyes. "Compare Kobayakawa to Kaneshiro and Kamoshida. The latter were both injured at the site of the Phantoms' attack, yet Kobayakawa died well away from his office. Maybe he did just off himself with no outside influence, but I've heard rumours around school that he passed away right in front of a police station. An odd place to kill yourself after being accused of a crime, and even an odder place for the Phantoms to finish the job."

The detective tilted his head. "So, you're insinuating another party is at fault?"

Akira snorted. "The Phantoms have pissed off a lot of people. Such as... I dunno, law enforcement?" His grin grew honeyed. "They have a lot to gain by framing the Phantoms for murder, don't they?"

The boys were so close now, they were almost touching. Akira met Akechi's eyes unflinchingly. I know you know who I am. But do you know I know who you are?

At the last second, however, Akechi suddenly pulled back, and whatever brewing tension there was between them was severed as the boy donned his poncy celebrity mask yet again.

"That's certainly an interesting theory you've come up with, Kurusu. Perhaps if you find some actual evidence, I can look into it." Akechi rose to his feet and gave Akira a polite bow. "Unfortunately, it's getting late, and I have work that needs to be done. It was nice seeing you again – let's do this another time, shall we?

A flicker of surprise ran through him, and Akira barely bit back his sigh. "… Yeah, sure. Let me know when you're free again."

Akechi turned away and strolled out the door, giving Akira a quick wave before vanishing from sight. A pang of disappointment pulsed through the scruffy-haired teen's chest as he was left alone with his drink. Taking a sip, the tangy liquid failed to sate him at all. They had been on the brink of something, but Akechi had backed out at the very last second. Still, what the hell was Akira expecting? For Akechi to say 'you know, you're right – I did murder Kobayakawa'?

Sighing, he put down his nearly full drink and walked out of the club.

…..

Akira was still feeling somewhat discontented by the time he arrived home. When he walked through Leblanc's doors, he saw Sojiro was deep in conversation with a customer, and decided to just go straight to his attic. Akira almost walked right past them, until he registered the woman's voice, and did a double-take. While she was wearing a light dress as opposed to the kimono he'd last seen her in, it was undoubtedly Rukia.

Blinking, he mawkishly rubbed his eyes as she continued chatting to Sojiro like she didn't have a care in the world. "It's so tragic." Rukia sniffed melodramatically. "My poor uncle… but now, he has his darling niece to look after him!"

Sojiro shook his head as he cleaned a mug. "My condolences – I hope he gets better soon. The air is meant to be good for you in remote places like that, right?"

"That's what the doctors say." She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, before letting out an exaggerated gasp of shock. "Oh, Akira! Since when have you been here?"

Both of his brows rose to the ceiling. For god's sake, she would have noticed him the second he stepped into Yogen-Jaya. How the hell does Sojiro buy into this bullshit? While Rukia wasn't quite as bad as acting as Ann was, she sure as hell wasn't good.

He didn't have time to reply, however, as the Shinigami leapt off her stool and clamped onto his arm like a vice. "Thank you so much for the coffee, Boss, but I really must catch up with Akira now. I have so much to tell him about my time in the countryside!"

Sojiro's eyes twinkled knowingly. "Have fun, you kids. Don't do anything I wouldn't!"

Internally, Akira groaned. Great. Why does everyone think I'm sleeping with my friends?

He didn't voice his complaints, however, as he was too busy being dragged up into Leblanc's attic. Akira didn't know what on earth the Gotei 13 made their Gigais from, but he was pretty sure Rukia's dainty frame shouldn't have this much upper body strength.

The second they were out of Sojiro's hearing range, the levity dropped off Rukia's face like a brick, and when she turned towards Akira, her lips were pursed in a cold frown. "Contact the Phantoms – Ishida and Sae-san included. There's something I need to tell you."

…..

It was already late by the time Rukia had arrived in the World of the Living, so the Phantoms decided to postpone their meeting to the day after instead, Futaba managing to wrangle permission to use the Urahara Shōten from her mother. Akira offered the Shinigami his couch (there was no point worrying about proprietary given Sojiro probably thought they'd reached third base already), but unsurprisingly she decided to catch the train to Ann's instead.

After school, everyone headed straight to the store – even Sae managed to get off early when a spontaneous power cut shut down the SIU. As they entered the Shōten the prosecutor shot Futaba a suspicious glance, but probably realised she was better off not knowing and left the hacker alone. As the Phantoms settled down around the kotatsu in his living room, with the exception of Ann and Ryuji who plonked themselves down on some spare cushions instead, Rukia rose to her feet. While Akira had gotten a glimpse of a grim-faced Yoruichi whispering to a stoic Tessai, none of the Shōten's inhabitants had joined them that day.

"We've discovered Aizen's true goals." Rukia stately flatly with no preamble. "He aims to kill the Soul King, the symbolic ruler of the Soul Society. To enter the realm where the King lives, however, he needs a special key – the Ōken." She paused, taking in a deep breath. "… To create it, he's planning on performing a ritual that will require the destruction of one hundred thousand souls along with a spiritually enriched land of at least an eight-kilometre radius. A land located in the World of the Living."

A stunned silence followed Rukia's proclamation. Akira could barely comprehend it – he didn't even know the Soul Society had a king, and now, Aizen was planning to massacre a bunch of humans in some fucked-up regicide attempt?!

Sae was the first to recover from her shock. "I'm sorry – are you saying he's seriously planning on killing one hundred thousand people and blowing up a fucking city?!"

Rukia shrugged. "To cut a long story short, yes."

Suddenly, Uryū inhaled sharply, and Akira whirled around to face the Quincy as his Reiatsu began to spike. The boy's skin was even paler than usual as he hissed, teeth clenched. "This so-called spiritually enriched land… It's Karakura, isn't it?! That's why he's been sending Arrancar here – they're scouts!"

Akira's breath hitched in his throat as everything slid neatly into place. Karakura had always had an unusual amount of ambient Reiatsu – Akira had wondered what that meant, and it finally looked like he'd received his answer.

Rukia grimaced. "… That's the conclusion we came to as well."

Frowning, the frizzy-haired teen looked to the ground, emotions warring in his stomach. No wonder Rukia had been so desperate to talk to them. Before now, Aizen had been nothing but a distant worry – Akira was concerned for his Shinigami friends, of course, but ultimately the situation was none of his business. He'd never been more wrong in his fucking life.

A blot of Reiatsu approached the room's entrance, and Akira looked over his shoulder just in time to see Urahara lounge against the door. The shopkeeper's pose was superficially relaxed as he played with his fan, but there was an undercurrent to the man's Reiatsu and his bucket hat cleverly obscured his face.

"Unfortunately, that isn't even the worst of the news." Urahara answered with an exhausted sigh.

Ryuji's brows rose to the ceiling. "Uh, Rukia just told us Aizen's gonna kill one hundred thousand people unless we stop him! How much worse can it get?!"

Rukia's shoulders slumped and she looked at the shopkeeper, eyes pleading.

Snapping his fan shut, Urahara entered the room properly. "While the Soul King's political powers are purely ceremonial, his physical ones are not. If Aizen successfully usurps his position… he will gain the ability to alter the boundaries of the worlds as he sees fit. It would not be an understatement to say he would become akin to a god."

Akira rubbed his eyes – Urahara's proclamation had taken just one step too far into the realm of the batshit insane for his liking. Sure, Akira had heard Aizen's deranged little godhood speech, but he hadn't thought the ex-Captain was being entirely literal about it.

"Okay, what the fuck." Futaba stated, eyes wide. "Are you saying if Aizen's evil magic ritual works, he'll be able to control reality itself?!"

"Thankfully, it's not quite that easy." Urahara waved a hand lackadaisically. "He'll have to fight through both the Gotei 13 and the Royal Guard first. Arrancar army or not, the chances of him beating the latter are… minimal at best."

While they were probably meant to be reassuring, the shopkeeper's words didn't make Akira feel any better at all.

Rukia trembled, voice laden with so much vehemence it almost poisoned the air. "He's going to kill all of those people for nothing."

"Fuckin' hell." Ryuji gawped, jaw-dropping. The blond rubbed his temples, before straightening up "We can't just sit on our asses and let 'im do that. So what if Aizen's crazy godhood plan isn't gonna work? He's still plannin' to destroy a whole town along with everyone in it!"

"I concur." Makoto nodded, mouth drawn in a thin line. "It was one thing to take a backseat while Aizen was just threatening the Soul Society, but now…"

Futaba bobbed her head rapidly, blanching. "Uh, yeah, count me in! I kinda like the world existing and stuff?"

"Ryuji's right." Ann crossed her arms, brows furrowed. "What sort of people would we be if we just stood back and let all those people die?"

Uryū clenched his fist so hard his knuckles grew white. "Karakura is my home. I won't allow Aizen to touch a single hair on its citizens' heads – I swear that on my pride as a Quincy."

"… As much as I'd like to tell you to leave this to the adults or the Shinigami, I don't think we have the luxury of choice." Sae sighed, expression troubled. "I'll support you however I can."

As his friends spoke one by one, Akira could feel his resolve growing. They were right – they couldn't allow this to pass. Akira would stop Aizen, and if he died trying, so be it.

Shoulders straight, he looked Rukia dead in the eyes, and when Akira spoke his every word was as firm as iron. "The Phantoms are at your disposal, Rukia. If Aizen thinks he can mess with our world, he's got another one coming."

Rukia's expression softened. "… Thank you, everyone."

"In terms of what the Phantoms can realistically contribute to the cause, I'd like you to continue hunting down the perpetrator of the Vanishing Incidents." Urahara addressed Sae. "Several of Wakaba's suspects are up for election and it would be an absolute nightmare if they got the top job. Any chance of bringing the Conspiracy to heel will vanish, and the devastation they could potentially unleash if they used her research is profound."

Sae shot Urahara a quizzical glance. "Are you really sure that's a priority right now? As dangerous as the White-Masked Killer is, they're not exactly going to cause the end of the world."

Urahara nodded. "Most definitely. While Aizen might be more dangerous in the short term, the Conspiracy could have a devastating effect if left untouched. Let's say they decide to... hm, arm Japan with spiritually enhanced weapons and cause World War Three. The resulting casualties would make Aizen's ritual look like child's play."

"Urahara's right." Rukia sighed. "Quite frankly, we simply don't know enough about the Conspiracy to discount them as a threat. Hopefully, things will come together and you'll be able to shut them down before Aizen strikes."

Sae still didn't look entirely convinced, but after a moment's hesitation, she nodded in agreement.

The conversation briefly lulled, but resumed as Makoto cleared her throat. "On that note, do you have any estimates on when Aizen will attempt to put his plans into fruition? I assume it's not in the imminent future, otherwise we probably wouldn't be discussing it like this, but…"

"While the Hōgyoku can already create Arrancar, it'll take time to awaken to its maximum potential after being in a dormant state for so long. If my estimates are correct, that should happen early winter." Urahara explained. "I would expect Aizen to attack around then – even if he jumps the gun, I doubt we'll see much activity from him until mid-November at the earliest."

"… So, how can the rest of us help?" Ann bit her lip. "As much as I want to kick Aizen's ass, we were all pretty useless when it came to actually fighting the Arrancar."

"We get stronger. We've got almost two months, and I intend to use it." Akira narrowed his eyes, something dark and brooding storming within them. They didn't have the time to be weak, not anymore – least of all him.

"Kurusu-kun is right." Urahara's eyes flicked in his direction. "Hitsugaya and his team should be able to protect Karakura for now – you should all focus on honing your powers. There's a chance you could play a pivotal role in the final battle - none of you are under Kyōka Suigetsu's thrall after all."

"I'll make sure to inform you of any new developments." Rukia smiled gently. "I didn't want to risk any online communication lest Aizen intercepted it, but now that you know the gist of the situation, it shouldn't be too hard to keep things vague."

With that, some of the cloying tension in the room began to abate. Worry still nipped at Akira's heels as a burning fire of righteous rage kindled in his chest, but his muscles began to loosen. As terrible as Rukia's news was, at least they had something resembling a game plan. All hope was not lost.

Uryū settled into his seat and shot Rukia an inquisitive look. "Honestly, I'm surprised they even informed you of Aizen's plan to begin with, given you gave up your position in the Kuchiki family. Do we have Abarai to thank for this?"

A coy expression crossed the Shinigami's face. "Actually, I was there when Captain Ukitake discovered Aizen's goals. Here, look." Reaching into her dress's pocket, she withdrew a pill Akira immediately identified as a Soul Candy. Swallowing it whole, Rukia's Gigai hopped away as the Shinigami's soul materialised.

Ann was the first to notice. The blonde gasped, eyes growing as wide as saucers before she squealed. "You got promoted?!"

The Phantoms crowded around her as Rukia showed off the badge on her bicep, smirking. "I was uncertain about accepting the position, but Captain Ukitake was confident I could do the job. It's lucky I did – otherwise, none of you would be hearing this."

Ryuji blinked, rubbing his chin. "Wait a mo'… if you're Lieutenant level, how the hell did you get your ass kicked by that Hollow when you first met us?"

Akira arched a brow. "Uh, because she had to jump in front of it to save our lives?"

"Thank you, Akira." Rukia huffed pointedly before she let out a sigh. "Admittedly, I was hardly at my best back then - I hadn't talked to Sode no Shirayuki in years."

A flicker of warmth ignited in his chest as Rukia smiled warmly at him. He'd been the one to finally free her of her self-blame and loathing.

And then you almost killed her on the Sōkyoku Hill.

Akira's momentary joy gutted and died at the intrusive thought. Instead of wallowing in his misery, however, he embraced the feeling. It was a reminder of what he had to do.

Subconsciously, the frizzy-haired teen thought that he'd always known the solution to his Hollow problem. He'd just been scared to admit it, however – it was ridiculously risky, he'd be betraying his friends, etc, etc. He'd shielded himself from the truth with a wall of excuses, but his walls had been knocked down. He didn't have the luxury of sitting back and waiting for time to solve his problems - Tasogare no Dorobō had once said that Akira would be willing to perform all kinds of sacrilegious acts for the sake of justice, and he was right.

Akira would be more than happy to make a deal with the devil if it would save one hundred thousand lives. One internal apology to his friends later, he withdrew his phone from his pocket, and opened his chat with Akechi.

Akira: It's time to cut this game of cat and mouse down to the chase. Meet me at the Jazz Jin ASAP.

The second he hit the send button, a wave of apprehension crashed over him like a tsunami. Are you stupid? A voice at the back of his mind hissed. What have you done? Swallowing, Akira dismissed the thoughts. The time for regret was long past – he'd made his bed, and now it was time to lie in it.

Rukia sighed as she broke away from the others. "While I'd love to reminisce with you, I need to return to the Soul Society. This technically wasn't a sanctioned mission, after all."

Sae rose to her feet. "I should probably be going too. I've got work I need to complete." As she moved to the door, she glanced back at Makoto. "Why don't you get dinner with your friends? You should enjoy some downtime before things get too hectic."

A flicker of surprise crossed Makoto's face, but she then gave her sister a warm grin. "Sure! I'll try to bring back something nice for you."

Giving her sister one last smile, Sae disappeared in a flash. At a far more leisurely pace, the rest of the Phantoms exited the store, chatting amongst each other. Gathering in the dusty yard, they gave Rukia their farewells – Ann crushed the poor Lieutenant with a hug, while Ryuji and Makoto requested she give their regards to the Shinigami they'd befriended on their journeys. Eventually, though, the petite Shinigami was forced to turn away and open up a Senkaimon.

As the gateway appeared, Rukia gave them one last bittersweet smile. "Hopefully, the next time we meet will be under more serendipitous circumstances."

Akira nodded despite knowing that wouldn't be the case. "Until next time, Snow."

Her expression grew fond, and she shook her head in amusement before disappearing into the portal, which promptly snapped shut behind her. For a moment, the chatter ceased, Rukia's exit leaving them off-balanced.

Turning to his friends, Akira shot them a grin. "I better be off too – I've got plans tonight."

Not even waiting to see their reactions, he mustered his Reiatsu and disappeared in a flash of shunpo.

...

Ann blinked owlishly at the spot Akira was standing in but a moment ago, and she wasn't the only one. One second, he'd been there, and the next, he'd disappeared in the blink of an eye. While things had grown quiet the second Rukia left, currently, the silence was so oppressive it crushed down on the Phantoms like a landslide. A wave of incredulity ran through Ann – she didn't even realise you could use shunpo when in your human body!

Ryuji pouted, shoulders drooping. "… But what about dinner?"

The blonde frowned, tilting her head as worry flickered in her chest. "Is it just me, or has Akira been acting kinda… off, lately?"

Futaba's face wrinkled as she nodded along to Ann's words. "Yo, Makoto – you're not running any more top-secret operations, are you?"

Makoto pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, I'm not. Isn't it obvious what's wrong?" At the lack of responses, she sighed. "It's his inner Hollow."

The disappointment in the air quickly shifted into something far darker. Eyes darting to the side, Ann grimaced. Makoto was right – it was obvious. She was just the only one of them who'd been able to muster up the courage to say it. Even Akira himself oscillated between adamantly avoiding the topic or treating it as nothing but a minor inconvenience. Ann couldn't really blame him - it wasn't like a pep talk would get rid of the soul-devouring monster inside him that could and would hijack his body at will. The only thing Ann could offer Akira were empty platitudes, and that was even worse than nothing.

Uryū shook his head. "It's good that he's being conscientious about the situation, but honestly, it's beginning to verge into paranoia."

"Still… there was a fire in his eyes I haven't seen in a while this evening." Makoto mused, rubbing her chin. "Perhaps he's thought of a way to control it?"

Hope flickered in Ann's chest, and she prayed that the brunette was right. Watching Akira's usually unflappable confidence waver and fold made something in her chest ache. He had both literally and figuratively saved her life – her friend deserved so much more than having such a heavy burden weighing on his soul.

Ryuji was still clearly feeling disgruntled, however. "That'd be great and all, but I wish he'd actually told us that instead of bolting off fuck knows where."

"Maybe it's something he needs to do by himself?" Ann ventured, feeling obligated to stand up for their leader. Still, the words tasted like ash on her tongue. Ryuji had a point – it did hurt that Akira had given them a threadbare excuse before running off.

"… Well, standing around here and talking about it isn't going to change anything. Akira's not here, but we are." Uryū sighed. "It's a bit early for dinner, so how about I show you around the town?"

Makoto mulled things over, nodding. "Why not?" Her expression then grew grim. "It… might be a good idea to familiarise ourselves with Karakura's layout, just in case."

Aaaaaaand yep, the mood was officially ruined, again. Ann's stomach twisted. Maybe the real reason Akira had left them in the dust was because he couldn't bear going out like nothing was wrong after the bombshell Rukia had dropped. The idea of window shopping and grabbing a bite to eat didn't exactly appeal to her right now, either. Still, Sae-san had a point when she told us to relax tonight – it's not like stressing ourselves out is going to make Aizen go away. Plus, Ann couldn't think of a single time when a warm crepe or refreshing parfait hadn't made her feel at least slightly better.

As the others turned to leave, however, the blonde found herself stalling. While it really didn't matter if she started training today or tomorrow, deep down inside, a part of her screamed that even two whole months wouldn't be anywhere near enough time for her to get ready for the upcoming battle. It was then though that Renji's words from the eve of Rukia's execution returned to her.

Bankai could increase a Shinigami's power tenfold.

And Urahara – crazy Shinigami uber-genius – was barely ten metres away.

Ann cleared her throat, and her friends halted, glancing over their shoulders. "Actually, before we go, I'd like to quickly talk to Urahara about something. I mean... if anyone knows any way to get us as strong as possible in the shortest amount of time, it's going to be him."

Ryuji lit up. "Ooh, that's a great idea! I'll come too!"

Makoto smiled. "Good luck – we'll wait out here. I think Uryū and I would be better served talking to Sis when she's free."

The blondes walked back into the Shōten, and Ann couldn't help but flash Ryuji an excited grin. With an affectionate bump to her shoulder, he returned the gesture. Even if Akira wasn't there, at least they still had each other. Urahara hadn't yet retreated to the of his shop - instead, the shopkeeper was counting the money in his till. Not that Ann knew why – she was pretty sure the store was just a front for black-market Shinigami activities.

The man greeted them with a smile. "Ah, Takamaki-chan, Sakamoto-kun! I was expecting to see the two of you." As they met him at the counter, he raised a brow. "No Kurusu-kun?"

Ryuji's expression turned mulish, and Ann decided to step in. "He's busy, unfortunately."

Urahara mulled over her words, and in the end, gave her brisk a nod. "Well, what can I do for you?"

A flash of doubt crept over her – Bankai is meant to take ten years to develop, I'm being stupid – but Ann nonetheless squared her shoulders. Who cares if it was a dumb question? At least she would have tried. "I want to get Bankai. No - I need it."

An unreadable expression crossed Urahara's face, and Ryuji's head snapped her way in shock. "Wait, seriously? Ain't that meant to take years?"

Her lips thinned as she nodded. "Yeah – that's why I wanted to talk to Urahara about it. Is there any way to, uh, speed things up a bit?"

The shopkeeper fluttered his fan. "So, you're essentially asking me, a humble shopkeeper, if I have a way of cutting down a decades-long spiritual journey, into… say, a matter of weeks?"

Ann cringed – her plea sounded ridiculous, phrased like that. "… Yes?"

Urahara leant forward, expression coy. "I'll do you one better. How about three days?"

She blinked, slowly processing his words. "Wait, what?!" Ann shrieked when it finally hit her. What the hell? Three DAYS?!

"Dude, forreal?!" Ryuji gawped, just as stunned as she was.

A large grin broke out across Urahara's stubbled face. "Yes, it's very real – I used this method to gain Bankai myself. Come back here Saturday after school, Takamaki-chan - it'll be easier if we only need to arrange for you to take a day or two off."

Ryuji shuffled from foot to foot, bouncing with excitement. "Can I do it too? What about Akira? Can he join us as well?!"

Urahara's lips dropped, and pity panged in Ann's stomach, already knowing the shopkeeper's answer before he spoke. "I'm afraid this option is only suitable for Takamaki-chan."

"Wait, what? But why?" Ryuji pouted, crossing his arms

Urahara shook his head. "I am the only Shinigami who has gained Bankai this way for a reason. It's extremely dangerous, and if you fail to achieve your goal before the time limit is up… the consequences will be dire. Very dire. As in, permanently crippling yourself on a spiritual level dire."

The delinquent's complaints quickly cut off.

Ann felt her eyes widen. "Ryuji kind of has a point though… why just me? Akira has more Reiatsu than I do, and he's smarter and faster too." She then grimaced, stomach twisting. "It's not because of his Hollow, is it?"

"Not entirely, though that does factor into why I think this method would be inappropriate for him at this current stage. Ultimately, it's about your bond with your Zanpakutō." Urahara shook his head. "You've manifested her in the real world before, haven't you, Takamaki-chan?"

For a moment, she paused, before nodding. "Um, yeah. Shinkubi healed some of my wounds when I fought Komamura-san. I don't think I can just summon her willy-nilly, though."

"That's fine." He waved a hand dismissively. "The fact that she even heeded your call once means she believes you have the potential to wield her power in full. The foundations of your Bankai are already in place. All you need to do is awaken said potential."

Huh. Ann couldn't help but feel chuffed. Shinkubi really thought that Ann was worthy of Bankai already? Warmth bubbled in her chest, as a small grin crossed the blonde's face.

I'll prove that your faith in me isn't misplaced!


Apologies for disappearing - life has been somewhat hectic lately. I'll get this up to date with the AO3 version sooner rather than later!