Does she deserve the death penalty? Of course not. Renji shakes his head, the conversation replaying in his mind. Even without Captain Aizen's words, he already knows the sentence is absurd. The reality is that Shinigami are usually granted a lot of leniency, so it's shocking when he hears about Rukia's punishment.

Strange circumstances, conspiracy... It's not as if Renji can't imagine such things happening behind the scenes. But those thoughts were distant, things he never gave much consideration—until now. Now, when his friend is caught in the web.

Renji sighs. He hasn't seen Captain Kuchiki since they brought Rukia back. Perhaps the Captain is requesting a lighter sentence—even exile with sealed spiritual energy would be better. The man is cold, but Rukia is his sister. Family.

The less Renji thinks about his Captain and Rukia's frosty relationship, the better it is for his headache.

He's so lost in thought that he nearly jumps out of his skin when someone calls his name. That's what distracted thoughts lead to—mild embarrassment.

Speaking of siblings, there's another one—one with a much better relationship. The difference between them is like night and day. Renji wonders, not for the first time, if blood really matters that much in family. The evidence seems to say it does.

The man waves at him, cheerful as always, an easy grin on his face.

"Captain Shisane," Renji greets when they're closer. It still feels strange, seeing that open expression after being around the one who always gives off an air of polite courtesy. Captain Aizen is friendly, sure, but the man rarely shows much emotion—unlike his brother.

The man slings an arm over Renji's shoulder and drags him in the direction he had just come from. "Why the frown? Something wrong? I heard you got promoted—I thought you'd be happier than this."

Rapid-fire words, nothing unusual. Business as usual for Shisane. He must not know yet, considering the captain has been on assignment in the World of the Living for the past few months. Longer than Rukia, Renji's mind supplies.

"Rukia's been brought back," Renji says. He already knows where the captain is headed and follows without protest. Maybe some conversation will help flush out the concerns tangled in his mind.

Captain Aizen had given him a chance to speak his mind a few minutes ago, but Renji hadn't said much. It would be unseemly for him to rant, so to speak, to his former direct superior, no matter the circumstances. Or maybe Captain Shisane is simply better than his brother at coaxing problems from someone's heart. Either way, it doesn't matter.

Renji already feels a muffling cloak settle over him the moment Shisane places an arm on his shoulder. He suspects it's some kind of original Kido. The man doesn't even utter an incantation to activate the spell.

"Byakuya's sister, right?" Shisane hums, as if fishing for a memory. "So, everything's good, then?" He tilts his head back to look at the sky, then snaps his fingers, summoning his pet bird.

"She is to be punished. Death penalty by Sōkyoku."

"Huh?!" Shisane turns his head so fast, Renji half expects him to get whiplash. "Why on earth would they do that?" The open incredulity in his voice feels like a validation. It's good to know someone else shares his feelings.

"Unauthorized creation of a Substitute Shinigami... and late return," Renji explains.

Shisane raises an eyebrow, his skepticism clear, and stretches out his free hand, palm up, as though waiting for something. Not a second later, an owl swoops down, a large package dangling from its talons.

Shisane takes the package, and the owl promptly perches on his shoulder. He hums thoughtfully before speaking. "The commotion earlier—does it have something to do with Rukia's situation?"

"Yes." The thought of the boy irritates Renji. Rukia wouldn't be in this mess if they had never met in the first place. "To rescue her." The words come out clipped, and though he doesn't say it aloud, the idea feels ridiculous—a dream at best. Yet somehow, the captain seems to read his thoughts.

"A loyal friend," Shisane says with a nod and a small smile.

"If only I could feel the same," Renji mutters. "More like a bringer of trouble. They're just making the situation worse."

"Risking their lives for someone they've known for, what, two months at best?" Shisane sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his chest with exaggerated flair. The movement startles the bird on his shoulder, making it squawk in protest. "Not a lot of people would do that—not me, certainly."

So confident to admit it aloud.

"Captain Aizen spoke to me earlier, said the situation is fishy."

At the mention of his brother, Shisane's expression shifts into something strange—something Renji can't quite decipher.

"Sousuke said that?" Shisane asks, sounding skeptical. "Usually, he's such a liar. But he's being truthful this time..." His voice trails off, brow furrowing. "Oddly helpful."

Renji doesn't understand why Captain Shisane so often claims his brother is a liar, but since they always seem close, he figures it's just one of those sibling quirks—blaming each other for everything and nothing at the same time. Not that he truly understands. He has no family. The closest he has is Rukia, and she already has her own.

"Captain Aizen is always helpful," Renji says, keeping his voice neutral.

The look he gets in response is poisonous.

After a few seconds of silence, Shisane finally speaks. "Will you help the Ryoka, then?"

If anyone else asks, he would deny it. But this one, "Perhaps."

The captain beams at him in response.

"That's great! Imagine how brokenhearted she must be if everyone she trusted abandoned her. The mind might accept, but the heart feels something else."

And that's the crux of the matter, isn't it? Renji doesn't want to abandon Rukia. He doesn't want to turn his back on her. He's willing to do far more than just assist the Ryoka—so long as it doesn't put Rukia's safety in jeopardy.

Renji stops walking, and Shisane follows suit. "Captain, I have to do something."

Understanding what he means, Shisane retracts his arm from Renji's shoulder. "Well, I'm sure everything will be fine, and no one of importance will die."

It's a strange way of saying "good luck," but Renji will take it.

Sousuke senses someone approaching long before he hears the soft thumps of footsteps outside his office. The presence in the back of his mind is familiar—it has been there as long as he can remember.

The door slides open with such force that it rattles against the hinges.

"Can you be a bit gentler?" Sousuke says without looking up, continuing to recheck every single document on his desk. There shouldn't be anything of import, but he can never be too sure—not with a brother who has a habit of misplacing things.

A squawk breaks his focus, and he looks up to see Shisane melting face-first into the couch. The owl, unimaginatively named Rokuro, is grooming its ruffled feathers on the armrest, talons digging into it. There will be a mess of marks, he knows.

"I am plenty gentle," comes the muffled voice from the cushion.

Sousuke hums, tapping his fingers on the desk. It's unlikely Shisane will leave him in peace, so he sets down the documents and walks around the desk toward the couch. "Yes, like an ox in a china shop."

There's no response, no quip—just silence. Raising an eyebrow, he pulls on Shisane's braid, lifting his face off the couch. "You're not sleeping, are you?"

"Ow!"

Sousuke already lets go of the braid before Shisane can swat his hand away. He doesn't want to say it, but it stings more than he'd like to admit to be hit by that casual move.

"If there's even a single strand missing, you can say goodbye to your right hand." Shisane turns around, propping himself up on the armrest—booting the owl off—and stretches his legs out.

He truly enjoys encroaching on Sousuke's space. Unbothered by the protest, he removes the legs from the couch and sits down. "Oh? Let me remind you that you're the one who lost an arm the last time we sparred." Shisane gives him a sharp look as a hint of smile forms on his face. "It's impossible for you to already forget; it's only been six months."

"You took a cheap shot!" Shisane jabs a finger toward him. "What do you want me to do? Let you cut my hair?" His expression makes it clear that the idea is utterly inconceivable to him.

"Yes," Sousuke replies, and Shisane gives him a side-eye for it. His brother is undoubtedly insulting him in his mind, and Sousuke knows it.

"Anyway, I still have more total wins than you—3200 to your 3198," Shisane claims. The number is wrong. Sousuke knows it, because he keeps his own tally. But Shisane won't hear any of it, and likely will accuse him of cheating if he says otherwise.

"Also, you have no talent for fashion. Please, stick to your usual illegal experiments; you won't hurt my eyes that way." Shisane picks up the package on the table, placing it on his lap before starting to open it. Sousuke can already guess what's inside.

Immediately, a spread of food lays itself out on Sousuke's table—still steaming hot. It's a habit that's been running for more than a hundred years. His brother watches with an expectant look.

Lucky for Sousuke, Kyoka Suigetsu is already active before Shisane even arrives. He doesn't have to bother coming up with a dozen excuses about why he'll finish it later. It's truly the bane of his life.

"You're not running around the Living World for this, are you?" Sousuke asks, eyeing the spread. Shisane loves to create stupid, useless things that would be better used elsewhere. Using temporal stasis—a forbidden spell—for food. Sousuke sometimes wants to strangle him. It would be downright horrifying if his brother got caught because of his own idiocy. Sousuke would probably just say, "I told you so."

But no, Sousuke knows Shisane isn't an idiot, even if he still has doubts about his brother's judgment—especially when he does things like this on a regular basis.

"Course not. I'm checking on my project. It'll be ready in two or three years."

"Your project?" Sousuke raises an eyebrow at the statement. "You mean our project."

Shisane waves a dismissive hand. "Details, details. It wouldn't have even occurred to you to do that if I hadn't pointed it out."

Sousuke resists the juvenile urge to roll his eyes—barely. Shisane's fascination with humans is odd yet, at the same time, understandable. After all, humans evolve much faster than other beings. It must be fascinating for Shisane, given how deeply entrenched he usually is in 'stillness'.

"You don't think this plan is unnecessarily complicated?" Sousuke asks.

Shisane rolls his eyes and replies in a flat tone, "Who are you, and what have you done to my brother?"

Shisane picks up a dish from the table, steam still rising from it. Though it's piping hot, his brother won't feel a thing. Holding it up, he continues, "Isn't 'overcomplicated' the first requirement of your usual plans? Anyway, Brother, you need to stop talking and start eating. I want to know how it tastes."

Shisane only ever calls him Brother when he wants something—usually, to Sousuke's chagrin, a food review.

Kyoka Suigetsu is incredibly useful in this type of situation. Sousuke can't eat the entire feast by himself, but he also can't admit that, considering how deep he's dug himself into this pit of deception. It's rather short-sighted of him. How could he have known that a moment of childish naivety would come back to bite him like this?

For more than a hundred years, he's been making fraudulent reviews. Knowing his brother's pettiness, Sousuke is aware that Shisane could retaliate in countless ways. Nothing truly harmful, but certainly annoying to deal with. And with his plan nearing its conclusion, he doesn't need any distractions. So, he has to continue the charade—for a stupid reason.

"So what's with the commotion outside?" Shisane leans back on the sofa, hugging the docile bird like a makeshift pillow. Sousuke is back at his desk, sifting through reports. "Something to do with your super mongrel, I take it?"

This is the first time Shisane calls the boy that name; usually, he refers to him as his "pet project" or something along those lines.

"What's with the vitriol?" Sousuke asks without looking up, finding a misplaced experimental report in his office. It's obvious who's to blame.

"I feel no such thing," he lies without batting an eyelid. Shisane dislikes someone on a whim, but he also likes them just as quickly—there's no rhyme or reason, other than his mood. It would be foolish to pursue the topic further. His brother won't open his mouth, and even if he did, it would only be nonsense, considering his current caginess.

If there's one trait Sousuke wishes he could erase from his brother, it's his capriciousness. Shisane claims it's just to add color to his world. Sousuke doesn't think his brother is lying; the words ring true and genuine.

Shisane likes most people in Gotei 13, and his general attitude reflects that. He's not indifferent to their pain, but at the same time, Sousuke is certain that his brother would leave his post and not lift a finger to help them once his plan is set in motion. He'd prefer to watch everything unfold.

Like right now—Shisane knows his scheme. He knows it hurts the people Shisane claims to care about, but he won't stop it.

It doesn't matter whether it's out of trust that they will foil his plan or loyalty to Sousuke. Shisane won't lose any sleep over it.

Silence settles between them, lulling them into peace—only to be broken by the sharp alarm signaling an immediate captain meeting. Sousuke stands, walking out and dragging his brother along.

Someone drops silently beside him as he watches Hinamori enter the Council 46 underground building. Gin knows exactly who it is beside him—Kaname wouldn't bother speaking casually with him, Aizen is doing whatever he's doing in the building, and the others don't know where he is. The only one who could conceivably find him is the Captain of the Seventh Division.

"Captain Shisane, good day?" Gin says. He's never quite sure how he feels about the man, other than a mild distaste that's largely attributed to Shisane's relation to Aizen. The man has never harmed him or Rangiku, but the fact that Shisane is Aizen's brother is an automatic red mark in his mind.

"The best," Shisane replies, his tone flat, clearly not in a good mood. Ah, so Aizen has successfully hidden his presence from his brother, and the veil has only just been lifted. That's why Shisane is here, looking as if he wants to take a chunk out of Aizen's flesh.

Gin would love to watch it. The idea of Aizen bloodied and bruised makes him happy; the man has always shown nothing but a perfect mask in public.

Gin has heard enough of their conversations to know that they regularly maim each other. Not that Aizen would call it that—he says it's just a regular sparring session, keeping score and all.

With Shisane's shikai, as long as the person isn't dead, they won't die—even if they're losing half their body. It's a scary ability, practically miraculous. No one would die under his watch.

"Will there be any more unpleasant surprises?"

"No?"

"You don't sound so sure," the man says, sounding skeptical. Shisane decides he'd rather sit down on the roof with him than stand. A hoot catches his attention, drawing his gaze to the artificial owl that has followed the captain around for as long as Gin has known him.

This is version number six, made by the man's own brother—a surveillance unit, Gin's mind supplies. Shisane must have known that, but the man keeps asking for a new one every time the old one breaks. Gin knows Aizen is control-obsessed, but Shisane is also a weirdo who thinks privacy is a myth.

"Ouch, Captain, how could you expect me to read Captain Aizen's mind?" he says with a gesture that would irritate a lot of people. In a normal situation, Shisane would respond in a similar fashion, but the man doesn't seem amused by anything this time.

"Captain, will you sit the next conflict out?" Gin decides to ask, if only to confirm. Shisane only looks at him with mild interest every time he broaches the subject of his brother's plan, as if potentially disrupting the world order by removing the Soul King is nothing serious.

"Is this even a question?" Shisane raises an eyebrow. "I'm overdue for a vacation. I shan't be bothered by Sousuke's schemes."

"You only just came back from vacation a few days ago."

"I was working," Shisane says, but it doesn't convince anyone. Captain Shisane has never been fond of Soul Society's scenery. He's said it's uninspiring—Rukongai districts are filled with squalor, and Seireitei is filled with monotony. Those were his exact words. Most of the time, the man says it lacks color.

Gin doesn't know why he asks this. Perhaps it's because he knows this conversation won't reach Aizen's ears. Such trust—it scares him. But there's still some merit in asking. Aizen won't check the surveillance he has on Shisane, not now, after more than a century of not using it.

"What will you do if Captain Aizen's plan works?"

Shisane glances at him sideways and says, "I guess I'll have to swallow my pride and admit that his plan is better. Not that it's really true, obviously, mine is better."

Well, isn't that ominous? Two Aizens doing something of a similar nature. But this one, Gin doesn't even know anything about. His only consolation is that he'll most likely be dead by that time, so he won't have to think about it.

"And if he is defeated?"

Now, the man looks positively jubilant. Gin is certain there is no discord in their relationship. Why does he even react this way? In the end, Gin doesn't bother guessing how Shisane's mind works, only the end results.

"I'll fish him out of Muken after a few years. He needs it, to reflect on his poor life choices."

Gin snorts at the answer. "So sure he would survive it?"

"How could he not?"

Shisane is convinced Aizen would survive, no matter the result of his plan. Is this the man's way of saying he would interfere, or is it just his belief in Aizen's strength? Either way, it's nothing good for him.

They feel a fluctuation of reiatsu from inside the underground building and dash inside. The entire council hall is covered in ice, originating from an angry 10th Division Captain.

Unsurprisingly, Gin sees Hinamori gravely injured. It would have been child's play for Shisane to fix, leaving no scar—everyone in the room knows that. But Gin also knows that Shisane never helps anyone his brother has personally attacked.

It's obvious that Hitsugaya thinks the three of them are in cahoots. Not wrong, but also, not entirely correct.

Shisane clicks his tongue and says, "Oh well, one less friend for you, Sousuke," while the man in question looks unappreciative of the comment.

The words break the stillness, provoking a new barrage of icy attacks. The two of them only need to dodge the flying chunks of ice, as the rage is directed solely at Captain Aizen.

Shisane suddenly stops in his tracks, no longer bothering to dodge. Nothing lands, as any attack that comes close suddenly dissipates, as if losing reiatsu to hold onto its form.

Shisane then says, "Uh oh, Unohana is on the way."

The 7th division captain draws his sword before continuing, "And Brother, please tell the Captain-Commander my resignation letter is on his desk." Then, he stabs himself before disappearing, as if he was never in the room. Aizen doesn't look surprised—he'd expected it all along.

Well, that's just great, a secret ability. Probably his zanpakutou's true power. These two assholes love making people guess their abilities. At least Aizen is prone to talk when he's feeling confident. The other bastard, though? Not so much.

Truly such a great day.