The 7th Division is quieter than usual. Truthfully, it has been like this ever since Aizen's betrayal—and their own captain's unexpected resignation. The division, once vibrant and bustling, now feels subdued, as if the heart of it has been hollowed out.

Normally, the barracks would be filled with the lively buzz of activity—the clash of blades during sparring sessions, more often one-sided beatdowns than anything else, the hum of exchanging banter, and the unmistakable voice of Captain Shisane.

He had a presence that demanded attention, not simply because he was their captain but through sheer energy. The man was never quiet, and in many ways, his personality seemed to spill over into the division itself, bringing it a life of its own.

But now, Captain Shisane is gone.

Unlike Aizen Sousuke's betrayal—a departure that shook the Soul Society to its core with lies, schemes, and a dramatic showdown at Sokyoku Hill—Shisane's exit was unsettling in its lack of fanfare.

One day he was there, the next, he was simply gone. No formal announcement. No clear reason. No final words to his subordinates. Just an empty chair in the captain's office.

The absence hit differently for everyone. Some whispered about betrayal, about how Captain Shisane must have known what his brother was up to yet had done nothing to stop or report him. And others took Captain Shisane's letter at face value.

That day had been chaos, with every division thrown into disarray after Aizen's betrayal. The air had been thick with confusion and unease, but Takuma had noticed something as the dust began to settle. Captain Komamura—then Lieutenant Komamura—had emerged from his office, holding a letter with an expression Takuma could only describe as stunned on his face.

The letter had been left on Lieutenant Komamura's desk, neatly placed amidst the disorder of reports and documents that Captain Shisane foisted onto his lieutenant. It was unmistakably from Captain Shisane—written in his casual, almost flippant handwriting.

The letter, true to Captain Shisane's personality, hadn't even attempted to sound serious. It was as if the man didn't realize what he was leaving behind—or he simply didn't care.

Komamura!

By the time you read this, I'll be long gone. I'm leaving you with all the paperwork. You've always been better at that boring stuff anyway. Consider this letter as notice of my vacation—or maybe early retirement.

Most likely, you're going to be the captain, but that depends on the Old Man Commander. You don't have to immediately report my, well, disappearance. I've already sent another notice to the Captain-Commander's office. Anyway, don't forget to water the plants in the office. If they die, it's on you.

Don't bother looking for me. I'll come back if I feel like it—though I don't think I'll be welcomed. Who knows? Life's too short to plan everything out, even for us.

Catch you later. Or not.

- Shisane

No apology. No grand justification. It was almost as though the captain had grown bored with the Soul Society, and perhaps the very idea of being a captain. It was vague, yet somehow perfectly in line with how Shisane had always operated.

Takuma hadn't known what to feel when he first heard about it. Anger? Confusion? Betrayal? It didn't seem right for their captain to leave like that. Without a hint of why he was going, other than what he had scribbled in that infuriatingly vague letter.

Vacation? Give him a break. Captain Komamura was the one who had been drowning in paperwork for years, ever since it became clear that Captain Shisane's handwriting was so atrocious it could double as a form of encryption. What vacation could he possibly need?

The more Takuma thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. Captain Shisane had always been capricious, but this felt like a new level of impulsivity. A captain didn't just walk away—especially not during a time like this. And yet, Shisane had done exactly that.

It must have been worse for Captain Komamura. The man had served as Shisane's lieutenant for nearly a hundred years, enduring every quirk and antic with patience that bordered on saintly. And now, not only had his captain disappeared without warning, but one of his closest friends, Kaname Tousen, had also turned out to be a traitor.

Komamura's promotion was immediate, announced the very next day after the betrayal. With four empty captain seats, at least one has to be filled, and it's not a secret that Captain Komamura has achieved bankai not long after acquiring his lieutenant position. There had been no ceremony, no celebration. Just a hastily called meeting, during which the Captain-Commander had delivered the news with his usual no-nonsense demeanor.

It's only been a few days since Captain Komamura's promotion, and the workload hasn't eased up much. There are still loose ends to tie, reports to file, and adjustments to make as the division settles into its new rhythm. By the time the day's work finally winds down, Takuma feels the ache in his shoulders from hunching over his desk for too long. He stretches his arms over his head, relishing the satisfying pop of his stiff joints.

With a sigh, Takuma begins gathering his things. He doesn't stay in the barracks overnight—never has. The idea of sleeping among the people of the division has always been unappealing to him. He heads toward the door, his footsteps soft against the wooden floor.

Just as his hand reaches for the handle, a thudding sound from behind makes him pause. It's a dull, solid noise, like something—or someone—has landed on the floor. Takuma turns, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room until they settle on the source of the disturbance.

A sleek black cat sits there, on the floor by the window, its fur glistening faintly under the fading light. It's a curious sight, and Takuma finds himself staring. The cat is unnervingly composed, its golden eyes fixed on him with an intensity that feels almost human-like. It flicks its tail once, the movement slow and deliberate.

Takuma stares, his mind whirring. He's still considered young by Soul Society's standards, but that doesn't mean he's ignorant—his mother made sure of that. And if there's one thing she drilled into him, it's how to recognize power and lineage.

The cat hops gracefully onto his desk, her sleek black form settling onto the stack of papers he'd just finished organizing. Her tail flicks lazily, disturbing a few pages from its original place. Takuma scowls but doesn't make a move to shoo her off.

Why is someone from the Shihouin Clan here?

"You're making a mess," he mutters under his breath.

The cat doesn't seem the least bit concerned. Instead, she stretches, her claws lightly scraping the wood, and then fixes her golden eyes on him. "Kisaragi Takuma, bring me to your mother," she says again, her voice smooth and imperious.

Takuma is holding the papers in one hand while his other rubs at the back of his neck. "Mother won't deny a Shihouin scion as a guest," he replies, his tone flat. He bites back the rest of his thoughts—so you can go without me. He makes a point of organizing the papers again, stacking them neatly—he can't stand anything else.

If the cat could raise an eyebrow, Takuma is sure she would have done so. Instead, her smooth voice cuts through his hesitation. "Well, it's been a hundred years since I've seen your lovely mother, and I'm not visiting on behalf of my clan. This is private and I'm sure your mother prefers this to remain so."

Takuma's frown deepens. His mother has never mentioned being close to anyone. She knows everyone of importance from the other noble clans, but always on a business basis, never personal. The cat's claim is impossible to verify.

The cat seems to sense his doubt. Her tail flicks lazily as she adds, "It's about your ex-captain."

Takuma stiffens, his hands pausing over the now-organized stack of papers. Of course, it has to come back to Captain Shisane. Everything seems to lately.

He doesn't sigh, but it's a near thing. His mother isn't going to be happy with him for bringing such a troublesome guest unannounced, but leaving this unresolved isn't an option. Not with that name hanging between them like a blade ready to drop.

"Fine," he says at last, his voice heavy with resignation. "Follow me."

The cat hops gracefully from the desk, landing silently on the floor. She waits for him to lead, her golden eyes glinting with quiet satisfaction. Troublesome doesn't even begin to cover it, Takuma thinks as he slides the door open and steps out into the night.

The walk to the Kisaragi compound is silent. Though Takuma can feel the cat's gaze on him occasionally, she doesn't speak, and he doesn't bother trying to fill the quiet. It's only been a few days since the chaos with the human invaders, they haven't even left, but Seireitei is nothing if not efficient in this matter. The streets are clean, the damage repaired, and the order has been restored as though nothing had happened.

When they reach the gates of the Kisaragi compound, Takuma nods to the guards, who bow in acknowledgment but don't question him or his peculiar guest. Inside, the compound is immaculate, a mirror to his mother's taste.

The main wing, where his mother prefers to spend her time is filled with servants. Takuma steps inside, the cat trailing behind him. He doesn't have to announce himself; the staff already know him. A servant bows as he enters and quietly steps away to inform his mother of his arrival.

His mother is seated in the central room, the soft glow of the lanterns casting a warm light over her composed figure. As Takuma enters, she lifts her gaze, her eyes piercing yet unreadable. "Takuma and..." She trails off, her attention shifting to the cat beside him. "A guest."

Takuma doesn't miss the subtle shift in her demeanor, the slight narrowing of her eyes as she sizes up the cat. She doesn't ask any questions, her tone matter-of-fact as she adds, "This conversation is private."

The order is clear. Takuma hesitates for only a moment before nodding and stepping back. He's no stranger to his mother's way of handling matters. Mother will inform him if she thinks it's something he should know.

Yoruichi and Kisaragi Himari sit across from each other, a silent deadlock hanging in the air between them. Both women are observing each other, measuring and calculating in equal parts.

After what seems like an eternity, Himari blinks slowly, her eyes never leaving Yoruichi's form. Her voice is smooth as she speaks, "Well, Yoruichi-kun, why don't you shift back to your human form?"

Yoruichi quirks an eyebrow, her golden cat eyes glinting in amusement. She stretches out in her feline form, languid and relaxed, completely unbothered by Himari's gaze. "I'm not sure you would appreciate a naked woman in your vicinity," she replies, her tone teasing.

Himari's expression doesn't change, but her eyes gleam with irritation. She taps her finger onto the table, a small sound that echoes in the otherwise quiet room. The deliberate gesture is a signal.

The sound of a light footfall breaks the silence as a servant appears. The servant kneels beside her mistress, and Himari leans forward, whispering something in her ear, her words so soft that even Yoruichi can't catch them. The servant nods and disappears just as quickly as she came.

Moments later, the servant returns, holding a neatly folded set of clothes, which she places gently next to the cushion where Yoruichi sits. Yoruichi's golden eyes flicker to the clothes briefly before settling back on Himari. A slow, playful smirk tugs at her lips. "Well," she says, her voice lilting with amusement, "a guest has to follow the host's rules, after all."

o~o

Yoruichi leans back slightly, now in her human form, resting one arm casually on her knee. "Your home is as lovely as I remember," she remarks, her tone light and conversational. "It hasn't changed much over the years."

The last time she visited the Kisaragi estate in any official capacity had been several years before the debacle with the Visored. Back then, the main line had just adopted someone from a branch family and announced him as the heir.

Himari offers a faint smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "We value stability. Change for the sake of change is rarely productive." Clearly, this isn't a stance any of her true offspring have inherited.

Yoruichi hums in agreement, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of the teacup before her. "True enough. Though sometimes, change isn't a choice—it's thrust upon us, isn't it?"

Himari's gaze sharpens, but she remains silent, her expression inscrutable.

The former captain takes a sip of tea, her tone still light as she continues, "Seireitei's been busy cleaning up after recent... events. Efficient as ever, though I'd wager some scars will take longer to fade."

Himari lets out a barely audible scoff, so faint it could almost be missed. "Events that you orchestrated, you mean?" Her words carry an edge of accusation, pointing directly at her involvement in the chaos surrounding Kurosaki Ichigo's invasion of Seireitei.

Yoruichi responds to the accusation with a laugh, utterly unbothered. "Well, guilty as charged," she says, though the lack of actual guilt in her tone is obvious. She has nothing to regret, not really.

"But I wasn't referring to the invasion," Yoruichi continues, letting the words hang in the air as her eyes lock onto Himari, probing. She knows exactly where the conversation is headed. She bet the woman in front of her would not be as happy with the topic.

The silence stretches, and Himari's gaze hardens, a calculating stillness settling over her. Both of them understand the implications. Yoruichi also knows that Himari's status as the head of a Kisaragi clan offers no immunity from a scandal of this magnitude, even if she didn't directly participate. If her bloodline were tied to treason, the clan's reputation and standing would be in tatters no matter if they are part of the five noble clans.

Yoruichi smiles faintly, "I'm talking about the recent treason," she says, her voice light. She's trying to provoke a reaction, a slip of the tongue—anything that might reveal more about Aizen Sousuke.

"Your son," Yoruichi continues, letting the words linger, "seems to be making quite the stir in Seireitei." She speaks carefully now, her tone measured. "It's a dangerous game he's playing, don't you think? And considering your position... I imagine you have an opinion on his choices."

Yoruichi's eyes never leave Himari, studying the woman's every movement, every shift in expression.

Himari stays silent for a moment, her gaze unwavering, before responding flatly, "I have no other son other than the one who escorted you just now."

Denial. Not that Yoruichi is surprised. No one would willingly admit to having a bastard son already involved in treason.

"Come now, no need for denial," Yoruichi says with a knowing smile. "The Shihouin Clan makes it their business to know everyone's secrets."

She doesn't mention that, back when she was still the head of the Shihouin Clan, she never saw the need to investigate the Aizen twins. It's only in the past few decades that the pieces have come together.

While Yoruichi can enter Seireitei with relative ease, she cannot step onto Kisaragi's grounds without an invitation. Sneaking around would be pointless. It's only now, with this opportunity to speak directly to Kisaragi Himari, that she can confront the matter.

Himari's lips twitch slightly, a barely noticeable sign of annoyance. "Threatening me in my own home? You are an unpleasant person, Yoruichi-kun."

Yoruichi chuckles lightly, unfazed. "Let's not say that. I'm only here for some information," she replies, her tone smooth and casual.

Himari raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "About the twins?" she asks, the question laced with a touch of suspicion.

Yoruichi nods, her expression serious for the first time in this exchange. "Yes, about them."

Himari sighs, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice as she places her teacup down with a soft clink. She's no longer in the mood for pleasantries or tea. "You have to know I didn't raise them."

Yoruichi leans forward slightly, her gaze steady as she studies Himari. "I'm curious," she begins, her voice calm yet probing, "why you didn't keep them, even if they were born out of wedlock. It's not like the clan elders would have fussed much, aside from formalities. The birth rate in the noble circle is, after all, so low."

She lets the words linger in the air and then continues, "And even if you didn't want to claim them as your biological children, you could've made an arrangement that would have resulted in them being adopted into the clan later on."

Himari rhythmically taps her fingers on the table, the soft sound filling the silence before she speaks. "Why wouldn't I do that, you say?" She pauses for a brief moment, as if choosing her words carefully. "Because they are an aberration of nature." Her voice is flat, devoid of emotion, as she continues, "It's true that their bastard status wouldn't topple my position, aside from generating unpleasant gossip. But them... I don't want them nearby."

Yoruichi raises an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. A mother calling her children an aberration—not an everyday situation. There are many reasons someone might say such a thing, the most common being the circumstances surrounding the conception.

As if sensing Yoruichi's thought, Himari scoffs, a cold, dismissive sound. "I know what you're thinking, and it's not that."

"For all intents and purposes, they have no father," Himari states bluntly. "Biologically, they are more copies of me than my children."

Yoruichi's mind races, piecing the information together. How could this be possible without some sort of technological intervention? Soul Society only began experimenting with souls a century ago, and the twins were born about three centuries ago—long before any such advancements. It didn't add up.

Her thoughts drifted back to Aizen Shisane, his appearance was strikingly familiar, especially with that long hair, in a way she couldn't quite place at that time. She'd remembered thinking it long ago, how Shisane looked a lot like someone she knew—someone who, at the time, seemed just a shadow in her memory. But it wasn't until decades later that the connection clicked.

"As for why I didn't make another arrangement," Himari's voice cuts through Yoruichi's train of thought. "My attendant made one, but there was a disaster in district thirty of South Rukon. I forbade her from sending anyone to check."

Yoruichi's eyes narrow slightly as Himari mentions the disaster in District Thirty of South Rukon. She knows exactly what this refers to. In fact, every active shinigami at the time would remember it— ten thousand souls vanishing without a trace, almost an entire district flattened. Buildings were reduced to nothing, and the ground itself appeared as though it had been violently scraped by some force.

The worst part was that none of the souls had reincarnated to the living world, as was typical. They simply disappeared, as if they had never existed. A sudden, silent vanishing—a phenomenon that seemed akin to how hollows would perish under Quincy's arrow, wiped out without a trace.

The disaster had also been one of the contributing factors to the Quincy culling two hundred years ago. It didn't make sense, of course—Quincy arrows were only effective on hollows, not on normal souls—but fear-mongering has a way of distorting the truth.

Quite a lot of people had bought into the narrative that the Quincy had developed a special arrow capable of wiping out normal souls, just as they did with hollows. The idea that the Quincy were capable of something so devastating, something that could erase entire districts and thousands of souls efficiently, spread quickly, and soon enough, even those with doubts were swept up in the panic.

Yoruichi frowns slightly, pondering the question. Does this disaster have anything to do with Aizen? At the time, the twins must have still been children, too young to have any involvement in such an event. But as the law of "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong" dictates, there could be a connection—perhaps not directly, but something tied to them.

She knows the abilities of the twins well enough—what little can be known, at least—but no one knows anything about their Bankai, the true manifestation of their ability. As unpleasant as it is to consider, the twins are exceptional, far beyond the ordinary. Could their abilities have manifested even before they held an asauchi? Never mind, her job is not to piece it all together—that is Kisuke's job.

"You've never attempted to make contact with them? They entered the Academy quite young, after all," thirty-something years old.

Himari's response is immediate, "Nothing with such purpose."

The phrasing catches Yoruichi's attention. It wasn't an outright denial, leaving room for interpretation. So, there might have been contact, albeit not initiated with the intent to form a certain relationship.

Yoruichi leans back slightly, "Nothing with such purpose," she repeats slowly, tasting the words. "But contact nonetheless, I assume?"

Himari doesn't respond immediately, her gaze shifting momentarily before she says, "What are you implying, Yoruichi-kun?" she asks, her tone measured but not entirely defensive. Then, as if dismissing the insinuation, she adds, "Aizen Shisane is, after all, the best healer after the Captain of the Fourth Division."

This, Yoruichi knows, cannot be denied. Aizen Shisane's prowess as a healer is renowned. His ability to heal surpasses Captain Unohana in some aspects—particularly speed. It's uncanny, almost unnatural, but still understandable since it is his shikai, which operates differently from traditional kaido.

The way Shisane's ability works is eerily reminiscent of Orihime's powers—only magnified to an extreme degree, courtesy to the man reiatsu. While Yoruichi is certain the principles behind their abilities are different, the end result is strikingly similar. It's as if Shisane rewinds someone to a state before they ever suffered an injury, erasing the damage.

And that's the problem.

If Shisane is on the field alongside his brother, they're practically invincible. Injuries that would normally take someone out of a fight—wounds that would leave even the most skilled warriors vulnerable—become meaningless.

With Shisane's intervention, anyone he supports can fight recklessly, uninhibited by fear of mortal consequences. With the only weakness is an ability that nobody has, a one-hit kill that sends a soul directly into the reincarnation cycle. This is why it's imperative for them to be separated.

According to the letters Shisane left, he claimed to be on vacation. But knowing him, the term might be open to interpretation. After all, Shisane's sense of humor was anything but conventional. Who's to say he wouldn't consider aiding his brother in a battle against the entire Gotei 13 as his personal definition of a relaxing getaway?

It would be just like him, Yoruichi thinks, to frame a high-stakes clash as a leisurely reprieve. A whimsical disregard for the gravity of the situation, never takes anything seriously.