Time passed quietly amidst experimentation and waiting. Hasumi Ren's life remained methodical: managing squad duties at Squad 4 by day, and delving into spatial formulas by night. Occasionally, he would visit the Kido Corps' secret chamber to consult Tsukabishi Tessai or discuss implementation strategies with Kisuke Urahara. Under his relentless iterations, the spatial Kido formula to open a Garganta grew increasingly refined, with each experiment drawing closer to success than the last.
Meanwhile, Tosen Kaname remained busy within the testing area. Whenever Ren tested a formula, Kaname stood by the side of the workbench, trying his absolute best to keep up with his pace. Yet the obscurity of spatial formulas, the equilibrium between Hollowified spiritual pressure and space, and the meticulous control of spatial nodes—every single aspect exceeded his current capabilities. Calibrating even a minor secondary node required exhaustive deliberation.
Eventually, Kaname simply couldn't endure it anymore. He finally abandoned all attempts to comprehend the intricate formula blueprints, choosing instead to silently execute what he could handle: preparing experimental materials, verifying spiritual pressure anchors, and logging raw data. These tasks required no profound comprehension, demanding only a sufficient amount of patience and meticulousness.
Yet, every time he witnessed Ren effortlessly tracing formulas he himself couldn't decipher before the workbench, coupled with the undisguised admiration in Aizen's eyes, an indescribable sensation would swell within Kaname's chest. It felt like being slowly overtaken from behind, forced to watch the other man's silhouette pull further and further away while completely powerless to intervene. The bitterness and resentment deep inside him proliferated like wild weeds.
Aizen hadn't cast him aside. The development of the Hogyoku remained under his leadership, and Aizen's trust in him hadn't diminished in the slightest. Yet Kaname knew his importance was eroding piece by piece. Before Ren's arrival, he was the sole core figure at Aizen's side. Now, there was another. Watching Ren seize all the attention with his overwhelming talent, Kaname ultimately couldn't remain unfazed. Yet he could share this resentment with no one, forced to suppress it deep within his heart, swallowing his grievance in bitter silence.
All he could do was grit his teeth and keep up. Even if he was reduced to a mere assistant, he could not disrupt Aizen's plans. For Lord Aizen's ideals, for a new world devoid of injustice, he could endure anything. However, days of accumulated suppression, strain, and suffocation weighed on him like a massive boulder, leaving him breathless.
When the day's experimentation concluded, Kaname walked out of the hidden laboratory, completely out of sorts. Instead of returning to the Squad 9 barracks, he wandered aimlessly through the streets and alleys of the Seireitei. Unwittingly, his steps led him to the Noble District. Kaname rarely frequented such places. As the 5th Seat of Squad 9, his life was basic and orderly. He required no entertainment or relaxation—only the execution of Lord Aizen's commands.
But today, he had no desire to go back to the barracks. The quarters were far too quiet, so quiet that the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind had nowhere to escape. He walked without direction for an unknown length of time until a rich aroma suddenly drifted into his senses. The scent of grilled meat, laced with a distinct blend of spices, was exceptionally alluring in the gathering dusk.
He halted, raising his head. This was a street he seldom set foot upon. Shops lined both sides, brightly illuminated as crowds bustled past. The Noble District. These were aristocratic enterprises, places where those who looked down from on high spent their fortunes. His instinct urged him to turn and leave, yet the fragrance acted like an invisible hand, tugging at his sleeves. Hesitating for a brief moment, he followed the scent into the establishment.
Though he couldn't see the elegant decor or the soft lighting inside, he could clearly discern the aroma of food permeating the air. He heard the boisterous conversations of numerous patrons and the brisk footsteps of servers weaving through the room. Kaname selected a corner table and sat down, unfastening his Zanpakuto to lean it against the edge.
A server stepped forward, wearing a broad smile. "Welcome! Is it your first time here, sir? What can I get for you?"
Kaname paused. "Bring me wine. Something strong. And a few random dishes."
"Understood! Our signature yakitori is excellent as well. Would you care to try some?"
"Sure."
The young man nodded with a smile and turned away. Before long, a flask of sake and several skewers of yakitori were brought to the table. Kaname poured a cup and downed it in one gulp. The liquid was harsh, burning his throat. He poured a second cup and drained it again. As the alcohol rushed to his head, the emotions he had kept tightly bottled up began to loosen.
He thought of Kakyo. He remembered the woman with the gentle laughter, and the day he learned she had perished beneath the blade of the Tsunayashiro clan. He recalled the night he swore to change this world, and he recalled Lord Aizen's vision. Then, his thoughts drifted to Hasumi Ren.
Kaname downed another cup.
"Kaname."
After an indeterminate amount of time, a deep voice echoed from across the table. Kaname's fingers stiffened slightly. He didn't look up; he recognized the voice instantly.
"Komamura?"
A massive silhouette seated itself opposite him, blocking out a portion of the light. Komamura Sajin, currently serving as a high-ranking seated officer in Squad 7, was a Soul Reaper who had entered the Gotei 13 during the same period as him. He was also his dearest friend. No expression could be discerned beneath the wooden bucket mask, yet those eyes carried unhidden concern.
"Why so disheartened? Has something transpired?"
Kaname fell silent for a moment. "No, it's nothing... nothing of consequence."
Komamura chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled with a faint echo. "My friend, we have known each other for many years. Your dejection is glaringly obvious to anyone. Did you truly expect to hide it from me?"
Kaname remained silent. He had assumed he was maintaining perfect control, that those feelings were safely locked in the deepest recesses of his heart. Yet Komamura had seen right through him with a single glance.
Kaname raised his cup and took another sip. "It really is nothing."
Komamura observed him, choosing not to press further. Instead, he simply picked up another cup from the table, poured himself a drink, and raised it high. "Then I shall not ask. Let us drink."
Kaname blinked in surprise, then lifted his cup, lightly clinking it against Komamura's. Tilting his wooden bucket up slightly and shielding it with his palm, Komamura guided the cup beneath. Both drained their drinks.
Kaname picked up a skewer of yakitori and took a bite. The meat was tender, the sauce rich and savory—it truly was delicious. Despite living in the Seireitei for so many years, he had never tasted food quite like this. "This is rather unusual," he murmured softly.
Komamura also picked up a skewer, took a bite, and nodded. "It is indeed excellent, though the fare in the Noble District is notoriously exorbitant." Setting down the skewer, he looked at Kaname. "I did not expect you to have the coin to spend in a place like this. Had I not sensed your spiritual pressure from outside, I would not have dared step foot inside."
Kaname fell silent. He had truly never frequented such establishments and had no inkling of the pricing. He had merely followed the aroma indoors without a second thought.
"The bill is on me today," he said. "Drink with me, Komamura."
Komamura waved a hand. "My friend is out of sorts; this meal should naturally be my treat."
Kaname shook his head. "No need. You can get the next one."
Komamura stared at him before nodding. "Very well, I shall not argue."
Kaname nodded, pouring another cup of wine. The two lapsed into silence, drinking quietly. As the alcohol slid down his throat, harsh and bitter, Kaname's heart gradually settled a fraction.
"Come to think of it, I have never seen this establishment before. The flavor is quite remarkable," Kaname remarked out of the blue.
Komamura pondered for a moment. "I happen to have caught wind of it. Word is that it belongs to the family of Lieutenant Omaeda from Squad 2. The Omaeda clan are aristocrats to begin with, so it is hardly surprising for them to hold property in the Noble District."
Kaname maintained an untroubled exterior, but a cold sneer rippled through his mind. 'Aristocrats. Aristocrats yet again.' Every single shop, every square inch of ground on this street belonged to the nobility. Such were the rules; he could neither change them nor voice an objection.
Komamura lowered his voice. "However, I vaguely heard that there is actually another owner behind the scenes. Supposedly named... Hasumi Ren."
Upon hearing the name, Kaname suddenly broke into a violent coughing fit. The sake choked his throat, flushing his face a deep crimson. Setting his cup down, he covered his mouth and coughed heavily for a good while before finally steadying himself under Komamura's soothing pats.
"Wh-Who did you say?" his voice rasped.
"Hasumi Ren," Komamura repeated, watching him intently. "Why such a severe reaction? Do you know him?"
Kaname remained tight-lipped. He raised his cup and downed it in one go. He poured another, draining it instantly. The alcohol scalded his throat but failed to suppress the tempestuous emotions roiling inside his chest. 'Hasumi Ren. Hasumi Ren yet again. The man is absolutely inescapable; even a shop in the Noble District has his hands all over it.'
"I... am not close with him," Kaname finally uttered.
Komamura chose not to press. He merely picked up another skewer of yakitori and chewed slowly.
"Excuse me, valued patrons. Do you happen to know Big Brother Ren?" an unfamiliar voice chimed in from the side.
Kaname turned his head, sensing a figure standing beside their table.
"No, we do not," Kaname replied icily.
The person let out a sigh, a trace of regret in his tone. "Ah, what a pity. I thought I overheard you mentioning his name just now. I am the manager of this branch. If you were acquaintances of his, I could have given you a twenty-percent discount."
Kaname scoffed internally. He had no need for discounts, let alone one obtained through a connection to Hasumi Ren. "No thank you. We are strangers."
The youth scratched his head and walked away.
Kaname set his cup down. "Check, please."
A waitress glided over, sporting a sweet smile. "That will be one hundred and twenty-three thousand, eight hundred kan, sir."
Kaname's fingers twitched slightly. He assumed his ears were deceiving him. "How much?"
"One hundred and twenty-three thousand, eight hundred kan," the waitress repeated, her tone remaining polite. "Sir, would you like me to itemize the bill for you?"
Kaname fell silent. Gauging the empty plates and flasks on the table, he ran a rapid calculation in his head. A few skewers of yakitori, a couple of flasks of sake—how could it possibly cost this much?
Sensing Kaname's silence, the waitress's smile never wavered. "Sir, this is the Noble District. Our prices are already considered quite reasonable, and all the establishments on this street enjoy special protection from Squad 6's Interior Guard." She paused. "Does the honorable Soul Reaper find an issue with the total?"
Kaname pressed his lips together. This was the Noble District; the shops here were shielded by aristocrats, and the regulations were dictated by aristocrats. To claim there was an issue would be to challenge the nobility and question the status quo. He lacked the nerve to simply storm off without paying.
Kaname retrieved his coin purse from his robes, counted out the sum, and placed it on the table. His fingers trembled slightly—not out of financial anguish, but pure rage. The mere realization that a fraction of this money would ultimately line Hasumi Ren's pockets made him feel as though he had swallowed a fly.
Collecting the funds, the waitress bowed with a smile. "Thank you for your patronage. Please visit us again."
Kaname rose, grabbed his Zanpakuto, and headed for the exit. Komamura followed closely behind. As they stepped out the door, the night breeze swept past, carrying a touch of chill. Kaname took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure.
Right then, a burst of laughter and chatter drifted over from a distance. Kaname raised his head, looking toward the source of the noise. A small group was strolling down the street, talking and laughing merrily. Leading the pack was a person he knew all too well.
'...Hasumi Ren? Talk about a bitter twist of fate.'
Ren was currently dressed in casual attire, a faint smile gracing his face as he conversed with his companions. They were heading directly toward the establishment.
Kaname stood rooted to the spot, turning his head away slightly. He sensed the youth who had introduced himself as the branch manager dash out from the shop to greet them.
"Big Brother, Big Sister, Big Brother Ren!"
"Yo, Ganju." Ren stepped forward, clapping him warmly on the shoulder. "How has business been lately?"
"Pretty great! Our yakitori is selling like crazy. As expected of the Noble District, our profit margins are..." After muttering the recent updates in a lowered voice, Ganju's tone carried an irrepressible pride.
Ren nodded, about to say something when his gaze casually swept toward the side of the street. Wasn't that Tosen Kaname? And the one beside him was... Komamura Sajin?
Ren's brow twitched imperceptibly, but he swiftly regained his calm demeanor.
Kaname offered no greeting, nor did he linger. He spun around and marched briskly toward the opposite end of the street. Komamura followed behind him; after taking a few paces, he suddenly looked back, casting a glance at Ren. Those eyes were filled with unbridled curiosity. Then, retracting his gaze, he accelerated to keep pace with Kaname.
Ren stood in place, watching the two silhouettes dissolve into the night.
"Senior, what's wrong?" Kaien's voice called from behind.
Ren shook his head. "It's nothing. Come on, let's head inside and check it out." He turned, following Ganju into the shop. Kaien and Kukaku trailed closely behind, chatting and laughing.
Inside, the lighting was mellow, and the air was thick with the savory fragrance of food. Ren took a seat at a corner table. Ganju brought over some tea, an attentive grin plastered across his face.
"Big Brother Ren, business is getting better by the day. A while back, Lieutenant Omaeda approached me saying we'll be able to open another branch before long."
Ren nodded. "Let him handle it. He understands these matters far better than I do."
Ganju chuckled, turning away to attend to other patrons.
Kaien sat opposite Ren, admiring the interior decor. "Senior, this shop really belongs to you?"
"It's a joint venture with Lieutenant Omaeda of Squad 2. I oversee the operations, and he provides the capital."
Kaien clicked his tongue. "Incredible. Opening a shop in the Noble District is definitely not something an ordinary person can pull off."
Ren offered a faint smile, leaving the comment unanswered.
Seated beside Kaien, Kukaku picked up a menu and flipped through it. "That brat Ganju is managing this place pretty decently," she remarked, a trace of novelty in her tone.
"Yeah, Ganju can hold his own now. Letting him gain some practical experience here is a good move."
Kukaku glanced at Ren, a slight smile on her lips. "You certainly look out for him."
Ren smiled faintly, offering no further reply.
As the night deepened, the lights of the Noble District remained brilliantly ablaze. At the far end of the street, Tosen Kaname walked alone. His pace was sluggish, each step feeling as though he were wading through a mire. Komamura had already returned to the Squad 7 barracks; he was completely by himself.
The night wind swept past, rustling the hem of his robes. He halted, lifting his head to gaze up at the night sky. 'Hasumi Ren.' The name echoed repeatedly in his mind.
Kaname lowered his head, clenching both hands into fists. These hands had slain countless adversaries and executed innumerable missions. They were Lord Aizen's most trusted instruments. Yet now, everything these hands could accomplish, Ren could perform as well—and with even greater mastery.
His fingers tightened, then slowly relaxed. Taking a deep breath, he resumed his stride. For Lord Aizen's ideals, for the justice in his heart, he would grit his teeth and endure. Yet that envy toward Ren coiled around his heart like a poisonous vine, slowly devouring his sanity.
The wind of the Seireitei blew past the opulence of the Noble District, whipping up a tempest of absolute hatred deep within Tosen Kaname's soul.