The year was 1856 in the World of the Living, and likewise 1856 in Soul Society. One hundred and fifty years had passed since Kōe, Yoruichi, and Urahara graduated from the Shin'ō Academy.
A century or so rarely left much of a mark on Soul Society, but when the historians of the Seireitei looked back on this period thousands of years later, they would all feel a sense of fairy-tale absurdity.
Bearing the brunt of this absurdity was the Seireitei itself—the gathering place of Shinigami and the center of power in Soul Society.
Back then, Squad 11 Captain Kuruyashiki Kenpachi had been ordered to bring Shihouin Kōe back to the Seireitei for investigation, as Kōe was suspected of murdering two members of his squad.
Everyone had assumed that by dispatching a captain—and not just any captain, but the current Kenpachi, one of the strongest in the Seireitei—alongside his 3rd Seat, the still-young Shihouin Kōe wouldn't be able to make a splash no matter how much of a genius he was. Obediently returning to the Seireitei to accept his punishment was his only option.
But no one expected that not only would Kōe escape, he would actually leave them with a spectacular mess.
Seven people, including Squad 4's Kotetsu Isane, Squad 11's Uesawajiri Tama and Yamagata Jinnai, and Squad 5's 5th Seat Tsukikage Toshitake, were blasted to death by Kōe right in front of dozens of Shinigami!
This time, there was no more talk of bringing him back for investigation. The Seireitei was furious! Central 46 immediately changed the capture order to dead or alive.
It must be known that to prevent Shihouin Kōe from fleeing, Central 46 had strictly forbidden members of other squads from taking unauthorized action; the arrest was to be carried out personally by Kuruyashiki Kenpachi. Assuming their own side hadn't leaked the information, Kōe's retaliatory actions inevitably led people to suspect there was a mole in the Seireitei tipping him off!
With Central 46 having already issued an arrest warrant, whoever this person was, regardless of their reasons, their actions were tantamount to betraying the Seireitei. This was something Central 46 simply could not accept.
Yamamoto was naturally the prime suspect. However, lacking concrete evidence and wary of his overwhelming strength, the Seireitei had no desire to force such a figure into opposition unless absolutely necessary.
In light of this, Central 46 had no choice but to issue an additional order, commanding the Kidō Corps to monitor Yamamoto's residence day and night. Let alone a Hell Butterfly, not even a mosquito was allowed in or out!
Similarly, the Shihouin and Urahara clans, who were on good terms with Kōe, also fell under suspicion. From the clan heads down to the servants, they all suffered the same fate as Yamamoto.
Because of this, Urahara and Yoruichi, who had already returned to the Seireitei, could do absolutely nothing. On one hand, they worried that news of the criminal Shihouin Kōe's arrest or death might arrive any day. On the other hand, they gritted their teeth in frustration, wishing they could rush out and find that bastard immediately—even though they had no idea where that bastard actually was!
Where exactly was Shihouin Kōe? This was a question not only Urahara and Yoruichi wanted answered, but the entirety of the Seireitei as well. This was especially true for the group that had orchestrated all of this and reaped substantial benefits as a result.
Over these one hundred and fifty years—or strictly speaking, the past one hundred and forty-three years.
Publicly, the Seireitei had dispatched a massive task force of up to four captains, six lieutenants, and hundreds of squad members at once to search for Kōe. Yet, the man seemed to have evaporated from the face of the earth, leaving no trace behind.
Secretly, numerous nobles led by six major families also sent out their private forces to hunt him down. In truth, five of these six families felt there was no need to waste the effort. Blasting seven Shinigami to death in broad daylight wasn't a fabrication they had cooked up; it was genuinely Kōe's own doing. Such a crime could never be washed away.
Perhaps the catalyst had been their false accusations, but long history proved that while Central 46 could admit its mistakes, clear one's name, and provide appropriate compensation, the one thing it absolutely forbade was answering a wrong with another wrong—even if they were the ones who caused it all!
Therefore, whether Shihouin Kōe was currently dead or alive didn't really matter anymore. Even if he returned alive, Central 46 wouldn't listen to a single word of his defense. Death was his only destination; the only difference was where he would die.
However, the lord leading the faction disagreed. He simply couldn't rest easy without seeing Kōe's corpse. Forced by his authority, the other five families had no choice but to continue this meaningless pursuit for over a century.
Sometimes they wondered if the little guy was already dead. After all, they knew Kōe's final destination had been the Plains of Slaughter. Furthermore, the Rukongai had undergone no less than ten thorough sweeps over the years; it was absolutely impossible for the little pest to have returned there.
With no supplies, and forced to delve deeper into the Plains of Slaughter to evade the search parties for over a century, dying out there would be the most normal outcome.
...
North Rukongai, District 80, Zaraki. Dark clouds completely obscured the crescent moon in the sky. Viewed from above, the vast plains looked more like the bottomless, gaping maw of an unknown behemoth.
By a lake, a man wearing tattered white clothes with messy black hair cascading down his shoulders was looking left and right with his head bowed, as if searching for something.
"This is the place." The man looked at the white glowing runes on his left hand and muttered inexplicably, "I'm relieved to see you're all still alive and well."
There was clearly nothing here but weeds. Who exactly was the man talking to?
The man extended his left hand, the light in his palm growing brighter. On the previously flat ground, seven small mounds of dirt slowly rose. Wisps of white light seeped from the soil, connecting with the glow on the man's hand.
Before long, the mounds stopped growing, and the runes on the man's hand gradually dimmed. Seven pale human faces with tightly shut eyes flashed briefly as the light faded.
The man bent down, cupped one of the faces with both hands, and pulled a person out of the dirt mound like pulling up a radish. Repeating this process, the seven mounds turned into seven deep pits, beside which lay seven people—seven people without a breath of life.
They appeared to be seven corpses. Truth be told, such things were not a common sight in the Plains of Slaughter. Who knew which kind soul had buried 'them', but now that an unwelcome guest had arrived, 'their' peaceful days were at an end.
The task wasn't finished. The man untied the strips of cloth wrapped several times around his waist and gave them a shake with both hands. It wasn't a strip of cloth at all, but an absurdly large sack.
Roughly tossing the seven people from the ground into it like cargo, the man effortlessly hoisted the sack—which was more than twice his size—onto his back. His figure suddenly vanished from the spot, leaving only the seven pits behind.
Three days later. North Rukongai, District 1, Seimokuho District.
A man wearing motley clothes with his hair tied back in a bundle was sitting on a long bench by the street, his left and right arms each wrapped around a beautiful, voluptuous woman.
Most of the pedestrians passing by the trio cast glances of disgust or disdain. First, it was due to the man's unscrupulous, loud, and vulgar behavior; second, it was because of the identities of the two women.
The building behind the man was called Huaixiang Pavilion—the largest and most famous brothel in the Seimokuho District. The identities of the two women went without saying. They were quite famous here; even those who had never visited Huaixiang Pavilion knew they were among its top beauties—Kozakura and Kocho.
"Sir, look! That's the most famous theater troupe around here. I heard they perform in many districts on rotation!" Kozakura, wearing a kimono with a cherry blossom pattern, called out happily as a group passed by.
Although Kozakura wore a bright smile at the moment, truth be told, she was feeling quite uncomfortable inside.
The man beside her looked decent enough from the side, but the scar slashing diagonally across his entire face from forehead to chin was truly terrifying. Especially those everted lips—she kept praying inwardly, *'Please don't let that thing touch my face!'*
"I've even seen them in District 70!" The man pointed at his temple with a look of mockery. "Fools with a screw loose. Who the hell watches plays out there!"
"You're absolutely right, sir. Isn't it foolish to pass up a chance to make money?!"
The man laughed heartily, taking a bite of the fruit Kozakura offered. Noticing that the woman on his other side had been silent for a long time, he turned his head and said sharply, "Why aren't you speaking, Kocho? Is it boring spending time with me?"
Kocho, wearing a purple kimono on his right, was startled, but her exceptional professionalism prevented her from showing any flaws. With a shy expression, she said, "Not at all! I was just thinking about the experiences you shared, my lord. They were simply too fascinating!"
Kocho was equally disgusted by the man before her. He was ugly, his manners were crude, and now he was making a fool of himself with her at the entrance. It was truly annoying.
But alas, the man had money! He had booked the entire Huaixiang Pavilion for the day. There was nothing they could do; today, he was the boss here, free to do whatever he pleased.
"Kocho really knows how to talk!" The man beamed with joy at a single coaxing phrase, just like a child. Standing up, he took down a red paper lantern hanging above his head and ordered loudly, "Bring me a brush! I'll give Kocho a gift. I'll draw a little butterfly on this!"
Under Kocho's watchful eyes, a butterfly with gorgeous patterns and spread wings soon appeared vividly on the lantern. Beside him, however, Kocho pouted and said unhappily, "This is clearly just a butterfly. It doesn't look like me at all!"
"Kocho, Kocho, aren't you just a little butterfly?"
"No way, I'm much prettier than that!" Kocho gently shook the man's arm, throwing a mild tantrum. "No, you have to redraw it and actually draw me!"
"I don't have that kind of skill." The man shook his head. Holding up the lantern, he said, "Since you don't like it, I'll hang it outside my window. Today is a good day. Tonight, I will definitely light it with the brightest candle!"
There was actually nothing special about today. *'He probably means it's a good day because he met me,'* Kocho thought, and so she didn't ask any further. But when he mentioned tonight, she truly wished the night would never come.
Late at night, the lights of Huaixiang Pavilion illuminated half the street. Outside a window on the second floor hung a red lantern—the very same lantern the man had said he would hang in front of his room earlier that day.
On the deserted street, six men appeared out of thin air. The bald old man leading them looked up. The red light burned fiercely like a raging fire, and within it, a black Hell Butterfly spread its wings, born from the flames!
"One hundred and fifty years. It has been exactly one hundred and fifty years!"
Today was not a memorable anniversary in Soul Society, but it held special significance for certain people. One hundred and fifty years ago today, a young Shinigami named Shihouin Kōe had left the Seireitei.
Today! It was the day of his return!
Want more chapters? 50+ extra chapters are available on my Patreon :
<< patreon.com/Aragai_Sama >>