Night settles over Seireitei, cool and clean, the way it always does when death sleeps light.
I step out from my office, haori slung casual over one shoulder. The sky's clear, moon hangin' fat and lazy over the rooftops. Good night for a walk.
Kira's already waitin' by the barracks gate, standin' stiff like a green recruit. Kid still too polite for his own good.
"You ready, Vice-Captain?" I drawl, grin crookin' wider when his shoulders twitch.
"Yes, Taichou. I've reviewed the patrol map and Jigokuchō activity reports. No anomalies reported as of sunset."
"Mm. An' what about after sunset?"
He frowns, brows drawin' together.
"There haven't been any updates yet."
I click my tongue, step past him.
"That's the problem, boy."
He falls into step beside me, boots soft on the worn stone path. Seireitei's streets get quiet at this hour. Only the night patrols movin', Hell Butterflies flittin' between barracks like ink-blots on a scroll.
"Division 3's job ain't just passin' on what folks tell us," I explain as we cut down a side alley. "We listen for what they ain't sayin'. Gaps in reports, butterflies that don't come home, signals that drop when they shouldn't."
"I… understand, sir."
He doesn't, not yet. But he will.
I lead him through the outer districts, past Division 7's watch post, down a side path that borders the Rukongai wall. A narrow lane, barely wide enough for two. Moonlight paints the stone pale.
"You ever done a classified patrol before, Kira?"
He shakes his head.
"No, sir."
"Good. Fresh eyes."
We stop at a marker stone, half-buried in moss. Old thing — older than him, older than me, probably older than the whole damn Gotei. I press two fingers against the surface, release a tiny pulse of reiryoku.
A shimmer ripples in the air, and a Jigokuchō flits down from the darkness, landin' neatly on my shoulder. Its wings pulse once, twice.
I smirk.
"Well now, look at that. Channel 34's been dead two hours."
Kira's brow furrows.
"I thought Channel 34 covered sector 18's south district?"
"Mmhm. An' unless you heard otherwise, that sector should be reportin' every half-hour."
He stiffens, realizin' the weight of it.
"Could it be a communications malfunction?"
I snort.
"Only if ya believe in miracles."
I pluck the butterfly from my shoulder, lettin' my reiryoku read its last received signal. Nothin' since dusk.
"Come on. Time to see what's happenin' in the dark."
We move quick through the streets, Kira strugglin' to keep up with my pace. He ain't slow, but he don't know how to melt into the shadows yet, don't know how to breathe with the night.
I'll fix that.
By the time we reach the south district relay station, the place is quiet as a tomb. No patrol lights, no relay signal. Even the hell butterflies avoid it, wings scatterin' toward safer skies.
Kira swallows hard.
"Taichou…?"
I draw my blade with a soft whisper of steel.
"Quiet now."
We move in together. I let him take the left. Might as well see if the kid's got any sense for traps. The station's abandoned — no bodies, no blood, just an eerie emptiness that don't sit right.
Kira checks the comm array.
"Systems have been disabled, sir. From inside."
"Figures."
He straightens.
"Should I report this to 1st Division?"
I tilt my head, considerin'.
"Nah. Not yet. Let's clean up our own mess."
He hesitates, then nods.
That's good. Loyalty check number one: passed.
We sweep the perimeter, reset the comm lines, and I reprogram the Jigokuchō nest with a personal frequency. No one else needs to see this one but me.
When we're done, I sheath my blade.
"Lesson number one, Kira. Not every mess in Seireitei gets reported up the chain. Some things are better left for later."
He frowns, uneasy.
"But sir, if someone disabled this relay—"
"I know who did it."
His eyes widen.
"Then… should we…?"
I clap a hand on his shoulder, grin sharp as a knife.
"Ya just leave that part to me, boy."
We head back through the quiet streets, Jigokuchō startin' to trickle back to their posts now that the nest's back online. Kira stays silent most the way.
Good.
Let the kid think. Let him wonder.
By the time we reach the barracks, dawn's startin' to edge the sky with pale gray. I stretch, crack my neck.
"Ya did fine tonight."
He blinks.
"Thank you, Taichou."
I wave him off.
"Go get some sleep. We're runnin' drill in three hours."
The way his face falls is priceless. I stifle a laugh as he drags himself away.
I watch the boy go, then turn my eyes to the horizon.
Aizen's gettin' bolder. Movin' pieces where he thinks no one's watchin'. But I see 'em.
And one day soon, this whole board's gonna tip.
I smirk to myself.
And I'll be right there when it does.