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Late at night, somewhere in Karakura Town, the glow of the Senkaimon shimmered before fading into the dark.
Su Li inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp night air with an almost intoxicated expression before slowly opening his eyes, nostalgia flickering across his face.
After forty years, Karakura Town again. The pulse of the city felt unchanged, the familiar scent of its living world air stirring something warm inside him.
With measured steps he rose into the sky and drifted toward the place burned deepest into memory. Before long the old sign came into view.
Urahara Shop.
A smile tugged at his lips as he stepped into the yard. At the entrance he halted, lifted a single finger, and pressed lightly against the air.
Cracks flared outward like spiderwebs across an invisible surface. A pale yellow barrier revealed itself, shuddering under the strain as fractures multiplied and spread.
Su Li's eyes gleamed with mischief. He tapped again, eager to watch it splinter.
"Stop—stop poking it!"
From the shop burst a large bearded man, sweating as he rushed to stop him.
Su Li only grinned wider, ignoring the plea. His finger pressed once more.
A sharp, soundless crack rang out. The barrier trembled violently, fissures racing across it like lightning.
The bearded man froze, face drained of color, glaring with a mixture of fear and resentment. Su Li only laughed, striding into the courtyard as if he owned it.
A weary sigh came from within the shop.
At the doorway, fan tilted low, appeared Urahara Kisuke. His smile was thin, eyes shadowed with resignation.
"Must you always announce yourself like this, Mr. Su Li?"
"Of course," Su Li replied with mock solemnity. "It's called a sense of ritual."
Urahara's smile twitched. He knew too well what Su Li meant. Ritual, he thought bitterly. More like smashing down my walls for fun. Still, he could only sigh. If Su Li truly wanted to take something, no barrier in Karakura could stop him anyway.
"Tessai, please… repair it again," Urahara muttered, earning a pained nod from the towering man.
Meanwhile Su Li sauntered into the shop itself.
Two screams rang out almost immediately.
"Ah! You again!"
"Ahhhh!"
Jinta Hanakari and Ururu Tsumugiya were unceremoniously flung out into the dirt.
"Damn it… this bastard…" Jinta fumed, cheeks flushed, though he dared not take a step closer.
Ururu only whimpered, eyes wet with tears.
"Bandit…" she sniffled.
Urahara pressed a hand to his face and sighed louder.
"Mr. Urahara," Su Li's cheerful voice drifted from inside. "This cane looks nice. Mind if I take it?"
Urahara stiffened. His blood ran cold.
"No no no! That's my ZanpakutĹŤ!"
He rushed in, forced a smile, and pried it from Su Li's hands.
Not long after, both sat facing each other across a low table. The smell of fresh tea filled the room.
Su Li's smile was relaxed, satisfied. Urahara's smile was brittle, half-pained.
Beside them, Tessai, Jinta, and Ururu knelt stiffly in silence, not daring to breathe.
Only this boy could so casually overturn the calm rhythm of the Urahara shop.
At last Urahara cleared his throat, forcing civility back into his voice.
"Mr. Su Li, there's something I've wondered for some time."
"Please," Su Li replied smoothly, sipping his tea.
"I've never once seen you carry a bag. Yet every time you take something, it vanishes without a trace. Not hidden in clothes, not concealed in sleeves. It's simply gone." Urahara's eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you store it?"
He had seen many techniques in his life, but this—this defied even his expectations.
Su Li smiled faintly. He would never reveal the truth of the system warehouse. In the past he'd been forced to stash things in sacks while the system updated. Not anymore. Now he could empty half of Karakura and not carry a thing.
"This?" He lied without blinking. "My own enchantment transfer technique. Anything I touch is instantly moved to the Soul Society."
Urahara's eyes widened slightly, then glimmered with admiration.
"Remarkable… so it's true. Your Kidō skill is said to rival even the great masters." His voice carried genuine awe. "Even I would need external devices to mimic that. But you—" he shook his head with a laugh, "you really are extraordinary."
Tessai nodded heavily, suddenly understanding why his barrier had been undone so easily. The man across from them wasn't just strong—he was versed in arts few alive could master.
Su Li only sipped his tea, unbothered. He had already accomplished what he came for. Masked Army, Visored, loose ends—they were all next.
But before he could steer the conversation, Urahara leaned forward, tone sharp.
"Mr. Su Li. Let's speak of business."
Su Li blinked, then chuckled. Of course. Urahara never wasted time when the air grew this serious.
"Where are the masked ones?" Urahara asked.
At the same moment Su Li spoke. "Do you know Aizen's next move?"
They froze, staring.
Su Li sighed inwardly. He had overestimated Urahara's foresight.
Urahara let out a rueful laugh, then composed himself. "Very well. We'll handle the Visored later. For now, tell me—" his eyes sharpened with curiosity, "what do you believe Aizen is planning?"
In his heart he considered Su Li his equal in wit, perhaps even his superior. If anyone could see through Aizen's design, it was this man.
Su Li tilted his chin, thoughtful. Urahara leaned in, waiting.
"Aizen stole the Hōgyoku and retreated to Hueco Mundo. His goal must involve the Menos, their evolution… their transformation."
Urahara nodded grimly. "I came to the same conclusion. But beyond that, I can't see further."
He frowned, brow furrowed. "No clues remain."
Su Li's gaze lifted, expression shadowed.
"Before leaving, Aizen said something. Words I've not forgotten."
He leaned back, eyes distant.
"Standing on the sky," he murmured. "He said he would stand upon the sky."
The words hung heavy.
Urahara's pupils contracted. His whole body tensed as if struck by lightning.
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