Chapter 195: Hogyoku
"That guy is definitely not the Sosuke Aizen we know."
"Oh," Kisuke said lightly. "And why do you say that."
On the screen, Sosuke stood in the Shiba dojo, holding a bead that glittered like a captured star. Even through the camera's lens, it felt as if he were looking straight at them across countless layers of distance.
Kisuke reached back and nudged Yoruichi, trying to get a reaction.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
With a quiet sigh, he gave up. His gaze stayed fixed on the image, his expression turning stranger by the second.
Sosuke had taken the initiative.
That alone was the most unbelievable part.
In everyone's mind, Sosuke Aizen never moved first, not like this. He did not rush. He did not show his hand in a blunt, almost ugly way. His plans always carried a sense of ceremony, a kind of ritual elegance. Even his cruelty had its own polished rhythm.
Kisuke and the others knew the truth better than anyone. If Sosuke truly wanted to do something, nobody in Soul Society could stop him. His Kyoka Suigetsu had once interfered even with the spiritual pressure of Captain Commander Yamamoto. If he wanted Seireitei to become his toy, it would have happened.
But he never chose that path.
He always preferred to prove his theory openly, to stand above everyone through a crushing, undeniable performance instead of slipping behind their eyes like a thief. Kyoka Suigetsu was a near omnipotent Zanpakuto with one flaw, the cost. It consumed spiritual pressure.
Unfortunately for everyone else, Sosuke had far too much spiritual pressure to begin with.
His offense relied on Kido and sword strikes, and his hypnosis relied on spiritual pressure to sustain it. If he wanted to, Seireitei would not even be a battlefield, it would be a stage.
And Kisuke could not solve that. How do you build a countermeasure against something when the entire world has already been taught the wrong answer.
Sosuke had hypnotized the captains into believing Kyoka Suigetsu's ability was water based refraction. So any attempt to resist it became a joke, because even the resistance would be designed around a lie.
It was like being asked to invent something that resists the soul itself, something that resists the Shinigami system.
Worse, complete hypnosis was not only about the Zanpakuto, it was about how Shinigami perceived reality. Kisuke could not use the rules of that system to strike the system's strongest player.
The only reason this game had lasted was because Sosuke followed the rules of the game, at least the ones he found aesthetically pleasing.
Even the Visoreds had lived because of that. If Sosuke had been shameless, he could have killed them while smiling, and nobody would have seen, heard, or felt the truth. A corpse would still be a corpse, and the world would still believe whatever he wanted it to believe.
That was why Kisuke had always dreaded one possibility above all others.
The day Sosuke stopped playing.
And now, on the screen, that day had arrived.
Sosuke had used Kyoka Suigetsu without grace, without ceremony, and without even pretending otherwise. He had seized the timing of the portal, stepped through the cracks Kisuke left behind, and taken the Hogyoku back as if he were retrieving something he had misplaced on a shelf.
Then he held it out openly.
To Kukaku.
To Ichigo.
To the unseen eyes watching from afar.
"The Hogyoku," Sosuke said calmly in the dojo, the bead shining in his palm, "this artifact said to understand and grant wishes, is forged from the combined souls of hundreds of wandering spirits and Shinigami. I created one part, and Kisuke Urahara created another. In a way, we are the same."
Kukaku stood rigid, face pale, breathing shallow.
She knew enough to understand what she was looking at.
The essence of this long conflict had always been that Sosuke was willing to fight inside the Shinigami world's rules, to allow opposition to exist. That was the only reason anyone could meaningfully resist him at all.
Now he had pulled the Hogyoku out and placed it in the open.
It was a declaration.
He no longer cared about the old rules.
If Kukaku could have turned around and fled, never to see him again, she would have. But she could not, not with that shining sphere so close, not with his words pressing into her chest like a blade.
Kukaku was not Kisuke. She did not have a scientist's cold distance. She was not Yoruichi either, free to walk in and out of Soul Society by will and strength alone. She was a woman holding a collapsing family together with stubborn hands.
After Kaien's death, everything had fallen onto her shoulders. Not because she was weak, but because the weight was endless. The dojo, Ganju, the constant relocation, the constant need to avoid Shinigami eyes, the constant exhaustion of living like prey.
Then this man said he could bring Kaien back.
No matter how much Kukaku hated him, no matter how much she tried to harden her heart, she still shook.
Shook badly.
Sosuke watched her struggle with the patience of a man who already knew the outcome.
"This creation can read the desires of those around it and turn them into reality," he said. "But in truth, it is not an all powerful wish machine. It does not simply grant wishes. It uses spirit particles and transformation to continuously elevate a person, creating the illusion that their desire has been fulfilled."
His voice stayed mild, almost like a lecture.
"It does not fulfill wishes directly, it fulfills them indirectly, through what you become."
He lifted the bead slightly, letting the light catch.
"And most importantly, its methods are not perfect."
"If it truly granted wishes, it would do something absolute. For example, it would create a world where the Soul King could continue without needing a wedge. The Hogyoku cannot do that."
His eyes narrowed slightly, not in threat, but in certainty.
"But as I said, I can revive Kaien Shiba."
"I could do it even without the Hogyoku. I am only showing it to you because it makes my words easier for you to accept, does it not."
Kukaku tried to hold on to her fury.
She failed.
"Where is the proof," she demanded, forcing her voice to stay sharp. "Where is your proof that you can resurrect anyone."
Her eyes betrayed her anyway. They kept darting back to the bead.
Because that was the Hogyoku. The thing Yoruichi had described with grim seriousness, the center of conspiracies and blood. The object that, in theory, could fulfill any human wish.
What if it was real.
What if Kaien could truly return.
Kukaku hated herself for the thought, and still she could not kill it.
Sosuke's gaze softened, not kindly, but as if he had expected this from the start.
"As evidence," he said, "we can begin with the Hogyoku itself. I once added many Shinigami and wandering spirit souls to it. Restoring one is not difficult."
He pointed at the bead.
A pale blue light bloomed within it. It spread outward like water, absorbing the spirit particles in the air, swirling and gathering in the open space of the dojo.
Under Kukaku's stare, that unfamiliar power guided the reconstruction. A soul sealed inside the Hogyoku was drawn out, and its body was reshaped by surrounding spirit particles, cell by cell, breath by breath, until a man in a Shinigami uniform stood there as if he had never died.
He stood motionless for a heartbeat.
Then his eyelids twitched.
He opened his eyes.
"Captain Aizen," he said hoarsely, voice confused. "What am I doing here."
He shook his head, looking around at the simple dojo as if reality had been replaced while he blinked.
"I remember being on a mission. Then you asked me to cooperate. There were experiments. After that, I do not remember. Have I finished my work."
Sosuke smiled.
"Not entirely. I still need your help."
"If that is the case," the man said, swallowing, then straightening with instinctive obedience, "then I understand."
He did not look at Kukaku. He did not question the woman beside his captain. He did not ask why he was alive.
He simply stood there.
Faithful.
Silent.
Like a tool that had been put back on the table.
Kukaku's lips tightened. Her fingers trembled.
Then Sosuke lifted a finger and flicked it, almost lazily.
The Shinigami dissolved into countless pale blue lights, breaking apart into dust like mist scattering in sunlight, then flowing back into the bead and becoming part of its brilliance once more.
Sosuke's voice did not change.
"I believe that is sufficient proof."
He looked at Kukaku as if he were discussing weather.
"Kobayashi, ninth seat of the Fifth Division fifty years ago. He disappeared during an operation to subdue Hollows and was listed as killed."
Sosuke's smile thinned.
"In truth, he did not die. I summoned him near my area of responsibility, and I used his soul for Hogyoku experiments, making him part of my being."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Does that prove my sincerity."
Kukaku stared at the empty air where Kobayashi had been.
She could tell it had been real.
Not an illusion. Not a fabricated image.
A living Shinigami, capable of speaking, thinking, breathing, reconstructed from within the Hogyoku itself, memories returned to the state before his destruction.
Then wiped away like a smear of chalk, poured back into the bead in Sosuke's hand.
In that moment, the Hogyoku felt less like a wish machine, and more like a container.
A container held by the true wish machine standing behind it.
Kukaku's throat worked.
"What do you want," she asked, voice rough.
"The path to the Soul King's Palace," Sosuke replied. "I want the right to speak directly with the Soul King."
"No," Kukaku said instantly, the refusal sharp enough to cut. "Impossible. Give up."
The moment the Soul King was mentioned, her instincts snapped back into place.
"Even if you bring Kaien back, it will not change. I will not allow someone like you to enter the Soul King's Palace. More accurately, I will not allow anyone to enter using Shiba technology. Unless there is an extremely serious emergency, it will never happen."
Sosuke's smile returned.
"I think an exception can be made."
Kukaku's eyes narrowed.
Sosuke continued, still calm, as if painting a simple picture.
"Imagine this scenario. It will make our conversation much easier."
Kukaku did not answer.
He spoke anyway.
"You refuse me. Then I use Kyoka Suigetsu to completely hypnotize and control your five senses. In your consciousness, you persuade me to give up. You never accept Ichigo's request again. You continue your life in Rukongai as if nothing happened."
Kukaku's face stiffened.
Sosuke's voice remained gentle.
"Then Seireitei changes. The struggle between Shinigami and nobles intensifies and spills outward. It reaches your life. The world around you becomes unfamiliar. People begin to notice you are not like ordinary Rukongai residents. You sense it, but you can do nothing. You can only watch as everything twists toward an extreme again."
He lifted his hand slightly, as if turning a page.
"War begins. The conflict shakes even the heavens. The Zero Division is alarmed. Those above descend and rebuild the Gotei 13. They demand order."
His smile warmed, almost polite.
"Their power is immense. Everyone submits. They swallow their anger again."
Sosuke's eyes met Kukaku's.
"And you, as the last Shiba, decide to dedicate your final power to the Soul King. Under the watch of the Zero Division, you prepare the Kukaku Cannon that leads to the Soul King's Palace. You use your Kido to deliver your final gift."
Kukaku said nothing.
Her face had gone pale.
Sosuke's warmth only deepened, like sunlight on a blade.
"And the risk you fear, the risk of remaining loyal to the Soul King, becomes irrelevant. Because I interfere with your perception of space and time through Kyoka Suigetsu."
He did not blink.
"And I arrive inside the Kukaku Cannon."
His tone turned almost conversational.
"Do you think that scenario suits your taste."
Silence.
Then Sosuke stepped back, as if the matter were settled.
"Enjoy your reunion with Ichigo," he said. "Three days. I will return in three days with Kaien's spirit particle."
He adjusted his glasses.
"At that time, you will witness his resurrection personally. Three days is also enough time for you to understand what has happened here."
His gaze drifted, briefly, as if remembering something bothersome.
"I still need to appease my two subordinates."
He inclined his head, formal.
"So I will take my leave."
Then, with a calm expression, Sosuke walked out of the dojo.
Outside, Ichigo was still arguing fiercely with Ganju, their voices sharp and stubborn, like flint striking flint.
Sosuke greeted them as if he were passing neighbors on a street.
Then, before their eyes, he vanished.
Only two bewildered men remained, and Kukaku standing in the doorway, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, her expression shifting between hatred, grief, and a hope she did not dare to touch.
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