"Not guessing. Say it or don't."
Aizen Sōsuke's expression didn't waver in the slightest; he clearly had no interest in playing verbal games with a certain someone.Even though Kisaragi Akira hadn't answered him directly, Aizen understood this guy well enough. More likely than not, Akira really could do what he claimed.
Gathering the lingering spirit particles of the dead, reconstructing them into a temporary consciousness, and then communicating…
Was that the power of the Mimihagi deity?
Or was it something that stemmed specifically from Kisaragi Akira himself?
Countless threads of thought weaved through Aizen's mind until, once again, his attention was dragged back by Akira's actions.
"Heh. You didn't seriously think dying settles everything, did you?"
Before Aizen could stop him, Akira had already hauled the red lacquered offering table back in front of the fallen Shinigami's corpse.Incense sticks were lit, a ritual bell chimed softly, and a small cup was filled with clear water.
"In the name of the shrine's officiant—Kisaragi Akira—I conduct this rite for the One-Eyed God, Mimihagi…"
Akira's ten fingers fluttered like butterflies, forming one intricate, holy-yet-bizarre mudra after another. His murmured ritual chants flowed seamlessly as he visualized the subject of the ceremony.
Aizen observed him calmly, attempting to analyze the process through his own logic.
His spiritual pressure spread outward, blanketing the entire block.In that instant, Aizen's sensory perception sharpened to its utmost limit, capturing every microscopic shift in the air.
Spirit particles were moving—like water flowing, like wind stirring, like moonlight drifting—
…Wait.
Aizen's eyes widened slightly.
As the ritual progressed, an invisible force seemed to take hold—freezing the already-scattered spiritual particles of the dead man in their current state, then gradually drawing them together into the cup of water.
Aizen tried to trace the source of this power.
And found, to his surprise, that with his current spiritual strength, he couldn't follow the trail to its end.
The power extended like a thread—thin, unbroken, stretching endlessly toward the distant east.
Aizen narrowed his gaze toward the direction where that thread vanished, a realization forming in his mind.
The Reversed-Bone District… the shrine of the One-Eyed God.
While he attempted to trace it, Akira had already completed the gathering of the traitor Shinigami's spirit particles.
The surface of the water twisted into a reflection:A face filled with terror and disbelief, thrashing helplessly like a caged insect, desperately trying to escape the boundary of the ritual.
But no matter how it struggled, it could not break free.
"I'm curious—what exactly pushed you to commit such a heinous crime?"
Without hesitation, Akira dipped his fingers into the water.
It didn't take long before his expression shifted—from mildly displeased, to frowning, to furrowing his brows so tightly the two nearly touched.
"Well, that's…""…absolutely depraved."
With a flick of his wrist, he shattered the cup, dispersing the gathered spirit particles and ending the murderer's existence completely.
"All that, just because of a petty argument. So you slaughtered an entire family."
Aizen raised a brow, but showed no surprise.
To him, this world was already filled with countless examples of cruelty.A man who massacred a family over a single disagreement wasn't particularly rare in the records of the Soul Realm.
When someone possessed power far beyond what their heart and judgment could handle, their mindset often shifted in dangerous ways.
Good or evil—it was all a matter of a single thought.
"Well, now that we know the motive and the culprit's already been dealt with…"Akira clapped his hands together and began gathering up his ritual tools.
From incense sticks to ceremonial bells—every one of them was something he'd obtained as rewards from daily sign-ins.Useless most of the time, maybe, but definitely top-quality compared to anything sold on the market.
And naturally, all these rewards could be stored inside the system's exclusive inventory space.
Though only non-living items.
Like that wild hare he pulled the other day—completely impossible to store.He'd had no choice but to butcher it and choke down several bowls of rice in tears.
Aizen wasn't even fazed by any of this anymore.
Stuffing bells and incense into a pocket that didn't bulge at all? Child's play.He'd once seen Akira pull a fully assembled bedframe out from his pant leg.
Aizen still had no idea how he'd stuffed it in there.
But he had resolved—firmly—that he would never casually touch anything belonging to Kisaragi Akira.Who knew what horrifying places those items had been stashed in before?
After retrieving the traitor's Zanpakutō, the two cleaned the area and prepared to head back.
The mission wasn't difficult.Even other elite academy students could've handled it with some effort.
A normal squad Shinigami wasn't that much stronger than an elite student.
Of course… comparing them to Akira and Aizen was another matter entirely.Just the burst of spiritual pressure alone was more than enough to crush the average Shinigami.
"Sōsuke, let's move."Akira glanced at Aizen—who was still surveying the surroundings—and urged:
"Time's ticking. If we hurry back, we can still make it in time for dinner at the academy cafeteria."
"Tonight they're serving the special tofu set!"
Aizen gave him a sideways glance but didn't comment, simply turning to follow.
This guy couldn't memorize class schedules or theoretical formulas to save his life…But the weekly cafeteria menu?He remembered every dish down to the condiment list.
Perhaps… that too was a form of talent.
"…Maybe it's just me," Aizen said as the two walked side by side along the empty street,"but something about this mission felt far from simple."
Akira slapped a hand onto Aizen's shoulder, grinning broadly.
"You think too much. Not everything has layers of hidden meaning."
"Civilian deaths aren't rare in the outer districts."
"Only the first ten districts enjoy truly stable lives."
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
"And that's exactly why every civilian dreams of reaching those areas…"
Aizen nodded.
Like Akira, he too had grown up in the outer districts—he knew these unspoken rules better than anyone.
Compared to the noble quarters, the back districts were practically hell.
Yet, as their silhouettes disappeared at the end of the street—
A faint shimmer rippled across the ground.A blurry distortion appeared where there should have been nothing…
As if the world itself had been smeared with a pale mosaic.
The two quickened their pace, even faster than when they'd arrived.
Aizen noticed but simply assumed the reason was obvious:
This idiot just wanted to get back quickly to eat dinner.
Once they exited the Zenzen-ji Area, Akira's steps abruptly slowed.
He clenched his fists slightly and glanced uneasily toward Aizen, voice lowered:
"You sensed it too, right?"
"The anomaly in the spirit particles?"Aizen frowned. He had never seen that expression on Akira's face before.
Akira shook his head.
He looked back toward the direction of Zenzen-ji, eyes darkening.
"No."
"…It was the smell of death."