The Twelfth Squad Barracks.
A cafeteria reserved exclusively for spiritual concoctions.
Two boys sat across from each other at a long table, which groaned under the weight of an astonishing array of dishes. A soft, ethereal glow shimmered across the food, as if each plate had been dusted with a faint luminescent powder.
Kisaragi Akira scanned the table casually, immediately recognizing the dishes he knew best. Golden fried rice, jade dumplings, eight-treasure rice, magical mapo tofu, grand sorcery mapo tofu…
Excellent. His careful attention to Aizen's preferences was clearly paying off. Just looking at the spread, the effort of the long journey already seemed worth it.
Before long, the mountain of dishes began to vanish at a speed visible to the naked eye, the bowls and utensils piling up in exaggerated heaps as the two boys devoured the meal.
When Kisaragi Akira finally finished, Aizen blinked in surprise at the mound of empty dishes.
"Not hungry? You barely touched anything," Aizen asked, perplexed.
Kisaragi Akira heaved a heavy sigh mid-toothpick, then recounted his experiences in the First Squad and his own thoughts. He had finally come up with a clever plan—but Yamamoto refused to allow it, even threatening to break his legs if he attempted it.
Knowing the old man, Akira understood he wasn't bluffing.
No wonder his spirits had been low all day, even during training. So, his visit to the Twelfth Squad wasn't just about grabbing a free meal; he also wanted Aizen's insight.
Aizen's eyes flickered with contemplative interest. He didn't know much about the nobles, but the current situation clearly painted a picture of darkness in the Soul Society, a tangled mire of greed and ambition.
"You know why Captain Yamamoto won't let you go, right?" Aizen asked.
Akira mused, "He said he's worried about my safety… afraid something might happen."
Aizen nodded, explaining, "Captain Yamamoto, as the founder of the Spiritual Arts Academy, doesn't only have you, Kyoraku, and Byakuya as his disciples. There were others… many others. Most perished in various missions, some even in undercover operations. He simply can't risk history repeating itself, so he rejected your proposal."
Akira spread his hands helplessly. "Then what do we do? Sit back and watch familiar faces die in the struggle?"
Aizen's voice remained calm. "It's simple. Do what you think is best, but prepare for failure. Consider what will happen if your true motives are discovered. With your skills, escaping a group of nobles is not difficult, but political fallout is the real danger."
Akira thought about it. Even Salph Apollo hadn't killed him on the first try; his resilience was legendary—something even Aizen secretly admired.
"Civilians from Rukongai, even when promoted to lieutenant positions, are still naturally disadvantaged when facing nobles. No connections, and all forty-six chambers are dominated by noble members. But… think carefully. Do you really fit this scenario?"
Akira's eyes lit up. "The Shihōin! With Yoruichi set to marry me, I basically have the Shihōin family on my side. Looks like my civilian front is just for show—five great noble houses at my back. Nine out of ten Soul Society nobles would bow before me!"
A surge of confidence hit him, and he slapped Aizen on the shoulder, laughing loudly. "Impressive, Souosuke. You've got some of my brains in you!"
Aizen raised an eyebrow. "…Did he just insult me?"
Feeling energized, Akira demolished a few more bowls of rice before leaving the Twelfth Squad to head straight to the Second Squad barracks.
Inside the office, Yoruichi, wearing her black sleeveless backless Shihakushō, fingers deftly twirling a brush, listened as Akira exaggerated his story several times over.
"So, that's the situation," Akira concluded, hands outstretched, waiting for her response.
Yoruichi's lips curved into a sly smile. "The Shikawa family actually tried to steal you from the Shihōin? That's bold." She waved her hand casually. "Don't worry. Shihōin is your strongest support. As long as you don't betray the Soul Society, you can push things as far as necessary."
Akira grinned. Yoruichi was rock-solid—completely unafraid, even with the backing of that 'mysterious noble'.
"By the way… who exactly is this noble Shikawa guy mentioned?" Akira asked.
Yoruichi's expression turned serious. "The head of the Gamiya family, leader of the five great noble houses. They're influential, with large numbers and strong political power. If you remember our last mission, the explosion—Tongue Sever, a secret Zanpakutō technique—is tied to them. Even the recent disappearance incidents and the arrest of Sado might have their shadow behind them. That Shikawa noble is likely connected to the current Gamiya family head, Gamiya Ansai."
Akira nodded thoughtfully. Yoruichi continued, "Being an undercover is risky but common among nobles. Your primary goal is to earn their trust and gather evidence. But first, ensure your safety."
The two stayed up all night, planning every detail of the infiltration mission. From outside, Maeda Kiyono shivered at the sight of the late-lit office, imagining Akira being picked off like a helpless vegetable.
———
Sixth District, Noble Street.
A magnificent mansion sprawled across the heart of the district, lavishly decorated, its surrounding gardens pristine.
Shikawa Souosuke led the way, pride radiating from his every gesture. "I paid handsomely for this mansion, reserved for noble gatherings. When the noble learned of this, he praised me and even suggested promoting the Shikawa family to upper-class nobility. Of course, I refused."
"This house was originally the commercial Gamiya estate—cost me a fortune. Even upper-class nobles would envy it."
"The noble said once you gain your noble status, this mansion would be yours. Kisaragi Akira, he truly values you."
Akira blinked at the grandeur of the estate, then at Souosuke's smug expression. Wait… so he bought it, then intends to gift it to me? That's basically free money!
Akira's inner grin widened: commercial genius Kisaragi Akira, √.
"Let's head in. The noble will arrive soon, and the banquet can begin," Souosuke said, ushering him inside.
The interior was an impeccable blend of ancient elegance and opulence. Every corner shone, clearly reflecting Souosuke's obsessive effort to impress the visiting noble.
The hall was filled with lavishly dressed guests, though a few, like Akira, wore standard Shihakushō. Laughter and the clinking of cups filled the air.
When Souosuke prepared to introduce Akira to the other nobles, he noticed the boy had vanished from sight, blending seamlessly into the crowd. By the time he spotted him again, Akira was already chatting happily with a beautiful Utusmiya girl. The crescent shape of her eyes made it clear the conversation was going well.
Souosuke's pride swelled. This was how a young man should act—naturally charismatic, not forced.
"Can you really read someone's fate from their palm?" the Utusmiya girl asked, extending her delicate hand.
"No problem," Akira replied, rubbing her hand confidently.
At that moment, a commanding presence entered the hall. The room fell silent as every eye turned toward him.
Silver hair, aged yet imposing, sharp gaze… the head of the Gamiya family, Gamiya Ansai, strode forward. Even with spiritual pressure concealed, Akira could feel the threat radiating from him—a third-tier Reiryoku at least.
The noble's piercing gaze swept the room. People instinctively bowed. When their eyes met Akira's, he gave a friendly nod before returning to his playful palm-reading.
Ansai's brow furrowed in displeasure. Souosuke stepped forward. "This is Kisaragi Akira, disciple of Genryusai-sama."
Ansai merely nodded. To him, Akira was just a pawn—useful, but not essential. If he could trouble the Shihōin and Yamamoto even slightly, all the better.
The banquet resumed, guests drinking, playing toss games, reciting poetry. Compared to the struggles of Rukongai civilians, this was decadence in its purest form.
Ansai's gaze lingered occasionally on Akira. Something about this boy felt… off. Not his motives, but his overfamiliarity. Akira moved among the nobles like a husky among wolves, effortlessly extracting family secrets with a few charming words.
As dawn approached, the intoxicated guests were sent to their rooms, leaving only Ansai's loyal supporters—and Akira. Souosuke insisted he stay, saying the noble had a special mission for him.
"Lord Kisaragi," Ansai greeted. "I understand Souosuke has informed you—I intend to recommend you as a new noble. But first, there's a task you must complete."
Akira slapped his chest confidently. "Name it! One task, ten, a hundred—I'll handle them, for the sake of world harmony!"
Ansai nodded approvingly. Attitude mattered more than words. Success here might even earn him a place in the noble core.
"Very well," Ansai said. "Your mission: infiltrate the Twelfth Squad and acquire the soul technology being developed by Kiryu Hazefune."
Akira's eyes went wide…