This chapter is a gift for those who've been waiting to read and for everyone who supported the story by voting earlier. Even though we didn't reach 50 Power Stones this time, I wanted to say thank you to everyone who left positive reviews and showed their support.
The rule remains the same, every 50 Power Stones unlock one bonus chapter.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
"C–Captain Aizen…?" Her voice was fragile, barely more than a whisper. "I–It really is Captain Aizen…?"
When the figure appeared at the doorway-lit just enough to be recognized-Momo Hinamori, portrayed by Whisper, felt all strength drain from her body. Her legs trembled as she stepped forward, one slow step at a time, as if walking through a dream on the verge of shattering. After all, this was the person she was most attached to in the entire world.
"You… you were supposed to be… dead…" For a brief moment, the world itself seemed suspended.
The comments that usually flooded the screen vanished, as if the audience had collectively forgotten how to breathe. Across countless displays, viewers shared the same state as Hinamori-pure disbelief. Only moments earlier, everyone had been obsessively dissecting the mystery of who had murdered Sōsuke Aizen, spinning theory after theory. Some pointed to Kisuke Urahara, always distant, always suspicious. Others doubted Genryūsai Yamamoto, the Supreme Commander portrayed by Jack Creed. Even so, most eyes never left Gin Ichimaru. A few particularly unhinged fans even claimed Ichigo's father would turn out to be the final villain, ripping off a mask and declaring-in the most Star Wars way possible-"I am your father."
Obviously nonsense, but theories just as absurd were everywhere. And then, suddenly-Aizen simply reappeared. Alive.
It was like watching a meticulous murder investigation, only for the victim to calmly stand up in front of everyone. It left a bitter taste in the mouth, because people wanted answers, wanted to know who had killed him. And yet, instead of frustration, the audience felt something else entirely: anticipation.
"I'm alive," he said gently. "As you can see."
Alex's voice echoed through the scene-clean, controlled, almost comforting. That familiar gentle smile, the one that had appeared only briefly in the past yet was never forgotten, returned to his face. No one breathed. Aizen raised his hand and rested it atop Hinamori's head. That single, tender gesture was enough. Tears flowed without warning. She smiled through them, overwhelmed by a relief too large to contain.
"Your hand…" she murmured. "It's warm… just like before… it feels like everything becomes lighter…"
He embraced her carefully, his grip firm yet calm, his touch steady. "You've lost weight," he said softly. "I'm sorry… I never imagined I would hurt you this much."
"It doesn't matter…" she replied between sobs. "As long as the captain is alive… that alone… is enough…"
Hinamori clung to him, crying without restraint, happiness shining through her tears-simple, almost childlike joy. The soundtrack softened to match the moment. The audience's initial shock melted into something warmer, more human. Doubt and tension dissolved into quiet smiles, into a shared sense of comfort. Slowly, the comments returned.
[I don't know what happened, but Aizen being alive makes everything worth it.]
[I knew Alex's character wouldn't disappear that easily.]
[So… is this the official couple?]
[In the end, Hinamori's the one by his side…]
The atmosphere grew almost light. Among longtime fans, speculation drifted naturally toward old debates-inevitable, given Alex's history and the cast assembled. Since Bleach first aired, one question had always lingered: who would stand beside Aizen? Now, the answer seemed almost too simple.
In a silent room at Aurora Entertainment, Rebecca Verne watched the scene closely. "Looks… sweet," someone remarked with a half-smile. "Isn't that new actress Alex's latest favorite? They have great chemistry."
Rebecca didn't respond. She kept her eyes on the screen. Sweet?
Elsewhere, Emily watched the episode beside her manager. "Emily," she teased, "this is getting serious. At this rate, they'll raise the age rating soon."
Emily smiled faintly. "Just keep watching." She remembered perfectly the day the scene had been filmed-the silence on set, the discomfort that had appeared without warning.
On-screen, Aizen spoke again. "Thank you, Hinamori… truly." She blushed, hiding her face against his chest, smiling as if nothing else in the world mattered.
"And now…" His voice remained calm. "Goodbye."
The sound was dry. Brief.
A blade pierced her body in a single motion. Blood burst from her back-hot, sudden-brutally contrasting with the tenderness of the moment before. In an instant, happiness collapsed into raw violence.
The camera slowly pulled back. Aizen remained standing, his smile unchanged, his Zanpakutō embedded in Hinamori's body, his grip firm, his gaze serene-almost gentle.
The shock frozen on her face mirrored that of the audience exactly. No difference. No delay. In that moment, it became clear: sweetness, too, was part of the terror of Sōsuke Aizen.