A winding country road stretched through the quiet outskirts of the Rukongai, bordered by vast fields of blooming datura flowers. Sparse trees dotted the open meadow, their branches swaying gently in the wind.
Above, the sky was overcast.
Dark clouds drifted slowly across the heavens, casting a muted gray light over the countryside. The atmosphere felt slightly melancholic, yet strangely poetic—like the calm before a storm.
Shiraishi walked leisurely along the dirt road, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
His pace was unhurried.
After wandering for most of the afternoon, the sight of a small teahouse perched atop a gentle hill ahead of him immediately lifted his mood.
Rain seemed imminent.
Compared to being drenched by a sudden downpour, sitting comfortably inside a teahouse, drinking warm tea and eating dumplings, was obviously the far better option.
Without hesitation, he quickened his pace and jogged toward it.
The teahouse was quiet.
A simple canopy covered several wooden benches and four square tables. The place looked rustic and modest, the sort of roadside shop travelers occasionally encountered in the outer districts of the Rukongai.
Leaning against one of the tables was a young girl.
The moment she noticed a customer approaching, she straightened immediately.
She was petite—about one hundred and fifty centimeters tall—wearing simple brown clothing. Her exposed skin was pale as fresh snow.
Her face was small and delicate.
Short bangs framed her forehead, while two long braids hung down from either side of her head, each tied with white bandages ending in small golden rings.
Her light gray eyes were calm and sharp, though at first glance they gave the impression of a harmless and adorable kitten.
"What would you like, sir?"
Her voice was clear and gentle, like a stream flowing through a mountain valley in early summer.
Shiraishi looked at her with obvious interest.
A mischievous smile slowly appeared on his face.
"Please give me a piece of your sweet smile."
The girl blinked.
Then she responded calmly, maintaining a polite service smile.
"Sir, please don't joke around. Our shop only serves three-colored dumplings, tea, dried squid, and tempura."
Her tone remained courteous, completely professional.
There was no hint of annoyance.
Seeing that his opening move had failed, Shiraishi gave up on the cheesy pick-up line for the moment.
He sat down on the bench.
"Alright then. One serving of three-colored dumplings and a cup of tea."
"Understood. Please wait a moment."
The girl bowed slightly, then called toward the back room.
"One serving of three-colored dumplings and a cup of tea."
Since the food didn't arrive immediately, Shiraishi naturally began another conversation.
"Miss, what's your name?"
"And another important question—do you like green peppers?"
The girl paused slightly before answering.
"My name is Feng."
"As for green peppers… I can eat them. I don't hate them, but I wouldn't say I like them either."
Shiraishi's eyes immediately lit up.
"You can eat green peppers? That's wonderful!"
He slapped the table lightly.
"Our lifestyles must be extremely compatible. If we get married, our married life will definitely be blissful."
"Please marry me."
Shiraishi had never been the type to beat around the bush.
He was the kind of brave man who skipped the entire romance process and went straight to proposing.
Feng almost lost her composure.
Her hands clenched behind her back as she struggled not to laugh.
"Excuse me, sir."
"I have no intention of getting married."
"That's only because you haven't met a man as outstanding as me before."
Shiraishi continued shamelessly.
"You should have noticed already that my clothes are completely different from everyone else's here."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm fashionable."
"And in this world, fashion means power."
"Heh…"
Feng could only maintain a polite smile.
From her perspective, Shiraishi's clothing couldn't possibly be described as fashionable.
If anything, it looked bizarre.
His outfit clearly didn't resemble the traditional clothing worn throughout Soul Society.
He wore a golden leather jacket, paired with black trousers.
Instead of straw sandals, he had on black sneakers.
The only somewhat familiar things about him were the gold-sheathed Zanpakutō hanging at his waist and his silver-white ponytail.
"This outfit is Yasuo's Prestige skin."
Shiraishi continued proudly.
"Of course, my face isn't that 'old man' look."
"You can probably tell I'm only in my early twenties."
"My looks may not be breathtaking, but I'm definitely handsome enough to be considered above average."
He continued bragging without shame.
Three years ago, Shiraishi had arrived in Soul Society completely by accident.
At the time, he had been playing a normal ranked match.
His teammates had played terribly.
In frustration, he immediately locked in Yasuo to steal the mid lane position and spent the entire game cursing his four teammates.
Then suddenly—
He woke up in the Rukongai.
Not only had he arrived in Soul Society physically, but he had also brought along Yasuo's abilities, including the passive skill set and even a Zanpakutō capable of permanently maintaining its Shikai state.
The only real problem had been the language barrier.
It took him three entire years to learn the language used in Soul Society.
During that time, he had been forced to pretend to be either mute or aloof.
Now that he could finally speak normally, the personality he had suppressed for years exploded outward.
The quiet young man he once was had gradually transformed into a social butterfly.
He could chat endlessly with almost anyone.
Especially beautiful women.
He greeted them with one hundred percent enthusiasm.
Although he had never succeeded once, it never discouraged him.
As he often said:
"My enthusiasm is my business."
"Whether you accept it or not is your business."
"As long as I'm happy, everything is fine."
"..."
Feng stared at him silently.
For the first time in her life, she encountered someone who might actually be more annoying than that useless vice-captain.
It was completely shattering her worldview.
Unable to endure his chatter any longer, she excused herself and stepped inside the teahouse.
Finally, there was peace and quiet.
Not long after, Feng returned carrying a plate of three-colored dumplings and a steaming cup of tea.
She bent slightly and placed them on the table.
"Please enjoy your meal, guest."
Shiraishi picked up one skewer of dumplings.
He looked at them carefully.
But he didn't eat them.
Instead, he sighed.
"Ah… what a pity."
"I don't have the fortune to enjoy three-colored dumplings personally served by the Captain of the Second Division."
The smile on Feng's face slowly disappeared.
Her expression turned cold.
In an instant, the harmless kitten-like girl vanished.
What remained was the proud and dangerous presence of a wildcat.
"So."
Her voice lost all warmth.
"How did you discover my identity?"
Shiraishi shrugged casually.
"It's simple."
"You made too many mistakes."
"First, opening a teahouse in such a remote area is suspicious enough."
"Second, a woman as beautiful as you running a lonely roadside shop is even more suspicious."
"Third—"
"Shut up."
Soi Fon cut him off sharply.
None of those explanations could possibly justify how he had identified her so precisely.
More importantly, he had not mistaken her for an ordinary member of the Onmitsukidō.
He had recognized her specifically as the Captain of the Second Division.
There was no point listening to his nonsense.
She tore off the apron around her waist.
Her belt loosened.
"The Onmitsukidō operates under one principle—absolute secrecy."
"I originally intended to poison you quietly and complete this mission without attracting attention."
"But since you've already discovered me…"
Her voice turned colder.
"I'll have to use a more direct method."
She removed the teahouse uniform and tossed it aside.
What replaced it was her true combat attire.
A black halter-neck, backless uniform, the standard outfit used by the Commander of the Onmitsukidō.
The clothing emphasized speed and agility.
It also placed certain demands on the wearer's physique.
On the previous commander, Yoruichi Shihōin, the outfit had been undeniably striking.
On Soi Fon—
From the front, there wasn't much to see.
Only from the side could a faint curve be noticed.
Shiraishi covered his eyes with two fingers in exaggerated disappointment.
"That's it?"
"What a waste of anticipation."
Soi Fon ignored him completely.
"You sinner, Shiraishi."
"You murdered Hasegawa Taizō, Fifth Seat of the Onmitsukidō, in the West Third District of Rukongai."
"I have been ordered by Central 46 to eliminate you."
Since the assassination attempt had failed, she decided to confront him directly.
At the very least, she would allow him to know why he was about to die.
"I am not a sinner."
Shiraishi corrected her seriously.
"Please call me the Swift Wind Swordsman."
Then he added:
"This really isn't my fault."
"Your Fifth Seat was harassing innocent women right in front of me."
"He even tried to force himself on them."
"As a person with a conscience, how could I possibly stand by and watch something like that?"
"I had no choice but to intervene."
"If you have grievances, you should report them through proper channels."
Soi Fon remained completely unmoved.
"Taking justice into your own hands and committing murder is still a crime."
"The Onmitsukidō will never allow criminals to escape punishment."
Shiraishi sighed.
"So blindly obeying corrupt laws and calling it justice…"
"That's your belief?"
Soi Fon's expression did not change.
"Enough."
"No more nonsense."
Shiraishi sighed again.
Since talking wasn't working—
Then he would simply act.
"Steel-Slicing Flash!"