I Won't Waste Too Much of Your Time

Kensei Muguruma hadn't been having a great time lately.

Despite the Ninth Division's reputation as the "Guardians of the Detention Unit," making it one of the more relaxed assignments in the Gotei 13, something very strange had been happening.

One by one, his seated officers had been turning up dead.

Was it a personal vendetta? A provoked retaliation? Or had they stumbled upon something… far worse?

Countless possibilities ran through his mind, yet as the Captain, Kensei felt completely powerless.

No matter how much he investigated, he couldn't find a single lead.

"The corpses were mutilated beyond recognition—so much so that it's impossible to determine what actually killed them."

That wasn't just his opinion—it was an official report from the Fourth Division.

Even Unohana, ever-calm and composed, had looked… disturbed when she spoke about it.

"Given the state of the bodies, it's highly likely they suffered fatal injuries first—only to be further desecrated afterward."

We can't even identify the attacker.

We don't have any solid clues.

Frustration. Anger. Restlessness.

All of these emotions mixed together as Kensei sat at his desk, gripping his forehead.

He should have been able to protect his subordinates.

The fact that he hadn't was eating away at him.

His mood had visibly worsened, making it clear to anyone nearby.

"Geez, Kensei, you look like hell."

His Lieutenant, Kuna Mashiro, leaned against his desk, eyeing him with an exaggerated pout.

"You keep frowning like that, and you're gonna get wrinkles, y'know?"

"…"

"Here, have some of my cake. Maybe it'll cheer you up?"

"…"

"If you keep this up, you'll end up looking older than Yamamoto!"

"…You're so damn annoying."

Mashiro, with her bright green hair, flashy red scarf, and customized "SUPER 9" insignia on her uniform, was the complete opposite of what most people expected from a Lieutenant.

Kensei didn't understand half of her eccentric fashion choices—maybe he should ask Jūshirō or Sasakibe about it sometime.

But she hated talking to people outside of their division, so he never pushed the issue.

"Move over."

He lightly pushed Mashiro's head aside and adjusted his seating position, still staring at the report in his hands.

"Awww, c'mon. What's got you so grumpy?"

Kensei wasn't the type to confide in others.

Especially not Mashiro.

Not because he didn't trust her—if anything, she was one of the few people he could count on.

But this wasn't the kind of problem she could help with.

She wasn't an investigator. She wasn't a strategist. She was the kind of person who'd forget about a crisis five minutes after hearing about it.

If he told her, she'd probably just get frustrated with how complicated it was.

Kensei had long since stopped expecting help from others.

It wasn't about sharing the burden.

It was about solving the problem.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he stood up from his desk.

"Don't follow me."

"Huh?"

"I need some air. You handle things while I'm out."

"Ugh, so boring!"

Kensei smirked slightly.

"Consider it a favor to me."

Mashiro paused, her usual grin faltering for a brief second.

Then, she rolled her eyes and waved him off.

"Fiiine! Just don't take too long!"

He had barely stepped out of the office when his eyes caught movement in the hallway.

A familiar yet unfamiliar figure was passing by.

Frowning, Kensei called out.

"Hey. Hold up."

The person stopped in their tracks.

Their movements were stiff—like something wasn't quite right.

What the hell is up with this guy?

Then, Kensei noticed the visor-like device over their eyes.

Ah. That explained it.

It was him.

A relatively new addition to the Ninth Division.

One of the interns.

"You're… Tōsen, right?"

The man hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"Yes… Captain Muguruma."

He sounded unsure.

Like he was testing out the way Kensei's name felt in his mouth.

Kensei narrowed his eyes slightly.

"I don't remember seeing much of you. Been keeping busy?"

Before Tōsen could answer, Mashiro peeked over Kensei's shoulder.

"Ohhh, it's Tōsen! He's one of the new guys! Pretty strong, too—if I'm not careful, he might even beat me in a fight!"

Tōsen shifted uncomfortably.

"You overestimate me, Lieutenant. I am but a blind man. I do not compare to someone of your stature."

"Haha, you're so humble!"

Seeing how casually Mashiro interacted with him, Kensei decided to drop his suspicions.

If she trusted him, then there was no reason to assume anything was off.

"You're new here, but keep working hard," Kensei muttered as he walked away.

Tōsen remained silent as he watched him go.

——

The night was quiet.

A little too quiet.

Kensei had left the Ninth Division headquarters, walking without any real direction.

He just needed to clear his head.

After all, in the world of Soul Reapers, work never really stopped.

Even though it was late, the Ninth Division often had members patrolling the detention area.

Prisoners didn't exactly care about the time of day.

As the Captain, he had responsibilities that extended beyond himself.

Sacrifices had to be made.

Which is why he was always the one to take the night shifts.

Mashiro would just complain about "beauty sleep" and sneak off anyway.

Letting out another sigh, Kensei smirked slightly.

She was a pain in the ass… but she was reliable in her own way.

That was when it happened.

An unfamiliar reiatsu.

His instincts immediately kicked in.

Kensei stopped in his tracks.

He turned his head sharply to the left, his gaze locking onto a distant figure.

Someone's here.

The Ninth Division barracks were in a secluded part of Seireitei.

There were barely any footpaths leading out this far.

Most people had no reason to come here.

Which meant…

Whoever this was had come specifically for him.

His brow furrowed as he focused on the spiritual pressure.

It was strong. Captain-level strong.

And yet… completely unfamiliar.

What the hell…?

The correct decision would be to fall back—alert his division—rally reinforcements.

But.

Kensei clenched his jaw, his hand tightening into a fist.

He knew this bastard was responsible for his men's deaths.

And he refused to let him walk away unchallenged.

His knees bent slightly. His muscles tensed.

Then—

BOOM!

He vanished in a burst of speed, propelling himself forward in a powerful leap.

Like a meteor, he streaked across the dark sky before crashing down in front of the intruder.

Dust exploded outward.

Kensei stepped out of the rubble, his expression cold and unreadable.

Slowly, his gaze settled on the figure before him.

A lone figure, standing beneath the pale glow of the moon.

Draped in loose black robes, his build was slim—not what one would expect from someone with such immense reiatsu.

Kensei's eyes narrowed.

"You."

The masked figure tilted their head.

Then, they slowly drew their sword.

No words were needed.

The fight had already begun.

A distorted voice, neither male nor female, rang through the night.

"Come."

Mocking. Amused.

And then—

"I won't waste too much of your time."

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