Shiba Kūkaku looked at Kurotsuki Renya, her eyes gradually filling with tears as she reached out a trembling hand.
Kurotsuki Renya stepped forward slowly and said, "Sister Kūkaku… you're not dreaming. It's really me."
Shiba Kūkaku immediately grabbed Renya and pulled him into a tight embrace.
Being over 1.7 meters tall, she smothered him completely, pressing his head into her chest.
"H-Hey… Miss Kūkaku… I can't breathe…"
Renya struggled helplessly, and after a moment, she finally released him, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"Miss Kūkaku," Renya said gently, smiling at her.
SMACK.
Her palm struck his face so sharply that a bright red print appeared instantly.
"Miss Kūkaku…?"
Renya stood stunned as Shiba Kūkaku glared at him, eyes blazing red with grief and fury.
"Do you have any idea," she choked, "how much pain you've caused me?"
"I'm sorry."
Renya lowered his head. He knew she would be devastated—seeing her like this made his heart twist painfully.
"Thirty years… thirty years! Do you know how much I've suffered?"
Her voice cracked near the end, all the tears she had held back for decades finally overflowing.
"You… how could you disappear for so long without a single word…"
She covered her face with her hands, trying desperately not to break down—but she couldn't stop herself.
This was the first time Renya had ever seen Shiba Kūkaku cry. The always-strong, brash, fiery woman was trembling, overwhelmed by agony she had buried for decades.
Renya understood.
They had been close friends—Renya saved her sister-in-law; her older brother, Shiba Kaien, had once saved Renya's life.
They built fireworks together, researched explosives, and spent countless days side by side.
After Renya left under the guise of death, the already-fragile Kūkaku—who had not yet become the hardened woman shaped by loss—carried that wound for thirty years.
And now, all the grief, confusion, loneliness, and suppressed longing burst out.
There was joy, too. But pain came first.
Renya stepped closer.
"Sister Kūkaku… if you're angry, you can hit me again."
Kūkaku lowered her hands, turned her face away, and said coldly:
"…I'm not hitting you again."
Renya blinked. "Huh? Sister Kūkaku, are you… not angry with me?"
"I'll never forgive you," she said stiffly. "Ever. From now on, I won't talk to you again."
Renya opened his mouth but froze.
This was the final wall after an emotional collapse—the last bit of anger and hurt that hadn't yet burned out.
Yoruichi stepped forward, blocking Kūkaku's path.
"Enough, Kūkaku. Don't take it out on him."
Kūkaku glared at Yoruichi.
Yoruichi continued, "You're angry, I know. But thirty years ago, a single mistake would've killed him. And what he's about to do now… he may very well die."
Shiba Kūkaku flinched, turning sharply toward Renya.
Renya scratched his cheek awkwardly. "It's not as dangerous as Lady Yoruichi makes it sound… I do have some confidence left."
"What happened?" Kūkaku whispered.
Yoruichi gestured. "Sit down first. Listen to everything before reacting."
"…Fine."
She sat stiffly. Yoruichi and Renya sat with her, and Renya began recounting everything—from Aizen's attack, Metastacia, the experiments, Aizen's manipulations, and the truth behind Renya's disappearance.
When she heard about Aizen's direct involvement, Shiba Kūkaku clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles cracked.
"So it was that snake… He dared to pull strings behind the scenes like that?!"
Renya continued—his exile, his years away from the Soul Society, and finally, his return with one purpose:
To kill Aizen Sōsuke.
"I'll help you," Shiba Kūkaku said immediately. "I may not be a Shinigami, but I can use high-class Kidō. I can back you up against Aizen."
Indeed—Shiba Kūkaku could cast Hadō #63: Raikōhō. Only Captain-class Shinigami—or prodigies like Rukia—could perform such techniques.
Renya shook his head.
"No, Sister Kūkaku. Your help would make things more dangerous. Aizen's Shikai makes coordinated attacks impossible. If too many people approach him, they'll strike each other instead of him."
Kūkaku's fists slowly relaxed.
"So what do you need from me?"
"First," Renya said, "help Kurosaki Ichigo and the others enter Seireitei."
Kūkaku nodded. "Two options. Use the fireworks cannon, or sneak in using the covert Ops transport route. The fireworks cannon is too loud—it'll alert the entire Gotei 13. The transport route is clean; for thirty years, our carts haven't been checked."
Renya replied, "Let them go by cannon. I'll enter using the covert Ops transport."
He needed Ichigo to create chaos—to serve as a distraction while he moved unseen.
Kūkaku nodded.
"Fine. I'll launch them with the cannon. The covert Ops cart arrives in three days—you'll stay here until then."
"No problem."
Renya looked at Yoruichi. "Please escort Ichigo. If he falls, teach him Bankai. We'll need his strength."
Even if Ichigo's Bankai slash was once caught bare-handed by Aizen, Ichigo hadn't seen Kyōka Suigetsu's Shikai—making him still valuable.
And Ichigo would protect Rukia.
But saving Rukia wasn't Renya's main purpose—not this time.
His one goal was Aizen.
Everything else was auxiliary—Ichigo included.
Renya had preparations: lethal moves, a few contingencies, and even an escape option. Everything was ready.
Only the opportunity was missing.
Shiba Kūkaku suddenly asked:
"You're using the covert Ops transport… so you're going to see Suì-Fēng, right?"
Renya froze.
Then he forced a smile.
"…No. I'll tell her after everything succeeds."
He didn't dare tell her he was alive—not yet.
Because he feared he wouldn't survive the mission.
And if Suì-Fēng learned he was alive only to lose him again…
She would break.
Completely.
Kūkaku stared at him.
"…Why do you think you'll die?"
Renya lowered his gaze.
Because he felt he had overlooked something.
Something vital.
And that single missing piece…
Would decide everything.
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