"Meow—!"
The golden pupils of the black cat suddenly widened, its fur bristled, and it lunged toward the catnip in Arata's hand.
Just as it was about to touch that tempting scent, the spiritual pressure within its body suddenly trembled violently, and a blinding light burst out from beneath the black fur.
"Bang!"
After a puff of thick smoke, Arata felt his hand suddenly grow heavier, the small black cat had transformed into a hot‑bodied woman.
Her purple hair fell like a waterfall, her wheat‑colored skin glowed with health under the moonlight, and her long legs were draped over his arm in an extremely suggestive position.
"Oh? Looks like I've been exposed?" Shihōin Yoruichi licked the remaining juice of the catnip from the corner of her lips, and her golden eyes watched the young man before her with interest.
"Hmm… I remember the Saito family used to be a merchant family. How did they manage to raise a monster like you? You even recognize cats better than most."
Arata endured the soft pressure on his arm and pretended to be calm. "Thank you for the compliment, Lady Yoruichi, but before we get into that… wouldn't it be better if you put on some clothes first?"
The steam rising from the bath hadn't yet dissipated, and the pose in which the woman straddled Arata's arm had their noses nearly touching.
The scent of her body mixed with the humidity of the bathroom turned into an ambiguous haze under the moonlight.
"Clothes?" Yoruichi tilted her head and laughed, letting her fingertips slide across Arata's slightly tense collarbone.
"Are cats even creatures that need to wear clothes?" Her breath carried a hint of red wine, and her eyelashes cast a seductive shadow beneath her eyes.
Arata's adam's apple bobbed, and the muscles in his arms trembled slightly from tension.
The inner side of Yoruichi's thigh was pressed against the bend of his elbow, the warmth of her body seeping through the thin yukata fabric onto his skin, leaving a faint burning sensation.
The Zanpakutō tucked at his waist lightly trembled, as if expressing its dissatisfaction.
The sword spirit was furious!
Arata touched the sheath with his fingers to calm it, then quietly stepped half a step back, leaning his lower back against the cold sink.
"Cats, of course, don't need to. But the dignity of the head of the Shihōin family still needs to be maintained." Arata quickly pulled a yukata from the cabinet and tossed it to her.
The thin fabric brushed against her fingers, and she snatched it mid‑air.
Yoruichi placed her right hand on Arata's shoulder, lightly pushed off, and hopped down from him.
By the time he registered it, the woman was already dressed, a towel loosely tied around her waist.
Her honey‑colored neck shimmered under the moonlight, beads of water rolling down its lines into deeper shadows.
"You're much calmer than Soi‑Fong, kid." She suddenly leaned close to Arata's ear and whispered, "You didn't even scream when you saw me, the most wanted criminal in the Soul Society?"
Arata caught the scent of pine from her hair. He didn't know whether it was a high‑grade shampoo from the human world or some luxurious noble product she brought from Soul Society, but it unconsciously soothed him.
He turned, let cold water flow, and let it splash across his slightly reddened arms. "If you truly wanted to hide, even if I called the entire Onmitsukidō from Soul Society, we still wouldn't be able to find you, right?"
The sink water reflected Yoruichi's interested expression behind him.
"Besides…"
"Besides what?"
"Besides, if Shihōin Yoruichi, known as the 'God of Shunpō', really wanted to harm me, I don't exactly have much room to resist." Arata turned off the water, and the mirror reflected their overlapping silhouettes.
Yoruichi had silently pressed herself against his back; their damp purple hair touched, and for a moment, it was hard to tell who belonged to the Shihōin clan.
Anyone watching them would think they were simply one entity.
Yoruichi suddenly smiled and poked Arata's back muscles with her finger. "Your muscles are well‑trained, but you're a little too tense."
She flipped over and sat on the edge of the sink, crossing her legs.
The pure white yukata perfectly hid the deep shadows beneath it.
"I heard that your shunpō was harshly criticized by Soi‑Fong today?"
"Captain Soi‑Fong merely stated facts." Arata instinctively stepped a little farther from the woman and answered in a grounded tone, not getting angry even though she hit a sore spot.
On the contrary, he was a bit surprised.
It happened just today, he didn't expect Yoruichi to already know.
Even while staying in the human world, she could receive information from Soul Society this quickly?
As expected of Urahara Kisuke, harmless on the surface, but behind the scenes not any less scheming than Kurotsuchi Mayuri, that publicly acknowledged perverted scientist.
"As a shinigami who just graduated from the Shinō Academy, it's natural that my shunpō is far below Captain Soi‑Fong's level."
Yoruichi also noticed Arata was keeping a deliberate distance from her, thinking it was because of her status as a "traitor to Soul Society."
"Relax." Yoruichi stretched and placed her hands behind her head. Even the thicker yukata couldn't hide the firmness of her chest.
"I'm simply curious what kind of man is worth Soi‑Fong making an exception and personally training him."
She looked up at the ceiling with a faint smile, as if recalling something pleasant.
"That child hasn't laughed from the heart like that since I left."
Arata paused for a moment. Did Captain Soi‑Fong actually smile today?
How come he didn't notice?
He slowly calmed his breathing and answered quietly, "So you risked sneaking back into Soul Society tonight just to tell me that?"
"Half, let's say." Yoruichi lazily moved her legs. "It's been decades since I was last here. I went to Rukongai, found a bunch of new shops, and saw many things I've never seen before."
"That milk… ah, milk tea! You've probably had it already, right?" Yoruichi looked at him curiously.
"Of course. It's the most popular new drink right now." Arata nodded, speaking as casually as if chatting about life with an old friend.
Not only had he tasted it, in a way, he was indirectly one of the "creators" of the milk tea trend.
"And the other half is because Kisuke has some new inventions that need testing." She pulled out a small golden bell from behind her. "A special spiritual‑pressure detector for a certain kind of existence, disguised as a bell. Truly awful sense of humor…"
The bell jingled in the night breeze. Arata caught one key phrase and a thought flashed through his mind.
"A certain kind of existence… one that crosses the line between shinigami and Hollow?" Arata asked quietly.
Yoruichi didn't react at first, but after a second her expression changed drastically, and a terrible premonition hit her.
"Hey, kid, don't tell me you…"
Her voice grew serious, and the body that had been relaxed until moments ago now tensed—instantly entering combat mode.
How could he know that?!
About the very thing that nearly cost her, Kisuke, and a few others their lives?!
"Don't be nervous, Lady Yoruichi."
Arata raised his hands to show sincerity, signaling that he held no hostility.
"Speak! How do you know about that?" Yoruichi snapped, giving him no room whatsoever.
Arata sighed quietly. Such caution was understandable, after all, she had lived through the entire ordeal herself.
"It happened like this…"
He slowly began to talk.