"A day like this is really unpretentious, quiet, and comfortable."
Inside the captain's room of the Eleventh Division, Gosuke Shigure sat behind the desk, hands busy with paperwork, and couldn't help voicing his thoughts aloud.
Several days had passed since Azashiro Soya had become the Eighth Kenpachi, captain of the Eleventh Division.
Whether the members of the division accepted it or not, the fact remained unchanged — Azashiro was now Kenpachi.
What helped ease their resentment, however, was that the new Kenpachi seemed to have no intention of altering the Eleventh Division's structure or culture. It appeared that all he wanted was the title itself, not the power that came with it.
Since Azashiro had only just succeeded as captain and was unfamiliar with the division's administrative routines, much of the actual team management still fell — as before — onto Vice-Captain Gosuke Shigure's shoulders.
To be honest, handling team affairs felt surprisingly novel to the newly reborn Shigure.
In his previous life — the Soul Society of more than a thousand years ago — the world had been a vortex of chaos. Shinigami had lived by the blade, not by order.
'Either I kill you, or you kill me.' was the rule of that age. Nobles existed then as well, but most of them were just corrupt opportunists — villains cloaked in silk, plundering what they could from both commoners and other noble houses.
Conflicts between clans were constant; entire noble lineages had vanished in those battles.
In such an age, who had the time — or the peace — to handle administrative duties?
These routines of paperwork and coordination only became possible after the founding of the Gotei 13.
Fortunately, Shigure had fully inherited the memories of his predecessor, and in his human life back on Earth, he had worked for some time as a clerk.
This background, combined with the original Gosuke's experience, made handling team affairs surprisingly easy. Within a few days, he'd adapted completely.
To the rest of the Eleventh Division, paperwork was the most boring task imaginable.
To them, only a fool like Gosuke would enjoy it.
But to the current Gosuke Shigure, sitting quietly in an office and handling reports — without hacking anyone to death or worrying about being hacked himself — was the definition of happiness.
A simple, peaceful day… the kind he could have only dreamed of in his first life.
…
The Gotei 13 had originally been established to combat the quincy rebellion led by Yhwach.
When that great war ended, the organization had not been dissolved. Instead, supported by the major noble families, it had survived and evolved into the governing force of the Soul Society.
While the nobles were undeniably the primary beneficiaries of that structure — and the civilians' uprisings had failed miserably — there was no denying that the Gotei 13 had brought relative stability.
They centralized the Soul Society's power, concentrating it in Seireitei's small circle, which allowed more effective defense against Hueco Mundo's incursions.
Each of the thirteen divisions performed its own duty.
Among them, the Eleventh Division had the simplest role of all.
They were the combat corps.
Its members were fighters — reckless, direct, and gloriously unrestrained. They took pride in their brute strength and swordsmanship, and they scoffed at Kido-type Zanpakutō. Within this division, a shinigami whose blade could not cleave through an enemy's flesh was not worth mentioning.
Because of that, the division's internal affairs were remarkably easy to manage.
There were no elaborate intelligence networks, no diplomatic missions.
All Shigure had to do was monitor the reiatsu alerts sent by the Twelfth Division, confirm where hollow activity had been detected, and dispatch a squad to annihilate the threat.
Straightforward. Brutal. Efficient.
After distributing the latest mission assignments, Shigure leaned back and watched the scene before him.
The officers who had been chosen for combat left the room with excitement blazing in their eyes.
Those who hadn't been selected looked visibly disappointed.
That was the Eleventh Division's way — pure and unpretentious. Its members lived for the thrill of battle. When there were no missions to fight, they felt restless, even lost.
Shigure noticed their disappointment but chose not to comment. He understood them too well.
As he finished the last stack of paperwork, he stretched lazily and let out a small breath.
'Maybe I should make a tea set later,' he thought, 'and enjoy some quiet tea between assignments. A little peace before the chaos.'
Just then, flutter — a black Hell Butterfly drifted gracefully into the room.
…
The Hell Butterfly was the shinigami's most trusted messenger, as well as the ethereal guide that led purified souls to the Soul Society after a Soul Burial.
It was one of the most crucial tools cultivated by the shinigami themselves.
In these days, before the founding of the Technology Development Bureau, there was little innovation in communication.
Only when a shinigami invented something revolutionary could they earn a place in the Zero Division — and few ever achieved that.
For now, the thirteen divisions still relied on these ancient yet reliable butterflies for information exchange.
The small creature circled Shigure once, then hovered in front of him.
He raised a hand gently. The butterfly landed upon his finger, and with a faint pulse of spiritual energy, information flooded his mind.
"I see." he murmured softly.
He nodded to the Hell Butterfly, allowing it to flutter away.
*Flutter*
As it disappeared beyond the door, Shigure's brow furrowed slightly.
'The situation isn't good.'
A few days ago, after Kenpachi Kuruyashiki's battle with the Vasto Lorde-class hollow from Hueco Mundo — and the subsequent death of that monstrous creature — it should have been a long while before Hueco Mundo made another move.
Yet, according to this new report, traces of Menos Grande-class reiatsu had been detected again in the outer districts of Rukongai.
Several Menos Grandes had crossed the boundary from Hueco Mundo.
The Twelfth Division had picked up the signatures first and immediately relayed the report to the Eleventh Division.
Shigure rubbed his chin. "Assign this to one of the officers?"
His first thought was of those disappointed squad members who had been grumbling earlier about having no mission.
But then he shook his head.
Though the officers of the Eleventh Division were formidable fighters, their strength came from experience and reckless courage, not strategy.
Even the weakest Menos Grande — a Gillian — had a vast body and immense spiritual pressure. Against such opponents, even a seasoned fighter could easily be injured… or killed.
Shigure hesitated. He had only just been reborn, but the memories of his predecessor were still vivid.
He had no desire to see his comrades' funerals again so soon.
Of course, he knew he couldn't protect them forever.
So sooner or later, they would face danger on their own.
But for now — just for this moment — he didn't mind shielding them a little longer.
'It's only a few Menos Grande.' he thought. 'With my old experience, this shouldn't be a problem.'
Still, he had no intention of handling it personally. Even as vice-captain, he was aware of the proper chain of command.
Above him stood the captain — the new Kenpachi.
And so, decision made, Gosuke Shigure gathered the mission scrolls, rose from his desk, and left the captain's room. His steps were steady and unhurried, his expression calm but thoughtful.
*****
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