One year, for a Shinigami, is but a fleeting moment.
The fissure in the Dangai slowly closed above the 11th Division's barracks, like a healing wound.
Two figures stepped out from the fissure. One wore tattered clothes, his Zanpakuto still dripping with crimson Reiatsu not yet fully dissipated. The other had numerous cracks on his Cloth.
Zaraki grinned, revealing a smile full of the smell of blood. "Next time, I will win."
"I'll be waiting," Setsuna smiled. The cracks on his Cloth began to rapidly heal under the flow of the Nirvana Flames.
The moment the two landed, a figure quickly appeared.
"Captain, urgent orders from the Captain-Commander. All Captains are to proceed to the Captain-Commander's Office immediately." Aizen handed over a document.
Setsuna took the document and scanned its contents.
No specific explanation, only the word 'urgent', and the unique, seemingly burning Reiatsu imprint of Yamamoto.
"Looks like something happened." Setsuna turned to look at Zaraki. "You go back first and tend to your wounds."
Zaraki grunted, not arguing.
The wound on his chest, almost piercing his body, did indeed need treatment.
Although with his constitution, such an injury wasn't fatal, if left unchecked, it would hurt for at least ten days or half a month.
"When my wounds heal, we fight again."
With that, he dragged his Zanpakuto and staggered towards the 4th Division' barracks.
By the time Setsuna arrived at the Captain-Commander's Office, all the Captains were already present.
Naturally, no one had any objections to Setsuna's lateness.
Compared to successive Captains of the 11th Division, Setsuna coming in person was the utmost respect he could show them.
Yamamoto's gaze swept over everyone. "An emergency situation has occurred on the Western Branch Office's side. They have now formally requested our assistance."
Setsuna noticed that after Yamamoto announced the content of this meeting, the tense expressions of most captains quickly relaxed.
Even Kuchiki Ginrei, the Shinigami who valued rules the most, seemed somewhat dismissive.
The Seireitei is another name for the Eastern Branch Office, or rather, the Eastern Soul Society.
In the thousands of years since the Eastern Soul Society took the lead, the Western Branch Office had almost never proactively contacted the East.
For the Shinigami, that was another world, one regarded by the East as a 'barbaric land'. Naturally, they didn't care much about it.
"Western Branch Office?" Setsuna's voice broke the silence. He sat in the 11th Division's Captain's seat, still carrying the residual Reiatsu from the Dangai battle on him. "What place is that?"
Unohana explained in a gentle tone. "The Western Branch Office, located to the west of our jurisdiction, the 'Eastern Branch Office', is the governing organization for Western Shinigami. Unlike us, they refer to Hollows as [Dragons]."
She paused and shook her head slightly. "For a long time, they have been seeking a way to coexist peacefully with the Dragons."
A few faint snickers sounded within the Captain-Commander's Office.
For veteran Captains who had experienced the Hueco Mundo wars, the idea of 'coexisting peacefully with Hollows' was tantamount to a fool's dream.
Unohana continued. "This is also related to the environment in the West. Based on limited exchanged information, the Reishi concentration in the Western Branch Office's region is far lower than ours."
"Perhaps because the Soul King's power is primarily concentrated towards the East, the Dragons there, meaning Hollows, are generally weaker. To date, no Vasto Lorde-class Menos Grande has emerged there. Having never experienced true 'despair', they can harbor such a naive vision."
Yamamoto's gaze slowly swept over each captain present. "Then, which Captain is willing to accept this mission?"
Kyoraku toyed with the edge of his straw hat, his gaze wandering, as if pondering what sake to drink tonight.
Ukitake coughed lightly and looked out the window, appearing as one unwell and unfit for long journeys.
Even the usually battle-hungry Captains now lowered their heads.
In this era dominated by the Eastern Soul Society's perception, the distant Western world seemed to most Captains tantamount to a barbaric land with sparse Reishi and undeveloped order.
An expedition for support? That meant leaving the familiar Seireitei, going to a place where even breathing Reishi was difficult, facing a group of 'colleagues' with completely different ideologies, dealing with a bunch of inexplicable troubles...
Just thinking about it gave them a headache.
Setsuna's voice chimed in at the right moment. "I'll go."
Yamamoto looked at him, a glimmer of approval flashing in those deep eyes.
Although he had initially been quite wary of Setsuna, fearing he might become a source of chaos, over the past year, Setsuna had not only done nothing outrageous but had also worked tirelessly without complaint.
Compared to other 'seasoned' Captains, Setsuna, as a new Captain, was full of vitality.
"Excellent." Yamamoto nodded. "This matter is hereby placed under your full authority. The Western Branch Office's situation is unique. I hope you will act cautiously, both providing assistance and... exercising appropriate discretion."
"Understood." Setsuna rose and gave a slight bow.
…
Returning to the 11th Division's barracks from the Captain-Commander's Office, Setsuna did not go to his own room but walked straight towards the training ground. He knew Zaraki would definitely be there.
Sure enough.
In the center of the training ground, the man covered in bandages yet still wielding his Zanpakuto was frantically hacking at a massive Reishi target.
Each slash carried almost tangible killing intent. Each slash left bone-deep cracks on the target.
The surrounding members kept their distance, fearing they might be caught in the violent Reiatsu.
"Zaraki."
Setsuna's voice wasn't loud, yet it clearly pierced through the roar of the slashes.
Zaraki stopped his movements. A remnant of battle fervor still lingered in his eyes. "What? Want another fight?"
"Can't fight for now." Setsuna walked up to him. "I need to leave for a while. Going to the Western Branch Office."
"Western Branch Office?" Zaraki frowned, obviously having no concept of the term. "What place is that? Any fights there?"
"There are, but I'm not taking you," Setsuna said concisely. "While I'm away, you'll oversee the 11th Division's affairs."
Zaraki's expression instantly froze.
He stared at Setsuna as if hearing some fantasy.
"Me?" He pointed at himself, his voice filled with disbelief. "Oversee... affairs? Are you crazy? I can't even read all the characters!"
"No need to read," Setsuna smiled. "The 11th Division's duty is simple… cutting people. If a Menos Grande invades, cut it. If a mission is assigned, take the men and go cut it. If a member causes trouble..."
Setsuna paused. "Well, can't cut that one. Use your fists to reason with them a bit."
Zaraki was silent for a moment, then grinned, revealing a fierce and pure smile. "Then I've got it."
Setsuna turned and waved to a member at the edge of the training ground. "Go get Aizen and Yoruichi. Have them come to my room."
"Yes!" The member ran off as if pardoned.
After all, standing near Zaraki was just too stressful.