On a hillside where the stars could be seen, Sajin Komamura stood silently, gazing at an unmarked grave.
O nameless friend of Tōsen...
If it had been you, you probably could have stopped Kaname Tōsen.
Sajin Komamura had once believed that just as Kaname Tōsen had brought hope into his life, he too could pull Kaname Tōsen out of that dark world.
And yet all he could do was watch as Kaname Tōsen sank even deeper into the darkness.
His furry ears twitched, and Sajin Komamura turned around.
"Captain Komamura..." Shūhei Hisagi parted his lips.
Sajin Komamura gave a small nod in greeting.
The two of them stared at the gravestone in silence for a long while.
The sky was clear, clouds drifting lazily overhead.
["Hisagi, have the clouds... come out?"]
Kaname Tōsen often asked questions like that.
["Huh? The clouds... yeah, there are two or three."] That was how Shūhei Hisagi had answered.
["...I see?"] Back then, Kaname Tōsen would turn his face toward the sky, wearing an expression that was impossible to describe, both happy and sad at once.
If only he had asked...
Why had he asked that question? Why had he looked like that?
If he hadn't thought so much back then, if he had just spoken up and voiced the doubts in his heart to his Captain, maybe he could have understood him a little better. Maybe he could have done something.
But he asked nothing.
Not about Captain Tōsen's question, not about Captain Tōsen's expression, not about the justice Captain Tōsen spoke of.
He asked nothing. He simply believed, blindly.
Hisagi raised an arm and covered his eyes.
In that darkness, what had his Captain seen?
"Captain Komamura..." Shūhei Hisagi took a deep breath. "Captain Tōsen... he'll come back, won't he..."
He knew it was impossible, yet he still refused to let go of that last sliver of hope.
"He definitely will," Sajin Komamura answered without hesitation. "And when that time comes, we'll make Captain Tōsen see reason together!"
Shūhei Hisagi looked at his furry profile and nodded hard.
"As for the Ninth Division's affairs, coordinate some of it with Iba." Sajin Komamura turned around. "I will handle the rest as well."
"I'll take care of it." Shūhei Hisagi shook his head. Things were hard for everyone right now, and as long as he could manage it himself, he didn't want to trouble another division. "Captain Tōsen was always devoted to his duties..." Shūhei Hisagi paused. "I can handle the division's work on schedule."
"This month's Seireitei Communication will need major revisions," Sajin Komamura reminded him. "The more unsettled people are, the more important accurate information becomes. Compared to work others can do, you need to prioritize the work that only you can do."
Seireitei Communication was a public periodical published in the Seireitei, with some copies even distributed in parts of Rukongai. It was essentially managed by the Ninth Division.
Its earliest form had been a simple bulletin from several hundred years ago known as kawaraban. Clay tiles were carved with text and images, then fired to fix the design before being printed onto paper. Sellers would walk the streets reading them aloud as they sold them, which was why they were also called sell & read kawaraban.
After Kaname Tōsen became Captain, he incorporated printing techniques from the World of the Living. Alongside reports on major events in the Seireitei, he also had the Captains write essays and serialized fiction for publication there. In the end, it developed into something more like a magazine, with a somewhat eclectic mix of content, and became widely circulated throughout the Seireitei.
Just as Shūhei Hisagi had said, Kaname Tōsen had always been conscientious in his duties.
As Captain, Kaname Tōsen served as editor-in-chief. Though he could not see with his eyes, he was able to determine the contents on the page using special ink developed by the Research and Development Institute.
Shūhei Hisagi, the Ninth Division's Lieutenant, served as the responsible editor.
In the past, most of his work had been things like interviews and field reporting. But now that Kaname Tōsen was gone, the final responsibility for approving everything had fallen onto him. On top of that, with the Seireitei in the middle of a major crisis, the content that had already been planned now needed extensive revision. A great deal of it involved sensitive matters that would require repeated confirmation, sharply increasing both the workload and the importance of the job.
Shūhei Hisagi thought it over. He really wasn't comfortable leaving it to someone else, so he didn't force himself to act tough.
"Where is Lieutenant Iba right now?"
Sajin Komamura replied, "He should be at the Eleventh Division."
...
"The Captain said he wanted some time alone," Tetsuzaemon Iba said, sitting in the Eleventh Division dojo. "So I came here."
The place was filled with loud shouting and constant noise. That was just how the Eleventh Division was. If they weren't fighting, they were getting ready to fight.
Tetsuzaemon Iba actually liked it here quite a lot. After all, he had worked in this division for a long time.
Yumichika Ayasegawa brushed his hair back lightly. "Is Captain Komamura okay?"
"How could he possibly be okay..." Tetsuzaemon Iba's expression remained firm. "But a man has to be able to weather the storm on his own."
"You should at least put on a shirt." Yumichika Ayasegawa shook his head. "Honestly, if you like the Eleventh Division that much, why not just come back? Someone like you, who's skilled in everything from Zanjutsu to Hakuda and beyond, is exactly the kind of all-rounder we value here."
"I'm not some all-rounder. I just don't specialize in a single area, so I end up being more balanced overall." Tetsuzaemon Iba watched the sparring nearby, clearly itching to join in. "People like that are more likely to become Lieutenants."
"So it really is about becoming a Lieutenant." Yumichika Ayasegawa rested his chin on his hand. With Yachiru Kusajishi around, as long as Kenpachi Zaraki remained Captain, no one else was getting that position. "By your logic, you gave up excelling in one area and chose a more balanced path instead?"
"There's no 'giving up.' A man should aim to climb higher."
"I heard from Ikkaku you did it for your mother."
"Who would become a Lieutenant for that old hag?" Tetsuzaemon Iba pushed up his sunglasses, watching Ichigo Kurosaki sparring with Ikkaku Madarame. "A real man doesn't let his mother hold him back."
"Not bad!" Ikkaku Madarame swung his wooden sword. "You healed up pretty fast!"
"You're not bad yourself." Ichigo Kurosaki raised his wooden sword to block. "I thought you'd be stuck in bed for another half month."
"With the kind of injury you gave me? You think that'd keep me down that long?"
"I held back so you wouldn't be out even longer. Since you're not afraid of getting hurt, I'll give you what you want!"
Their wooden swords collided, and the two plunged into a fierce exchange.
He had come to rescue someone, yet in the end, he hadn't played much of a role.
He had heard that the Eleventh Division was the strongest when it came to fighting, and that Muten Natsu had trained here before. As soon as he recovered, Ichigo Kurosaki came straight here.
He needed to become stronger.
The noisy crowd suddenly snapped into formation and bowed in unison.
"Captain—!"
Kenpachi Zaraki pushed the door open, looking thoroughly irritated. Yachiru had led him the wrong way, and by the time he arrived, Sōsuke Aizen was already gone.
After that came the endless meetings he hated more than anything.