With the mission complete, it was time to collect the spoils.
That was when Higashi Shūichi hit a snag.
"Hey, Little Shūichi, you seem reeeally interested in that Zanpakutō," Lilynette chirped, hopping to his side with a teasing grin.
"Mm," Shūichi nodded, his gaze fixed on the still-glowing weapon before him.
After all, this was no ordinary blade. This was Raika, the Bakkōtō—a mimic blade capable of sealing away even the release of Genryūsai Yamamoto's Zanpakutō. Unlike the Sternritter's Medallions, which could merely steal a Bankai, Raika suppressed everything: Shikai, Kidō, even spiritual techniques.
For a Shinigami facing Raika, the only options left were Hakuda and basic swordplay.
For someone tied to Aizen Sōsuke's faction, it was the ultimate trump card.
Owning Raika meant that when the day inevitably came—when Aizen fell and the tides turned—Shūichi could "defect" back to the Gotei 13 with a weapon strong enough to deter any pursuer who doubted his "deep cover" excuse.
But the problem now… was how to claim it.
If his memory was right, a Bakkōtō and a Zanpakutō could not coexist. To wield Raika meant forsaking Heibansha—his current blade, nurtured through sweat and battle.
And truth be told, Shūichi wasn't willing to give it up. Heibansha had grown with him. Its ability was precise, versatile—deadly when needed.
Which meant he couldn't touch Raika. He feared that the moment he did, the mimic blade would imprint on him, forcibly overriding his connection to Heibansha.
But if he left it untouched, it would only be a matter of time before the Kasumiōji Clan sent agents to reclaim it. And when that happened, odds were high they'd dispatch a Captain-class figure to do the job.
"Hahh... guess I have no choice but to tell Aizen."
Shūichi sighed, frustrated but not stupid.
Rationality won out. He had to report this, ask Aizen to dispatch Gillian-class Hollows to transport the blade back to Las Noches for safekeeping.
Of course, he'd have to keep certain things off the record.
Anything related to Raika's true nature—its capacity to seal spiritual powers, the fact it wasn't a real Zanpakutō at all—had to remain secret. He'd also need to grease the wheels with Szayelaporro Grantz, to ensure the scientist didn't get too curious about the weapon's properties.
As for Aizen himself? Shūichi guessed the man wouldn't be too invested. Lately, Aizen had focused all his attention on the nature of the Shinigami soul. Something like Raika—dangerous, yes, but fringe research—would be left to someone else.
Still, just as Shūichi began preparing to send his message, Starrk stirred.
"Something's off... I don't like the look of things near Baraggan's end."
He frowned, gaze drifting toward the distant shadows of Las Noches.
"Totally expected," Shūichi muttered with a wry smirk. "That side's supposed to be Baraggan and Szayelaporro... but let's be honest, Szayel's probably just standing back taking notes—and maybe 'accidentally' helping the Tenth Division Captain survive. Gotta keep his test subject alive, after all."
He couldn't shake the feeling that Aizen never intended for Baraggan's team to succeed. If anything, it felt like he had set them up—perhaps to check Baraggan's ego.
Otherwise, why split them into two groups?
If Aizen had really wanted results, he could've grouped Baraggan, Starrk, Szayel, and Shūichi all together. With that firepower, even Kyōraku Shunsui would've had to fight for his life.
"Should we assist them?" Starrk asked.
Even though he wasn't fond of Baraggan, Starrk still viewed Aizen's orders with respect. Internal squabbles meant nothing in the face of duty.
But Shūichi shook his head. "No need. Just sit back and enjoy the show."
He knew what Starrk was thinking, but saw no reason to waste effort.
Then his communication link activated—Aizen was calling.
And just as Shūichi had guessed, the man had returned to Hueco Mundo.
Or more accurately, he had briefly returned to the Soul Society to use Kyōka Suigetsu and create an airtight alibi for himself and Shūichi—then quietly returned to clean up after Baraggan.
When Shūichi connected, Aizen had just finished disposing of the "coincidentally escaped" Tenth Division Captain.
"A Zanpakutō that doesn't revert into an Asauchi after its wielder dies?" Aizen mused, eyes gleaming.
Shūichi remained cautious.
He hadn't revealed Raika's true identity. As far as anyone—including Starrk and the other Arrancar—knew, this was just a "special" Zanpakutō.
"Yes, Aizen-sama. Given its apparent tendency to consume the wielder's Reiatsu, I don't believe it's safe for me to bring it back personally. May I request you dispatch a few Gillian to secure it?"
He bowed politely, voice calm.
But Aizen surprised him.
"Bring it back? Why would we do that?"
Shūichi froze. This... wasn't the response he expected.
"What do you mean, Aizen-sama?"
"Leave it where it is," Aizen said with a faint smile. "If this blade truly is unique, there's no way the Captain from the Expeditionary Force crafted it himself. Had that been the case, the Gotei 13 would have known about it long ago."
"In other words, someone else forged it. And I doubt they'll just sit back and let the Seireitei's cleanup squads collect it."
"Track them. Follow their agents. Discover the truth of their intentions. And if you're wrong... then eliminate everyone who comes for it and then have the Gillian retrieve it."
It was rare for Aizen to spell out his thoughts so clearly.
And when he finished, Shūichi felt his burden lift.
He had worried over nothing. He had fallen into the trap of viewing the world from his own narrow lens—assuming Aizen, with all his grand ambition, would obsess over one measly blade.
But Aizen didn't care about the object. What mattered was what it revealed.
"Good," Shūichi murmured, ending the connection with a smirk.
"Aizen really is a great boss."