The night wind of West Rukongai, District 2, was sharp and cold.
"Yoho~ Good evening, Shuuichi-kun! Long time no see~"
Playful as ever, the black cat landed lightly on Higashi Shuuichi's shoulder, its tail sweeping lazily across his back.
"Good evening, Captain Shihōin,"
Shuuichi answered with a mild smile.
"Ehh~ Didn't I tell you to just call me Yoruichi? Has five years apart really made us strangers?"
The cat pawed teasingly at his ear, prompting Shuuichi to instinctively tilt his head away.
"So then, Captain Yoruichi, what exactly did the Captain-Commander want when he sent you here?"
He cut straight to the point, not in the mood to deal with Yoruichi's usual teasing.
And what's with acting like we were ever close to begin with?
Most of their interactions had been mediated through Soi Fon anyway, or had been illusions crafted by Aizen's Kyōka Suigetsu for appearances' sake.
Seeing his reaction, the cat chuckled and leapt down onto the table where Shuuichi and Rangiku usually shared drinks.
"You really live up to what Urahara said—sharp as ever. How'd you guess it was the Captain-Commander who sent me?"
"Easy. Since I've returned, I've only seen three people: the Captain-Commander, Lieutenant Sasakibe, and my dear Rangiku. Of those three, only one would pass word to you."
He continued cleaning the room while speaking.
"Couldn't I have figured it out myself?"
Yoruichi asked with mock innocence, watching him with amusement.
Shuuichi shot her a deadpan glance.
"Do you believe that?"
"Hahaha! Fair enough~ Then I'll be direct. Shuuichi-kun, the Captain-Commander thinks the power you've borrowed from Hell is too dangerous. He asked me to install a little safety measure~"
Shuuichi blinked. Three visible question marks floated above his head.
Really now?
So the big, righteous Captain-Commander Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, the same one who just said "you're doing fine," turned around and sicced Yoruichi on me?
Nice betrayal, old man.
He sighed internally. Why do all these bigwigs keep trying to milk me like I'm some damn golden cow?
"Captain Yoruichi… You might not know this, but everything I did was authorized by the Dōma Clan—one of the Five Great Noble Houses. If you're trying to—"
Even while cursing inwardly, Shuuichi still tried to argue his case.
"Oh, you mean Saeko-sama of the Dōma Clan? Don't worry, I visited her first. She agreed to my little plan too~"
Even in her feline form, Shuuichi could hear the mischievous grin in her voice.
Okay. Okay.
He was surrounded by apex predators. Clearly, they had conspired to rope him in.
All he could do was resign himself to fate.
"Fine then. If Saeko-sama approved, I'll cooperate."
"Wonderful~ Now then, Shuuichi-kun, hand me your Zanpakutō."
"Eh? My Zanpakutō?"
He had expected to be asked for the Dōma Clan's heirloom blade, Seymibasa, but Yoruichi meant his Zanpakutō.
And then, the unexpected happened.
Before his eyes, the black cat shimmered and twisted—transforming back into human form.
Cue the holy light.
Curves. Skin. A body so perfectly sculpted it looked carved from moonlight and sin.
Shuuichi nearly had a nosebleed.
"Uhh—Captain Yoruichi… don't you think this is kind of… inappropriate?"
He whirled around, turning his back to her, trying to suppress the image now burned into his brain.
He remembered watching this exact scene in his past life—as a viewer. Never in his dreams had he imagined he'd get to live it.
"Inappropriate? Hm? I don't see a problem,"
Yoruichi said, bemused.
"No problem?!"
Shuuichi struggled to form words, his composure slipping with each heartbeat.
"Alright, alright. If it's too much for you, I guess I can put something on."
"Yes please."
Some moments later, the soft rustle behind him stopped.
"You can turn around now."
And when he did—
He regretted it.
Because barely dressed was still a stretch.
Yoruichi now wore nothing but a few strategically wrapped bandages over the bare minimum. The rest of her lithe body remained tantalizingly exposed.
Worse. This was worse than full nudity.
Hasn't she heard of the phrase 'less is more'?
"...Fine, Captain Yoruichi. If you're good with it, I guess I'll just enjoy the view."
He sighed, defeated, and stopped resisting.
"Perfect. Now then—give me your Zanpakutō~"
Shuuichi handed it over, reluctantly.
"Can I ask... why? I thought this was a 'protective measure'? Why seal my Zanpakutō?"
Yoruichi unwound the fresh bandage she'd just wrapped around her chest, then began binding it tightly around Shuuichi's blade.
"Simple. Seymibasa is a clan artifact—I can't seal it. But your Zanpakutō? That I can work with. Seal it, and you won't be able to use that dangerous Hell-forged power."
"Because without your Bankai, Shuuichi-kun, you won't be able to sustain that power for even a second."
"Relax—I'll allow you to use it again, if it becomes necessary."
Her smile didn't comfort him.
Shuuichi's brow furrowed, and for the first time since she disrobed, he no longer cared about her barely-there outfit.
You're sealing my Zanpakutō…?
It didn't cripple him completely—he still had Seymibasa. And honestly, most enemies who couldn't be handled without Bankai were beyond his league even with it.
But still—being stripped of his Zanpakutō's release was a serious constraint.
And the one doing the sealing? Yoruichi Shihōin.
If everything continued on its expected path, she'd eventually become one of his potential enemies.
Not great. Not great at all.