In the Kasumiōji mansion, in the banquet hall.
"I am deeply honored to host all the esteemed guests from the Seireitei in my humble residence." Kasumiōji Kumoi stood on a high platform in the center of the banquet hall and bowed broadly to everyone around him with a wide smile. "The head of the family, Rurichiyo–sama, has caught a cold and is unable to receive you personally today. I offer my apologies on her behalf."
He wore a luxurious purple kimono, his gray hair carefully combed, giving off the appearance of a loyal, old steward.
But Arata, watching clearly through the ceiling opening, saw the sinister glint that flickered through those cloudy eyes.
"The Kendo Tournament is an event held once a century in the Soul Society. My Kasumiōji family is honored to be the host of this event." Kumoi's voice, amplified by speakers, echoed throughout the hall. "Tonight, we have specially prepared light wine. I hope you enjoy it."
A sparse applause was heard from the audience.
Tonight truly could be called a major event for the Soul Society. All the captains of the Gotei 13 were present, and the turnout was even greater than at regular captain meetings.
The captains of each division gathered in twos or threes, seemingly chatting casually, but in fact, all were secretly on guard. Of course, there were a few captains who really came just to eat.
For example, Zaraki Kenpachi and Sōsuke Aizen.
Only the former didn't have a shred of restraint in his head, while the latter simply didn't care.
Why would a king standing in the sky pay attention to the schemes and tricks of ants crawling on the ground?
Arata noticed that Yamamoto Genryūsai stood alone in a corner, tapping his cane on the floor, his eyes gently closed, seemingly indifferent to everything around him.
"That old fox…" Kūkaku whispered quietly into Arata's ear, her warm breath brushing his earlobe. "He's really putting on a convincing act."
"Of course. He's held the position of the head family's attendant for years, more or less acting as the master of the house."
Arata nodded, and his gaze settled on the two attendants behind Kumoi.
They seemed devout, holding pitchers of wine, but their fingers constantly rested on the hilts of their swords, ready to draw them at any moment.
After finishing his speech, Kumoi slowly stepped down from the platform, first bowing respectfully to Captain Yamamoto, then proceeding to greet the other captains.
When he stopped in front of Unohana Retsu, the old man's smile clearly froze for a moment.
"Captain of the Fourth Division, it is truly an honor to have you here." Kumoi bowed deeply. "I've heard you've recently taken on a new student. I wonder, might you be able to introduce him to me today?"
It was no secret that Arata often visited the Fourth Division to study Kaidō. In fact, most within the Thirteen Court Guard Squads knew he had a very close relationship with Unohana Retsu.
It was expected that the Kasumiōji family had gotten hold of that information too.
Unohana Retsu smiled softly, the sheath of her Zanpakutō on her hip gleaming with a cold glint under the lights. "Kumoi–dono, you are well informed, but my student has other important obligations today. I'm afraid I must disappoint you."
"Oh… what a shame. Rurichiyo–sama has always held great admiration for your student and often tells me how she would love to meet Saito–kun."
Their conversation appeared ordinary on the surface, but was actually full of hidden meanings.
After exchanging greetings with the captains, Kasumiōji Kumoi officially announced the start of dinner.
A smile played across his polite face, but in the corners of his eyes, a cold gleam flashed now and then. As he adjusted his sleeves, he quietly whispered to one of his closest men: "Go check on Rurichiyo and make sure she's sleeping peacefully."
Then he turned to another servant and said, "Prepare 'that thing' and wait for my signal."
Kumoi thought no one noticed what he was doing, but he didn't count on Arata above in the ceiling having already read his lips.
He turned to Kūkaku beside him and said softly, "That old fox Kumoi is really making his move. He's sent someone to check on Rurichiyo and told someone else to prepare something…"
Kūkaku's brows twitched slightly, her fingers unconsciously brushing over the special spirit bomb she carried. "Something… could it be the 'Demon Flower'?"
"It's still unclear, but we can't let him succeed so easily." Arata shook his head.
"What do we do now?"
"We split up." Arata's eyes remained calm. "You keep watching Kumoi. If he makes any unusual move, activate the spirit bomb immediately and create a distraction. I'll go find Rurichiyo. It's very likely she's being held under house arrest."
Kūkaku bit her lower lip, as if wanting to say something more, but in the end only nodded. "Take care of yourself. Don't get caught."
Arata gently patted her on the shoulder. The warmth from his fingertips made the dark red lines beneath their skin glow briefly before quickly fading.
Kūkaku abruptly turned her head to the side, the tips of her ears slightly flushed.
The heart of the Soul King is not omnipotent. After the fusion, Arata realized that the side effects of the "Demon Flower" in his body had not completely disappeared, and that the spiritual bond between him and Kūkaku still existed.
Wasn't the effect of the "Demon Flower" supposed to be some kind of curse or negative state?
Arata racked his brain but couldn't figure out the point.
…
Using the commotion in the banquet hall as cover, Arata silently returned through the secret passage, then slipped into the main part of the Kasumiōji residence.
There weren't many guards in the hallways. Clearly, most had been transferred to the banquet hall to maintain order.
He put on a Void mask, disguising himself as a servant meant to be working in the hall. After holding his breath and focusing his thoughts, he maximized his sense of spiritual pressure and soon detected a faint fluctuation of spiritual energy deep within the mansion.
It was a carefully suppressed breath, like the flame of a candle in the wind.
"Kasumiōji… Rurichiyo." Arata's heart fluttered, and he silently moved toward the source of that spiritual pressure.
After passing through several winding corridors, he stopped in front of a richly carved wooden door.
The barrier on the door emitted weak spiritual pressure, but for Arata at this point, that level of defense posed no challenge.
He concentrated a sliver of spiritual pressure in the tip of his finger and lightly touched the weak point of the barrier; it dissolved silently, like a soap bubble.
As soon as he opened the door, a strong scent of incense hit him.
The room was barely lit, only a small oil lamp flickering weakly. On the bed was a curled-up small figure, Kasumiōji Rurichiyo.
The blonde-haired girl couldn't have been more than ten years old; her pale cheeks were streaked with dried tears. Her breathing was weak and steady, clearly forced into deep sleep with the help of medicine.
Thin chains made of spiritual particles were wrapped around her wrists and ankles, the other ends fixed to the bedposts. Symbols for suppressing spiritual pressure were engraved on the surface of the chains.
In the corner of the room were two unconscious shinigami men, also bound. One was a large guy with spiky hair and sunglasses, the other had a melancholic face resembling Shiba Kaien.
Arata recognized them from memory.
Kenryū and Enryū, the only two bodyguards of the Kasumiōji family truly loyal to Rurichiyo.
"So they really are holding her under house arrest…"
Arata ignored the two guards, walked straight to the bed, and gently touched Rurichiyo's forehead.
Green Kaidō light flowed, and the sedatives in the girl's body quickly broke down.
Her eyelashes trembled, and she slowly opened her eyes.
"Who… are you?" Rurichiyo's voice was weak, but full of caution, and she instinctively pulled back.
Arata raised his index finger to his lips and whispered, "I came to rescue you, Kasumiōji Rurichiyo–sama."
At that form of address, a flicker of bitterness flashed in the girl's eyes. "Rescue me? Heh… who would even want to help me? Grandpa Kumoi said everyone just covets the power of the Kasumiōji family…"
Arata didn't rush to explain, but instead extended his hand and lightly grabbed the chain on her wrist.
A surge of powerful spiritual pressure flowed through, and the engraved symbols on the chain began to melt, like ice before a blazing fire.
"You've been deceived, Rurichiyo–sama."