"I've decided to leave the Seireitei and head to the Human World."
"But, as that brat Byakuya said, Captain-Commander Yamamoto is not a threat to be taken lightly. His mere spiritual pressure is enough to make it hard to breathe..."
Kōga spoke with a grim expression.
"And?" Makoto asked.
"So, I need leverage—something that will make Captain-Commander Yamamoto hesitate, something that ensures he won't personally pursue me," Kōga replied.
Makoto blinked, sensing an ominous undertone. He pointed at himself, incredulous.
"You're not planning to use me as leverage, are you? Honestly, in terms of status and value, I doubt I'm even close to Byakuya's level."
"Exactly!"
Byakuya didn't flinch, boldly volunteering himself. "If you need a hostage, I'll do it."
Kōga shook his head, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with Makoto.
"Byakuya may be the heir of one of the Four Great Noble Clans, but in Captain-Commander Yamamoto's eyes, his status can't compare to yours, Makoto."
Makoto froze, confused.
Memories of his brief two encounters with Yamamoto flashed in his mind. He had never felt any particular affection or attention from the captain-commander; Yamamoto's demeanor had always been marked by stern authority and a disconcerting kindness.
But Kōga, as a member of the First Division's special forces, clearly knew something Makoto didn't.
Kōga's piercing gaze bore into Makoto as he continued, "Moreover, as a healer, you're far less dangerous compared to Byakuya, who was groomed as the Kuchiki Clan's heir since childhood."
Suddenly, Kōga tightened his grip on the sealing rod around Sōjun's neck. He pulled the Zanpakutō embedded in Sōjun's chest and stabbed it into another spot.
"Makoto, you're too kind-hearted to just stand by and watch Sōjun suffer, aren't you?"
Makoto's expression darkened.
Really? Emotional manipulation?
Did Kōga not understand that if someone had no morals, they couldn't be emotionally blackmailed?
What frustrated Makoto more was how harmless and innocent he apparently seemed.
Sighing internally, Makoto turned to look at Sōjun with a gentle, melancholic gaze.
"Makoto…don't…worry about me…" Sōjun whispered weakly.
Makoto thought silently, Sorry, Sōjun, but I really don't want to deal with this…
While Makoto had a kind heart, he certainly wasn't willing to sacrifice himself for Sōjun. At best, if Sōjun truly died, Makoto would mourn loudly to express his sorrow.
Before Sōjun could finish his plea, Kōga violently interrupted him.
Shunk!
Another stab. Blood splattered high into the air as Sōjun's body is pierced.
Byakuya's eyes turned crimson with rage as he roared, "Bastard! Stop it!"
But in his weakened state, he could barely hold his Zanpakutō, let alone challenge Kōga.
As Makoto prepared to leave with Byakuya, fulfilling his minimal sense of duty, an unexpected voice emerged.
"I see now," murmured Muramasa. "The zanpakuto spirit's consciousness has ventured outside its inner world. No wonder I couldn't locate it."
Makoto immediately felt a chill and turned towards his shoulder, where Shinro Basho's spirit rested.
However, Shinro Basho no longer displayed its usual liveliness. Its gaze seemed vacant as it stared at Muramasa, whose lips moved silently, clearly communicating with the spirit beyond Makoto's awareness.
Within seconds, Shinro Basho's expression shifted to rare fury. It abruptly turned and bit Makoto's ear—but, being a projection of spiritual energy, it passed through him harmlessly.
Shinro Basho seemed even more enraged, its ethereal form trembling.
Realizing the situation, Makoto called out, "Hey! Shinro Basho, snap out of it!"
Shinro Basho only cast him an annoyed glance before dissolving into light.
Suddenly, Makoto's Zanpakutō at his waist erupted in a flash of green light, wrenching itself free and landing beside Muramasa.
In an instant, Shinro Basho manifested in its physical form—identical to its appearance in Makoto's inner world.
Makoto's face darkened.
This was the same Shinro Basho that had once vowed unwavering loyalty?
The same one that promised never to betray him?
And yet, Muramasa's mere whispers had lured it into outright betrayal?
"Shinro Bansho…" Makoto's voice was calm, though barely masking his simmering fury. "I'll give you three seconds to get back here, or else…"
"Lululu~"
Shinro Basho stuck out its tiny pink tongue, dismissively retorting, "Annoying master! I've had enough of you making me heal people every day. I quit! I'm going with Muramasa. Don't miss me too much. Bye!"
Makoto's jaw clenched audibly, his molars grinding in frustration.
From the corner of his eye, he caught Urozakuro's smug, entertained expression, hidden only partially by its eyepatch. The irony of the moment wasn't lost on him—what goes around, comes around.
Kōga, observing Shinro Basho's adorable yet rebellious demeanor, found himself intrigued.
Though a manifested Zanpakutō's form didn't always correlate with its combat prowess, Shinro Basho hardly seemed imposing.
No wonder it's a healing-type Zanpakutō, Kōga mused. Its resentment toward Makoto stemmed from being overused for healing, making it susceptible to Muramasa's manipulation.
For Kōga, Makoto now appeared even less threatening than before.
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