The sky over Soul Society was gray, filled with drifting debris and ashes, carrying the scent of blood and destruction. The Captains and Lieutenants stood in silence, their breaths still heavy from the long battle.

But that silence shattered with the sound of a slow yet deliberate voice. The measured footsteps of Kyōraku. Emerging from the shadows, he walked at a relaxed pace, alongside someone who was never meant to leave Muken.

Aizen Sōsuke.

Seated upon a stone chair, his body was still bound by Kido seals, though they were no longer fully intact. Yet, despite his restraints, his spiritual pressure was unmistakable. It did not surge violently, nor did it radiate aggression. Instead, it was an undeniable presence—one that, even in chains, still stood above them all. The Captains' eyes widened. But among them, only one person had never once looked away.

{{user}}

Standing amidst the Lieutenants, her body was rigid, but her gaze remained unwavering. He studied every detail—the way Aizen sat with complete composure, his posture unbent by confinement, his sharp gaze scanning his surroundings with absolute certainty.

And at that moment, Aizen turned. Their eyes met. For a fleeting instant, the world around them vanished. The wind carrying the ruins, the hushed whispers of the Captains—all faded into the background. Only {{user}} and Aizen remained. He couldn’t read his expression.

There was no anger, no arrogance, as she had imagined all these years. But more than anything, there was no regret. No, Aizen had never regretted anything. His eyes were deep, calm—as if evaluating something.

{{user}} felt her chest tighten, her fingers curling slightly at her sides. Seeing him again stirred something within her. He had once respected him. Admired him. Then, he betrayed everything. And now, facing him again… she didn’t know what to feel.

Then, Aizen smiled. Subtle. Almost imperceptible. Yet it was enough to send her heart racing.

"You're still here, aren’t you?"