Once the meeting adjourned, Makoto left the First Division meeting room with a heavy heart, striding briskly outside.
He'd originally planned to hone his reishi particle control in Soul Society, but now that he was roped into the expeditionary force, there was no helping it, he'd need to strategize carefully.
Having read and watched the manga and anime, Makoto's knowledge of Hueco Mundo surpassed that of many Captains and researchers.
In relative terms, Hueco Mundo's expanse dwarfed Soul Society, with most of its territory consisting of desolate wastelands devoid of settlements, and no Hollow equivalents of populated areas.
It was split into two layers, surface and subsurface.
And the sheer number of Hollows was beyond counting.
If anything, it was a true dark forest in every sense.
Every Hollow was either hunting others or being hunted.
In a place teeming with danger, the only two issues that mattered most were food and navigation.
Though it'd been a while, Makoto vividly remembered Ashido Kanō, the Shinigami from the original expeditionary force who'd been stranded in the Forest of Menos for centuries after getting lost.
To ensure the expedition's edge, Makoto figured he'd better consult Senjumaru beforehand about crafting tech to secure survival and positioning.
"Hey?"
Lost in thought, he suddenly felt a pair of small feet land on his shoulders.
Looking up, he saw Saitō perched atop him, somehow weightless as she clung on.
Makoto squinted. "What are you doing?"
Saitō, the pint-sized gremlin, seemed to defy gravity. Her right leg hooked around his neck, her upper body slanting to one side, her single eye aligning with his face as she grinned cheekily.
"Since earlier, you've had this super serious look on your face!"
"You're definitely up to something fun, right?"
"Take me along too!"
Clearly, Saitō was bored out of her mind.
"Wait a sec... you're a Captain, right?"
"Between expedition stuff and squad duties, you should be swamped right now..."
Makoto's eyes widened as if he'd uncovered a grand conspiracy. "You! You're just trying to slack off?!"
At that, Saitō's lone eye darted guiltily to the side, avoiding his gaze.
"W-Well, that's what Vice-Captains are for, right?!"
"Plus, I can't even read the stuff!"
She sounded almost proud of it.
"Forget that, can you get off my neck first?" Makoto patted her leg. "You're choking me."
"Nope!"
Saitō reverted to her impish grin. "Walking's too tiring! Hurry up and run!"
"Giddyup!"
She barked her command, even smacking his backside hard as if spurring a real steed.
Makoto shot a sidelong glance at her deep purple twin tails, silently vowing to one day grab that steering wheel.
"Run already!"
Saitō yelled, impatient.
"Yes, yes~"
Makoto's voice dripped with exhaustion.
Under her relentless prodding, he finally used Shunpo to zip across the long corridor.
Meanwhile, Kuriyashiki Ryoma who was currently walking while holding a pile of documents in his hand suddenly felt something above him.
Looking up, he caught sight of Saitō riding Makoto as they vaulted over the palace roof.
"Vice-Captain Makoto and Captain Saitō sure get along well huh."
Then he trudged on toward the lieutenant's office.
Why did post-establishment work feel even heavier than back at the Genji School?
Misery.
…
After the Gotei 13's founding, duties were chaotic, and early departmental roles remained murky.
This was reflected in the infrastructure redundant departments abounded.
Setting aside the rest, there were four or five units just for crafting supplies.
Still, the most useful by far was the Soul Society Technological Development Department, created solely for Senjumaru.
Since the Gotei 13 had recently confiscated technical manuscripts from noble families, Senjumaru had holed up here day and night, rarely stepping outside except to sleep.
Naturally, Makoto came here to find her.
"Ah! Makoto-nii!"
He'd barely crossed the threshold when a pink-haired girl in an oversized lab coat dashed out, waving at him excitedly.
But as her gaze lifted, Kirio's expression froze, her eyes widening.
"Makoto-nii! There's an evil spirit on your back!"
"What do you mean 'evil spirit'?" Saitō's grin vanished, her face darkening. "I'm a Shinigami, okay?!"
Makoto, though, offered earnest advice. "Kirio-chan, don't talk too much with idiots."
"Otherwise, you'll end up a useless adult who hates work too."
Kirio sighed lightly. "But I don't want to work either."
"Huh?"
Before Makoto could process that, footsteps echoed from inside, followed by researchers shouting, "13th Seat Kirio Hikifune! Please finish the rest of those research reports soon!"
"Tomorrow's the deadline!"
Kirio's face tightened. She waved hastily at Makoto. "Makoto-nii! I-I'll play with you next time!"
"I've got other stuff to do today, so I'm heading out!"
With that flustered shout, the tiny figure yanked up a translucent cloak and vanished from sight in an instant.
"Whoa..."
Makoto and Saitō both jolted, their eyes widening in sync.
Kirio's reiatsu quickly faded into the distance.
All that remained was a gaggle of bewildered researchers.
"That's the kid you brought back, right?" Saitō still perched on his neck peered toward where Kirio had disappeared, sounding astonished. "She's so small... does she really have to work here already?"
Makoto shot her a puzzled look.
"You're not exactly big yourself, are you?"
"Huh?"
"You dare look down on me?!"
Saitō promptly seized his hair. "I've eaten more salt than you've had rice!"
"Ow, ow, ow, that hurts!"
"I'm gonna pluck you bald today! Bald!" Saitō stomped his face with her little feet while wreaking havoc atop his head.
"Please, have mercy!" Makoto pleaded repeatedly.
He didn't want to relive his programmer days in this lifetime.
Bickering and tussling, the two made their way deeper into the research institute.
Senjumaru sat at a machine, studying the microscopic structure of a peculiar fabric. She raised her eyebrow when she saw Saitō atop Makoto.
"Oh my… such enthusiasm in broad daylight?"
"But if possible, could you refrain from such vulgar displays on my turf?"
"What's vulgar about it?" Saitō blinked, confused.
Makoto sighed helplessly. "What exactly do you think we're doing?"
Senjumaru feigned puzzlement. "Isn't it like those close-knit groups of Kita Island macaques, riding each other's backs in hot springs, grooming fur, and building rapport for upcoming mating rituals?"
"N-No way we're mating!" Saitō's face flushed red as she shouted in protest, she'd caught that word loud and clear.
"But you don't deny the 'mutual grooming' or 'riding on top' parts, does she?"
Senjumaru's tone remained nonchalant.
She'd always had this lofty, second-to-none arrogance, her voice perpetually cool.
"That's not true either!"
Saitō's face stayed crimson as she yelled back.
It was as if she'd finally realized how embarrassing this looked.
But thanks to that, Saitō at last hopped off Makoto's neck.
A cause for celebration.
Makoto cast a grateful glance at Senjumaru.
Catching his look, Senjumaru merely snorted with faint disdain, a trace of displeasure in her demeanor.
Tolerating anyone's whims…
That's not a good habit.
"So?" Senjumaru asked leisurely. "You didn't come here just to mark your territory with urine like rutting canines announcing their breeding age, right?"
"Get to the point, I've got research to finish."
Makoto straightened his expression and explained concisely, "Since I'll be joining the Hueco Mundo expedition, I wanted to ask if you could whip up some gadgets for long-range positioning and life detection."
"Also, I need a device to help train my reishi particle control."
Hearing his matter-of-fact tone, Senjumaru turned to him, her gaze subtly probing. "Vice-Captain Makoto."
"Are you misunderstanding something?"
"Hm?"
Makoto froze at her words.
Senjumaru continued slowly, "The Technological Development Department's annual budget and research goals are fixed. Equipment requests follow the process you established, set at the start of each year."
"This isn't your personal treasure chest."
"Oh, uh…"
Before he could finish, Senjumaru cut him off, her voice flat. "These are the rules you set, Vice-Captain Makoto."
"You're not thinking of breaking them, right?"
Her elegant tone carried a clear teasing edge.
Only then did Makoto recall... last month, Senjumaru had come to him griping about the Technological Development Department's measly budget allocation.
Talk about holding a grudge…
"Actually, I've already submitted a report to increase the department's budget percentage!"
Makoto's demeanor turned dead serious in an instant. "Not only that, but the Eleventh Division's combat gear development funds for the next century will also tilt toward your department."
"It just hasn't been reported to the Captain yet."
Senjumaru finally flashed a satisfied smile, her narrow eyes tracing a beguiling curve as she hummed approvingly.
"That's more like it."
Saitō, meanwhile, stared at them, baffled.
Budget?
More like it?
Needless to say...
Keeping her out of Sixth Division affairs, where she'd just pretend to understand, was probably the right call.
Senjumaru rose from her seat, gesturing casually. "Follow me."
"Might as well help with an experiment."
With that, she strode toward a deeper underground entrance.
Makoto hurried after her.
From the doorway, it looked like a narrow basement corridor.
But after a single turn, the floor dropped out beneath them.
In the next moment, a vast space unfolded before their eyes.
Senjumaru landed gracefully, her skeletal hands bracing her like pillars.
Another hand steadied the stumbling Makoto.
"Hey, hey, hey!"
Saitō's lone eye widened. "There's a space this huge under here?!"
"How long did it take to dig this out?"
Saitō's awe wasn't unfounded.
In terms of sheer size, this place was practically a wasteland.
A glance revealed a radius stretching at least ten kilometers.
If dug by hand, it would've taken centuries, if not more.
But…
Makoto turned to Senjumaru.
The elegant woman chuckled lightly. "It did take a while."
"About three days or so to finish."
"So, you two better be careful not to trash the place."
"Huh?"
Saitō whipped her head toward her.
Senjumaru finally explained her intent. "To reflect the identity of Gotei 13 Shinigami, the Captain-Commander assigned me a research task some time ago."
"The development of the Shihakushō."
"Shihakushō?"
Saitō glanced down at her own clothes, puzzled. "Aren't we already wearing them?"
"They're not quite the same."
Senjumaru continued casually, "What the Captain-Commander wants is a Shihakushō that appears as soon as someone becomes a Shinigami."
"And as long as the Shinigami lives, their Shihakushō must continuously regenerate, offering a degree of protection."
"If I had to put it simply, it's about adding a little tweak to Soul Society's Reiatsu rules, I suppose?"
Adding something to the world's rules…
Makoto's eyes widened at that.
Hey, you!
Don't toss out something that insane so casually!
It clicked for him then, Ichigo in the anime receiving Rukia's shinigami power and instantly sporting a Shihakushō and Zanpakutō.
Obviously, those weren't stripped from Rukia herself.
No wonder…
So even something seemingly simple operated on a rule-based level?
With that kind of ability, it was no surprise that Senjumaru would later be chosen for the Zero Division.
"Oh... got it!"
Saitō smacked her fist into her palm, nodding sagely as if she'd actually understood.
"So what experiment do you need us for?"
Senjumaru flashed a gentle smile. "Protective and clothing regeneration tests, of course."
"And as it happens, Makoto, I've got some ideas for that reishi particle control device you mentioned."
With that, she revealed a pair of black bracelets in her hands.
Their surfaces shimmered with intricate, dense spirit seal patterns.
Makoto frowned. "What's this?"
"Gentei Reīn." Senjumaru said with a smile. "Originally designed to keep powerful Shinigami from accidentally crushing too many humans when visiting the living world." [1]
"But with their strong reishi particle suppression, they're also great for training control."
"What?!" Saitō's single eye widened. "There's stuff like that?"
"Gimme one too!"
If she had that, even a regular Vice-Captain could go toe-to-toe with her, right?
Saitō was the type to light up at anything combat-related for these battle junkies, nothing was worse than a lack of fights.
"Yes, yes."
Senjumaru agreed with utmost politeness.
Her gaze toward Saitō was like a farmer eyeing lush, ripe leeks.
Makoto, following her instructions, slipped the bracelet onto his wrist.
The next moment...
Buzz!
In that fleeting instant, Makoto felt as if his entire body had been shackled with heavy chains. His limbs and torso seemed to weigh countless times more.
But that was just the surface.
The real impact hit the once-free-flowing spirit particles within him, now sluggish and unwieldy.
In terms of Kidō...
If he could've pushed out a 70s-level spell with effort before, now, even straining himself, he'd barely scrape a mid-tier 30s or 40s.
The gap was immeasurable.
Strength, speed, and agility, all took a hit too.
Because reishi was a Shinigami's essence.
"Whoa!"
"I really got way weaker!"
Saitō donned her own bracelet, but her face lit up with delight.
This restrained, pressured sensation suited her taste perfectly!
If she stayed like this, she could revel in the thrill of combat to her heart's content, right?
"Glad you like it."
Senjumaru smiled, her skeletal hands suddenly extending. She tapped each of them on the chest.
Instantly, Makoto and Saitō noticed their Shihakushō flare up like blazing flames, wrapping around them in a black-red, flowing shroud.
But the effect came and went fast.
As the burning ceased, the black-red flames reformed into their original clothing shape.
Yet there was a subtle difference.
Makoto glanced at his sleeves and hakama, feeling the fabric hug his frame more snugly almost perfectly tailored to his body.
Clothes that auto-adjusted size?
"Hey wait a sec!"
Just as he processed this, Saitō's voice erupted beside him.
Turning, he saw her clutching her chest, her flushed face brimming with indignation. "W-Why'd the clothes here change like this?!"
Makoto who was enjoying looking at the clothes that suddenly appeared on him turned his gaze to Saitō whose face was flushed.
And there it was... Saitō's once-flat chest under loose fabric now boasted a surprisingly generous curve.
Unbelievable!
This was the power of custom-fitted clothing?!
Makoto stole a glance once, twice, three times.
Saitō, the dimwit, caught him instantly, roaring at the top of her lungs, "Idiot!"
"Stop looking over here!"
So he turned to glance at Senjumaru instead…
Still flat as ever.
Sigh.
Guess that's a lost cause.
"Makoto-kun."
Senjumaru's eyes narrowed, her smile turning dangerously sharp. "That primitive single-celled brain of yours seems to be cooking up something amusing, doesn't it?"
"Care to share it with me?"
"…"
Makoto fell silent for a long moment, then sighed. "This fabric... tsk, it's my first time wearing something so perfectly fitted."
"Really, thank you so much, Senjumaru."
"Is that so?"
Senjumaru clearly wasn't letting him off that easily, her smile growing even more menacing.
"In that case, how about helping me with the next Kidō test too?"
"Huh?!"
Makoto froze.
The next second, Senjumaru stretched out her hand toward him, still smiling sweetly.
"Hadō 88…"
"Hey, hey, hey! There's no way I can block an 80s Kidō!!"
"…Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō!"
A deafening thunderclap tore through the air, a jagged arc of lightning erupting across the wasteland-like training field.
Makoto bolted like a wild beast!
This Senjumaru... she really holds grudges!
Meanwhile, Saitō, ever sharp when she shouldn't be, zeroed in on Senjumaru's sore spot. She glanced down at her own snugly outlined chest, then at Senjumaru's utterly flat plane, vaguely grasping the vast gulf between "haves" and "have-nots."
"So… bigger is better?"
The twin-tailed girl muttered under her breath, unwittingly stabbing right into Senjumaru's tender spot.
Senjumaru whipped around, her eyes twitching as she raised a hand toward her too. "Captain Saitō, don't think you're escaping either!"
"Wha-?!"
Soon, the once-flat expanse turned into a pockmarked mess of craters.
Say what you will, but Senjumaru's Reiatsu reserves were downright monstrous.
…
By the time the two battered comrades crawled out of the training ground, their Shihakushō had mostly regenerated, but their faces were smeared with blackened soot courtesy of the Kidō blasts.
The experiment was a resounding success.
As long as a Shinigami had Reiatsu left, their Shihakushō would keep restoring itself, offering some protection.
What became of the Shinigami "protected" by it, though? That was less certain.
"Makoto! This is all your fault for staring, you idiot!"
"I got dragged into it too!"
Saitō stormed out, griping loudly, her soot-streaked face indignant.
"Huh?" Makoto shot back instantly. "I'm a gentleman through and through! You're the one who opened your mouth and pissed off Senjumaru!"
Saitō faltered, a flicker of guilt crossing her face, but she puffed out her little chest defiantly. "She attacked you first! What's that got to do with me?!"
Makoto matched her volume. "It's that cutting board of yours that started it!"
"W-What do you mean 'cutting board'?! They're plenty big, okay?!" Saitō shouted, yanking his arm. "Jerk! Moron! Baldy! Makoto!"
"Since when did my name become an insult too?!"
"I don't care! You're treating me to food today!"
"All that running's got me starving."
"Ramen sound good?" Makoto was hungry too, though he didn't treat Saitō like some dainty girl when ordering. "I hear there's a new place in District 9 that tastes great with huge meat portions."
"Super affordable too."
"Oh! Let's go there!!"
Good thing Saitō wasn't your typical girl.
Watching her perk up so easily with that noisy cheer, Makoto couldn't help but relax a bit.
Though the Hueco Mundo expedition was set, prepping logistics and personnel would still take time.
A year or two at the longest, a few months at the shortest.
Even as Shinigami, they couldn't pull off a massive expedition for tens of thousands in three days.
Makoto needed to make good use of this window.
Before long after what felt like mere moments of bickering with Saitō, they arrived.
Makoto stepped ahead, lifting the curtain with familiarity and calling out, "Four extra-large ramen bowls!"
"Chashu tonkotsu, full toppings!"
"Ossu!"
It wasn't quitting time for the Gotei 13 yet, so most Shinigami were still busy. The shop felt a bit empty, with only two or three patrons scattered about.
Those few, noticing Makoto and Saitō's attire, quickly shuffled out, avoiding eye contact entirely.
Soon, massive ramen bowls hit the counter.
"I'm lock in right now!"
Makoto wasn't one for manners when famished, he ate faster than a starved ghost.
His slurping echoed loudly.
Surprisingly, Saitō beside him seemed a touch quieter than usual, gently blowing on the steaming broth and nibbling the hot noodles in small bites.
Probably a bit of a cat tongue.
She brushed one of her dangling twin tails aside with her hand, revealing a glimpse of her pale neck from the side.
Her face, though, was smudged with soot, and with that black eyepatch, she looked rather fierce.
This version of Saitō was pretty rare.
Makoto mused to himself.
Maybe she noticed his stare, or maybe it was just the sudden halt in his slurping, but Saitō turned to him. Her left cheek bulged with noodles, and she spoke in that usual cheeky tone.
"What're you looking at?"
"Nothing." Makoto replied, familiar enough with her to grin carelessly. "Just thought you're kinda cute when you eat, Saitō-chan."
"Huh?"
Saitō swallowed her noodles, flashing her signature wicked smirk. Her tongue darted out, licking broth from the corner of her mouth as she drawled lazily, "You've got some guts saying that, huh."
"To a cold-blooded killer like me, no less?"
Makoto watched her stick out that little tongue, and with some miswired impulse kicking in, he reached out and grabbed it.
[Yank your little tongue, Saitō-chan!]
His zanpakuto chimed in his head, obnoxiously chipper.
Saitō's expression froze, her pretty face flushing bright red.
The next second, her small mouth clamped down hard on his finger.
Makoto yanked his hand back, wincing in pain.
Before he could react further, Saitō's roar erupted.
"Ma! Ko! TOOOO!"
"Boss, put it on my tab!"
Makoto's voice came out in a near-shriek as he bolted, turning tail.
Saitō's figure vanished in a flash.
Moments later, the street outside rang with the clatter and clang of a thorough thrashing.
In this single short day, Makoto had somehow managed to take two beatings.
What a disaster…
---
[1] Spiritual Limiter: All Shinigami captains and lieutenants have their spiritual energy reduced by about 80% when they enter the Human World by use of a spiritual limit, represented by a seal called the Gentei Reīn (Spirit Restriction Seal), which resembles the symbol unique to their Division, in order not to cause unnecessarily high damage while there. In extreme cases, where their full power is needed, they can request a limit release. The command to release the seal is Gentei Kaijo (Restriction Removal).
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Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
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