Bleach: The Fifth Division Captain

"Wonderful."

Aizen's voice, usually calm and composed, was laced with genuine excitement as he gazed at the Hōgyoku in his hand.

The previously dormant crystal was now vibrating intensely, pulsing with raw energy.

"The Hōgyoku's reaction is stronger than I anticipated. It seems we've taken another step toward our goal. Seiya, Tōsen—this is truly a day worth celebrating."

Aizen's visible excitement contrasted sharply with his usual calm demeanor.

Tōsen, ever loyal, bowed his head respectfully and offered polite congratulations.

But Seiya remained silent.

His gaze was fixed elsewhere—on the figure lying on the ground.

A woman with shoulder-length orange hair lay curled up on her side, her chest rising and falling with shallow, labored breaths.

Her pale green kimono was torn and bloodied, and her lips parted slightly as though gasping for air.

Matsumoto Rangiku.

However, the woman before Seiya was far from the bold, voluptuous figure described in the original timeline.

She looked more… ordinary. Just a pale, delicate woman struggling to stay conscious.

Perhaps it's because she hasn't yet "grown into" her iconic appearance.

Seiya frowned slightly. Regardless, he wasn't particularly interested in characters who relied on their looks.

Besides, he had no intention of interfering in fated relationships like the one between Rangiku and Gin Ichimaru.

Those bonds—like Yoruichi's connection to Urahara or Rangiku's bond with Gin—were things Seiya respected.

Seiya glanced at the Hōgyoku, now bubbling and surging with spiritual energy in Aizen's hand.

He couldn't help but feel that everything was progressing too smoothly.

His mind drifted to a key piece of knowledge he'd picked up from old forum discussions and fan theories:

Rangiku carried a fragment of the Soul King's essence within her.

"Even her fingertips contain priceless power… The Soul King really is a walking treasure trove."

Seiya sighed softly, turning his attention back to Rangiku.

Although part of her soul had been forcibly extracted, she wasn't in immediate danger of dying.

However…

Leaving her here would be reckless.

The streets of Rukongai were far from safe at night. Wandering Hollows and opportunistic thugs could easily finish what Aizen had started.

But then Seiya noticed someone lurking nearby.

A young boy stood at a distance, peering anxiously around the corner of a building.

His short lavender hair and frail, skinny frame gave him the appearance of a child who'd long been deprived of proper meals.

Despite the boy's attempts to remain hidden, his presence was obvious to Seiya.

The boy wasn't doing a great job of masking his presence, either—there was a faint, lingering hostility in the air, sharp and venomous like a coiled snake.

Seiya recognized that aura immediately.

Ichimaru Gin.

His expression softened with recognition.

"He's just a kid… No wonder he looks so malnourished."

But even in his current state, Gin's gaze was razor-sharp. His eyes flicked from Rangiku to Aizen and the others, burning with restrained fury.

It was clear: he wasn't going to forget this.

Tōsen shifted slightly.

His keen senses had already picked up on Gin's presence. His hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, his posture tense.

Seiya's eyes narrowed.

Wait, is he seriously about to attack?

There was no way Gin could survive a fight against Tōsen at this point.

Seiya took a quick step forward and pressed down on Tōsen's sword hand, stopping him from drawing his blade.

"…?"

Tōsen tilted his head slightly, silently questioning Seiya's actions.

Seiya pressed down a little harder, signaling his intent.

Sheathe your sword, brother.

Aizen's voice broke the silence.

"Seiya, Tōsen—let's go."

Aizen's tone was light and unconcerned. He carefully tucked the Hōgyoku back into his robes and began walking away without a second glance at Rangiku.

The lingering hatred of a mere ant meant nothing to him.

Tōsen stood still for a moment, his hand twitching near his sword. Finally, he relaxed and patted Seiya's shoulder gently.

"…It seems you understand Aizen-sama better than I do."

Seiya blinked, momentarily stunned by the compliment.

Wait, how did that get turned into praise?

Still, there was no point dwelling on it. Seiya shook his head, watching as Aizen led the group away.

Just as he turned to follow, he hesitated.

He wasn't worried about Gin retaliating or trying to seek vengeance right now.

If anything, Gin's presence was an asset. He was destined to become a valuable ally—one with a keen mind and hidden motives.

But…

Seiya crouched down beside Rangiku and pulled out a small cloth pouch from his robe.

Without a word, he set the pouch down next to her.

Rangiku's dazed, confused eyes met his.

Seiya gave her a faint, apologetic smile.

"Consider this… an apology."

With that, he stood up and hurried to catch up with Aizen and Tōsen.

Once the trio had disappeared from sight, Gin rushed to Rangiku's side.

"Rangiku! Are you alright?!"

His trembling hands hovered over her, checking her pulse and breathing. Finally, he let out a relieved sigh.

She was alive.

Barely conscious, Rangiku opened her eyes. Her lips curled into a faint smile as she looked up at him.

"…Gin."

Gin clenched his fists tightly, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line.

His expression mirrored that of his Zanpakutō—Shinsō.

A weapon that extended and retracted with lethal precision, hiding its deadliness beneath an unassuming appearance.

In this moment, Gin's resolve hardened.

He needed power.

Enough power to protect Rangiku.

Enough power to take back what was stolen from her.

He noticed the cloth pouch beside Rangiku and opened it carefully.

Inside, he found a handful of silver coins—Seireitei's currency, known as "Kan".

Half a pouch full.

This wasn't just money.

In the poverty-stricken streets of Rukongai, Kan was more valuable than gold. It could be used to buy food, medicine, and even protection.

Rangiku's weakened fingers brushed against the pouch.

"Take it… Gin."

Despite his pride, Gin obeyed. He tucked the pouch into his robes, his gaze never leaving the path where Seiya and the others had disappeared.

His silver eyes narrowed.

Who was that man?

What was he thinking?

The questions lingered in Gin's mind as he tightened his grip on the pouch, his resolve solidifying like tempered steel.

Someday, I'll get stronger.

And when that day comes—

I'll take back everything that was stolen from us.