Bleach: Stirring Up a Storm

From the movement trajectories of Ichimaru Gin and Tōsen Kaname, it was possible to deduce a portion of Aizen’s actions, but it was merely a deduction.

The reasons were twofold. First, captains naturally executed a wide variety of missions. Without attending the captain’s meetings, it was difficult to ascertain whether their absence was a coincidence or deliberate.

Second, with Aizen involved, the three of them could essentially choose any point in time to head to Hueco Mundo. They didn’t even need to fabricate an excuse to leave the Seireitei beforehand.

Based on these factors, if Kōe really wanted to deduce their movements, he could find ten thousand different angles to overthink it—until he exhausted himself to death.

Having lived two lives, why make things so difficult for himself? Why not inflict this pain upon his opponent and let Aizen be the one to guess and suffer headaches?

Operating on this principle, Kōe would occasionally blurt out a few baffling remarks. Things like, ”Captain Aizen’s Zanpakutō must be really useful in Hueco Mundo,” or, like just now, ”Is there something different about you?”

In reality, how could Kōe possibly tell if Aizen was any different from the last time they met? It was just a bluff. If he managed to bait out a reaction, it was a massive win; if not, he didn’t lose anything.

But right now, the problem didn’t seem to be whether the bluff worked, but rather...

Faced with Kōe’s probing, Aizen acted as if he couldn’t hear the underlying meaning. With a polite smile, he replied, ”You said the exact same thing last time, Mr. Shihouin.”

”Did I?” Called out like that, Kōe felt a bit embarrassed. He patted the back of his head and let out an awkward laugh. ”Then it must be compared to the time *before* last time. There’s definitely something different about you, hahaha.”

”You gave that exact same answer last time as well, Mr. Shihouin.”

”...”

Using the exact same method to probe someone three times—only Shihouin Kōe would engage in such playful, almost childish behavior. At this very moment, Aizen, who was currently in Hueco Mundo, suddenly had a thought: *Surely the Shin’ō Academy isn’t hosting a fourth ’something is different’ conversation right now?*

One could only say he still underestimated Kōe’s persistence—or perhaps, his childishness? In Aizen’s eyes, Kōe spouting such nonsense held no meaning other than to signal that he had been in contact with Urahara Kisuke and Hirako Shinji.

Was this a declaration of war, or just a child throwing a tantrum? Aizen didn’t believe Kōe actually thought he could dismantle his disguise through such a simplistic method. And of course, a laughable reason like a ’declaration of war’ was even more impossible.

Shihouin Kōe was an interesting man, shrouded in mystery. Aizen had never changed this assessment. In fact, with their continuous interactions, the fog surrounding him had only grown thicker, even after just five encounters in a single month.

He seemed to have known long ago that Aizen would come to Hueco Mundo, and subtly hinted at knowing the results Aizen sought to achieve through the Shinigamification of Hollows. Were these conclusions drawn from existing intelligence?

Perhaps. After all, the incident involving Abarai Renji and the other students in the World of the Living a year ago was documented in the Seireitei’s intelligence records. It wouldn’t be difficult to acquire that information.

But that was the *only* piece of intelligence. Could he perfectly predict Aizen’s actions based on such a minuscule clue? His timing was so closely aligned with Aizen’s plans that it gave Aizen the illusion the man had witnessed it all with his own eyes.

A wise sage witnessing the future? Or an observer standing atop a solitary peak? Of course, it was also possible that Aizen was simply overthinking it, and those words were nothing more than Kōe’s nonsensical rambling, devoid of any purpose.

Aizen couldn’t arrive at an absolutely certain answer. He could only try to reconstruct Kōe’s true intentions, operating under the assumption that the man wasn’t a completely irrational lunatic. To get the complete answer, there was no other way but for Kōe to speak it himself.

But even if he spoke it, would it be trustworthy? Playing by the rules was a concept far too distant for people like them. Just like right now—coming to Hueco Mundo alongside Ichimaru Gin and Tōsen Kaname was a risky move.

Regarding this, Ichimaru Gin perhaps felt it the most profoundly. The figure walking ahead of him looked no different from usual—still composed, methodical, holding everything in the palm of his hand. But in reality, that wasn’t the case.

This all came down to the matter of coming to Hueco Mundo. According to the original plan, the three of them were supposed to come to Hueco Mundo one month after Gin assumed his position as captain, dedicating all their efforts to transforming Hueco Mundo into their own backyard in the short term. That was exactly what was happening right now.

But it had to be noted, this was the *original* plan. At that time, Shihouin Kōe had not yet returned to the Seireitei.

The formulation and execution of a plan had to adapt to reality. Especially when faced with major variables, it was highly likely to be completely scrapped and rewritten.

The initial plan was formulated around the Seireitei’s existing twelve captains and fourteen lieutenants. With Kōe’s interference, corresponding adjustments definitely had to be made. Moreover, given Aizen’s personality, scrapping the original plan entirely wasn’t out of the question. After all, Shihouin Kōe was no simple character; he was incredibly difficult to deal with.

It was already confirmed that he had contact with Urahara Kisuke and the others. His return to the Seireitei was specifically to keep an eye on Aizen’s group. Furthermore, Aizen’s most advantageous trump card—Kyōka Suigetsu—had a history of being broken.

Possessing the ability to break Kyōka Suigetsu meant that Kōe wouldn’t be absolutely hindered in gathering intelligence. He could oppose Aizen within the Seireitei on relatively equal footing.

And having had contact with Urahara Kisuke proved that Kōe possessed a certain level of understanding regarding Aizen, Gin, and Tōsen, which saved him a lot of effort.

Truth be told, Ichimaru Gin didn’t feel their side held any absolute advantage when facing Kōe. In fact, they might be the ones at a disadvantage. After all, they knew far too little about the man known as Shihouin Kōe.

Facing such an external, latent threat, proceeding with the original plan felt somewhat reckless. This completely contradicted the Aizen that Gin knew.

This wasn’t merely Gin’s unilateral speculation. In fact, Aizen had expressed the intention to alter the plan. Right after his first encounter with Kōe, he frankly admitted that the Hueco Mundo project should be postponed.

Gathering and filtering intelligence required time, and formulating a plan based on that foundation was even more mentally taxing and time-consuming. It was remarkably similar to playing chess—a process of mutually setting traps and countering moves, rather than unilaterally analyzing the opponent or launching an attack centered solely on one’s own ideas.

This was Aizen’s consistent style. His unimpeded access throughout the Seireitei and the Soul Society was the result of a layout that began a century ago. He was more outstanding than anyone else, and he could endure more than anyone else.

If the Aizen of the past was a chess player, then his current behavior was like that of a gambler. Especially considering he had the awareness to adjust the plan, yet ultimately proceeded with the original one anyway. He was acting like a gambler putting all his chips on a single throw. ’Madness’ was the only compliment that could be given.

But an adjective like ’madness’ felt far too distant from Aizen. Could it be that the intelligence gathering was already complete? And Aizen had simply hidden this fact from him and Tōsen?

Gin thought about it and felt something wasn’t right. Although Aizen was a suspicious person, he wouldn’t manifest that suspicion by overly guarding against the people closest to him. He had enough trump cards to deal with any betrayal that might arise at any moment.

Besides, even if he had lost his previous confidence, wouldn’t acting this way be exposing a weakness? Wouldn’t it be admitting on some level that he was inferior to Shihouin Kōe, thereby attempting to win over their loyalty?

The problem was that Aizen had absolutely no need to do so. Compared to the loyalty of his subordinates, the path beneath his own feet was far more crucial. Even if he were to admit inferiority to someone, he wouldn’t do it in such a convoluted, hesitant manner.

So, what exactly was the reason behind this unprompted change?