Who was the "Soul King"?
Before the Soul Society was created by his magnificence, what did the world look like?
It was a question that had come to the minds of many of those living in the Soul Society at least once. Even residents of the Rukongai, who did not have the word Soul King in their vocabulary, wondered what kind of person ruled over the Soul Society.
Excepting those who had to put their every effort into simply surviving day to day, most had probably wondered what great presence ruled over the Soul Society and the world of the living.
Along with their surprise that an afterworld actually existed, many of those who came to live in the Rukongai from the world of the living were curious to know who ruled over the Soul Reapers, who proclaimed themselves to be "gods of death." Yet they, much less the Soul Reaper "gods" themselves, for the most part had no idea what the "Soul King" was.
In practice, most accepted the Soul King as a nebulous symbol of the world and an absolute presence.
≡
The aristocracy was no exception. In the past, a certain boy from the nobility asked his father this:
"What is the Soul King?"
The father looked down upon the boy as he answered.
"The Soul King is, in practical terms, the linchpin of the world, the cornerstone that controls the universal flow of konpaku. If the Soul King were to disappear, the three worlds—the Soul Society, the world of the living, and Hueco Mundo—would likely crumble immediately."
"In that case, what was the world like in the time before the linchpin was established?"
After asking that, the boy was harshly scolded by his father.
"That time, or any history prior to the Soul King's birth, did not exist," he said.
"Even considering such a thing is not allowed," the father reiterated, his face pale.
It was the obligation of those with wisdom, words, and power—in other words, the "Soul Reapers"—to be thankful for and constantly revere the Soul King for endlessly existing as the world's absolute pinnacle.
The boy pretended to accept that answer. Even in his youth, the boy's instinct told him that adults spoke in lies. Among the Five Great Noble Clans, the Tsunayashiros were confident that they held particular power. Though he was a member of that clan, the boy looked down upon his own family.
He looked down on his own family as it continued to indulge in pretentious luxury and as it frivolously squandered a history built up through time and complacency. They were evil—simply despicable.
As he forced himself to temper the flames that smoldered within his heart, the boy continued to quietly bide his time.
≡
Many moons passed. A crude laugh slipped from the mouth of the man who had once been that boy,
"Ha ha."
In the Tsunayashiros' innermost library, which was a secret among secrets, this man who had just solved a cipher text carved into a stone monument, felt certain.
"Can…can this really be?! It is just as I imagined. No, it's even more than I imagined!"
His family truly was made up of hopeless villains who were not even worth despising.
"We record the crimes of our ancestors here."
After he had read the totality of the cipher text that began with that preamble, he sliced it apart with his own zanpakuto.
"Guh ha ha ha…ha ha ha ha ha! I see… These are the dark innards of the Soul Society—and of the Tsunayashiro family!"
After he had laughed for some time, the man said to himself, "I never would have thought they would leave behind a monument like this. Was it so they would not forget their own sin? No, they likely left it behind as some sort of threat to the other clans. Oh, yes! It is exactly as I expected! It's proof that the world works just the way I had guessed!"
The world was rotten, just as he had suspected, and it was even less salvageable than anyone could have imagined. With that truth before him, the man who had continued to foster the sentiments of his boyhood was so incredibly pleased that he just couldn't help it.
Then, he was thankful for the world. He was thankful for the million-year-old history of the Soul Society. He was thankful for the Tsunayashiro family that had sustained the petty evil of their bloodline.
They had done well creating a world filled with deceit. He turned theatrically to face the ceiling of the library and allowed his mouth to contort into a smile full of all-encompassing gratitude and affection.
"This is truly amazing! Yes, I am grateful! I am grateful for my distant ancestor's sin! Because they hid it, I am able to dedicate my joy to the great malice that has been left unpurified for a million years!"
After the man had laughed for some time, thinking of what he could do because of that, he resolved himself.
If the world is duplicitous, then I should be duplicitous as well.
The Tsunayashiro family, which exists for nothing more than the sake of being despicable, ends here.
What meaning is there in an evil that exists only to be looked down upon and despised? It was all a fraud.
What am I to do if I am unable to go along with the lie?
Ahh, I will sing to the tune of my passions as my heart desires.
I may be destroyed by the Quincies, squashed by the Hollows, or sabotaged by my own hubris.
If the final days of the Soul Society are upon us, then I vow to bring about evil until that day.
There will be no necessary evils. My malice will be entirely needless as I laugh at this world!
What a joyous day!
The Soul Society's history has validated that my malice is just!
The man, his soul etched in this way, left the hidden archives behind, his smile transforming into something wicked.
The events of the day had given the man a modest goal. That was all that had occurred.
The man had simply reaffirmed himself, nothing more. Though he did not know whether he had been born with them, he had decided that all those things within him—his appetite, his malice, his sadism—were sanctioned.
No trigger or tragedy had turned the man evil. He would tyrannize others entirely of his own volition and indulge extravagantly in it.
Nothing whatsoever had changed in the man in the moment he had seen the Soul Society's sealed past.
There hadn't been the slightest murkiness about Tokinada Tsunayashiro's true nature. His true self hadn't changed—he had simply been given different options.
Had he not seen the writing etched in stone, he might have gone through his life as a high-ranking noble who devoted himself to injustices of ambition and hubris of the furthest extremes.
But now he had a goal, a goal to satisfy his desires to the maximum extent possible—and a playground in which to set his malice free.
Thus it could be said that on this day the world had changed—a momentous change in the direction of vile evil that profited no one.
Then time flowed onward.
≡
CURRENT DAY,
KARAKURA TOWN
Just after everything had been swept into this strange maelstrom, but when it was yet much too late to do anything over, a single Soul Reaper cast himself into the center of that malice.
This was a Soul Reaper who was far flung from the aristocracy, with origins in the Rukongai.
Nevertheless, this man, who came to work as the assistant captain of the Ninth Company—an important office even within the Thirteen Court Guard Companies—after building himself up through training and hundreds of battles, was attempting to step into the Soul Society's karmic fate that had continued uninterrupted for a million years.
Whether he realized he was involving himself in a grand plot that encompassed all three worlds or not, that very Soul Reaper flinched, wide-eyed, at the relic of history that had appeared before his eyes.
"Are you serious, Mr. Urahara? Is this actually from the legendary Galmuna Ecstasy…?"
"Yeah, isn't it a beauty? I was reminded of it when Mr. Sado mentioned that you were interested in it, so I did what I could to get my hands on it."
"I never could have imagined I'd be able to hold it in my own hands like this… Is it the real deal?" the man with a giant scar running down his face inquired, cradling an electric guitar that was white and brick red in color.
Facing him was a man wearing a cloth hat, who pointed at the guitar with the tip of his cane as he nonchalantly replied,
"Yes, that's a replica of a replica of a replica, but that just means it's gone full circle and has its own unique charm. In other words, it's a genuine, bona-fide reproduction."
"Doesn't that just mean it's a plain old replica?!"
"Now that's just amateur thinking!"
"Huh?"
The man with the hat turned a serious gaze upon his bewildered companion as he emphatically explained.
"It just means that many artisans have given the original prototype a tune-up. That guitar is a mirror reflecting many souls. It's a replica that's surpassed mere imitation. Occasionally this process births something original onto itself that transcends even the genuine article. Through human workmanship, the legend reaches the promised land. Can't you feel those vibes just oozing out of it?"
"I-I see…"
"Just take a look at the way it shines even thirty whole years after the legend! Look at these marks scratched on the back that prove the event! Doesn't it seem fresh—like it all happened just yesterday? An original simply wouldn't compare to this! The whole reason it's such a once-in-a-lifetime marvel is because it's fresh off the line!"
[Img]
Well, when you put it that way…"
As the other man once again began to inspect the guitar, the man in the hat attempted to forge ahead with his business deal, pouncing on the opportune moment.
"What do you think? How about I give you a discount right now and set the price to just three months' worth of your salary?"
"Isn't that kind of pricey?!"
"That's because I crafted this with my own two hands. I have to figure that labor into the price. This guitar can even function as a zanpaku-to sheath."
"So it's got a practical use? Well… But…"
The man's name was Shuhei Hisagi.
He was the Ninth Company's assistant captain as well as editor-in-chief of the Seireitei Bulletin.
The man, who was a Soul Reaper and a journalist, was most certainly approaching an "answer," as well as the center of a sinister malevolence, though he himself had yet to realize that fact.
After faltering for some time, he murmured a response with a determined look in his eyes.
"Would you also…issue me a loan?"
A girl and a boy of around middle school age were watching him from a distance with expressions filled more with pity than exasperation as they muttered,
"C'mon, that guy's getting ripped off again."
"He's such a good customer…"