"Oh my, this shop has been open for a hundred years. How amazing."
"I remember this place used to sell musical instruments. When did they switch to noodle soup? They have no taste at all..."
"Tch, why don't we see anyone wearing biker gang outfits anymore? Has the trend changed?"
While Asuka and the God of the Sword were researching the origins of Kakudatsu.
Shinji Hirako and the rest of the Visoreds were acting like prisoners fresh out of jail, curious about everything along the streets of the Rukongai as they noisily made their way toward the Shiba family estate.
Finally, they arrived in front of Kukaku Shiba's extravagantly designed residence, which was held up by two giant stone arms.
"Kukaku! Big brother is back! And I brought guests!"
Kaien carelessly pushed open the main doors, familiarly crossing the front courtyard and stepping into the spacious main hall.
As soon as they stepped inside, the sight before them left Shinji and the others stunned.
The atmosphere in the Shiba household wasn't as desolate as they had imagined.
On the contrary, an exceptionally fierce battle was taking place.
A square mahjong table sat right in the center. Four people were gathered around it, the clattering of mahjong tiles filling the air in an incredibly heated atmosphere.
"Pon! Haha, I've been waiting for this tile for a long time!"
Sitting in the host's seat was Kukaku Shiba, dressed in her usual revealing attire with a prosthetic right arm.
She had a smoking pipe dangling from her lips and slammed a tile onto the table with a bold, wild laugh.
Sitting across from her was Ichigo Kurosaki, sporting his bright orange hair and several layers of bandages wrapped around his head.
He was staring intently at his hand, his brow furrowed so tightly it could crush a fly, clearly locked in a bitter struggle.
"Damn it... why can't I ever draw the tiles I want..." Ichigo muttered through gritted teeth.
Uryu Ishida, sitting on the left, looked completely unfazed.
He pushed up his gleaming glasses, his sharp gaze sweeping across the discard pool as he muttered complex probability calculations.
"Based on the tiles already played and the discard habits of you three, the probability of the Three of Characters I need remaining in the wall is exactly seven point five percent."
"And Ichigo, that Eight of Dots you just discarded completely exposed your intention to build a Half Flush. That is truly an incredibly foolish tactical choice..."
"Shut up, Uryu! Who calculates probabilities while playing mahjong?! Do you even know how to play?!" Ichigo was on the verge of losing his mind from the constant nagging.
Meanwhile, Orihime Inoue, sitting on the right, wore a look of innocent bewilderment.
"Um... is it time for me to say that phrase again?"
Orihime scratched her head sheepishly, then carefully pushed all her tiles down to reveal her hand.
"Tsumo! Four Concealed Triplets, Yakuman..."
"What?!! You drew it yourself again?!"
Ichigo and Kukaku let out despairing screams at the exact same time.
"Orihime, this is your fifth consecutive self-draw! What is going on with your luck?!" Ichigo wailed, clutching his head.
A white glint flashed across Uryu's glasses, his mouth twitching slightly. "This defies probability... This absolutely defies probability..."
Little did they know, such was the way of mahjong.
Even a player who had reached the absolute pinnacle using scientific tile counting...
Could never defeat a luck-based monster whose fortune surged like a tsunami.
Watching this lively, domestic scene, Shinji Hirako and the others—who had just walked out of a meeting that determined the life and death of the Soul Society—stood petrified at the doorway.
"Y-You guys are still playing?" Kaien asked, dumbfounded.
These guys had been battling it out since after dinner last night. He hadn't expected them to still be at it.
They were way too addicted.
Hearing the commotion at the door, the four people at the mahjong table turned their heads in unison.
"Yo! Big brother Kaien, you're back!" Kukaku exhaled a ring of smoke, waving her hand without a care for her image.
"What time is it outside? These brats are actually pretty good! You want to play a round?"
"Who wants to play that?!" Kaien didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I brought important guests!"
He stepped aside, allowing Kisuke Urahara, Shinji Hirako, and the others to enter.
The moment Ichigo saw Kisuke Urahara, he jumped up from his chair.
"Hat-and-Clogs! Why are you here?!"
Kisuke snapped his folding fan open, replying with a cheerful smile. "My, my, Ichigo. You caused quite a stir at Sokyoku Hill, and the entire Seireitei is currently a chaotic mess..."
"As the former Director of the Department of Research and Development, I naturally had to take advantage of the chaos... ah, I mean, I was invited back to help stabilize the situation."
"And while I was at it, I safely escorted Mr. Hirako and the others over."
Ichigo eyed the people behind Kisuke suspiciously, unsure if he was telling the truth.
"But what about you all? You've been staying here for days. Don't you need to go back to school for remedial classes?" Kisuke asked with a chuckle.
"That was my idea," Kaien explained. "No matter how you look at it, trespassing into the Seireitei without permission and injuring so many Soul Reapers means the title of Ryoka isn't something that can be easily brushed off."
"Until the higher-ups decide how to handle them, it's relatively safer for them to stay here."
As Kaien spoke, Kukaku suddenly grinned and reached out, slapping Ichigo hard on the shoulder.
The force was so great it nearly sent Ichigo stumbling. "Besides, since you're Uncle Isshin's son, you count as part of the Shiba family too. This is the perfect opportunity for everyone to bond!"
Ichigo rubbed his shoulder, grumbling, "What bonding... You just dragged us into playing mahjong with you for a whole day and night. I'm getting dark circles under my eyes!"
From the back of the group, Yoruichi Shihoin burst into loud laughter, casually strolling into the room.
As Kukaku's close friend, this wasn't her first time here; she was already very familiar with the place.
She scanned the somewhat messy hall and was surprised to find that, away from the heated mahjong game, a familiar figure was sitting on the other side of the room.
On the tatami mats by the window, a man with a scruffy beard, wearing an old button-up shirt from the World of the Living, was sitting cross-legged with zero posture.
He was holding an outdated special women's issue of the Seireitei Communication from who-knows-where, reading it with great relish while occasionally letting out a creepy, goofy chuckle.
Not far from him on the rug, two cute little girls wearing short-sleeved shirts and shorts from the World of the Living were sitting around Rukia Kuchiki, who had changed into a comfortable, casual kimono.
The three of them were enthusiastically playing with a red loop of yarn, engaged in a game of cat's cradle.
"Rukia, you're so amazing! I can never figure out how to make this Tokyo Tower shape!" Yuzu stared at Rukia's nimble fingers with sparkling eyes.
"Tch, what's so hard about that? You just need to practice a few more times." Although Karin sounded tough, her eyes were glued to Rukia's movements, clearly full of curiosity as well.
Rukia smiled triumphantly. "Hahaha, you two defeated challengers, sincerely seek my guidance!"
"Watch closely. First, loop the string around your pinky, then cross it like this..."
Seeing Isshin there, Yoruichi looked at Kaien in surprise. "What's going on? Why is the quack doctor here too?"
Before Kaien could answer, a cold, glamorous female voice rang out from behind them.
"He's here because I dragged him back by force, of course!"
A tall, voluptuous figure with long, wavy blonde hair stepped into the room as she spoke.
It was the Vice Captain of the Tenth Division, Rangiku Matsumoto.
And standing right in front of Rangiku was a silver-haired boy wearing the captain's haori of the Tenth Division.
Toshiro Hitsugaya.
His expression was incredibly dark as he glared furiously at Isshin Kurosaki on the tatami mats.
"...It's certainly been a long time, Captain."
With that icy greeting, the previously noisy Shiba family hall instantly fell dead silent.
Not only did the group at the mahjong table stop what they were doing, but even Rukia, who had been playing cat's cradle with Yuzu and Karin, darted her gaze back and forth between Toshiro and Isshin.
It sounded like someone was about to be in a lot of trouble.
"Gulp..."
Isshin Kurosaki shuddered violently, and the magazine featuring scantily clad female Soul Reapers on the cover slipped from his hands onto the tatami.
Upon clearly seeing the silver-haired boy standing by the door, the sleazy smile on his face collapsed at a visible rate.
"Y-Yo, if it isn't Toshiro..."
Isshin swallowed hard, forcing an ugly smile onto his face.
He raised his hand and waved stiffly, like an elementary school student caught doing something wrong.
"Well... long time no see. You... you've grown quite a bit taller, hahaha..."
"It's Captain Hitsugaya." Toshiro's eyes grew even colder as he stepped into the hall.
With every step he took, the surrounding air seemed to condense into a thin layer of frost from the sheer fluctuation of his emotions.
"And I haven't grown a single bit over these years."
"Save your insincere pleasantries, Captain."