Aizen Sosuke sat alone at his desk. Moonlight filtered through the paper windows, casting a cold gleam across his glasses.
His fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk, producing a steady, soft clicking sound.
"Hasumi Ren..."
He murmured the name lowly.
The conversation from the training grounds earlier that afternoon replayed clearly in his mind.
The white-haired boy's flawless expression, his subtle movements, and his cautious answers.
'His spiritual power is controlled at around the twelfth level, but there were slight fluctuations. It is hard to tell if he is hiding it on purpose.'
'His incantation for Shakkaho was precise, but the spiritual pressure output was somewhat lacking. It seems he intentionally lowered its power.'
'When faced with a lieutenant's invitation, his delight was followed by a hesitant refusal. It is possible his heart is set on another squad, but it felt a bit forced.'
Aizen picked up his teacup and took a light sip.
"What are you hiding, Student Hasumi?"
He stood and walked to the window, looking out toward the Shin'o Academy.
Aizen's thoughts drifted back many years.
Back then, he was just an ordinary member of Squad 5.
He was exceptionally talented but never flaunted it.
Every mission was completed just well enough—never poor enough to draw complaints, yet never good enough to attract attention.
He had carefully controlled his performance, like a spider lurking in the shadows, quietly weaving its web.
Until he mastered Kyoka Suigetsu.
Until he discovered the secrets of the Hogyoku.
"He is quite like me, come to think of it," Aizen whispered to himself, his eyes deep.
"Hide, observe, and react appropriately at the right moment."
"I wonder just how deep your capacity truly goes."
Aizen returned to his desk and flipped to another page of the report.
It contained all of Hasumi Ren's grades from his five years at the academy.
His historical performance in Zankensoki and his grades in theoretical classes were all listed in detail.
Overall evaluation: Lower-middle tier of the elite class, with potential for steady progress.
Aizen gave a light chuckle.
He recalled their encounter in the valley of West District Two a few days ago.
Did he truly not notice us then?
Aizen had always harbored doubts.
If he did notice, how did he do it?
'Is he unusually sensitive to the spiritual fluctuations of Kido? No, that doesn't seem right... Could he have sensed the power of the Hogyoku?'
Aizen pushed up his glasses, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes behind the lenses.
Either way, it was worth further observation.
And observation required a closer distance.
More importantly, it required a small test.
The moonlight shifted, illuminating his calm profile.
His expression remained as gentle as ever.
Yet it carried a hint of amusement.
The Director of the Shin'o Academy was concurrently the 3rd Seat of Squad 5, so as the Lieutenant of Squad 5, reviewing the academy's arrangements was an easy task for Aizen.
He pulled out the academy's schedule for the current semester.
"Soul Burial Field Trip to the Living World. Fifth-year elite class. Three weeks from now."
The Living World—a place where the appearance of Hollows was unpredictable—was the perfect setting to arrange an accident.
Aizen took up his pen and began writing something on a note.
With a creak, the office door was pushed open.
Aizen inconspicuously set the note aside. When he looked up at the newcomer, his face was already wearing that gentle smile.
"Captain Hirako, haven't you retired for the night yet?"
Hirako Shinji leaned against the doorframe, his long blond hair shimmering coldly in the moonlight.
He tilted his head, studying Aizen with that characteristic look—vaguely lazy yet sharp.
"You aren't sleeping either, Lieutenant Aizen," Hirako drawled as he strolled in.
"What kind of paperwork is keeping our Dragon of Paperwork working so hard through the night? Do you need a hand?"
He walked to the desk, picking up the file regarding the Shin'o Academy's current schedule and flipping through it.
"Just some routine arrangements for the academy's field trips, Captain Hirako," Aizen said with a smile.
"I wouldn't want to trouble you with such trivial matters."
Hirako scanned it once; indeed, nothing seemed amiss.
His eyes flickered as he placed the document back on the desk, but he acted as though he hadn't seen the conspicuous note lying to the side.
Just like Kyoka Suigetsu.
Hirako pulled his hand back, tucking it into the sleeve of his shihakusho.
"Trivial? There are no trivial matters when it involves student safety."
He snorted.
"Besides, both the Rukongai and the Living World have been unsettled lately. The number of unexplained soul disappearances is on the rise. I wonder if those incompetent fools in Squad 10, who are responsible for patrols, are actually doing their jobs."
He circled halfway around the desk before stopping directly in front of Aizen. He leaned down, his perpetually squinted eyes now fully open as he stared straight at Aizen.
"I heard there was a massive fire in West Rukongai's Second District. Squad 12 sent people to investigate and found abnormal spiritual pressure fluctuations. Too bad they couldn't figure out who did it."
Aizen's brow furrowed, his expression turning solemn.
"That is indeed unfortunate. Perhaps a Soul Reaper was practicing Kido in private and caused an accident."
"Maybe."
Hirako straightened up, his tone remaining neutral.
"Speaking of which, cases of Hollows attacking Soul Reapers and Rukongai souls have increased significantly. The strange part is that our support squads always seem to receive the news a bit late."
"That is indeed a failure on our part. The Head Captain even called me in specifically to give me a scolding. Why do you think that is, Aizen...?"
"My apologies, Captain Hirako. I will do my best to investigate where the breakdown in communication is occurring. This will not happen again."
A brief silence fell between them. The air in the office seemed to freeze, with only the ticking of the clock on the wall marking the time.
Hirako stared at Aizen for a long time before suddenly clicking his tongue.
"Whatever."
He turned around and walked toward the door.
"Aizen, you'd do well to remember this: keep your head down and do your job, and I won't give you any trouble."
He stopped at the door and turned his head. Half of his face was illuminated by moonlight, while the other half remained buried in shadow.
"But if you really are plotting something against the Soul Society, then I will be the one to drag you out into the light."
With that, he pulled the door open and walked out.
Aizen sat in place, the smile gradually fading from his face.
He took off his glasses and pulled a cloth from his robe, slowly and methodically wiping the lenses.
The lenses were clean as new, reflecting his calm eyes.
"Captain Hirako," Aizen whispered to himself, "your intuition is as sharp as ever..."
It was just a pity that intuition couldn't serve as evidence.
He put his glasses back on and finished writing the note. He folded it carefully and placed it into a specially made envelope.
The envelope had no markings on its surface, but he knew it would appear in the hands of someone under his command by tomorrow morning.
He had already drafted the special arrangements for the fifth-years' field trip to the Living World.
Having finished, Aizen walked to the full-length mirror in his office.
In the mirror, he looked neat and composed, with a gentle expression that anyone would perceive as a humble, reliable leader and comrade.
The moonlight moved, illuminating the entire surface of the mirror.
The Aizen in the mirror curled his lips into a subtle arc.
The Aizen outside the mirror maintained his gentle smile.
Inside and out, they overlapped.
Indistinguishable from one another.