BLEACH : THE NINTH KENPACHI

After walking out and seeing the appearance of the visitor clearly, Shutara Senjumaru seemed a little surprised.

"Captain Gosuke, I didn't expect a visit at this hour. What brings you here?"

Shutara Senjumaru remembered Gosuke Shigure. After all, once Gosuke had been promoted to captain, he came to her to commission a custom haori. However, his appearance here in the middle of the night was undeniably unexpected.

"Senjumaru, let's chat~"

The strong scent of alcohol emanated from Gosuke's body as he looked at her and slurred his words with an oddly familiar ease.

Senjumaru's brow twitched faintly.

For years, she had remained hidden within the Seireitei under the guise of a 12th Division artisan, concealing her true role as a Royal Guard. Very few outside the Central 46 or certain captains of old knew her true name or status.

Even those captains who briefly met her during haori commissions rarely knew her by name, let alone dared address her informally.

So how did Gosuke Shigure know to call her Senjumaru directly?

She quelled her curiosity for the moment, masking her thoughts behind a calm exterior as she asked coldly:

"What is it that Captain Gosuke wants to discuss?

From your smell, it seems you've been drinking.

Could it be you intend to ramble drunkenly in my workshop?"

Gosuke Shigure laughed bitterly.

"You're as sharp as a sewing needle."

After a pause, he attempted to sound more composed.

"I came because I remembered something. Someone named… Qiushui once left you a letter."

The moment the name Qiushui entered her ears, Shutara Senjumaru's body visibly stiffened.

Her expression shifted—just slightly—betraying a wave of inner turmoil.

She gazed at Gosuke with quiet intensity.

"…You've seen him?"

It was an almost impossible notion.

Gosuke Shigure was young by Soul Society standards—a prodigy, yes—but a mere youth. Qiushui had perished long before the Gotei 13 was even founded.

Of those still living who remembered Qiushui, only a handful remained: Yamamoto Genryūsai, Retsu Unohana, perhaps one or two of the elder noble families.

There should be no overlap between Gosuke and that man.

And yet, Shutara remembered the lingering spirit threads she had once bound—never truly faded. That man's spiritual signature had never fully dissolved.

Could some remnant have remained in the world?

Could he…?

Her eyes remained fixed on the younger captain.

"When did you meet him? What did the letter say?"

"I didn't exactly meet him," Gosuke admitted, exhaling alcohol-heavy breath.

"But it's weird… I feel like I know him."

He chuckled awkwardly.

"I don't even know what he looked like. I'm just guessing—he was probably tall, strong, very noble-looking… definitely not boring. Probably wild."

Senjumaru narrowed her eyes but didn't interrupt.

Gosuke continued, this time weaving a fabricated tale:

"When I was still a kid, I fell off a cliff. Seriously. Slipped while training, thought I was going to die. But at the bottom, I found a cavern. Inside was… something left behind by a powerful soul."

"A sword manual."

"And that manual… changed my life. It was filled with an older style of zanjutsu, completely unlike the Gotei 13's modern forms. Refined, elegant, but vicious. I practiced it obsessively, and it shaped everything I am now. I wouldn't be Kenpachi without it."

He paused.

"And in the back of that manual was a letter—written by the author. He signed it as Qiushui. And in the letter, he mentioned a woman named… Senjumaru."

Senjumaru's breath caught, just for an instant.

Gosuke added, with a sheepish grin:

"At the time, I thought the name sounded weird. I didn't take it seriously. I figured… old guy, writing about someone long dead."

"But later, after I became Kenpachi and came here to get my haori… I met you."

"And something clicked. Especially after seeing those skeletal arms—you're… different. So I dug a little. Quietly."

He leaned in slightly, his voice lower but not entirely sober.

"I found your name. Senjumaru."

"And tonight… I remembered everything. Not sure why. Maybe the sake helped. Maybe it was fate."

Senjumaru listened in silence.

The story was, in truth, absurd—at least to any ordinary listener. But not to her.

Qiushui had always been reckless. Flamboyant. Defiant toward the norms of their time.

Despite being from an ancient noble clan, he had rejected tradition and lived among the commoners of Rukongai, fighting for them. That rebelliousness had drawn her attention—her admiration.

And now, centuries later, someone had come to her, uninvited, with tales of a lost letter… a sword manual… and her name.

She murmured softly:

"It's just like you…"

In truth, she had once grown irritated with Qiushui's antics. He was too bold, too chaotic, too cavalier for a world built on rules and class.

In a time when noble clans held unshakable power and walls divided Seireitei from the rest of Soul Society, Qiushui had been an anomaly.

A noble who turned his back on status and bled for the common folk.

And despite herself… she had grown to respect him.

Admire him.

Care for him.

And now, in the eyes of Gosuke Shigure—this brash, young Kenpachi who bore none of the refinement of a noble—she caught glimpses of that same wild soul.

Could it be reincarnation?

Or something even stranger?

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