Bleach: The Shinigami’s Zanpakutō That Unleashed Bankai On Its Own

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"Idiot. Meow!"

Moyu paid the price for his loose tongue again. It took considerable effort to pin down the irritable Shihouin Yoruichi.

"Seriously..." he muttered, placing the black cat off to the side as he adjusted his wrinkled clothes with visible difficulty.

He was starting to think Yoruichi was far more temperamental in her feline form than in her human one. Maybe this was just how she let her nature run free.

"So," Moyu said, brushing dust off his shoulder, "mind telling me why you're really here?"

He and Yoruichi had known each other since their noble childhoods. Compared to Byakuya's stiff, aristocratic coldness, Moyu had stayed relatively unchanged—casual, reckless, too comfortable in his own skin. That comfort had nurtured a bond between him and this black cat that had endured across years and chaos.

Still, before she left Soul Society after the Hollowfication incident, Moyu always felt there was something strange in the way Yoruichi looked at him—eyes always lingering a second too long, expression unreadable.

But before he could ask, she vanished from Seireitei.

Since then, they'd kept some contact, but separation across dimensions made communication limited and spotty. Moyu never really knew how she was doing.

Now she sat opposite him, squatting on the armrest of the couch, golden eyes unreadable as she licked her paw.

"Let's start with you," Yoruichi said suddenly, her eyes narrowing. "Why are you in the living world? And don't tell me you actually graduated from the Spiritual Arts Academy early."

She knew Moyu's capabilities well. Back when Kuchiki Ginrei had asked her to personally train the younger Kuchiki heir in flash step, she'd observed firsthand the disparity between him and Byakuya. Compared to his cousin's natural genius, Moyu's talent had always seemed… underwhelming.

She wouldn't say hopeless, but close.

Yet here he was—early graduate, field-deployed, and clearly more capable than anyone had expected.

"Well..." Moyu rubbed the back of his neck. "Late bloomer?"

He offered a sheepish grin. "Believe what you want. I knew you'd track me down eventually anyway. Also, watch that mouth, you stupid cat—I'm plenty strong now."

Yoruichi shot him a flat look.

"You say that while lying on your back after I pounced you into the floor. Keep talking big."

"You're still dodging the question, by the way."

Moyu sighed. He hadn't expected her to believe him—nobody really did. The changes he'd undergone were too strange to explain, even with effort. Even Byakuya had grilled him endlessly about it, half-suspecting he'd been swapped out for a fake and almost dragging him to the Twelfth Division for a full soul analysis.

"I'm here on assignment," Moyu said, setting a tea set down between them. "After a few missions, the Captain and the others realized I was wasted in the Fourth Division. Thought some field experience would help... temper me or whatever."

He poured the tea calmly.

"The old man and Unohana agreed to it. Then Byakuya personally selected this area as my post—Karakura Town."

Before he could finish, Yoruichi suddenly raised her voice, slipping into a deep male tone:

"Ara ara, no need to explain~"

Standing upright on her hind legs, she held her forepaws open like a mock embrace. The black cat's face wore a disturbingly knowing grin.

"Throw yourself into Onee-san's arms, I understand everything now~"

"I'm not interested in stupid cats," Moyu muttered, not even glancing up.

"Anyway, the real reason they sent me here... is because things in the living world are spiraling. All members of the Thirteenth Division are now deployed here, and even other squads have been called in."

He paused, watching her reaction.

"Yoruichi, do you know what's going on?"

Her expression turned serious in an instant.

"Strictly speaking, it's not the Hollows."

She lowered her voice.

"It's war. Internal war—Zanran."

"...Zanran?"

Moyu frowned, his posture straightening as his gaze sharpened.

"You mean Hueco Mundo is at war?"

Yoruichi exhaled deeply. Life wasn't easy—for cats or Shinigami.

Using one claw, she scratched a crude map onto the surface of the table.

"There's been an increase in spiritual activity in the living world. More Hollows escaping from Hueco Mundo. Workload's ballooned."

"Even with Kidō barriers shielding our base, the environmental pressure hasn't changed. That's why Urahara went to investigate directly."

"The situation in Hueco Mundo has deteriorated fast. Whatever order existed is unraveling. Clans are warring. Entire zones are lawless. A mass exodus of Hollows is pushing more and more into this world."

Moyu sat back, brows furrowed in thought.

"Aizen's in control of Las Noches... or he was. He should've kept order, if only for the sake of his ambitions."

But this?

This sounded like total destabilization.

Even for Aizen, it felt premature.

Something must've changed—something even he hadn't predicted.

Or maybe Aizen had predicted it… and was letting it unfold on purpose.

Yoruichi's golden eyes gleamed.

"As for the rest," she said, curling her tail neatly around her feet, "you'll have to ask that shady hat-wearing bastard yourself."

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