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

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The warehouse Moyu temporarily called home wasn't far from the Urahara Shop.

Guided by Shihouin Yoruichi, the two arrived swiftly at a secluded part of town—quiet, grass-grown edges flanking it, with distant high-rises looming like silent watchers. The structure ahead resembled an abandoned residential complex more than anything commercial.

Yoruichi stepped forward, pale white Reiatsu rising from her palm. As she pressed it into empty air, reality rippled like water disturbed by stone.

"As a wanted criminal of the Soul Society," Yoruichi said, smirking slightly, "a Kidō barrier is a must."

Moyu didn't challenge the excuse. Even now, Yoruichi remained tight-lipped about the real reason behind her defection. Aizen's secret, still buried. She had no idea just how much Moyu already knew—far more than she likely suspected.

As they stepped past the barrier, the illusion peeled away to reveal a humble storefront. A slightly worn plaque above read Urahara Shōten, the paint faded with time.

Inside, the interior was even simpler—spartan shelves, wooden beams, and paper walls. If not for the sign outside, one might mistake it for just another old house.

"Saara, a rare guest," came a voice from deeper inside.

A door slid open, and a familiar figure emerged: short, light blond curls tucked under a green-striped bucket hat, with matching green haori over loose, pale slacks. Each step in his clogs creaked against the floor.

"Welcome," the man said cheerfully as he approached. "A distinguished guest like this—I haven't seen one in years."

Urahara Kisuke. Former captain of Squad Twelve, founder of the Technology Development Bureau, and father of more dangerous inventions than anyone wanted to count.

The last time Moyu had seen him face-to-face, they were both still in Soul Society. Back then, Moyu had instinctively kept his distance—his strength too lacking to stand near someone like Urahara without being devoured by his intellect. Curiously, Urahara had reciprocated the distance. They had observed each other from afar—acknowledging, but not engaging. A silent understanding.

"You haven't changed at all, Mr. Urahara," Moyu said coolly.

"Ha! I try to stay consistent," Urahara laughed lightly, tipping his hat lower. "But you, Mr. Moyu, seem to have changed a great deal."

"This isn't much of a place to welcome guests," he added, turning on his heel. "Come. Let's speak somewhere more fitting."

Moyu shot a glance at Yoruichi. She gave him a quick wink. He understood immediately—this whole thing had been planned.

They followed Urahara into a cleaner, more spacious tatami room. The air inside was warm, if a bit dusty.

"The tea you requested, Manager."

A tall, broad-shouldered man entered with a tray in hand. His thick moustache and square glasses barely disguised the gentle yet imposing aura he carried.

Tessai Tsukabishi. Once head of the Kido Corps, master of forbidden spells—capable of warping time and space itself. Now, apparently, a shop assistant with questionable taste.

As Tessai carefully set down the tray, Moyu blinked at the contents, nose twitching.

"Mr. Tessai," he asked dryly, "may I ask something?"

Tessai bowed slightly. "Yes, Lord Moyu. Please ask."

"Has this tea... expired?"

The leaves were a sickly green, and a musty odor wafted up from the cup.

"This is the manager's most treasured tea," Tessai replied with perfect seriousness. "He brought it back from Soul Society himself."

Moyu raised a hand and rubbed his face.

That was enough. No further questions. If he kept digging, he might discover the leaves were older than Yamamoto Genryūsai himself.

"Ahem." Urahara coughed, shifting the conversation. "Don't mind the details. Let's talk about you, shall we? Your real reason for coming to this world?"

Moyu smiled faintly, folding his hands on his lap.

"My reason?"

"I have no personal reason. I'm here purely on official orders."

Urahara blinked, surprised by the unexpected response.

"Official?"

Moyu's voice remained steady.

"As the stationed Shinigami assigned to Karakura Town, I have the authority to locate and apprehend all defected Soul Reapers."

He leaned forward slightly, his words sharp as steel.

"And bring them back to Soul Society for judgment."

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