Shinigami in the Ninja World (Re-upload)

Hinamori's voice cracked, her words dissolving into incoherence.

Her bloodshot eyes, crisscrossed with red veins, burned with rage and hatred—emotions that clouded her judgment entirely.

Sasuke's expression remained neutral.

This was expected.

Aizen had obstructed him yesterday, and even in death, the same was happening now.

When news of Aizen's death first broke, Sasuke had anticipated such a reaction.

Unohana's behavior was telling. She had approached Sasuke with suspicion, while Hinamori's emotional outburst was undeniably genuine. Sasuke's calm and composed demeanor only deepened their doubts.

Unohana subtly stepped back, maintaining a safe distance as her hand rested lightly on the hilt of her sword.

"Captain Uchiha?" Isane Kotetsu gasped, startled by the accusation.

She instinctively believed Hinamori's words. The bonds between women often fostered stronger trust, and Hinamori's raw emotions seemed far too genuine to be fabricated.

Moreover, Sasuke was one of the few people capable of such an assassination.

Despite his youth, no one doubted his abilities—especially in the art of assassination, the hallmark of the 2nd Division.

"Falsely accusing a captain is no small crime," Sasuke said coldly, pressing his blade against Hinamori's neck. "You'll need evidence to back your claim."

"Captain Aizen's letter alone isn't enough to convict me."

Hinamori struggled, but her spiritual pressure was far too weak. Sasuke subdued her effortlessly.

"Captain Aizen is dead!" she cried, tears streaming uncontrollably.

Sasuke showed no sympathy. To him, her actions were pathetic, though he begrudgingly acknowledged Aizen's skill. Turning a lieutenant into such a sycophant was no small feat.

Still, he couldn't hide his disdain for Hinamori's blindness. A lieutenant should have been perceptive enough to notice discrepancies in her captain's behavior.

Instead, her reverence for Aizen had only grown, blinding her to reality.

"A god and their worshiper?" Sasuke sneered, shifting his gaze from Hinamori to Unohana.

Unohana remained silent, but her actions spoke volumes. She released her grip on her sword, a subtle acknowledgment of her lingering doubts.

Hinamori tried to speak again, but Sasuke raised his hand.

In an instant, several stealth operatives from the 2nd Division appeared.

"I don't have time for this nonsense," Sasuke said quietly. Turning to the operatives, he ordered, "Take this fool into custody."

"Once the meeting is over, I'll decide what to do with her."

The operatives nodded silently, grabbing Hinamori by her arms and escorting her away.

"You're quite decisive, Captain Uchiha," Unohana remarked, her tone layered with meaning.

Sasuke strode forward, unfazed. "Even if I were guilty, it's not her place to accuse me."

"She has neither the authority nor the qualifications."

Unohana walked alongside him, a faint smile playing on her lips. "As expected of the 2nd Division captain. So resolute."

Sasuke's voice turned cold. "You mean ruthless, don't you?"

Unohana chuckled but offered no reply.

The captains' meeting was brief and to the point.

The Captain-Commander addressed Aizen's letter and allegations but made it clear they were insufficient grounds for action.

Without evidence, the accusations against Sasuke could not be pursued.

More pressing was the external threat of the Ryoka. Resolving internal disputes could wait.

As long as Sasuke showed no signs of fleeing, the Captain-Commander saw no reason to escalate the matter.

What truly shocked the captains, however, was the announcement that the Central 46 had once again moved up Rukia Kuchiki's execution.

The new execution date: tomorrow.

The reasoning was strategic. Since the Ryoka's goal was to rescue Rukia, accelerating her execution would force their strongest member—still at large—to reveal himself.

No one could intervene.

Even Byakuya Kuchiki, whose opinion might have influenced the decision, remained silent. He returned to the Sixth Division barracks, calmly resuming his training as if nothing had happened.

Leaving the 1st Division barracks, Sasuke pondered.

It was obvious…

This entire situation had Aizen's manipulations written all over it.

But Aizen was dead—or so everyone believed.

Wouldn't it raise suspicion if a supposedly deceased man suddenly reappeared before the Central 46? Were the nobles complicit in Aizen's schemes, or had he used his Zanpakutō to deceive them entirely?

Without hesitation, Sasuke made his way to the Central 46 Chambers.

If the body in the 4th Division wasn't Aizen's, then where was the real one?

The most likely answer was the Central 46, especially after the sudden announcement to move up Rukia's execution.

Familiar with the path, Sasuke moved with precision. As Captain of the 2nd Division, he was more accustomed to dealing with the Central 46 than most of the Gotei 13.

But as he neared the entrance, he caught a whiff of something unusual.

The stench of blood.

Not the fresh, metallic scent of new blood, but something dry, decayed, and rotten—indicating deaths that occurred weeks ago.

Sasuke pushed open the doors.

The room was pitch black, visibility reduced to nothing.

Yet a heavy, familiar spiritual pressure filled the air.

The same pressure he had felt before the meeting and in the 4th Division.

"So, it's true," Sasuke said quietly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his Sharingan spinning to life. "You've been hiding here, Sōsuke Aizen."

A slow clap echoed from the darkness.

A man stepped forward, his face illuminated by a faint smile.

"Sharp as ever, Sasuke-kun," said Aizen smoothly.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. "You knew I'd come here?"

"I've been waiting for you," Aizen replied, his smile deepening. "Haven't you noticed something… odd? Something so painfully obvious—"

"A trap."

Sasuke said nothing but understood the implication.

Aizen had expected him to arrive. Yet, instead of concealing the carnage in the room with his Zanpakutō, Aizen had left it plainly visible for Sasuke to see.

It was unsettling.

"Sasuke-kun, I've always been wary of you," Aizen admitted, adjusting his glasses with a slight push. "Among all the captains, you're the only one I couldn't fully understand."

"You carry hatred in your heart. But who is that hatred directed toward?"

"There's no one in the World of the Living you resent, and no one in the Soul Society either."

Sasuke remained silent.

Feigning disappointment, Aizen sighed theatrically. "You always do this, Sasuke-kun. Rejecting kindness, refusing connection."

"Well, in that case, allow me to open up to you."

Aizen's tone turned serious, his words laden with significance. "Sasuke-kun, though I've never formally invited you, I've always seen you as my ideal partner."

"Now, you have a choice."

He raised his hand, gesturing to himself.

"Stand by my side—"

Then, with a turn of his hand, he pointed toward the grotesque, mangled bodies of the Central 46 scattered across the room.

"Or stand by theirs."

Sasuke's voice was icy. "Is that a threat?"

"A threat?" Aizen chuckled softly. "If you wish to see it that way, I won't stop you. But I prefer to call it a statement of reality."

"After all…"

"To me, Sasuke-kun, you are also a threat."

Aizen's "threat" wasn't a promise of immediate violence—it was a warning.

The corpses littering the room were his leverage.

He could frame Sasuke as the culprit behind the massacre, just as he had already planted seeds of suspicion against him.

"How utterly revolting," Sasuke said, his sword poised low to the ground. "I despise threats."

Aizen spread his hands in a placating gesture, smiling. "Then perhaps you'll allow me to explain further."

"Do you know what I aim to achieve? You have no attachment to the Seireitei, do you?"

Sasuke didn't respond immediately.

It wasn't entirely true—he wasn't completely devoid of sentiment for this world. But Sasuke understood his place.

His roots were in the ninja world, where he was born and where his destiny lay. This world, the Soul Society, was never meant to be his home.

He still didn't understand why he could move between the two worlds.

But he knew this ability could disappear at any time.

If he became too entangled here and suddenly lost his connection to the ninja world, it would be a disaster—for both himself and the Seireitei.

Better to remain prepared for the inevitable.

Aizen's voice broke his thoughts.

"I've been a captain for many years, Sasuke-kun," Aizen said quietly. "But even before I became a captain, I was investigating something—the truth behind the Soul Society's existence."

"The Gotei 13 has existed for only two thousand years, yet the Soul Society itself is millions of years old."

"What I discovered…" Aizen's voice darkened, dripping with disdain, "was truly vile."

"The noble houses, their empty titles, the Kuchiki clan's pretense of virtue—don't you find it all utterly repulsive?"

Sasuke's cold gaze locked on Aizen, unflinching.

Aizen narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing him.

Sasuke's stoic demeanor betrayed nothing, but Aizen could sense the simmering emotions beneath the surface. Sasuke's moral compass was strong, his sense of justice unwavering.

And yet…

Even that didn't seem to sway him.

Sasuke finally smirked, a mocking edge to his voice. "And here I thought you were just a manipulative schemer. Turns out you're some kind of revolutionary?"

"Who would have guessed?"

Aizen's silence stretched for a moment before he chuckled softly. "That was merely a story I thought might resonate with you."

"Clearly, I underestimated you."

"Well then, let's abandon pretense. I'll tell you what I truly seek."

Aizen relaxed his posture, his tone casual yet calculated. "No need to be so tense. I'm sure Kisuke Urahara and Yoruichi Shihōin have told you something by now."

"What I desire… is the Hōgyoku in Kisuke's possession."

"It's a fascinating object, wouldn't you agree?"

"Its power…" Aizen's eyes gleamed with ambition. "Can shatter the limits of a Shinigami."

Sasuke sneered, his voice laced with contempt. "You mean that hollowfication process? Turning yourself into something neither man nor beast?"

"Of course not." Aizen shook his head, almost offended. "That was merely a small experiment—to test the Hōgyoku's capabilities and see if hollow powers could coexist with Shinigami abilities."

"Unfortunately…" Aizen's tone shifted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "It was a failure."

"While hollow powers could be implanted into Shinigami, the process was uncontrollable—a parasitic invasion rather than a harmonious fusion."

"Still, the experiment proved one thing: I was right."

"The Hōgyoku's power simply isn't strong enough—yet."

Sasuke paused.

Something about Aizen's words didn't sit right.

The Hōgyoku—wasn't it supposed to be inside Rukia Kuchiki?

Aizen chuckled softly. "So, you noticed."

"I'm not some petty thief who covets what others hold," he continued. "I have my own Hōgyoku, but its power is incomplete, fragmented. It isn't strong enough or whole enough. That's why I need Kisuke Urahara's Hōgyoku—to fuse them together and make it complete. Only then will it truly possess the ability to break all limits."

He stepped forward, extending his hand. "Sasuke-kun, don't you desire power? Shinigami have their limits. You're still young—your skills, your Zanpakutō, and your spiritual pressure have yet to reach perfection. But with your talent, it won't take long to reach your peak."

"And as for me? I've already reached that peak. Let's evolve together."

Realizing Sasuke wasn't swayed by appeals to justice, Aizen switched tactics, targeting his pursuit of strength.

"Another pathetic attempt," Sasuke said, swinging his Zanpakutō. "Is that how you see me?"

Sasuke could admit that he was willing to pay a steep price for power—if that price was extracted from himself. He had sometimes considered sacrificing others, but only when those people were completely unrelated to him.

But when it came to those he cared about? Sasuke couldn't bring himself to use them as pawns.

Aizen sighed, feigning disappointment. "It seems I can't persuade you. In that case…"

He seemed to do nothing, but Sasuke's eyes widened as he looked down.

A blade was already piercing his chest—straight through the front, direct and unrelenting.

"You could've chosen better, Sasuke-kun," Aizen said, his tone almost regretful. The distance between them, previously over ten meters, had vanished. Aizen stood beside him, slowly pushing the blade deeper.

Though the stab wasn't fatal, it was deliberate.

Sasuke gritted his teeth, bracing himself as he kicked off the ground to retreat.

"Ah, I've grown rusty from inactivity," Aizen mused, shaking his head lazily.

Rusty? Impossible.

For Aizen to close the distance without Sasuke noticing and deliberately strike his chest while avoiding fatal areas—he had full control over his movements.

This wasn't sloppiness.

It was a calculated move to provoke Sasuke into fighting, forcing him to act.

No doubt reinforcements were already on their way, drawn by the clash of spiritual pressures.

When they arrived, they would see Sasuke in the Central 46 chambers, surrounded by corpses, attacking Aizen.

If Sasuke fought back, he'd be blamed.

If he didn't fight, Aizen wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

"Well then, Sasuke-kun," Aizen taunted, lifting his blade casually. "How many times can your body endure this? Take a guess—where will the next strike land?"

Sasuke sneered. "Do you know the name of these eyes?"

Aizen tilted his head, intrigued but silent.

"They're called Sharingan," Sasuke answered. "And against these eyes, no illusion is effective."

Aizen smiled. "No illusion? How odd, Sasuke-kun. Yet you haven't seen through me, have you?"

Sasuke didn't respond. His Sharingan spun, transforming into its most powerful form: the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.

Its pattern shifted into a six-pointed star with three additional petal-like markings at its center—a transformation unlocked when Sasuke transplanted Itachi's Mangekyō.

As the Mangekyō activated, Sasuke unleashed its power.

"Tsukuyomi."

Aizen's expression flickered for the first time.

Caught off guard, he felt his surroundings dissolve, replaced by an endless abyss of blackness.

The Central 46 chambers vanished, and he found himself bound to a massive cross, his limbs immobilized.

In front of him stood Sasuke, clad in his Shinigami attire, holding a katana distinct from his Zanpakutō.

"A Bankai ability?" Aizen mused, observing the space around him. "A domain-like technique? Even my Zanpakutō's abilities are suppressed. An impressive power."

He wasn't lying.

Though Kyōka Suigetsu could still activate, it was ineffective here.

"This is the Tsukuyomi World," Sasuke explained coldly. "In this world, only our spiritual forms exist. Your Zanpakutō manipulates perception, but it can't alter thoughts. Without a mind to deceive, your illusions are meaningless."

Aizen narrowed his eyes.

A technique perfectly tailored to counter him—a frustratingly troublesome ability.

"Furthermore, this world is mine to command," Sasuke continued. "I control everything here: time, weight, sensations, reality itself. Are you ready, Aizen? Prepare to suffer."

Countless clones of Sasuke materialized, all wielding identical katanas.

The first blade pierced Aizen's body.

Aizen's eyes twitched. The pain was overwhelming, magnified far beyond the sensation of a simple stab wound.

This wasn't just pain—it was agony amplified a hundredfold.

Then came the second blade.

Aizen gritted his teeth, refusing to scream as Sasuke's clones drove blade after blade into his body.

But for every stab, his spiritual energy surged, attempting to shatter the domain.

Good news: spiritual pressure still functioned in this realm.

Bad news: Sasuke's spiritual pressure was formidable, almost at the threshold of the highest rank. Aizen's attempts to break free weren't instantaneous.

He endured the torment for what felt like ten hours, every second stretching into eternity.

Finally, with a deafening crack, the Tsukuyomi World shattered.

Aizen had succeeded in breaking free.

The real world.

Aizen exhaled sharply, his hand instinctively clutching at his chest. "What a terrifying ability," he murmured. "Even I couldn't avoid it."

Sasuke remained silent, but his Mangekyō Sharingan spun once more.

"Amaterasu."

Black flames materialized from nowhere, instantly engulfing Aizen's body. The fire devoured his right arm, spreading with relentless ferocity.

Aizen's eyes narrowed as he raised a finger. A torrent of water gushed forth, cascading over the flames in an attempt to extinguish them.

The water sizzled and evaporated into steam upon contact with the black fire, but the flames themselves remained unscathed.

Sasuke raised his hand, partially covering his eyes.

"Kagutsuchi."

The black flames writhed as though alive, a tendril coiling and striking Aizen's sleeve. The fabric ignited instantly, and the fire burrowed deeper into his arm.

Finding fresh material to consume, the flames roared even brighter.

Aizen frowned, sensing the flames' unique properties. Water was useless.

He shifted tactics, pointing a finger again. This time, a mass of earth emerged, encasing his burning arm in a solid cocoon, sealing off any air.

After all, the best way to extinguish fire was to suffocate it.

But even deprived of oxygen, the black flames continued to burn.

The earth surrounding Aizen's arm crumbled into molten slag, devoured by the unrelenting fire. Soon, the flames consumed his entire arm.

"There's no way to extinguish them," Sasuke said coldly. "These are the flames of Amaterasu. They will never go out. Stop resisting. You have two choices: sever your arm or burn completely."

Aizen's expression twisted involuntarily.

"Impossible to extinguish…"

Without hesitation, he switched his blade to his left hand and swung it down, severing his right arm at the shoulder.

The arm flew through the air, engulfed in black flames.

Sasuke caught it effortlessly, his expression unreadable.

Aizen stared intently as Sasuke flicked the arm, extinguishing the flames with a mere gesture.

"Aizen," Sasuke said, his voice icy, "whatever you try, it's futile."

Aizen paused, inhaling deeply before a faint smile returned to his face. "Impressive. Truly impressive. Your eyes are extraordinary."

He spoke truthfully.

Normally, a Zanpakutō's Bankai possessed a single, specialized ability.

For instance, Yamamoto's was fire manipulation, while Kyōraku's was a stronger version of his Shikai.

But Sasuke's abilities defied logic.

His earlier use of Tsukuyomi suggested an illusion-based power, tied to the manipulation of perception.

Yet now, Sasuke wielded an entirely different power: flames.

And these flames weren't ordinary.

Aizen could feel it—they were as dangerous as Ryūjin Jakka, the oldest and most powerful flame-based Zanpakutō wielded by Yamamoto himself.

Such versatility defied the basic rules of Zanpakutō abilities.

Caught off guard, Aizen allowed Sasuke to seize his severed arm.

This complicated matters.

The ability of Kyōka Suigetsu was to manipulate the five senses, creating illusions. However, these illusions had to align with a semblance of reality.

If they were too outlandish, they risked being seen through.

While Aizen could theoretically alter perceptions to disguise the arm's origin, Unohana Retsu's medical expertise would quickly expose the truth.

She would determine the arm's severance time.

Fabricating the arm's appearance or altering its timeline would raise suspicions.

Kyōka Suigetsu's illusions couldn't alter absolute facts.

The mere presence of the arm would implicate Aizen.

His mental calculus was swift and decisive.

He couldn't hide forever.

Aizen quickly applied Reiatsu Healing to the stump where his arm had been.

"Sasuke-kun, you've given me quite the predicament," he said with a feigned sigh of regret. "I didn't expect your Zanpakutō to be this… unique."

Sasuke gripped the severed arm tightly. "It's over, Aizen. Stop resisting."

Aizen's smirk returned. "Over? Losing an arm may seem like a heavy price, but discovering part of your abilities? That's a fair trade."

"And besides…"

He raised his left hand, his tone light but filled with menace.

"This only accelerates my plans to properly greet the Gotei 13. It's earlier than I intended, and the stage isn't perfect… but I'll make do."

"Take good care of those eyes, Sasuke-kun. When we meet again, they'll be part of my collection."

His spiritual pressure surged, forming a spiral of white threads around him, enveloping his entire body.