Chapter Ninety: The Fall of Ice

A bone-chilling cold swept over him, and even for the youngest captain in history, the pressure was undeniable. After all, a Bankai, no matter how immature, was still formidable, and for Gin, the strain was impossible to ignore. Yet, it was only Gin who felt this way...

A sharp crack echoed.

Gin grasped the hilt of his sword, his expression suddenly grave, ready to draw his blade and strike first.

"Stop, Gin."

Compared to Gin's tension, Aizen remained utterly calm. The overwhelming murderous intent and spiritual pressure pouring from Hitsugaya seemed not to exist for him, not even worthy of concern.

"If you fight him, it'll drag on endlessly. Leave it to me."

Gin said nothing. His slitted eyes stared blankly into the distance, then he released his grip on the sword, standing motionless amidst the frigid wind.

"Aizen..."

Hitsugaya glared at the man who had once cared for him deeply. The image he had cherished for years was now shattered beyond repair. Not only had Aizen destroyed it, he had personally pierced Hinamori, the girl Hitsugaya had always admired. Such a crime was unforgivable.

"Aizen!"

Ice began to envelop the blade in Hitsugaya's hand, as he charged, howling, at the defenseless Aizen standing before him.

"Letting anger cloud your mind is unwise, Hitsugaya."

Hitsugaya's blade was close enough to taste the sharpness, yet Aizen's expression remained unchanged, his smile unwavering.

"Can the injured Hinamori behind you withstand your spiritual pressure?"

That simple, casual remark was more effective than any weapon. Hitsugaya halted instantly.

To him, that small, fragile body meant more than anything—far more than his hatred for the enemy before him. Even the shadow of the girl was more important.

"Hinamori!"

Worry for her overwhelmed him, and he immediately turned to look at the increasingly faint breath of the girl behind him.

"Exposing your back to the enemy is a grave mistake."

The moment Hitsugaya turned his head, Aizen's form appeared once more in his view.

His emerald eyes trembled; Flash Step was not an extraordinary technique, but as a captain himself—even distracted by concern for Hinamori—he should not have failed to react to an equal's movement.

"I told you, letting anger cloud your judgment is unwise."

Aizen spoke gently, his face adorned with a faint smile, never turning his head, like a kindly teacher admonishing his wayward pupil.

Suddenly, scalding blood erupted from Hitsugaya's back and chest, dyeing the surrounding ice a terrifying red.

Aizen maintained his original posture, his sword still resting quietly in its sheath, as if it had never been drawn.

With a dull thud, the icy wings and dragon tail shattered instantly, and as Hitsugaya's body slowly collapsed, they turned into a flurry of ice fragments.

The three ice flowers in the air exploded at once, the domain created by Hyorinmaru fading, leaving behind only a haze of white mist as the ice melted.

The light vanished from his eyes. The boy's small frame lay quietly in the mist, unmoving.

"Oh? I didn't expect to see crimson ice here."

Aizen looked up slightly, watching the shattered ice drift through the air, tinged with traces of blood.

"A rare sight in this season."

Ignoring the fallen boy and girl, Aizen turned and walked toward the door.

"Oh my, how cruel—deceiving a child," Gin remarked, his trademark fox-like smile back on his face, impenetrable as ever.

"I didn't deceive him, Gin. With Hinamori's injuries, she cannot withstand Hitsugaya's spiritual pressure. Besides..."

Despite having just killed a captain, Aizen's expression was unchanged—no excitement, no disdain, as if he'd merely swatted an insignificant fly.

"To die beside someone you cherished is truly rare."

"Oh? In that case..."

The two passed each other without so much as a glance.

"Who would you wish to die with?"

Aizen's brown-haired figure paused for a moment, then continued toward the exit.

"That question holds little meaning..."

Once more, a gentle smile graced Aizen's lips as he stepped out of the house.

"The next guest has arrived. Go greet him, Gin."

Gin's expression remained unchanged, still smiling as he turned, following Aizen toward the door.

"Understood, Captain Aizen."

"I'm surprised you aren't at the Head Captain's side. What brings you here, Vice-Captain Sasakibe?"

Though Aizen's words conveyed surprise at the unexpected visitor, his expression betrayed no such emotion; it was as if he'd anticipated this arrival.

"That's what I should be asking. Why are you here, Captain Aizen, when you should be dead?"

Chojiro faced the amiable-looking Aizen, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Yet you seem completely unsurprised, as if my survival was expected by you."

"Well, that's unfortunate. I never liked you much to begin with. Dead or alive, it's all the same."

"Oh?"

It was the first time anyone had spoken of him in such terms. Aizen had always been confident that his gentle persona could win favor, at the very least not inspire dislike. Yet from the start, this man had felt nothing for him—how peculiar.

"Did I really make you so repulsed before?"

Aizen's smile remained unchanged, still the gentle man he had always appeared to be.

"No, not before—don't misunderstand, Aizen."

Chojiro's gaze chilled. The man before him was an equal to the Head Captain, and any carelessness would be disastrous.

"From the moment you were born, I've never liked you."

"Then there's nothing to be done."

His voice remained soft, unaffected by Chojiro's provocation.

"I had hoped to avoid this battle..."

"Unmoved by the waves"—these words perfectly described Aizen's current state. Nothing could stir his expression, not even his heart.

"In that case, let us begin, Vice-Captain Sasakibe."