Chapter Ninety-One: Flowers in the Mirror, Moon in the Water

Staring intently at the ever-gentle Aizen before him, Chojiro felt his heart begin to drum anxiously. In truth, Chojiro would rather face Yamamoto Shigekuni head-on than risk getting close to Aizen. Yet, as time passed, his competitive spirit grew ever fiercer, pushing him toward the desire for a decisive confrontation.

Back then, to avoid attracting undue attention or suspicion from Aizen, Chojiro did not refuse his invitation when all the vice-captains were summoned, knowing well what was at stake. Though he was familiar with the story, witnessing Aizen release his zanpakuto with his own eyes stirred a different sentiment within him. In the briefest instant, Aizen’s power ensnared everyone, forcing them forever to be subject to his illusions—a zanpakuto truly defying the natural order.

Still, Chojiro felt no envy or longing for such power. If it were only about the zanpakuto, he himself possessed something just as formidable.

With a sharp click, he slowly drew the blade from his waist. Compared to his effortless duel against Hitsugaya, Aizen now appeared far more solemn. Armed with his own vast knowledge, Aizen understood well that this heavyweight from a thousand years past stood as Yamamoto's equal, worthy of the same reverence.

Seeing Aizen draw his blade, Gin raised an eyebrow, surprised that Aizen cared so much about the First Division's vice-captain.

The two fell abruptly into silence—one wielding his sword, the other not even grasping the hilt—locked in a strange standoff.

Abruptly, a metallic clang shattered the quiet, startling Gin, who had been watching the pair closely. Somehow, two figures had appeared between the original opponents, their zanpakuto crossing as they engaged in direct combat.

Aizen’s eyes narrowed, showing a hint of surprise though his expression remained calm. "You actually saw through it."

"Perfectly clear," Chojiro nodded slightly, his zanpakuto swiftly transforming into a silvery western sword.

"Severe Spirit Lightning!"

A sudden release and a powerful attack caught Aizen off guard for a moment. He emerged from the smoke caused by the explosion; while the lightning’s unexpected force surprised him, its power was not enough to inflict real harm.

A sharp hiss followed—unexpectedly, a razor-edged blade burst forth from Aizen's chest, carrying blood from within, piercing him through.

Aizen's mouth trickled blood, his body frozen in midair as if suspended on the blade, limbs dangling, his sword falling from his grasp and embedding itself in the ground.

"Surprised?" A sly, calculating smile played across Chojiro’s lips. To outwit the great Aizen was an honor beyond measure.

"You never imagined things would end like this, Captain Aizen," Chojiro said, well versed in the story and certain that this Aizen was the true one, not some illusory substitute. Certainty brings opportunity.

"You would actually do such a thing..." Aizen’s smile faded, but his face betrayed no other emotion—he remained the same gentle man, unruffled even by betrayal from his most trusted subordinate.

"Gin."

Below, Gin gripped his extended blade, his smile deepening.

"I asked you before, who you'd want to die with. You never answered, so... nothing to be done." His smile grew wider. "I can only kill you here."

"Is that so..." Aizen’s expression did not change, his lips even curling slightly. "So from the start, you followed Vice-Captain Chojiro?"

"Earlier than even I did..."

"The consequences of misplaced trust, Captain Aizen..." Chojiro knew well that when Gin would later seize the Hogyoku and unleash his bankai, Aizen never anticipated betrayal, so he trusted that Aizen would not expect it now, either.

"Memorable, isn’t it?"

"Indeed..." Finding himself in this predicament was his own carelessness—subordinates, after all, were never truly trustworthy.

"But Vice-Captain Chojiro, you trust too deeply in the situation before you..."

A cold blade, carrying deadly intent, suddenly pierced through Chojiro’s body, accompanied by the blood that should have quietly coursed through his chest.

The shock of the moment stunned not only Chojiro but even Gin, whose eyes opened wide from behind his usual squint.

"Also unforgettable," Aizen murmured.

Blood spurted from Chojiro’s pale lips, staining his equally pallid face.

"Though it was only a precaution, I never thought I’d actually need to use it." With a hint of a cold smile, Aizen appeared behind Chojiro, slowly withdrawing the blade from his body, trailing a ribbon of crimson.

"Truly regrettable, Vice-Captain Chojiro."

By the time Chojiro had fallen to one knee from his wound, Gin finally realized what had happened, glancing at his still-extended blade—the tip now utterly empty.

"You as well, Gin. It’s a shame."

A voice from behind sent chills down Gin’s spine; all the hairs on his body stood on end.

"I truly never expected you to betray me."

"Bankai—" Gin tried to respond, knowing full well Aizen’s terror, and prepared to reveal his trump card. But before he could finish, Aizen denied him the chance—the figure behind him appeared before Gin the moment he turned.

"It’s over."

A sharp hiss, and Gin’s right shoulder, the one holding his blade, was suddenly drenched in blood. With his hidden power extinguished before it could manifest, Gin collapsed.

"Knowing you betrayed me, I suspect your bankai has changed somewhat. I won’t allow unknown variables to appear."

Ignoring Gin, wounded and prone, Aizen walked steadily toward Chojiro, kneeling nearby with a bleeding chest.

"Regardless, I must commend you, Vice-Captain Chojiro."

Passing by Chojiro, Aizen’s eyes were concealed behind reflective lenses, his face unchanged.

"You should show yourself now..."

He cast a glance at the woman emerging from the shadows, his smile deepening.

"Captain Unohana."