XX-level Hokage

Mashiro took the glass, took a small sip, and found the wine to be warm and smooth with a refreshing aftertaste.

“I couldn’t very well refuse Captain-Commander Yamamoto’s kind offer,” she replied casually. The air was filled with the aroma of sake and a subtle silence between them.

Their relationship is not ordinary; in a sense, they are a couple, except that Yoruichi is just one of Mashiro's many "girlfriends".

At that time, Yoruichi had an almost fanatical infatuation and worship of Mashiro. Mashiro was the perfect being in her eyes. Mashiro led her to the peak of Hakuda and taught her how to examine the world and... how to indulge her inner desires.

"Back then... after you defected, I cut off all contact with you." Yoruichi broke the silence, her voice lower and carrying an indescribable complex emotion.

She didn't ask why, nor did she question him; she simply stated a fact. Mashiro gazed at the ripples spreading in the glass, her eyes distant.

“You’re a smart person with your own judgment. Kisuke Urahara’s influence is considerable. He must have said a lot of bad things about me to you, right?” Her tone carried a faint smile, without a hint of blame, but rather sounded like praise.

Yoruichi's golden pupils flickered, but she did not deny it.

“He did paint a picture of Mashiro for me, one that's quite different from how you portray her.” She finished her drink and then poured more for herself and Mashiro. “You once said that the rules of Seireitei are sometimes just a higher level of disguise.”

Mashiro chuckled softly, picked up her wine glass and lightly clinked it against Yoruichi's glass, producing a crisp sound.

"It seems you haven't forgotten." She gazed at Yoruichi, her eyes holding a scrutinizing look, yet also the admiration of an old friend. "But even so, you..."

You haven't had a relationship with anyone else, right?

Yoruichi's body stiffened slightly, a faint blush rising on her cheeks—perhaps from the alcohol, or perhaps from the embarrassment of having her innermost thoughts exposed by Mashiro. She avoided Mashiro's gaze and said softly, "This is none of your business."

"Oh?" Mashiro put down her glass, leaned forward slightly, and stared intently at Yoruichi. She reached out and gently brushed the stray hairs behind Yoruichi's ear with her fingertips.

With a hint of deliberate intent... "But I clearly felt it, you..."

oo

Yoruichi felt a jolt of electricity run from her ear down her spine, and she abruptly looked up to meet Mashiro's gaze.

Mashiro's eyes held a hint of amusement, a touch of insight, and a familiar, deep allure—an allure like invisible threads, binding her to the depths of her heart.

"You...you're still the same as before, Mashiro Sejinse." Yoruichi's voice was a little hoarse. She felt her heart beating faster, and the smell of alcohol in the air seemed to become stronger, mixed with a kind of indescribable heat.

"You too, the little kitten of Shihouin." Mashiro chuckled, her fingertips sliding down Yoruichi's cheek to her chin.

Her neckline was open, and she gently rubbed her delicate collarbone with her fist. Her movements were slow and seductive, making Yoruichi's breathing quicken. Their bodies were very close, their breaths mingling in the air.

The effects of alcohol made the dam of reason tremble, and Mashiro's deliberate provocation became the last straw that broke the camel's back.

Yoruichi's eyes were half-closed. She could smell the unique scent on Mashiro, a scent that was both crisp and sweet. It was a familiar scent from her memory, a scent that had once captivated her.

Chapter 173: The Beginning (Part 1)

“You know, Yoruichi,” Mashiro’s voice became low and hoarse, carrying a bewitching charm, “I always wonder if you could truly suppress the desires deep within your heart after you left me. After all, you’ve never been one to compromise yourself.”

Yoruichi's body began to tremble, and she felt an indescribable heat surging within her.

Respect, infatuation, even a hint of resentment towards the past—all these, under the influence of alcohol, were now... She understood what Mashiro was saying, and she understood Mashiro's intentions.

She tried to say something, but her throat seemed blocked, and she could only let out faint gasps.

“Absurd…” Yoruichi murmured softly, her voice trembling slightly, but it wasn’t a rejection; it was more like a struggle between wanting to accept and reject.

Her body reacted before her mind could react; she reached out and placed her hand on Mashiro's hand that was stroking her collarbone, her fingertips gently rubbing against the smooth skin on the back of Mashiro's hand.

Mashiro sensed Yoruichi's response. She gently took Yoruichi's hand, then pulled her palm to her lips and lightly kissed Yoruichi's palm.

This gentle kiss, like a fuse, instantly ignited all the warmth and passion in the air. Yoruichi's breathing became completely erratic; she felt as if all the blood in her body was boiling.

She stopped resisting and struggling, simply yielding to the long-suppressed desire deep within her heart.

Mashiro released Yoruichi's hand, and her palm slowly slid down Yoruichi's side, finally stopping at the slenderest part of her waist.

She leaned down slightly, bringing her cheek close to Yoruichi's ear, and whispered, "I know what you want, little kitty... just as I know that you still have that longing for me now."

Yoruichi didn't answer. She just closed her eyes tightly, her senses completely overwhelmed by Mashiro's voice and touch. The alcohol was raging in her blood, washing away all her reason and defenses.

A pair of pale lips gently touched Yoruichi's earlobe, and then... Yoruichi's body began to arch...

Her hands gripped Shiro's sleeve tightly, her fingertips digging deep into the fabric.

Deep in the courtyard, a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, as if nature were playing a prelude to this moment of reunion.

Their figures blurred in the gradually darkening light, only the warm, ambiguous scent of sake and perfume lingered in the air.

The moon gradually rose, and its soft light pierced through the shadows of the trees, spilling into the depths of the courtyard.

Under the eaves, two intertwined figures were blurred in the haze, with only faint breathing and the sound of clothes rubbing together occasionally escaping from the tightly closed door, mixed with a faint smell of alcohol.

The night breeze gently caressed the ancient eaves, seemingly carrying a hint of indescribable warmth.

Former teacher and student, former lovers, amidst alcohol and repressed desires, rekindled their past. Their reunion was not merely an emotional outpouring, but also a further step by Mashiro in gaining control of the game.

What she wanted to observe was not only Ichigo and Aizen, but also the souls she had influenced and changed. In the early morning, the mist in the Seireitei had not yet completely dissipated, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of dew and earth.

Deep within the courtyard of the Shihōin family's residence, the morning light pierced through the shadows of the old woman's trees, and wine spilled onto the tatami mats, the light gentle and warm.

In her half-awake state, Yoruichi felt a familiar coolness quietly slip away from beside her. She slightly opened her eyes and saw Mashiro's hand resting on her shoulder, gentle and carrying a hint of lingering affection.

Yoruichi's cheeks still held traces of the previous night's slumber and pleasure, and her eyes were still slightly dazed.

Mashiro turned her head, her long, dark hair cascading down like a waterfall, obscuring half of her face. Her eyes were deep and calm, as if nothing from the previous night had left a ripple in her heart, or as if she had already deeply hidden that joy.

She lowered her head and gently placed a kiss on Yoruichi's forehead, the movement as slow as a morning breeze.

"It's getting late, little kitty." Mashiro's voice carried a hint of the huskiness unique to early morning, yet it was still alluring. She rose lightly, her movements fluid and graceful, showing no trace of the languor of a hangover.

Yoruichi propped herself up and sat up. Her loose kimono slipped down, revealing a large expanse of fair skin. She watched as Mashiro neatly straightened her clothes, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes.

Last night's indulgence felt like a dream, and Mashiro's aloof attitude always left her with a sense of elusiveness. "Are you leaving again?" Yoruichi's voice carried a hint of weariness.

Mashiro had already donned the haori of the Third Division Captain, its pure white color standing out strikingly in the morning light. She turned back, a mysterious smile playing on her lips as she looked at Yoruichi: "Of course, the Captain-Commander has assigned me a task, I can't let him down." A playful glint flashed in her eyes, as if implying that the so-called task was merely another cover in her eyes.

Yoruichi didn't say anything more, but just watched quietly as Mashiro's figure disappeared into the depths of the courtyard.

Mashiro is always like that, like a gust of wind, coming and going freely, leaving behind a trace that stirs the soul, but never lingering for anyone.

She understood that Mashiro harbored a grander plan, and she herself was perhaps just a pawn on her chessboard, a pawn that was cherished by her but could be discarded at any moment.

Even so, Yoruichi could not deny that her longing and infatuation with Mashiro remained deeply imprinted in the depths of her soul.

"Alright, I should go now. According to Urahara's plan, I should go to Hueco Mundo." Mashiro left the Shihouin family and strolled along the streets of Seireitei, which were gradually becoming more lively.

As the morning light shone brightly, bathing the houses lining the streets in a golden hue, she didn't head directly to the Third Division's barracks, but instead detoured to the edge of the Seireitei.

In a small teahouse, Yuan leisurely sipped a bowl of tea, listening to the idle chatter of the Grim Reapers around her. She enjoyed this brief moment of peace, like a detached bystander, coldly observing everything around her.

It wasn't until the sun was high in the sky that Mashiro leisurely arrived at the Third Division barracks.

Third Division Vice-Captain Kira Izuru Masari stood amidst a mountain of documents, a hint of fatigue on his thin face. Upon seeing Mashiro's figure, he visibly paused for a moment, then stood up and bowed.

"Captain, good morning." Kira Izuru's voice carried a hint of awe. The members of the Third Division all felt an inexplicable pressure towards this new captain.

This being, as "ancient" as the Captain-Commander, is powerful, mysterious, and has an unpredictable style of doing things.

Mashiro casually waved her hand, indicating that he didn't need to be so polite. She glanced around the somewhat deserted barracks, the air filled with the smell of ink and paper, devoid of any life.

"Vice-Captain Izuru, it seems you're having a fulfilling time." Her tone was slightly teasing, causing Kira Izuru's cheeks to flush slightly.

“Yes…yes, Captain.” Kira Izuru answered somewhat awkwardly, “There are many things to do in the team, and Captain, you haven’t been in the barracks for a while…cough.”

Chapter 174: The Beginning (Part 2)

Mashiro chuckled softly, walked to Kira Izuru's desk, casually picked up a document, and flipped through a few pages. The document recorded the recent events in the Seireitei...

The movements of [the organization], as well as some trivial internal reports.

“Alright, you can continue handling these matters.” Mashiro closed the file and put it back in its place. “I’ve already reported to the Captain-Commander that my responsibilities are more about supervision and intervention when necessary. The daily management of the Third Division is entirely your responsibility.” She casually delegated the daily management of the Third Division to Kira Izuru, which surprised and flattered the latter.

"But Captain..." Kira Izuru hesitated.

"No buts." Mashiro interrupted him, her tone gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority. "Trust me, Vice-Captain Izuru,"

You are capable of handling these matters. If any emergency arises that is beyond your capabilities, I will step in.

What she meant was that she would only handle "big events," and had no intention of getting involved in daily trivial matters.

Kira Izuru respectfully agreed, gaining a deeper understanding of the new captain's style of doing things. She seemed to disdain power, yet she exuded an invisible but powerful sense of oppression.

After giving instructions to the Third Division, Mashiro didn't linger. She left the Third Division barracks and headed to the Fourth Division. Her purpose was simple: to have tea and chat with Retsu Unohana.

Throughout the entire Seireitei, Retsu Unohana was one of the few people who could make her feel a sense of equal enjoyment in conversation. Beneath the gentle exterior of this Fourth Division Captain lay a chillingly powerful and unfathomable strength.

Mashiro believed that Retsu Unohana was not entirely loyal, but that her "two hearts" were hidden more deeply, or rather, that her purpose was similar to Mashiro's—a certain pursuit of the ultimate.

When Mashiro arrived at the fourth team's barracks, Retsu Tamago was sitting in a tea room inside, holding a cup of hot tea in her hands. The tea was fragrant, and her expression was as calm and gentle as ever, as if none of the world's disturbances could stir up the slightest ripple in her heart.

"Mashiro, you've come." Retsu Unohana looked up and gave Mashiro a faint smile. The smile had a reassuring power, yet it also made people feel a sense of indescribable distance.

Mashiro sat down opposite her, and Retsu Unohana personally poured her a cup of tea.

"It's rare to see Retsu-chan in such a leisurely mood today." Mashiro picked up her teacup and gently inhaled the aroma of the tea.

Retsu Unohana responded softly, "Enjoying a cup of tea in my spare time can soothe my mind." Her gaze fell on Mashiro, a hint of scrutiny mixed with understanding, "I heard you accepted the appointment as captain of the Third Division?"

"Well, I couldn't refuse Old Wuzi's hospitality," Qi Bai replied casually, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "He always hopes I can get back on the right track."

Egg Flower Retsu smiled slightly, without saying much, and simply took a sip of tea. Of course, she understood the deeper meaning in Mashiro's words, and she also knew that Mashiro's purpose in accepting the appointment was not for the so-called "sense of belonging".

The two chatted idly in the tea room, their conversation ranging from the daily life of Seireitei to the recent unusual events in Hueco Mundo, and then to some historical events. Mashiro observed Retsu Unohana without making a sound, and Retsu Unohana responded to Mashiro in her own unique way.

Their conversation was full of unspoken meanings and deep probing, yet it seemed effortless and serene.

Just then, an unusual spiritual pressure fluctuation suddenly came from above the Seireitei. The fluctuation was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake; although small, it instantly broke the tranquility of the tea room.

Mashiro and Retsu's eyes narrowed simultaneously; their perception of spiritual pressure far exceeded that of ordinary people.

The commotion in Hueco Mundo is getting bigger and bigger. "Mashiro put down her teacup, a hint of interest flashing in her eyes. "It seems my pawns have begun to move." She was referring to Aizen, and the turmoil in Hueco Mundo that Aizen had stirred up.

Retsu Unohana didn't speak, but her eyes became deep, and a subtle sharpness flashed in them.

She stood up, walked to the window of the tea room, and gazed into the void beyond the Seireitei. Meanwhile, in the present world of Karakura Town.

Ichigo Kurosaki was standing in the underground training ground of Urahara Store, his Zanpakuto Zangetsu radiating a spiritual pressure stronger than ever before.

After special training from Mashiro, Yoruichi, and Kisuke Urahara, he has initially mastered the method of fusing the three powers within him: Shinigami, Hollow, and Quincy. "Thump!"

A dull thud echoed from the training ground, and Kisuke Urahara emerged from underground, brandishing his signature folding fan, his expression...

It appeared unusually solemn.

"Ichigo, Yoruichi has already gone to Hueco Mundo." Kisuke Urahara's tone was urgent. "The spiritual pressure fluctuations in Hueco Mundo have suddenly surged, and an ultra-high-density spiritual pressure aggregate is forming. Aizen's mass production of Arrancars has probably entered its final stage!"

Ichigo gripped Zangetsu tightly, the ancient white pattern on the blade's hilt shimmering faintly. He could feel the three powers within him surging, yearning for battle, yearning to be unleashed. "Where are Ishida and the others?" Ichigo asked in a deep voice, his eyes resolute.