Bleach: The Fifth Division Captain

Life is as fragile as glass.

Like the morning dew that vanishes with the sun, or a fleeting bloom that fades as quickly as it appears.

Even after leaving the Research and Development Bureau, Seiya Arima's expression remained tense and unsettled.

It was difficult to say whether it was due to his lingering thoughts about the late "Sleeper No. 6" or if he was simply feeling unusually melancholic.

"Seiya-kun, Seiya-kun?"

A familiar voice pulled him from his reverie.

"Ah… I'm here!"

It was already the evening of the following day.

Seiya had arrived at the agreed meeting spot — the small shop on the ground floor of the academy — to meet with Aizen.

As always, Aizen's demeanor was calm, but his gaze softened as he studied Seiya.

"You seem distracted. Is something troubling you?"

Seiya instinctively prepared to brush off the concern.

"It's nothing worth mentioning…"

Yet, as the words reached the tip of his tongue, he found himself hesitating.

Aizen was someone who always seemed to know more than he let on. Given Mayuri's notoriety in the Research Bureau, it was likely that Aizen was already aware of the recent developments in Mayuri's experiments.

Keeping things from him would only appear petty.

"It's about something related to Mayuri-san," Seiya admitted.

Aizen listened quietly as Seiya recounted the events in a concise manner, nodding thoughtfully before gently adjusting his glasses.

"I see. So the 'Sleeper Project' has progressed further. That is indeed promising news. The pursuit of knowledge, no matter how perilous, is a courageous endeavor."

Aizen's tone was steady, his words carrying a sense of quiet admiration.

"In a world like the Soul Society, those willing to explore uncharted territory are rare. Mayuri's achievements, as eccentric as they may be, are proof of his talent."

Then, Aizen's gaze grew sharper, his next question piercing through Seiya's thoughts.

"But tell me, Seiya-kun… Are you grieving for Sleeper No. 6?"

Seiya lowered his eyes, his fingers fidgeting slightly.

"…I suppose… I do feel something. A little, at least."

"There's no shame in that," Aizen said softly. "Feeling empathy for the loss of life is a natural response. It's a mark of what makes us sentient beings."

Aizen sat down beside Seiya, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I once told you that those who wield deadly weapons must never falter in their resolve. But that doesn't mean we are executioners."

"To understand the value of life — to treasure it even as you take it — is, in itself, a profound truth."

"There is no shame in compassion, Seiya-kun. There are those who kill with cruelty, but there are also those who kill with mercy. Both paths exist."

Aizen's words were soothing.

Seiya took a deep breath, his mind beginning to settle as he processed everything.

Then, Aizen pushed his glasses up once more, his voice carrying a reflective tone.

"In truth, it's no surprise that you would feel this way."

"…What do you mean?"

Aizen's smile deepened, though his gaze remained enigmatic.

"You've heard me say before that a Zanpakutō is the manifestation of a Shinigami's soul."

"Yes."

Aizen leaned in slightly, his expression unwavering.

"Some Shinigami appear warm and approachable on the outside, but their Zanpakutō reveals their true nature — cold and distant."

"No matter how perfect or indestructible their facade may seem, the soul's essence remains unchanged."

"No Shinigami can lie to their own heart."

Seiya frowned slightly, unsure of where Aizen was leading.

Sensing the confusion, Aizen's smile took on a more playful edge.

"Seiya-kun, have you ever wondered about the true nature of your Zanpakutō?"

"…What do you mean?"

"You've released your sword, haven't you? But have you ever met its spirit?"

The question struck Seiya like a thunderclap.

"I… I haven't."

"That's unusual," Aizen remarked with interest. "While every Shinigami's journey with their Zanpakutō varies, one thing remains consistent: the spirit of the sword must exist."

"In fact, the bond between Shinigami and Zanpakutō is a core principle of their power."

Aizen's eyes gleamed with intrigue as he continued.

"The fact that you've achieved release without encountering your sword's spirit suggests something… unique."

He let the implication hang in the air for a moment before delivering his final point.

"Your Zanpakutō is called Ouroboros, isn't it? Quite an intriguing name."

Seiya nodded slowly.

"But have you ever considered the possibility… that this isn't your sword's true name?"

Seiya's eyes widened in shock.

"…What?"

"Think about it," Aizen continued, his tone patient yet persuasive.

"The name you've been using — Ouroboros — may only be a facade. A reflection of what you wish to see."

"But deep within… the true name of your sword remains hidden. Unknown."

A heavy silence fell between them.

Seiya's gaze dropped to his Zanpakutō, resting at his waist.

If that's true… then what is your real name?

But there was no response.

No whisper from the blade. No sign of the spirit within.

Aizen's voice broke the silence.

"Of course, this is merely a hypothesis. But it's one worth exploring."

He adjusted his glasses again, his expression thoughtful.

"Every Shinigami's Zanpakutō reflects their inner self — their fears, desires, and truth. But your case, Seiya-kun, is different."

Aizen's smile returned, sharper than before.

"Perhaps the reason you haven't fully unlocked your sword's power… is because you haven't fully confronted your own truth."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

Seiya sat in contemplative silence, his mind swirling with questions.

In truth, he had always known there was something incomplete about his connection to his Zanpakutō.

But now, he couldn't ignore it any longer.

The answer lay within.

And the only way to find it…

Was to confront the unknown.

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