Bleach: Starting as a Vasto Lorde

Chapter 158: Unyielding

‘I’m tired of being too good at everything. I’ll take a week off to hopefully lower my skills and let everyone catch up… who am I kidding? You will never be my equal. No one will be.’

Every day Rukia was forced to see this elegantly written message left by her friend. Her roommate had stuck the message on her side of the room. This wasn’t even the worst part of having Momo Hinamori as her roommate. Rukia had to watch Momo kiss Kazuya’s portrait before sleeping. She had to watch Momo sleep naked in Kazuya’s kimono, which she had stolen from his room. She had to watch Momo write something in her diary while giggling like an idiot.

Fiercely loyal and devoted, Momo was the best friend one could ask for. At the same time, she was the worst roommate one could genuinely have.

“It’s the eighth day…” Momo whispered, gazing lovingly at Kazuya’s sketch drawn by her own hands. “Kazuya-kun, come back already. Life is colorless without you…”

Rukia exhaled a tired breath. “Why do you love him despite the reputation he has garnered? He is rumored to be dating multiple third-years.”

In Rukia’s eyes, Kazuya was a great friend due to his mentoring nature and his trait of protecting his friends at any cost. He had single-handedly stopped many nobles from beating up Renji, whose harsh tongue got him into conflicts every other week. Despite his great character, he would never be boyfriend material due to his single glaring flaw — his hedonism.

Momo stared at Rukia as if she was the most stupid person in the world. “He was using them to fix the oddity with his Zanpakutō.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!”

Momo chuckled. “It does. He felt nothing for them, and they confirmed as much.”

“You spoke to them?”

“I made friends with them over the last few days,” Momo said with a cheeky grin. “Through our little chats, I discovered Kazuya-kun’s preferred style.”

Momo swiftly pulled out the ribbons keeping her twin tails in place. After a couple of minutes of styling, she looked at Rukia with a grin. “All of them looked old. Do I look more mature?”

Rukia was at a loss of words. “A little.”

“I’ll grow my hair more and do a single ponytail.” Momo giggled and kissed Kazuya’s portrait. “Let’s leave. Kazuya-kun might be in class already. I can’t wait to show him my progress!”

“Momo, your obsession is unhealthy. This relationship is unhealthy.”

Despite knowing it could drive a wedge between them, Rukia spoke her mind in an attempt to steer Momo away from blindly loving Kazuya and getting hurt in the process.

The room’s air stiffened as Momo’s eyes dimmed, a chilly aura emanating from her. “How can you say that when you don’t know a single thing about love?”

To Momo, her feelings were sacred. She felt warmth when she thought of him, terror at the thought of any misfortune befalling him, joy when by his side or upon seeing his smile, motivation when contemplating impressing him, and ecstasy at the thought of intimacy with him.

He had given her the opportunity to feel so many wonderful emotions. She would give up on life rather than return to her previous loveless self.

Rukia took a long pause before replying, “You’re right… I’ve never been in love or met someone who is. Still, I am entitled to give my opinion as a friend.”

“Then I have the right to deny your opinion and pursue what makes me happy.”

Rukia’s shoulders drooped under Momo’s unyielding attitude. “I’m from the 78th District… you should know how chaotic and violent that place is. Stealing food and then surviving the chase — every day was kind of a fun struggle, now that I look back on it.”

Rukia’s life was quite the opposite of Momo, who lived a little too peacefully with Oba-san and Toshiro. The peace gave birth to the fantasies of a thrilling life like those fairy tales her Oba-san read to her and Toshiro.

“I’ll explain the rest with a drawing.” Rukia snatched the portrait from Momo and scribbled on its back. She slammed it on the bed, looking proud of the result. “Check this.”

Momo furrowed her brow as she glanced between the uncharacteristically cute drawing of a rabbit chasing its shadow in a circle and Rukia's earnest eyes. “You ruined my forty-eighth Kazuya-kun portrait for rabbits... Why are you so cruel?”

“...There was a common saying in our District, ‘Chasing shadows will keep you busy but never give you fulfillment.’”

“I don’t get your meaning. What do rabbits and shadows have to do with me?”

“Your obsession with Kazuya is like that,” Rukia explained, clearing her throat. “It’ll keep you busy but you’ll go nowhere with him. He doesn’t view intimate relationships as you do…”

“I’ll change him,” Momo said with raw confidence. “My love will transform him.”

…

As the morning lessons concluded, Momo found herself sitting in the cafeteria amid the clinking of cutlery and the whispered conversations of her peers. Kazuya’s absence had left a void in her heart.

“Why is Kazuya-kun punishing me?”

The table she shared with Renji, Rukia, and Toshiro was otherwise unaffected by Momo’s gloom, with her companions continuing their meal as usual. It was clear that they had become accustomed to Momo’s tantrums over Kazuya’s unexpected vacation.

Momo’s gaze sank to her untouched plate, a display of her dwindling will to engage with the world without Kazuya’s presence. Her appetite, it seemed, had wandered off in search of him.

Toshiro slid the plate towards her. “Use this as an opportunity to train your Zanpakutō. The stronger you become, the more impressive his surprise will be.”

A flicker of life returned in Momo’s eyes. “Who told you I was training to impress him?”

Renji’s laughter rippled across the table. “You thought we won’t notice your late evening disappearances?”

Rukia cleared her throat. “I didn’t—”

Suddenly, a hush fell over the cafeteria, a silence forced upon them by a sudden and oppressive Reiatsu that smothered everyone with its intensity.

Rukia noticed a group of four Shinigami entering the cafeteria. The two at the rear were unremarkable, but the two Shinigami leading the group caught her attention.

An elderly man with a thick gray mustache and long gray hair — his Reiatsu was contained unlike the young man but his Shinigami uniform betrayed his prestigious status in the Gotei 13.

‘A Captain…’

With the captain was a gray-eyed young man, cold and detached, his Reiatsu so formidable that it struck terror into everyone in the cafeteria. It wasn't directed at anyone; his presence alone was simply that intimidating. The intricate headpiece ‘kenseikan’ nestled in his long black hair indicated his noble heritage.

‘Why is he coming to us?!’

She held her breath, hoping the Shinigami would pass by her table. Contrary to her hopes, they halted before her.

“She bears a striking resemblance to her,” the elderly man whispered, looking down at Rukia. “Forgive the interruption, but Student Rukia, you must accompany us to the Kuchiki Manor on urgent business.”

The mention of the Kuchiki name sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. The nobility of the Soul Society was a frequent topic among their teachers. The Kuchiki Clan, one of the Five Great Noble Families, was charged with compiling and safeguarding the history of the Soul Society, and its clan head served as the Captain of the 6th Division.

The elderly man talking to her was Ginrei Kuchiki, the 27th Head of the Kuchiki Clan and the Captain of the 6th Squad.

Rukia’s mind was racing, anxious about what awaited her. The Kuchiki's reputation was untarnished, but her experiences at the academy had taught her to be wary of any noble family. Moreover, the Kuchikis were influential, so much so that she doubted even Kazuya would dare to offend them.

“Girl, did you not hear Captain Kuchiki?” growled one of the burly men accompanying Ginrei Kuchiki. “Rise and follow us.”

Rukia tried to speak, but her words were trapped by a knot of anxiety and unvoiced queries. She rose, but her legs trembled, like a lamb surrounded by wolves.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of deliberate footsteps cut through the quiet. Wide-eyed, Rukia turned toward the newcomer. A familiar figure strode into the cafeteria with an unhurried pace, almost dismissive in the face of the overwhelming figures that dominated the space.

“You all call yourselves nobles and gang up on a young lady. Pathetic.”

She was wrong about Kazuya.