Musū No Myūzu

The small, polite smile on Mukuro's lips faltered for a split when she was accosted if she was honest。 Not one to have a hot head really, but Mukuro wasn't really ever too stoked when someone came at her kind of sideways, but she was quick to remind herself that she was a bit in the wrong here so maybe, just maybe, it was warranted。

「I was looking for you, actually, and was directed to go in this direction。」 Now Mukuro did, of course, read the signage dictating her not to go here, but deliberately chose to ignore them。 If she got written up for it, fine, whatever, she was given a task and she was going to complete it as swiftly as possible so she could get back to her bankai training。

「You weren't at the last women's association meeting, so I was tasked to make sure you get these forms。」 Mukuro said as she held out the forms in question, something along the lines of suggestions on what their next fundraiser should be among other things。

"I see," she said, though her voice still carrying a hint of authority. "I was indeed absent from the last meeting. Unforeseen circumstances with the squad required my attention elsewhere." With a hint of curiosity now mixed with her vigilance, Rukia flipped through the pages briefly, confirming their authenticity. "Very well," she finally said, handing the forms back. "You may inform them that I have received their message... and I appreciate your diligence in delivering it."

    “Ohh? My my, Aizen-san, I didn’t realize there were things even you don’t already know!” he says, with exaggerated awe, waving his fan in emphasis of the words. “As for what it suggests of me— it could suggest any number of things; but whether any of them would be true, is another matter entirely, of course!”   He laughs then, tapping his chin with an edge of his now snapped shut fan. “What truth do you perceive, is the real question, isn’t it?”

          What a flippant man. — Was that the perception Urahara Kisuke wished to craft with the intention to fool him of all individuals? Perhaps this was this ultimately negligent man’s most lofty ambition yet, falling short of his utter failure with the Hōgyoku. Naturally, such details were irrelevant for the time being. But Urahara no longer concerned himself with relevancy if his actions spoke more volume than his words.

          It was no matter. — This man had deigned to visit the Muken once more, and that statement was the essence of truth in its conciseness alone. There existed no other perception that could deprive that fact of its matter, and so Aizen shall not entertain such and be led astray when the appearance of Urahara Kisuke before his throne of a cage was adequate. Perhaps even sufficient if such a word could ever be applied to this man.

          “You ask what truth I perceive whilst providing sufficient evidence for a certain truth, and thus rendering my prior words to you absolute,” Aizen stated with confidence; interpret the definition of the term as one may. “Very well. — I shall gladly reiterate for you in simpler terms, observing that you are incapable of recognizing the irony: You elect to retain your silence on certain matters and offer divergence with evasion.” And cowardice. “I expected no less from you, Urahara Kisuke.”

          A silence, then. Would it unsettle; shift the pieces upon the metaphorical chessboard of neither black nor white, but varying grays that their conversations and perspectives had locked them upon?

          Aizen wondered.