Bleach: The Fifth Division Captain

Apologizing.

It was generally understood as an act of expressing remorse for a mistake, acknowledging one's guilt, and seeking forgiveness from the wronged party.

Even the street kids in Rukongai knew this. Seiya, of course, understood it too.

After all, he'd done plenty of apologizing before—sometimes even with an exaggerated knee slide just to get out of trouble.

But still…

There were some people who were simply never meant to apologize.

Seiya stood frozen, staring at Kuchiki Ginrei in disbelief. It took him a while to finally stammer out a response.

"Uh… um, Kuchiki-dono, you really don't have to do this."

After all, this was such a minor issue—one that didn't even involve Ginrei directly.

Having him apologize like this felt… wrong.

It made Seiya incredibly uncomfortable, as if he was about to lose years off his lifespan.

Ginrei, however, remained composed.

"Seiya, this is simply my personal opinion. It has nothing to do with my title or my clan."

Ah, so that's how it is… but still, this isn't right!

If an apology was necessary, it should have come from Byakuya himself. What was the point of someone else apologizing on his behalf?

It just felt… weird.

"Um… don't you think you're making a big deal out of this?"

Seiya knew that was a rude thing to say.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have dared to ask something so bluntly.

But given that he had spent a month living here and Ginrei—while strict—wasn't overly rigid, he figured speaking freely in a private setting was probably acceptable.

However, instead of responding immediately, Ginrei closed his eyes, falling into deep thought.

A few seconds of silence passed.

When he reopened them, his usual stern expression remained, but a faint weariness and helplessness had seeped into his features.

"Seiya…"

His voice carried an exhaustion that words alone couldn't convey.

"Do you remember our first meeting in the guest hall some time ago?"

Seiya thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, I remember."

"The calligraphy that hung on the wall that day—do you recall what it said?"

What a random question…

But not to the point where he couldn't answer.

"It was a… very bold 'Pride' character, right?"

"Indeed."

Ginrei nodded slightly, his expression tightening ever so slightly.

"That 'Pride'—a simplified form of 'Hokori'—is the very essence of the Kuchiki family's spirit."

"Restraint. Self-awareness. Honor."

"Only by understanding these things can one be a true head of the Kuchiki family."

Ah…

Now that he mentioned it—

Byakuya in the original timeline definitely fit this description.

He was always in complete control of his emotions.

Even when he deeply cared about something, he never showed it.

No matter what anyone said, he remained composed—he could even endure Aizen's endless manipulative nonsense without so much as a twitch.

It was admirable in some ways.

In other ways, it was… stubborn.

Like a bull.

And as for pride…

That one hardly needed explaining.

Original Byakuya looked down on everyone.

So this was why he turned out like that.

It was ingrained in him from childhood—a product of his upbringing.

Seiya finally understood.

No wonder Byakuya was that insufferable as an adult.

Everything had been pre-programmed into him from the start.

Suppressing his thoughts, Seiya kept his expression neutral.

"And what are you trying to say, Kuchiki-dono?"

"If my foolish grandson made a mistake, it is my responsibility to bear it. Any apology he should have given—it falls to me to say it in his stead."

Because—

"Byakuya is the future head of the Kuchiki family. Even if he is in the wrong, it is not his place to apologize."

"No matter how strong I may seem now, in the end, I am merely an old relic waiting to be replaced."

"My dignity is irrelevant. Byakuya's, however, is not."

In other words—

"The next head of the Kuchiki family is never wrong."

Whoa…

Hearing Ginrei say this in such a steady, emotionless tone made Seiya inwardly shudder.

So this is why Byakuya turned out the way he did.

Seiya was staring at the source of the problem.

"I suppose, from your perspective, my reasoning must be difficult to understand."

Ginrei's sudden statement caught Seiya off guard.

"Uh… well, I, uh…"

"You don't have to force an answer."

Ginrei took a sip of tea, his gaze shifting toward the window.

"What is dignity? What is the point of preserving something so intangible?"

"Aren't people supposed to live for themselves?"

"Why should we care so much about the opinions of others? What value is there in such a constrained, burdensome existence?"

Wait.

Seiya's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

Ginrei—Kuchiki Ginrei—had once thought like this?

He had once questioned everything?

Seeing Seiya's stunned expression, Ginrei smirked slightly.

"No need to look so shocked. I was young once. The same thoughts that you have now—I had them centuries ago."

Right…

Time gives people answers.

"It wasn't until I became head of the Kuchiki family that I truly understood."

"Dignity, if left unguarded, will be trampled upon."

"A noble family, if careless, will be slandered and ridiculed."

"It is like an ancient bronze statue—weathered by time, fragile, rusting away."

"But as its descendants, we cannot simply watch as it crumbles into dust."

"We must polish it, maintain it, and protect its legacy."

"As the head of the Kuchiki family, it is my duty to uphold this burden—fully and without hesitation."

"In the distant future, perhaps the Kuchiki name will fade. Perhaps no one will respect us anymore."

"But that time is not now. And as long as we hold this title, it is our duty to uphold its meaning."

Ginrei spoke with unwavering conviction.

But after he finished, a faint, bitter smile formed on his lips.

"I once believed I could see through the hypocrisy of it all… but in the end, I have become accustomed to it."

For a moment, Seiya had no idea what to say.

Ginrei's words contradicted themselves.

He knew that these things were ultimately meaningless.

But at the same time, as the leader of the Kuchiki family, he chose to uphold them regardless.

It was… tragic.

Perhaps Yoruichi had the right idea—her way of living seemed freer.

…Or maybe not.

After all, Yoruichi was different.

Her talent was extraordinary.

By merging the Onmitsukidō and the Second Division, she expanded her clan's influence rather than restricting it.

Even in an era of relative peace, that was a remarkable achievement.

She was exceptional.

So maybe it wasn't fair to compare her to Ginrei.

Still…

Seiya set his teacup down and asked cautiously,

"Wouldn't it be better if you just… explained this to Byakuya?"

Ginrei sighed deeply.

"You do not understand, Seiya."

"I have already made too many mistakes in my life."

"I had a proud but arrogant son-in-law. I wanted to guide him away from reliance on power… but in the end, I failed, and he fell into darkness."

"I had a gentle, kind-hearted son. He disliked conflict, yet I pushed him to use his talents. He died as a result."

"I… have always made the wrong choices."

Seiya suddenly understood.

Ginrei was speaking of Kuchiki Sōjun—Byakuya's father.

A soft-spoken man, unsuited for battle.

And yet, forced onto the path of a warrior… he died.

Ginrei, despite all his wisdom and strength, had always failed as a father.

So now—

He had given up on guiding Byakuya directly.

Instead—

"Seiya, I have a request."

Ginrei's eyes locked onto Seiya's, filled with a rare sense of hope.

"Please—guide Byakuya."

"As a friend. As a mentor. As his senior."

"Teach him what is right."

Seiya inhaled deeply.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

"…Understood."

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