After having set up Uryu, he planned to continue setting up his cousin later—actually, not cousin. Brother. They were related. Half-brothers. They had the same dad.
Heh, Sora had three dads, so it wasn't the usual 1/2 related thing. Adding Aizen, it would be 1/3. Then adding the Soul King? 1/4. The variable known as his mom never changed—the fact still stood.
Uryu wasn't Kaede's kid. If he was, that 1/4 would've been 2/4. Sad.
Oh well. The only plan left now was Uryu giving backshots to Nemu. Sora planned to bring Mayuri's soul to watch... for reasons.
He didn't hate the man. He would never hate such a righteous soul, and he put that on every reader's soul. {Especially the ones that comment—not their soul}.
Hahahah, so much power. He wondered if he should help the other guy though. Author was sleep-deprived. Maybe he could find a way to help. Plus, it's not like the guy actually edits his chapters anymore—he's got the AI to do that. All he really does is write the shit.
So, considering he probably would be asleep—
{Sora... the fourth wall.}
Oh yeah... well, back to his stuff.
Rukia stepped inside, brushing a bit of ash off her uniform. She smelled faintly like sakura petals and bureaucratic stress. Her eyes carried that tired weight of someone who'd just finished diplomacy with nobles who still used the word peasants unironically.
And then—
Before she could even blink or react, Sora slammed into her like a missile made of love and no survival instincts.
Arms wrapped around her waist, lips on hers before she even had time to finish saying, "I'm back."
"Mnn—Sora!" she mumbled between kisses, face reddening like someone just caught her reading something scandalous in public.
"Mmm. Nope. Shut up. I'm happy. Let me be happy," he muttered right against her lips, then kissed her again—slower this time, his hands sliding into her hair.
He pulled back only slightly, his forehead resting on hers, that smug, sappy smile of his glowing like the damn sun.
"I missed you," he said simply.
She exhaled.
"...I missed you too."
He was happy. His Almighty, which for some reason over the past few days had been permanently on—yes, as in, it never went out, even when he was sleeping—his dreams were alternate futures and realities.
Even his Almighty, for this instant, seemed to calm down. Even with an infinite reality in front of him, she was what mattered to him.
She was curled into his side, sipping tea. He was playing with her hair like it was a sacred ritual.
"So how's Soul Society? Still full of crusty old nobles who think emotions are a threat to national security?"
Rukia sighed. "You have no idea. The Tsunayashiro family is dead."
"...Oh nooo, what a tragic and totally unplanned development," Sora said, with the fakest tone known to man, god, or Quincy.
Rukia narrowed her eyes. "...You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
"Huh? Me? Baby, I'm like... love and light. Sunshine and justice. An innocent bystander with abs."
She kept staring.
He blinked. "Okay, if I did it—and that's a big if here, 'cause how could I possibly do it—it would've been clean. Professional. Possibly poetic."
"..."
"Also no witnesses. So technically, it never happened."
Rukia sighed again, rubbing her temple.
"Well, whoever definitely didn't do it, now there's a massive power vacuum. The other noble houses are circling like sharks in Armani robes. The Kuchiki are trying to play neutral, but they're dragging me into half of it."
Sora frowned, his arms tightening around her waist.
"Oh yeah, forgot you're still a noble," he said, his teeth biting her neck.
She chuckled. Just a bit. "Well, apparently you're being summoned too."
"...Me?"
"Yep."
Sora tilted his head. "What did I do?"
"Something about you being related to Aizen... and some of the remaining nobility thinking you should be punished for, quote, 'inherited treason.'"
"...Wow," Sora said. "That is Grade-A bullshit. If that's the kind of shit they want to pull... I have stuff to make them silent," he said calmly, fully downloading the First Sin into his mind and planning to livestream it to the whole Soul Society.
Fuck those assholes. Seriously. Fuck them. And frankly? Hop off their meat. If his girlfriend wasn't a Soul Reaper, he would more than likely not tolerate them as much, after what he saw, what those people have done.
Caillou with a headset dent was only alive because of the status quo. And also because Yhwach's the one who needs to kill him—not Sora.
He's the one that practically cucked Yhwach a thousand years ago by making his kingdom bend over and have Yamamoto rawdog that shit.
He suddenly sat up, pulling her into his lap like it was his right by divine decree.
"Screw them," he said.
Then kissed her again—this time, deep and with that rare hint of desperation he usually kept locked behind sarcasm and explosions.
"I don't care if I get summoned," he muttered against her lips. "I've already decided. If they try something, I'll just rewrite the laws of Soul Society. Literally."
"That's a crime."
"So is being hot. Yet here you are."
She blushed hard. "You're ridiculous."
"You're pretty. Let's kiss again."
And so they did.
—
He loved her, okay? She wasn't as attractive by conditional means and some people probably found a lot of others more conventionally beautiful, but he liked her. She made him feel happy, and that was all he cared about.
Speaking of which—
"Krieg. Tod. Absturz. Verloren."
S/N Author next chapter should be at 12 or so, so he has 2 chapter out for today and tomorow, same will be done for the other guy, double upload, 1 for the missed monday and tuesday.
See ya.