Central 46 was notorious for its rigid conservatism and inflexibility.
Though they lacked solid evidence, the sages had already made up their minds—Gosuke Shigure, Vice-Captain of the 11th Division, was an accomplice in Kenpachi Shuangya's crimes.
The shadowed chamber echoed with successive interrogations. One by one, each of the forty sages and six judges pressed questions upon Gosuke Shigure.
Their tone was sharp, accusatory, and devoid of civility.
They hurled suspicions at him with unrelenting force, not necessarily to discover the truth—but to assert their presence.
Perhaps it was a compensation. Before Kenpachi Shuangya, who had confessed with complete composure and clarity, the entire assembly of Central 46 had seemed almost powerless. He had dominated the room not with violence, but with the bluntness of his surrender.
And most galling of all: they had known nothing of his crimes until he revealed them.
To be exposed like that—not by discovery, but by confession—had undermined their supposed omniscience.
Now, with Gosuke Shigure suspected of abetting a massive crime, they were determined to reclaim control.
They interrogated not to discover the truth, but to reaffirm their authority.
To show Soul Society that Central 46 remained the highest authority—the embodiment of justice and wisdom.
But Gosuke Shigure didn't yield.
Through every question, every insinuation, his composure never faltered.
He denied any participation in Shuangya's actions.
When asked why he had been found at the scene of the confrontation with Shuangya, he offered an explanation.
He had grown suspicious of Captain Shuangya's recent behavior. After being privately briefed by Captain-Commander Kyoraku about the unexplained disappearances in Rukongai, Gosuke began monitoring Shuangya's movements.
Eventually, he tracked him to the outskirts of North Rukongai's Zaraki District—just as Shuangya was attacking wandering souls.
Upon confrontation, Shuangya had turned on him.
With no other choice, Gosuke defended himself. Their clash was inevitable.
In his telling, he was not a conspirator, but a whistleblower. A witness. A protector.
A hero.
But Central 46 didn't accept this so easily.
Not because his words were impossible—but because they had already passed silent judgment.
To acknowledge Gosuke's defense would be to admit a lapse in their own oversight.
To side with him would be to question their own infallibility.
And so the interrogation continued.
But for all their fire, Central 46 was still bound by certain rules.
They could not torture Gosuke Shigure.
They had no confession. No evidence.
Their relentless questioning produced nothing.
Eventually, the old voices began to dull. Even the relentless sages grew weary of the fruitless effort.
So they reached a temporary resolution.
Gosuke Shigure would be held in Shishinrō—the Palace of Repentance.
There, he would await retrial.
The same prison that once held Rukia Kuchiki.
A place built to house high-ranking Shinigami awaiting execution or deliberation.
Its environment was infamous among the Gotei 13. The inner walls were laced with sekkiseki stone, known to suppress spiritual power entirely.
This suppression was worsened by the spiritual density of Seireitei itself.
To those without adequate reiatsu, simply existing within the inner court was oppressive. Like being submerged beneath pressure.
In fact, centuries ago, Byakuya Kuchiki's late wife Hisana—an ordinary soul from the outer Rukongai—had succumbed to illness in part because she could not adapt to Seireitei's environment.
But a Shinigami's natural spiritual power usually served as a buffer.
Unless, of course, that power was forcibly sealed.
As it now was for Gosuke Shigure.
Stripped of his Zanpakutō and bound by sekkiseki, he felt that pressure. It pressed down on his lungs, his limbs, his very thoughts.
"A strange sensation," he murmured.
He had never expected to know what it was like to sit as a prisoner.
Even so, he did not consider this true despair.
Because it wasn't over.
There were still ways this could shift.
He waited—not passively, but with patience. If the tide turned, he would be ready.
And if it didn't...
Then he would find another way out.
After all, Soul Society was not the only world that existed.
Hueco Mundo. The World of the Living. The precipice world. Even Hell.
Even without his Zanpakutō. Even with spiritual power sealed.
He was not helpless.
In his past life, he had lived long and seen much. Though he had fallen to "reckless waves" in the end, he had survived worse storms than this.
All he ever wanted was a quiet life.
But if Soul Society refused to allow that peace, he would not hesitate to shatter the illusion.
Time passed.
Half a month slipped by inside the Palace of Repentance.
No visitors came.
But Gosuke Shigure was no Kuchiki.
Rukia Kuchiki, when she had been imprisoned, was still a noble of the Kuchiki Clan—even if her name was adopted. Visits had been permitted. Some leniency granted.
Which is why her sentence at the time—execution by Sōkyoku—had shocked many in Soul Society.
It had seemed disproportionate, even absurd.
And ultimately, it had been a lie.
Central 46 had already been slaughtered by Sōsuke Aizen at that point, and the false judgment was just a means to claim Rukia's body—for the Hōgyoku hidden within her.
But that was then.
This was now.
And Gosuke Shigure was no noble. He had no political allies. No favor.
So he remained alone.
But he did not despair.
He sat quietly in the cold, reiryoku-suppressing chamber.
He meditated. Reflected.
And waited.
No retrial came.
But he could guess why.
Central 46 was not yet finished collecting evidence.
They were likely working with the Gotei 13 to investigate everything Shuangya had done.
And indeed, the Gotei 13 had been shaken.
When Captain-Commander Kyoraku held a formal emergency meeting of all captains, the revelations were shared.
Kenpachi Shuangya's crimes were no longer merely suspected disappearances.
They constituted a direct threat to the balance of souls between the three realms: the Human World, Soul Society, and Hueco Mundo.
This was a fundamental law of the cosmos. Disturbing that balance could collapse the cycle of death and rebirth.
When the full scope of the charges was laid bare, shock rippled through every division.
But nowhere was it felt more deeply than in the 11th Division.
For over a year, the members of the 11th had slowly accepted Kenpachi Shuangya.
They had fought under him. Respected him.
Believed that, though he was unconventional, he carried the title of Kenpachi with honor.
And now they had to reckon with the truth.
He had not been a replacement for Zaraki Kenpachi.
He had been a criminal.
And Gosuke Shigure—his vice-captain—was now accused as well.
Yet no one came to the Palace of Repentance to check on him.
Because in the eyes of most, Gosuke was either condemned—or irrelevant.
But "forgotten" was not the same as "abandoned."
Even if no one visited, that didn't mean no one remembered Gosuke Shigure.