In the days when the Goteijusantai followed their founder, and always had they, the shinigami began to lose the knowledge of their forefathers, that of what they protected, and the full brunt of understanding how thin the line between existing and not existing truly was. All of existence had come together in a very specific, perfect manner, almost as if by some happy accident, yet all the same, it was balanced on the edge of a knife. Life would continue; life was tenacious that way, and rarely did it meet a wall it couldn't eventually surmount. Existence, on the other hand, was a very different beast, even if it seemed the two coincided, or were even one and the same.
The early shinigami had eventually decided to try using the Soul King as a personal power source. Kasaya had always wondered what, exactly, had possessed them to come to such conclusion, but she'd not wondered too hard. Sometimes, wondering such things merely gave her a migraine, and perhaps even more questions than before. The Goteijusantai's founder was ostensibly about as likely to come to the same conclusion they did, and Kasaya had not trusted him with that particular level of knowledge. He knew enough to know the Soul King needed to be protected. That was all he needed, and during his tenure, he'd done quite a decent job of ensuring the Soul King was exactly that.
It'd built, eventually, the King's Dimension around itself, and the Sotaichou had sent many a good shinigami to protect it over the years. One, however, nearly breached that seemingly impenetrable defence for the first time in thousands of years, for the first time ever, but only one. All soldiers failed, sooner or later. Kasaya knew that. This Sotaichou, however, knew even less of the Soul King than his predecessor, but did not possess the hunger for power, as slight as the former Sotaichou's might've been. It seemed, even, he had a strange almost-reverence of it, as if power itself were something to be feared. Certainly, he was more intelligent than some. Perhaps, then, he could handle the knowledge to a further extent than those that came before him. Kasaya had watched, for a bit around twenty years, now, to determine whether he was or not.
In the end, she'd reached her conclusion. Such was how she ended up crossing the Ichibantai's courtyard, striding purposefully down the halls of the barracks, turning the correct corners, despite seemingly never having been here before, and walking right into the captain's office. She'd waited until an opportune moment on purpose, of course; it'd gone this long. It could stand to wait the few more hours until he was able to leave for an unknown period of time. Trips to Civir never lasted a split second, on this end.
For a moment, she stood in the doorway, watching in that expressionless manner she usually did. Then, she said, "I suppose I should start with, do you even remember my name?" It was possible he didn't. She'd been there since before even him; but time stretched on, and memories faded.