Watching Inoue Toshiki lead him into the Seireitei's 1st Division barracks without encountering any guards, Kensei Kenzuru inwardly grumbled:
*Wow, the mighty 1st Division doesn't even have a doorman? What if an assassin comes to sneak-attack Old Man Yamamoto?*
But then he reconsidered—Well, maybe it really isn't necessary. Enemies who could actually fight their way into the 1st Division wouldn't be stopped by a guard anyway; and those who couldn't get in wouldn't need guarding in the first place.
Having obtained prior permission, Inoue Toshiki slid the wooden door open and led Kensei before Yamamoto Genryūsai. He cleared his throat and reported respectfully, "Captain-Commander, the Shin'ō Spiritual Arts Academy student, Kensei Kenzuru, has been brought before you."
After speaking, he stepped straight back to the side, quietly awaiting further orders.
Kensei stole a glance at the old man, who either had very small eyes or was meditating with them closed, and then began idly examining the room's furnishings. Aizen-sama had long since laid bare the Captain-Commander's intentions; today was purely a formality.
The room wasn't small, but its furnishings were simple. On a small wooden table near the outer wall lay several calligraphy manuscripts—though Kensei knew nothing about the art, he could still tell the old man had quite refined tastes.
Yamamoto had been appraising this young man, capable of wounding Unohana, since he entered the room. A true master of the sword couldn't hide it; a veteran Shinigami could judge one's depth just from their stance and breathing. If not for Inoue and Unohana both confirming this boy was a beginner, Yamamoto would have suspected he was the reincarnation of some ancient relic from a thousand years ago.
"Kensei Kenzuru, are you willing to graduate early and join my 1st Division as a seated officer?"
The offer was not insubstantial. A seat in the 1st Division carried significant weight; high-seated officers there possessed strength comparable to Vice-Captains of other divisions. Moreover, being directly under Yamamoto's command meant other Captains generally couldn't order him around.
Inoue Toshiki immediately understood this was the Captain-Commander's intention to cultivate him as a key asset and quickly tried to catch Kensei's eye. To his surprise, Kensei shook his head almost without hesitation.
His impression of Old Man Yamamoto wasn't bad; he knew the man's heart was truly for the Soul Society, he was just a bit stubborn—maybe all old people were like that. His main worry was that if he joined the 1st Division, he might not get along with the old man.
"Has someone else already promised you better terms?"
Yamamoto's eyes remained narrowed. A young man with such potential couldn't possibly have gone unnoticed. Especially since he had only shown talent in Zanjutsu among the "Four Shinigami Arts." What if his other aspects were also…?
If it were the Kuchiki or Shihōin families, it might be one thing, but if it were others…
Yamamoto's grip on his cane tightened slightly, his eyes opening a slit. Inoue Toshiki, who had been carefully observing his expression, instantly broke out in a cold sweat.
"That's not it…"
Kensei was also a bit troubled. The real reason was hard to voice. If only Sōsuke were here, he could definitely spin a flawless excuse.
"Speak plainly. I am no devil. There is no need for fear."
Inoue Toshiki was now praying fervently: Ancestor, please, for the love of all that is holy, don't say anything treasonous! My century-old reputation as an instructor is on the line!
"Captain-Commander, you know I haven't been in the Soul Society for long, right?"
Yamamoto nodded. Naturally, he had conducted investigations before meeting him.
"And you see… I'm still pretty young, right?"
Yamamoto nodded again. Objectively speaking, this kid's looks were indeed outstanding, but something about his tone felt familiar… it was eerily reminiscent of his own unreliable senior disciple, Kyōraku Shunsui.
Not sure, need to observe more.jpg
"Captain-Commander, the defining characteristic of youth is 'youthful vigor and impetuousness.' Therefore, I request to join the 2nd Division, the 4th Division, or the 12th Division—to temper my body and mind!"
Yamamoto completely understood now.
Good grief, it's another Kyōraku Shunsui, perhaps even surpassing the original! Back then, Kyōraku was just all talk, but this one is planning to 'immerse himself at the grassroots level' directly!
The 2nd Division was, in a way, the Shihōin family's private army. The 4th Division was primarily for healing. Their common point?—a high proportion of female Shinigami. As for the 12th Division, wasn't Captain Kirio Hikifune still there?!
"You certainly have… lofty ambitions."
"Not at all, not at all. So… is it a deal?"
Yamamoto, who usually cultivated a heart as calm as water through calligraphy practice, now felt not only irritation but a twinge of powerlessness. Kyōraku had already lost half the Gotei 13's face; with a Kensei Kenzuru added to the mix, would they have to disband on the spot?
Do all geniuses have this proclivity? But Ukitake, he… oh right, he's frail. Even if he had the heart, he lacks the strength.
Yamamoto's train of thought, a rare occurrence, derailed, even quietly pondering his own honest student. Far away in the 13th Division barracks, Jūshirō Ukitake suddenly sneezed.
Ahem, I understand your intent. However, this matter requires discussion with the respective Captains before a decision can be made.
Yamamoto employed a tactical cough, deploying the delay tactic. There was no helping it; he didn't know how to respond at the moment.
"Your joining the Gotei 13 will be postponed for now. However, you may come here regularly. If you have questions regarding your training, I can offer some guidance."
Inoue Toshiki, standing to the side, listened in stunned disbelief—since the "Genji Juku" was renamed the "Shin'ō Spiritual Arts Academy," Captain-Commander Yamamoto had never personally taken on a student again. Kensei was really about to soar to great heights.
"Think it over. The academy only teaches the basics; it would be a waste of your talent."
Yamamoto wasn't wrong. The academy only taught the fundamentals of "Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, Kidō." Advanced techniques were only mastered by Captain-level figures. Aside from the old man, Kensei truly had no better option.
"Alright then, I'll have to trouble you, Captain-Commander."
Kensei bowed. Inoue Toshiki, as if granted a great pardon, hurriedly led him out of the room—he was genuinely afraid this kid might say something else world-shattering and jeopardize his own retirement in disgrace.
Watching Kensei return to the classroom looking dejected, Aizen felt a wave of satisfaction—there weren't many things that could make this carefree guy eat humble pie.
"How did it go?"
"Got a bargain, I guess. The old man said he'll teach me personally from now on."
Aizen wasn't surprised. To cultivate Kensei as a standard-bearer, taking him as a student was the clearest factional label, and it would also make those secretly covetous of him think twice.
"Did you mention the Rukongai uprising?"
"No, not that. He just asked if I wanted to join the Gotei, then put that matter aside, and now I'm his half-student."
Kensei shook his head, puzzled. Aizen, however, became thoughtful—if Yamamoto had questioned him about the current situation today, it would have been forcing him to choose sides between the nobility and the Gotei 13. But he merely took him as a student…
Aizen chuckled softly. People really do grow soft-hearted with age.
"Captain-Commander, why did you not explain the current political situation to Kensei Kenzuru today?"
Yamamoto Genryūsai, seated at the small wooden table practicing calligraphy, listened to the question from Chōjirō Sasakibe, who stood within the shadows behind him, without the slightest pause in his brushstroke. Only after finishing a piece did he lay down his brush, carefully examining the ink marks on the paper.
"I originally intended to. From the moment he entered, I sensed his strength—ranking among the foremost even among Vice-Captains."
"Then why…"
"He has only been here for half a year."
Yamamoto's fingertips lightly traced the already dried characters, his tone calm.
"He indeed possesses potential. Surpassing me in the future is not impossible. But precisely because of that, should we old men let a child step into these muddy waters so early?"
He picked up the piece of washi paper bearing the character for "Protect" (護) and held it up to the sunlight. Through the paper's back, the ink seemed to be gilded with a faint gold. After gazing quietly for a moment, Yamamoto took the cane leaning by the table. His perpetually narrowed eyes opened fully. An intangible aura emanated from his slightly stooped frame, making Sasakibe, who had served him for a millennium, feel as if time had flowed backward to a thousand years ago—that unwavering, forward-charging Captain-Commander had returned.
"Summon the Captains of all divisions! Convene a full council!"
"Yes, sir!"