"Whew—stuffed, absolutely stuffed."
Yoruichi patted her belly as she sprawled on the floor, sighing in satisfaction. It was hard to believe this casually disheveled woman was the heiress of the Four Great Noble families, the Shihōin Clan.
"Hm? Why aren't you eating—doesn't suit your taste?"
Glancing at Jie Chengxian who sat holding bowl and chopsticks in a daze, Yoruichi assumed the servants' cooking wasn't to his liking. Rolling his eyes, Jie surveyed the ravaged table and couldn't find a single word.
High-reiryoku Shinigami can't survive on atmospheric spirit particles alone, so they eat a lot—but even so, Jie had never seen anyone put away twenty helpings single-handedly.
"Sorry, sorry, Little Brother Jie."
Only now realizing she'd left him hungry, Yoruichi gave an awkward laugh and moved to order another spread from the kitchen—until Jie waved it off.
"No need. I'll do it myself."
He'd barely snatched two bites earlier. The food had tasted fine, yet it still felt off. He hadn't cooked in ages; hopefully his skills hadn't rusted.
"You're going to cook—think you can manage?"
What kind of question was that? All those culinary videos he'd binge-watched hadn't been for nothing.
"Do you even know what 'special-grade chef' means? Let me open your eyes today."
Nothing rankles a man more than being told he can't. Determined to prove himself, Jie marched into the kitchen. Watching him handle knives and pans with practiced ease, Yoruichi began to believe he might actually pull it off—though the final verdict would have to wait.
He kept it simple: scallion-braised tofu, garlic chicken breast, and mandatory sweet-and-sour ribs. Having spiritual pressure sure came in handy; a bit of precise Kido for heat and timing beat fussing with timers.
The Shihōin estate was not only stocked with every ingredient imaginable but everything was fresh. The finished dishes looked and smelled leagues better than what he used to whip up at home. The aroma alone made Yoruichi—already stuffed—feel hungry again.
"Hey, didn't you just say you were full?"
"Quit yakking. Show some respect for your teacher—hand over a bite!"
Jie blocked her sneaky chopsticks with one hand while pushing her face away, but Yoruichi slipped a foot under his armpit and tickled him until his defenses collapsed. Fortunately she showed restraint; knowing he hadn't eaten yet, she sampled each dish once and set her chopsticks down.
"Little Brother Jie, why don't you come be our personal chef?"
A casual tasting was enough: his cooking was undeniably delicious, and the spirit particles density in the dishes felt slightly higher than usual.
"Aren't you afraid Captain Commander Yamamoto will tear your estate apart?"
Enjoying the rare treat, Jie politely declined. He was Soul Society's future pillar; why would he sign up to be her kitchen lackey?
Yoruichi knew the Captain Commander would never agree. Then inspiration struck—she clenched her right fist and tapped her left palm.
"Then marry into the Shihōin family! That old man Yamamoto won't have an excuse to object."
"A-hem—"
The outrageous proposal made Jie choke. He gulped several cups of water before recovering, then stared at her in exasperation.
"Don't spout scary things like that—you'll give someone a heart attack."
He resumed eating, but Yoruichi caught the slight stiffness in his chopstick work. With a cat-like smirk she hooked an arm around his neck.
"Aww, Little Brother Jie's shy—adorable."
"I just don't want to be the tender grass cropped by an old cow."
Pure bravado. Among Shinigami age is meaningless—just ask Hitsugaya, a few centuries old and still a kid. Yet no woman, anywhere, enjoys being called old. Consequently Jie's Shunpo tutoring that afternoon was hell on earth.
"What happened to you?"
Pen poised over a notebook, Aizen Sōusuke eyed the half-dead Jie and asked out of curiosity. Sprawled on the bed, Jie recounted his day: weighted up-stream runs, using Hakuda to punch waterfalls—inhumane drills that still made him shudder.
Crack—
When the sound of Aizen's snapping pen reached him, Jie lifted his head in puzzlement.
"Never mind. You're saying the Shihōin head wants you to marry in?"
Tossing aside the broken pen, Aizen adjusted his glasses and asked casually.
"Yoruichi's joking; that's just how she is. Shouldn't you be consoling my battered body and soul?"
Jie protested. Why was Aizen fixated on an obvious joke instead of the torture he'd endured—was his brain broken?
"Still, watch yourself around nobles. Even if they side with the Captain Commander, stay on guard."
"Got it, got it."
Jie waved him off. He knew who the real good and bad guys were; though the details were fuzzy, the Bleach plotline was clear enough.
"By the way, I picked up plenty of Hakuda and Shunpo tricks today. Want to hear, Sōusuke?"
Who wouldn't want advanced Zan-Kaku-Ho-Gi applications? Yet Aizen felt odd—as if he were leeching off Jie, especially since the skills came courtesy of Shihōin Yoruichi. What did that make him?
Jie didn't care. He spilled every insight; after all, once he became Soul Society's pillar he'd dump all the dirty work on Aizen and live the easy life.
Shaking off the strange feeling, Aizen listened carefully. These precious notes would occupy him for days and provide valuable input for his experiments.
Recalling Jie's help, Aizen wondered: even if he succeeded in forging the Hōgyoku, could it truly aid Jie?
"Sōusuke, your talent's top-tier even in Soul Society. While training today I sensed Hakuda could go further, but I'm not sure which direction. Your intellect rivals mine—help me brainstorm."
Ignoring the jab about their IQ gap, Aizen pondered.
"Hakuda is unarmed combat. To boost its power you could refine your force generation, or fuse Hakuda with other disciplines."
Jie stroked his chin. The first approach resembled Yamamoto's Ikkotsu and Sōkotsu—hardly something ordinary souls could replicate. Sword-skills were out, leaving only Kido worth exploring.
"All right, I'll ask Yoruichi tomorrow. If it works you'll be famous, Sōusuke."
If Kido and Hakuda could merge, even if the entire Gotei couldn't master it, the Second Division—specialists in Hakuda—would gain a new ace. As co-architect, Aizen would earn fame alongside Jie.
"Pass. Don't mention me unless absolutely necessary."
Aizen shook his head. He preferred to experiment quietly; attracting Captain Commander Yamamoto's attention would be troublesome. Jie nodded, opened the manual Ukitake had given him, and resumed studying Kido. To fuse Hakuda with Kido he needed solid foundations; botching the attempt would be embarrassing.
He wondered what face Yoruichi would make tomorrow—hopefully she'd go easier on him during training.
After closing the manual, Jie offered that silent bedtime prayer.
Shihōin Yoruichi… Aizen drummed his fingers on his knee. As Jie's social web grew more complex, selecting experimental subjects became trickier.
Whatever—take it one step at a time…