"Why is Kuchiki Kyōka slower than me in dealing with traitors? Isn't he Captain-level?
Jie Chengxian, a mere Fourth Seat Spirit Power Level, had only barely beaten a Captain-level by improvising Shunko; Kuchiki Kyōka was a genuine Captain-level, and his Zanpakuto was the type most lethal to Shinigami—he shouldn't be slower than me.
"Oh, him? Over there."
Yoruichi ran her fingers along the bandages on Jie Chengxian's body and jerked her chin toward a spot.
"Lady Yoruichi's perception is as sharp as ever."
Kuchiki Kyōka stepped from the trees, admiration in his eyes as he regarded Jie Chengxian. Dealing with Shirakura Shinichiro had cost him almost no effort, and after arriving he had secretly watched Jie Chengxian's fight.
He tossed the likewise unconscious Shirakura Shinichiro to the ground and prepared to take his leave.
"On behalf of the Kuchiki Clan, I thank you both for your help. A formal thanks would be inappropriate right now, so please visit the Kuchiki estate another day and allow me to express my gratitude. For now, I must return to handle the stronghold. Farewell."
After Kuchiki Kyōka left, Jie Chengxian strode toward the two traitors.
"What do we do with these two?"
Watching Jie Chengxian mime a horizontal slash across his throat, Yoruichi rolled her eyes.
"Captain-level corpses are troublesome to dispose of, so they're usually tossed into the Maggots Nest, but it still depends on what Old Man Yama decides."
Each carrying a traitor, the two headed leisurely toward the First Division Barracks in Seireitei. Partly because the fight had drained Jie Chengxian's reiishi, partly because he wanted time to ponder what reward he should coax out of Old Man Yama for his meritorious deed.
"Think the old man would let me be a Captain if I asked?"
Glancing at the daydreaming Jie Chengxian, Yoruichi brutally crushed his fantasy.
"You haven't even awakened a Zanpakuto—go to sleep and dream on."
Why does Soul Society still discriminate against those without a Zanpakuto? We pure-muscle types will rise one day!
"Wait, Yoruichi, you have a Zanpakuto—why aren't you the Second Division Captain yet?"
"Noble-house affairs aren't something you need to understand."
Yoruichi could only fob him off with that; she couldn't admit she'd been too busy playing around to finish the trials—that would be too embarrassing.
The two bickered all the way—"muscle-brained oaf," "head of the Shihōin Clan who isn't even a Captain"—until they reached the First Division Barracks gate. Another word and they'd be tasting Captain Commander Yamamoto's loving fists.
"Old man, see what your dutiful disciple brought you!"
Jie Chengxian had completely forgotten Yamamoto's warning not to shout inside the First Division Barracks. Like a relative arriving at New Year's clutching a gift, he hollered for someone to come greet him, the two traitors dangling like health supplements for the elderly.
Yamamoto, whose latest calligraphy had again been wrecked by Jie Chengxian's roar, wondered whether he'd taken on this disciple too soon. If the noble clans got hold of the boy, they'd be driven crazy within days. Still, he couldn't bear to let such talent rot among nobles—noisy though he was, he'd brought good things.
Then Yamamoto watched Jie Chengxian and Yoruichi stroll in, each holding a Captain.
Even a millennia-old Shinigami like Yamamoto froze, his breathing stuttering. The Shihōin girl was already lawless—now paired with this reckless boy, they'd targeted Captains?
Captain Commander Yamamoto nearly cleaned house on the spot, but millennia of discipline held; he narrowed his eyes, waiting for an explanation. If it didn't satisfy, mercy would be absent.
"Old man, this time you've got to give me a Capt—"
Knowing Yamamoto's moods, Yoruichi clamped her legs around Jie Chengxian's waist and clapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything worse, then explained everything to the Captain Commander.
"Hmm. I understand. You two did well. Hand these two over to the Central 46."
Even if the Chamber was involved, justice had to appear normal; with evidence solid, the traitors would be locked in the Maggots Nest.
"And stop that public indecency—stand up straight!"
Seeing the half-naked Jie Chengxian wrapped in Yoruichi's embrace, the old-fashioned Yamamoto couldn't bear it; the pair snapped to attention like students caught flirting by a dean.
"Jie Chengxian, show me the technique you created that merges Kido and Hakuda."
As their teacher, Yamamoto had to keep track of his disciple's growth; it would be embarrassing to know less than the Shihōin girl.
"Osu!"
With a hearty shout, Jie Chengxian triggered Shunko in an explosion—good thing he hadn't changed clothes, or another set would be ruined.
Yamamoto narrowed his eyes at Jie Chengxian, then gave Yoruichi an odd look—wasn't this the idea she'd once mentioned? Had she perfected it and taught it to him?
Under Yamamoto's gaze Yoruichi shook her head and explained Shunko's origin.
"…Understood. But remember, every technique has pros and cons. Your Shunko boasts high power and speed, with plenty of room for development. But the downside?"
"Downside is… uh, it blows the back off your clothes, and the power depends on your spirit particles control."
Hearing another string of nonsense, Yamamoto assumed the boy's brain had been rattled when the Shinigami who'd brought him to Soul Society whacked him with a sword hilt; at least the rest made sense.
"Though you two rendered meritorious service, going to Rukongai without permission is a grave error. Merit and demerit don't cancel—tomorrow both of you will stand under the waterfall and reflect!"
Yamamoto was being difficult; normally Shinigami could visit Rukongai as long as they weren't caught. This time Yoruichi and Jie Chengxian had essentially turned themselves in.
"Old man, I shed blood for Soul Society! I demand to see—"
Outraged at Yamamoto's ingratitude, Jie Chengxian shouted for justice—then ran out of people higher than Yamamoto to appeal to. Deflated, he exchanged a glance with Yoruichi and quietly left the barracks.
"Sasakibe, deliver these two to the Central 46. Tell them my dutiful disciple offers them as a teacher-appreciation gift."
Watching them leave, Yamamoto spoke to the empty study; Chōjirō Sasakibe stepped from the shadows, ever ready to serve his loyal captain.
"It seems you're quite satisfied with your new student, Captain Commander."
"Hmph, that brat is still far from enough."
Sasakibe curled his lips, tempted to remind the Captain Commander to wipe the smile off his face when saying that, but as Yamamoto's attendant he chose not to spoil his mood.
So be it. A flame once too scorching, capable only of destruction, had sunk into quiet embers for Soul Society's sake; now it could warm others.