Seireitei, Central District, 1st Division Headquarters.
Captain's Office.
Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto stood before a crimson painting, leaning on his staff.
The image depicted a man with a traditional samurai topknot, gripping a katana, his figure engulfed in roaring flames as he burned the world around him.
The man in the painting was a monster from Soul Society's past—one who had nearly destroyed the world.
Genryūsai Yamamoto.
Flashing swords, howling winds, roaring thunder, and searing flames…
Battlefield reports raced through Yamamoto's mind, pulling him into contemplation.
"Just how much is that Masatsuki kid hiding from me?" Yamamoto narrowed his eyes and muttered to himself.
"Captain-Commander."
A clear female voice rang out from beyond the door.
"Enter."
Yamamoto responded, slowly shifting his gaze away and resuming his usual composed expression.
The sliding door opened, revealing Retsu Unohana.
She spoke softly, "Captain-Commander, the investigation is complete."
Yamamoto studied the 4th Division Captain, her radiant smile making it clear that she was genuinely pleased.
The two had known each other for a thousand years—he could tell when she was truly happy.
He nodded and asked warmly, "What's the situation?"
Although Kenpachi Kiganjō was dead, he had been the Captain of the 11th Division—a Shinigami bearing the title of Kenpachi.
And given how unexpectedly Masatsuki Aozaki had performed in battle, it was only natural that the details of the fight would be scrutinized.
Unohana bowed her head slightly.
"Masatsuki Aozaki has completed treatment and has mostly recovered."
"As for the specifics of the rebel attack…"
"There were many strange battle traces found both on the battlefield and on Kiganjō Kenpachi's body."
"However, one thing is certain—Kenpachi Kiganjō was indeed slain by Masatsuki Aozaki."
Yamamoto let out an unimpressed sigh and rolled his eyes.
"That kid performed well, but it's not time yet."
Unohana gave a small, awkward smile.
The thought of Masatsuki Aozaki taking down Kenpachi Kiganjō alone was undeniably exhilarating.
If she were being honest, she was itching to head straight to the 4th Division and challenge him to a proper sword match—several, in fact.
"Speaking of that brat Masatsuki, the details of this battle will remain classified for now," Yamamoto said. "Keep a close eye on the others."
Retsu Unohana pondered for a moment before responding with a serious expression.
"I understand. I will pass along your orders, but if they refuse to obey…"
"Kill them."
Yamamoto's voice was ice-cold.
In an instant, the kind old man vanished, replaced by the terrifying monster who had once struck fear across Soul Society a thousand years ago.
Seeing this, Unohana hesitated for a brief moment.
She remained silent, letting out a quiet sigh in her heart.
Those days… truly were unforgettable.
Though that era had been filled with chaos, slaughter, and death, for her, it had been the best time of all.
And yet, when had this man—this demon before her, more fearsome than even herself—begun to restrain his bloodlust?
Masatsuki Aozaki…
Once again, Unohana found her thoughts drifting to the man who constantly shattered her expectations.
He had yet to lose his edge. His talent was undeniable.
It was only a matter of time before he caught up to them.
Their battle was inevitable.
For the sake of that intoxicating thrill, she would have to guide him well.
She could hardly wait… for the day of their inevitable clash.
"…Where is 3rd Seat Masatsuki now?"
Yamamoto paid no mind to the subtle change in Unohana's expression and simply continued his inquiry.
"He's currently recuperating in the 4th Division," Unohana replied. "Though his injuries have healed, the battle was intense, so I've ordered him to remain under observation for the time being."
"Observation? You're spoiling him too much!" Yamamoto scoffed. "A few minor wounds don't warrant hospitalization. Don't forget how we got through things in our time."
The more he listened, the more irritated he became.
Why is this ruthless killer being so gentle with that brat?
It made it seem as if he, the Master, was failing in his duty.
Damn it, how did this woman—who once bathed in blood without hesitation—become such a soft, nurturing figure?
"These are different times, Captain-Commander."
Unohana's voice was gentle, her demeanor obedient.
"Didn't we establish the Gotei 13 to protect the peace we fought so hard to obtain?"
Is this supposed to be your line?
Yamamoto's face twitched in irritation, feeling as though he was about to age a thousand years on the spot.
Some things never change—this woman's personality was just as infuriating as it had been centuries ago!
After a brief pause, he sighed.
"Summon Masatsuki."
…
"Masatsuki, you're here."
Yamamoto's voice, unusually warm, came from the 1st Division Captain's office.
Masatsuki Aozaki stepped inside, his expression skeptical.
"Master."
The old man wasn't wearing his usual stern expression.
Something was off.
Highly suspicious.
Yamamoto coughed lightly and spoke with concern, "You seem to be in good spirits… Your injuries—are they healing well?"
At his words, Retsu Unohana chuckled softly, while Masatsuki Aozaki's face stiffened.
The old man… was showing concern for him?
No.
Something was very, very wrong.
He reached up, clutching his forehead dramatically, swaying on his feet as he exaggeratedly declared,
"Master… I… My wounds are severe. I must return to the 4th Division immediately to recover. Captain Unohana, please escort me back."
Unohana approached, gave him a once-over, then shook her head with an amused smile before stepping out of the office.
What the hell did that mean?
Was she doubting his acting skills?
Or worse—had she just abandoned him to his fate?
Masatsuki Aozaki froze in place.
No.
Judging by the sheer amusement in her expression, she must have had something to do with this!
As the office door shut behind her, Yamamoto watched her leave before turning back to Masatsuki.
For a moment, he remained silent, as if weighing something in his mind.
Then, his expression shifted.
Gone was the warmth.
His usual imposing presence returned as he asked in a low, commanding voice,
"Tell me—what's the truth about your Zanpakutō?"
"…My Zanpakutō?"
Masatsuki blinked, then let out a small sigh of relief.
If the old man was back to his usual self, then he was probably safe.
Understanding what Yamamoto was getting at, he scratched his head and smirked.
"Master, don't you think asking something so private in broad daylight is a bit reckless? Who knows who might be listening?"
Yamamoto said nothing—just turned his head slightly.
Masatsuki got the message.
He walked over to the wall and placed his hand against it, sensing a barrier.
As expected.
The old man had already taken precautions.
With a sigh, Masatsuki sat down, accepted a cup of tea, and took a sip, his expression growing more serious.
"Well, the truth is, between me and Banshō Senran—"
He had barely begun to explain when he caught the sharp glint in Yamamoto's eyes.
Immediately, he changed course.
"…I mean, I've mastered Shikai."
Yamamoto exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with a sigh.
"You've grown up," he said. "Not only did you defeat Kiganjō, but now you even have the nerve to mess with this old man."
He reached for his staff, his tone deepening.
"I'm quite pleased."
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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