Back at Shin'ō Academy, Masatsuki Aozaki breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing Rangiku Matsumoto attending class without issue.
"Aozaki-san, skipping class is not a good habit."
A brand-new ruler lightly tapped Masatsuki on the head.
"Kuchiki-sensei..." Masatsuki slowly turned his head, awkwardly asking, "What brings you here?"
"Did you forget? This is my history class. Now hurry inside—the lesson is still ongoing," Sōjun Kuchiki said, sounding exasperated but not truly reprimanding him.
Seeing that Sōjun had no intention of punishing him, Masatsuki entered the classroom and slumped into his seat, quickly returning to his usual lazy deanor.
Gin Ichimaru sat nearby, completely absorbed in his thin history textbook.
Rangiku, on the other hand, multitasked—sotis glancing at Masatsuki, sotis at her book, and sotis at Sōjun Kuchiki.
Yūshirō Shihōin remained as absentminded as ever, which made Masatsuki—his supposed brother-in-law (?)—sowhat concerned for him.
As for Tsunayashiro, who loved forming cliques in class... well, his seat was there, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Rumor had it that the 2nd Division had taken him in for questioning. Whether he'd return in one piece was anyone's guess.
Among the people Masatsuki knew, the one who had changed the most was Sōjun Kuchiki.
Normally diligent and responsible, always carrying a gentle smile, today Sōjun seed distracted. He would occasionally space out, then furrow his brows as if sothing troubling was on his mind.
Masatsuki shook his head. The feuds among nobles were far too complicated—and dangerous. That kind of trouble was beyond the reach of a commoner like him.
Best to stay out of it.
If he were strong enough, things might be different, but right now, there was no way for him to get involved. If even Sōjun Kuchiki was struggling, what could he—a Lieutenant-level Shinigami with only Fifth-Class Reiatsu—possibly do?
...
Over the next few days, Masatsuki dedicated himself to practicing "Sword Pressure" while also learning Shunpo and Reiatsu concealnt techniques from Yoruichi Shihōin.
With the battle over, Shin'ō Academy settled into a brief period of peace.
Whenever Masatsuki snuck out, he no longer ran into large-scale conflicts.
Strangely, Kisuke Urahara hadn't shown up at the training grounds all week. Whatever he was busy with, no one seed to know.
On the weekend, Masatsuki made his usual visit to the 1st Division barracks.
Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto stood with his back to the entrance, leaning on his cane, exuding an air of deep mystery.
Such a high-level display of coolness...
Masatsuki sighed.
The old man was always kind to him—but he had never taught him how to act cool.
Everyone knew that in the world of "Shinigami," fashion sense was directly proportional to strength.
"How is your Sword Pressure training coming along?"
Hearing the approaching footsteps and the steady tapping of the cane against the floor, Yamamoto finally spoke.
"I've already mastered it. With the Captain-Commander personally overseeing , how could I afford to slack off?"
Masatsuki quietly moved closer. As expected, he caught the brief flicker of amusent in the old man's expression before it quickly disappeared. Yamamoto glanced at him.
"Show ." Yamamoto snorted and slowly turned around.
Masatsuki didn't hesitate. He drew Banshō Senran and, with a swift motion, slashed through the air.
A blue wave of Sword Pressure tore through the space between them, rushing toward Yamamoto.
The old man looked at the incoming attack with mild surprise.
Then, with a single finger, he tapped the tip of the spiritual pressure blade.
Crackle!
The powerful slash, capable of cleaving through boulders, t Yamamoto's fingertip—and stopped dead in its tracks. Not only did it fail to push forward, but it didn't even leave a single mark.
Yamamoto extended another finger. With a light press between his index finger and thumb, cracks began to spread across the Sword Pressure from the point of contact.
"Crack!"
The Sword Pressure shattered without making a sound, dispersing into Reishi and vanishing without leaving a trace.
Yamamoto observed Masatsuki Aozaki, who was gripping his Zanpakutō. After a brief silence, he said slowly, "Not bad. I didn't expect you to reach this level in just a week."
Masatsuki grinned. "That's thanks to the Captain-Commander's excellent teaching."
"Sit down. Have so tea."
Yamamoto walked over to the tea table, nodding slightly as he gestured for Masatsuki to take a seat.
Masatsuki plopped down but imdiately furrowed his brows—sothing felt off.
Aside from their first eting, when had the old man ever been this nice to him? And now he was even offering tea?
Sothing was definitely up.
Could it be... my dealings with Aizen have been exposed?
No, that shouldn't be possible. Aizen is ticulous; even if I made a mistake, he wouldn't.
Then what else could it be? What else have I done... Did one of those noble ladies co looking for ?
Masatsuki's hand froze mid-sip, his gaze shifting toward Yamamoto. Ti seed to slow as he debated whether to co clean or wait for Yamamoto to make the first move.
Seeing Masatsuki sitting so obediently, Yamamoto chuckled.
So, you've got the guts to do sothing this big, but not the courage to admit it? You even dared to get involved with the Shihōin Clan's eldest daughter...
He fixed his gaze on Masatsuki and said, "Tell , when did it start?"
Masatsuki finally caught on. "Three years ago. That was my first ti."
Yamamoto raised an eyebrow. He had assud it had only started this week—he hadn't expected it to go back that far.
"Do you realize the consequences of this?"
Masatsuki's expression changed in an instant. He clutched his chest dramatically, looking as if he might cry. "They said they'd take care of everything! That I didn't have to worry! Sensei, this isn't my fault—you have to stand up for !"
They?
"Who else knows about this?"
Masatsuki sniffled, shook his head pitifully, and remained silent.
After a long pause, Yamamoto sighed. "Forget it. No matter what you did, this must never be spoken of—especially not to the Shihōin Clan."
Masatsuki blinked. "The Shihōin Clan? What do they have to do with this?"
Sure, he'd done a lot of things, but he hadn't even started ssing with the Four Great Noble Clans.
"You do have so conscience, at least—you're even trying to cover for Yoruichi Shihōin..."
"Yoruichi?! Ah... oh... I see. Right, yeah, it was her," Masatsuki blurted, finally realizing the misunderstanding. He quickly waved his hands in denial. "Sensei, we're just normal friends! There's nothing going on between us!"
"Shut up," Yamamoto snapped. "Whether there's sothing or not isn't up to you to decide."
His sharp gaze locked onto Masatsuki, but after a mont, he seed to calm down. His eyes flickered with thought, as if weighing his next words carefully.
"This matter must not spread. Leave the rest to ."
A long silence followed before Yamamoto spoke again.
"Your Sword Pressure training is impressive, but it's still not enough. You need to keep practicing."
"Today's lesson will be Hakuda. I will teach you the combat techniques I developed."
Masatsuki's eyes lit up. "Wait, do you an Ikkotsu and Sōkotsu?"
He was always interested in hand-to-hand combat techniques.
Yamamoto's mastery of Hakuda was fully demonstrated in Bleach—with a single punch, he shattered Wonderweiss Margela's abdon, and with two more, he obliterated his entire body except for his head.
And Wonderweiss wasn't just any opponent—his Reiatsu was on par with the Espada.
Even Kensei Muguruma, using his Bankai, couldn't accomplish such a feat. But Yamamoto did it with his bare hands.
"Today, we start with the fundantals," Yamamoto said flatly. "With your current level of Hakuda, it's far too early to learn Ikkotsu and Sōkotsu."
"Hand-to-hand combat is a discipline of continuous refinent. You must build your foundation step by step. Only by staying grounded can you truly go far."
"If you chase strength recklessly and fixate only on powerful techniques, you'll be like a castle in the sky—impressive in form but empty inside. In the end, you'll only lead yourself astray."
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / PinkSnake
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