Chapter 274
2-in-1 chapter
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An empty courtyard was suddenly disturbed by a swift figure flashing into view.
Soifon paused, scanning left and right.
No one.
Strange… She’d tracked them all morning, yet found no trace of Kaelith or Yoruichi. She’d been searching for two full hours. Where on earth had they gone?
Wasn’t it the Captain’s duty to stay in the Soul Society and deal with actual work? Wandering off every day—did they have no sense of responsibility whatsoever?
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Blood pressure rising.
Co to think of it, more and more Divisions these days let their Captains laze around, dumping all the paperwork on their subordinates. The Second, Fifth, Eighth, and Eleventh Divisions stood out the most.
As the Third Seat of the Second Division, once the personal guard for an esteed leader—and now, unfortunately, for a good-for-nothing—she had to put a stop to this trend!
With that firm resolve, Soifon settled under a large tree and decided to take a short break. …She wasn’t being lazy, just following the example of certain degenerates who preached pacing oneself to maintain top condition. Definitely not contaminated by them at all.
A soft breeze stirred the leaves overhead, and Soifon felt herself relaxing. Not far away, beneath another tree, two small black cats played tag—one fleeing, the other chasing, occasionally tumbling over each other in the dirt.
A smile curved Soifon’s lips. What a soothing midday scene.
Seeing these two black cats reminded her of Lady Yoruichi. Whenever Yoruichi turned into a cat, Soifon couldn’t resist the urge to pet her—but, unlike a certain reprobate, Soifon lacked the nerve for such impertinence.
Then again… that reprobate had secretly learned Yoruichi’s cat transformation technique as well. Could these two black cats possibly be those two troublemakers, fooling around?
The instant that idea occurred to her, Soifon snorted in amusent.
Impossible. Not even those two were so shaless as to turn into cats and wrestle in the dust like that—filthy.
She raised a hand and waved to the cats. The two black cats both lifted a paw in return, mirroring her gesture.
Soifon: “…”
The two cats: “…”
They froze, then whipped around to bolt. But two steps later, Soifon caught them with Shunpo, lifting each by the scruff of the neck. The little cats dangled helplessly, wide-eyed and flailing in midair.
“Lady Yoruichi, Lord Reprobate… Would you like to catch so fish and serve you fresh entrails?” Soifon’s chilly voice cut through the air.
(Note: Reprobate ans an unprincipled person.)
The two cats instantly wilted, ears drooping in unison.
Boom!!
A burst of white smoke enveloped them, and as it dissipated, two human figures erged. One was a tall, bronze-skinned woman with a high ponytail of purple hair and a curvaceous figure. The other was a powerfully built man who looked like he’d just walked off the set of a martial arts film.
Yoruichi Shihōin and Kaelith lowered their heads.
“We’re terribly sorry, Soifon. We promise we’ll reflect on our actions!”
Their bowed postures were full of apparent remorse, perfectly angled in faultless unity—enough to charm any bystander into forgiving them.
Soifon’s face only grew colder.
“Apologize all you like, but please—put so clothes on first.”
…
Inside a small room, Kaelith and Yoruichi had redressed and were now sitting upright as Soifon delivered her report. Their expressions grew puzzled.
“Marenoshin Ōmaeda wants to resign?”
“Is there sothing wrong with his health?”
Soifon shook her head.
“Lieutenant Marenoshin is in fine shape. He could easily work another hundred years if needed. But his decision stems from having an heir ready to take over. He feels his family obligations are fulfilled, so he’d like to retire early and enjoy life.
“I hear he plans to travel the World of the Living and visit every single country….”
Kaelith felt a pang of envy. Truly befitting the wealthiest man in the Soul Society—no shortage of money, his son grown, the perfect ti for a world tour. In his pri, it’d be no problem to explore the entire globe.
Lucky man.
Ōmaeda was part of the Shihōin household’s extended network, enjoying a position akin to that of a minor noble. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to resign. Yoruichi, as his formal superior, couldn’t exactly forbid it.
Marenoshin mainly reported out of respect for Yoruichi, and to request Kaelith’s help in recalling his son, Marechiyo Ōmaeda.
In truth, Marenoshin Ōmaeda hadn’t seen Marechiyo in years. Whenever he visited the Eleventh Division hoping to see him, Marechiyo was never around—always off on missions or locked away training. There were monts Marenoshin worried sothing terrible had happened to his boy, but repeated inquiries proved otherwise. His son was simply avoiding him.
Now that Marenoshin intended to retire, soone had to inherit the family estate. That brat couldn’t hide forever.
…
Kaelith went to his wardrobe and pulled out a fresh captain’s haori. The last one had been tossed aside in Hueco Mundo and forgotten. Co to think of it, he’d lost more than ten haori that way.
Hopefully no bizarre Hollows had picked them up and discovered cosplaying.
He recalled certain mbers of the Eleventh Division who had borderline fanatical obsessions—wanting to touch his sweaty uniform, or requesting he hug them until their bones shattered… it was too much. Kaelith had long since stopped casually sparring with those sorts. Let them guess whose fault that was.
Soifon, walking behind him, gave an approving nod. Without his clothes, he looked like a wild beast—every muscle sharply defined. But once dressed, he appeared civilized and refined, hiding that powerful fra.
“As expected of you, My Lord Reprobate,” she remarked inwardly. “Even your outward image is deceptive.”
“Heh, Soifon, are you captivated by my suave persona?” Kaelith abruptly turned, grinning proudly. “Out of appreciation for your daily service, I’ll permit you to kiss the back of my hand!”
Soifon promptly spun around and left.
Before long, the three of them t up with Marenoshin Ōmaeda and headed straight for the Eleventh Division. As they stepped in through the main gate, a chorus of “Boss!!” rang out from the mbers on duty. Kaelith spoke up:
“Go get that Marechiyo kid. Tell him I’m here to check his training.”
“Right away, Boss!”
The Shinigami he addressed was all too eager to oblige, racing off toward the practice grounds. Anyti he passed a friend, he’d shout, “Don’t mind , just running an errand for the Boss!”
Naturally, everyone he passed burned with envy, wishing they were in his shoes.
Kaelith strolled over to his familiar seat—an imposing throne draped in beast hides—and plopped down.
“Co on, everyone, sit! No need to be formal!”
Marenoshin Ōmaeda found a place to settle, feeling a bit out of his elent. It was like walking into a bandit lair, not another Division. Still, soon enough, he got into the spirit. Drinks, at, and fruit were brought out, and they relaxed around the makeshift feast.
They were enjoying themselves when soone appeared with a burst of Shunpo.
“Boss!”
A young Shinigami addressed Kaelith. He exuded confidence, head held high. But upon spotting Marenoshin’s robust figure nearby, the young man froze. Alarm flickered in his eyes.
Sensing an intense stare, Marenoshin glanced back curiously at the newcor—a tall, healthy man in his late teens or so. His hair was styled neatly, shaved on the sides, giving a crisp and energetic look. He was built well, though from Marenoshin’s perspective, far too scrawny. At six feet tall, how could he weigh just a hundred fifty pounds?
Back ho, that was practically skin and bones. He should be closer to two-fifty… three hundred would be proper.
While Marenoshin was thinking such things, the young Shinigami seed to panic. He tried to dash away, but Kaelith extended a hand, pinning him in place from across the yard.
“Marechiyo, where do you think you’re going? Your father ca all this way to see you, and you’d run off without a word?”
Trapped, the youth looked like he might cry.
“Boss, please… let go. I can’t let my family see like this!”
“Don’t talk nonsense. You’re far better off now than… well, than the old days,” Kaelith said with a cough.
From the conversation, Marenoshin got a strange feeling. He looked more carefully at the young man. After a few seconds, his eyes flew wide in astonishnt.
Though at a glance the youth didn’t ring a bell, on closer inspection, his brows, nose, and mouth were uncannily similar to those of… the son he hadn’t seen in years—Marechiyo Ōmaeda!
Leaping up with joy, he exclaid, “Marechiyo?!”
“…Yes, Father.”
Seeing no escape, Marechiyo lowered his head.
A laugh of relief burst from Marenoshin. He bounded over, tears welling up.
“Ha! Wonderful, just wonderful—I was afraid you might be… ahem. Well, at least you’re safe. Look at these muscles! Quite impressive—reminds a bit of myself!
“But you’re still far too thin! You’ll wear yourself out like that!”
Tears clung to Marenoshin’s lashes as he patted Marechiyo all over. The son rolled his eyes, thinking how normal people wouldn’t call him thin at all.
When he’d first arrived in the Eleventh Division, he also saw everyone as far too slim, believing they all needed more deep-fried snacks. But over ti, as he trained day in and day out, he realized a lighter body let him move more fluidly, strike more precisely. Back ho, he never would have embraced such training, but here in the Eleventh, it was the culture: daily drills, constant sparring. No one could remain unaffected by that atmosphere.
Once a lazy scion, Marechiyo Ōmaeda had beco a warrior who voluntarily sought out stronger foes. He found himself smiling as he recalled it. Seeing his father still looking so upset, he wanted to offer so reassurance—but wasn’t sure how.
Then a new voice broke in:
“Hey, big guy. If you’re so concerned, how about checking out your son’s progress firsthand?”
Marechiyo looked toward the speaker: the Division’s Vice-Captain, a man carrying a long sword on his shoulder—Zaraki Kenpachi.
“Vice-Captain!”
He stood ramrod straight. Over the years, Kenpachi’s aura had only grown sharper. While still not on Kaelith’s level, he was formidable in his own right.
Marenoshin glanced over too, frowning at the palpable killing intent rolling off the Vice-Captain. As a fellow Lieutenant, Marenoshin felt a near-total inability to muster fighting spirit. Who in their right mind would pick a fight with a lion?
Before he could greet Kenpachi, Marechiyo stepped forward.
“You’re right, Vice-Captain. Father, allow to show you how much I’ve improved.”
Without giving Marenoshin a chance to respond, he faced Kenpachi.
“Vice-Captain! Marechiyo Ōmaeda respectfully requests a spar. Please give the honor!”
“Oh?”
Kenpachi bared his teeth in a feral grin. “Sure thing.”
Sword on his shoulder, he strode toward the training grounds. Marechiyo followed without hesitation.
Only then did Marenoshin snap out of his daze. He rushed after his son, grabbing his sleeve.
“H-Hey, Marechiyo, are you insane? That guy is a monster!”
Marechiyo smiled and t his father’s gaze.
“No, Father. He’s not a monster—he’s our Eleventh Division Vice-Captain.
“Watch closely. Let show you the result of my years here.”
He placed a hand on the hilt at his waist and walked onto the field. Facing Zaraki Kenpachi, he took a deep breath, drew his blade with a sharp clang, and called out:
“Marechiyo Ōmaeda of the Eleventh Division—please guide !”
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