"You're not planning to storm the Shihōin estate, are you?"
Aizen eyed the boy warily, clearly warning him not to do anything stupid.
"If you even voice that idea, the Central Court's squads will be knocking on your door the next morning. After that, the Gotei 13 will launch a joint operation to wipe out anyone suspected of plotting treason against the nobles."
Naraku shot him a disdainful look and said in a firm voice:
"Do I really look that shallow and brainless to you?"
Aizen paused, then a hint of confusion crossed his face. "Aren't you?"
Naraku: "?"
All right, Sōsuke. I'll remember this one.
"If we charged into the Shihōin estate, the first one jumping out would probably be that bald muscle-fossil of an old man," Naraku muttered, lips twisting as if remembering something unpleasant. Even his expression shifted slightly.
"At that point, forget me—you'd probably get burned to ash too."
Aizen might be extremely strong for his age, but compared to a certain final-form ancient monster, he was still a bit too green.
"You're seriously underestimating my world-shaking genius."
"Sure, an ordinary Shinigami attacking nobles would count as rebellion—'overstepping rank,' violating Soul Society law, and inviting unspeakable trouble."
"But if we have a legitimate reason, then everything becomes perfectly reasonable."
Aizen tapped his chin, thinking. "The risk is high, but if we refine the details carefully, we can avoid a lot of unnecessary problems."
Naraku's eyes lit up. "All right, talk me through it."
...
...
"Eat my Ascending Dragon Sword!"
In the First Division dōjō, Naraku, wrapped in blazing Reiatsu, exploded forward like a falling supernova, unleashing a brilliant strike.
The booming impact echoed through the entire barracks. Even Sasakibe Chōjirō in the courtyard couldn't help clicking his tongue in awe.
The last person who refused to yield even after getting beaten by the Head-Captain this many times… was probably him.
Back when Yamamoto had trained Kyōraku, the captain hadn't even landed a punch yet before Kyōraku had already surrendered at light-speed. No backbone whatsoever.
Yamamoto had been so furious that he'd hit harder than usual and even declared that there was no room for cowards in the Gotei 13. If it happened again, he'd hang Kyōraku from the East Wall for everyone to see.
Naraku, on the other hand, was stubborn to the core. He had no intention of backing down.
After a full round of beatings, he'd still want another go.
Even more outrageous, his ability to take a beating was far above any of Yamamoto's other students.
Even when his whole body was covered in bruises, all he needed was a short breather before he was bouncing around again. Hard not to envy that kind of body.
"I have a good grasp of your Shikai's ability now."
With a single smack, Yamamoto sent him flying, then casually pulled his captain's haori off the wall and shrugged it on. His eyes flicked to the boy now embedded in the floor, expression a bit complicated.
He organized his thoughts.
"Don't go announcing it to people next time."
Yamamoto's voice dropped low.
"A Zanpakutō's ability is the very foundation of a Shinigami. It is the secret of secrets. You must not casually reveal it to others—much less to your enemies."
"Otherwise, you're inviting yourself into mortal danger."
Naraku shook his dazed head. That slap had come dangerously close to knocking his organs loose.
Who the hell said the old man's power was "useless"?
"It's a very strong ability—stronger than some Bankai, even. But the drawbacks are obvious," Yamamoto continued, ignoring the undignified heap on the floor. He spoke calmly, passing on as much of his experience and knowledge as he could to this promising junior.
"Reiatsu."
"If you burn it all and still don't finish your enemy, the outcome will be disastrous."
Naraku bared his teeth in a grin. "If I run into someone like that, do you think my first thought is to stand and trade blows instead of running?"
Yamamoto choked for a moment, then snapped:
"I've seen no evidence that you're someone who 'knows when to retreat'!"
This boy was unlike any student he'd ever taught—he couldn't even find someone vaguely similar for comparison.
Other students crumbled under training that felt like hell.
But this one? He practically enjoyed it, sinking into the grind like he didn't even know what fear was.
That said… Yamamoto actually found himself liking that attitude.
Beating him up every so often made for decent post-meal entertainment.
"Sit. Today we'll go over advanced Hakuda techniques."
"I call this one… One Bone."
He paused, shifted his fingers, and tightened them into a fist.
Reiatsu surged down his arm, concentrated and condensed over his knuckles, a faint glow appearing on the skin of his fist.
Then he punched.
Suffocation slammed into Naraku like a wall. For a moment it felt like death itself was pressing down on him. The wind screamed, his entire world reduced to that single fist.
His pupils shrank tight. His body locked up completely. His mind went blank—he couldn't even react.
"This technique is all about controlling Reiatsu and your spirit body. It suits you quite well," Yamamoto said, lowering his arm.
He hadn't actually unleashed One Bone on his student. He'd only let Naraku experience its pressure.
Then came the details—corrections on form, nuances of control, and directions for channeling Reiatsu.
There was no denying it.
As the strongest Shinigami in a thousand years, Yamamoto had truly brought Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō to their peak.
He took something as plain as a punch and turned it into a technique with dozens of layers and applications. He even broke down more than ten different scenarios in which to use it.
Naraku memorized every bit of it.
By then, that day's training was ending.
"Teacher, there's something else I need to report."
"Speak."
Naraku gathered his thoughts and gave a broad overview of what had happened at Koi-Fushi Mountain—crediting his survival entirely to his Shikai.
He'd promised Aizen to keep his secret, and he had no intention of exposing it.
Yamamoto's expression remained calm throughout, but the atmosphere in the dōjō grew heavier with every word.
Like a dormant volcano gradually waking, the air filled with the invisible taste of sulfur, making it hard to breathe.
After a long silence, he finally spoke:
"Ever since the Araki disaster, those lawless elements have had their eyes on you. But according to Soul Society law—"
"Without evidence, no Shinigami from any institution may move against the nobles. Doing so is treason."
"Even with sufficient proof, action still requires approval from the Central 46. And if the case involves one of the Five Great Houses, it must first be debated at a Noble Council before anything can be done."
Naraku frowned.
The rules in Soul Society were an even bigger mess than he'd imagined.
"Teacher… what if it's nobles fighting each other?"
Yamamoto: "?"