"Teacher… are we really fighting?"
After glancing behind him and noticing Kyōraku Shunsui was nowhere in sight, Naraku asked curiously.
Yamamoto's arms hung at his sides as he walked forward. His hunched silhouette slowly straightened with each step. He wasn't tall, yet the pressure he radiated grew more and more suffocating.
Especially because a subtle smile had appeared on that aged face—one that made Naraku's skin crawl.
"Naraku."
Yamamoto took off his white captain's haori.
He folded it carefully and placed it in a corner.
"Don't tell me you thought I was joking just now."
Looking into those half-lowered eyes, Naraku felt an instinctive unease.
"Come to think of it—your teacher has been busy lately, constantly coordinating with the Central 46. Every day, at least a hundred secret orders get delivered directly to me through Central Court channels."
Yamamoto lifted his eyelids slightly. In the sunlight, fire seemed to burn in those dark eyes.
"I nearly neglected your education. After I taught you everything about 'Ikkotsu,' I still haven't properly checked how much you've learned."
"That is indeed negligence. I sincerely apologize."
"But since someone is covering my work today, let's use this time. I'll give you some guidance."
Only after arriving at the dōjō did Yamamoto remember: the reason he'd been spinning like a top these past days…
was that "harmless-looking" boy right in front of him.
Stirring up the Shihōin civil conflict, assassinating multiple Shihōin elders head-on, emptying the Maggot's Nest, publicly killing nobles, expanding the Central Prison without authorization…
"Don't worry," Yamamoto continued. "To ensure teaching quality, I'll control my Reiatsu to roughly the same level as yours."
"You don't need to hold back. Fight however you like."
As he spoke, flames made of condensed reishi rose and formed ring-like bands, wrapping around Yamamoto's arms—each arm as thick as an adult's thigh.
Naraku's eyes lit up.
If he were expected to fight Yamamoto at full strength, Naraku would genuinely worry about dropping dead mid-lesson.
But if the old man was truly arrogant enough to suppress himself down to Naraku's level…
Then Naraku was going to show him what "numbers" really meant.
It was like thinking you were fighting Ultraman Taro, only to discover it was Mike Tyson stepping into the ring instead.
Even among "Grade 4," there were differences.
And Naraku wasn't even a "pure" Shinigami.
Staring at Yamamoto's increasingly ferocious expression, Naraku bared his teeth in a grin.
"Then please teach me well, Teacher."
Seeing his idiot student smiling happily right before the beating of his life, Yamamoto looked briefly surprised—then nodded slowly.
But just as he was about to speak again—
A faint heat brushed his face.
Naraku's Shunpo exploded.
He crossed more than ten meters in a blink, a fist wrapped in blood-red Reiatsu slamming down without hesitation!
Even with Yamamoto suppressing his power, Naraku didn't dare underestimate him.
He had to go all out immediately.
Only by doing that could he seize control of the pace.
Seeing the fist right in front of him, Yamamoto's mouth split into a grin. Even fiercer Reiatsu ignited off his body. Muscle and tendon trembled as his fingers clenched tight.
A seemingly endless strength surged into his right fist.
Boom!
The moment they collided, shockwaves tore the air apart. Visible ripples spread outward in every direction.
Feeling that terrifying force through his arm, Yamamoto's eyes flashed with surprise.
"Ikkotsu" wasn't his most secret trump card, but it was still a powerful technique—and difficult to learn.
He'd expected Naraku to need a long time to refine it.
Yet it had only been a few days, and Naraku had already reached this level.
Flawless.
Even Yamamoto—the one who created the technique—couldn't find a single fault.
At this rate… how long would he even be able to teach this brat before he outgrew him?
Realizing he might soon be unable to beat up Naraku anymore, Yamamoto's face showed a trace of regret.
Right then, Naraku caught that tiny emotional shift.
He stepped back and—without any visible windup—unleashed his full Reiatsu.
A flash of red passed through his eyes.
In that razor-thin opening, another Ikkotsu punch shot forward.
Yamamoto's eyes widened in shock.
He hadn't expected Naraku to fire off two Ikkotsu strikes back-to-back in such a tiny gap.
Shouldn't a normal person need a moment to reset?
Wild force detonated and poured into Yamamoto's raised arm. His tensed muscles rang with a metallic echo.
Blazing Reiatsu slammed through the space, grinding a crater into the floor beneath their feet.
Yamamoto took a step back.
Naraku's eyes went bright.
So the numbers really worked.
At equal Reiatsu, even Yamamoto couldn't casually tank his straight punches. If he kept this rhythm, taking Yamamoto down might not be impossible.
Today, I'll overthrow my superior.
His sudden barrage drove Yamamoto back again and again, looking like the old man had fallen completely into disadvantage with no way to turn it around.
Boom!
Naraku's vision went black.
His thoughts seemed to blank for a split second, as if someone had wiped a piece of his memory clean.
When awareness returned, pain flooded his entire body—like he'd been hit by a high-speed train. His bones felt loose, his body unable to hold itself together.
"What… happened…?"
Naraku stared wide-eyed, unable to process what had just occurred.
He remembered having the advantage, Yamamoto retreating, victory right in front of him—
Then a hole in his memory—
Then waking up on the ground.
"Your grasp of Ikkotsu is acceptable. Your fundamentals are good, but you're too impatient. In real combat you'll need to watch that."
Yamamoto sat cross-legged, looking calmly at the boy sprawled out in a starfish position.
"This evaluation counts as a pass."
"Now," he continued, "let's talk about Takeda Satoru."
Naraku snapped back to alertness and looked up at the old man, surprised.
Yamamoto spoke at an even pace.
"Naraku, I know very well you were not involved in the attack. I called you here not only to test your progress—"
"But to remind you of something."
"Once you're dragged into a whirlpool, it becomes very hard to climb back out. The water here is deeper than you think."
"To this day, I still don't know how many Shinigami in the Gotei 13 truly stand with the nobles. A compromise made long ago has already strayed far from its original purpose."
"Takeda Satoru is also tied to the nobles, and the clan he serves is one of the Five Great Houses."
Yamamoto's low voice echoed through the empty dōjō.
"Their name is… Tsunayashiro."
~~~
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