"Ah, um… thank you for taking care of me these past few days."
The man in front of him remained silent.
Arima Shinya could only scratch the corner of his mouth and force an awkward smile.
"Also, could you… please pass on a message to Captain Unohana? I'd like to thank her as well for the care she's given me during this time."
The other man's steps halted. He half-turned, his expression filled with disdain.
"That line should've come first, don't you think?"
Arima Shinya understood immediately.
Probably another devout fan of Unohana Retsu…
While Arima Shinya was lost in those thoughts, elsewhere, Unohana Retsu—who was currently traveling mounted on her Minazuki—had already landed.
It was a wide, quiet courtyard — a meeting place she was all too familiar with.
The officers who had been waiting for some time now stood lined up with solemn expressions. As Unohana sheathed her Zanpakutō and walked forward with calm steps, everyone bowed deeply.
"Captain Unohana, this way, please…"
"Hmm. Good work, everyone."
Even though it was just a routine meeting, the atmosphere was filled with solemnity and reverence.
That was the ideal of Commander-General Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni — and anyone who stepped into that place was expected to follow such decorum.
Naturally, Unohana was no exception.
Guided by the officers, she crossed the courtyard until she reached the spacious main hall.
There, dozens of figures were gathered — tall, short, fat, thin… distinct bodies and presences, clashing personalities, yet in that moment, all stood side by side.
Then, they turned their gazes toward the newcomer — the last captain to arrive.
No one spoke.
Only the old man seated upon the raised platform slowly opened his eyes.
His thin, withered body supported a long white beard.
The cane he held in his gnarled hands, wrinkled like his own skin, further emphasized the image of an ancient being weathered by time.
And yet…
The light in his eyes remained vivid and piercing. He looked briefly at Unohana, then turned his gaze toward the others, speaking in a grave tone:
"Everyone is here. Let us begin."
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni.
As the tip of his cane struck the ground, the dry sound echoed through the entire hall.
The periodic meeting of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was officially in session.
"First, the report on recent activities will be presented by Vice-Captain Sasakibe Chōjirō. I ask everyone to pay attention to matters concerning their respective divisions."
Normally, vice-captains were not allowed to attend captains' meetings.
But Sasakibe was an exception. Having served as Yamamoto's right hand for so many years, his abilities and competence were beyond question.
He stepped forward.
With a small black mustache and a high-collared uniform that lent him an air of refinement, Sasakibe began his report.
It didn't take long — just about ten minutes of formal documentation.
When he finished, Yamamoto murmured briefly, signaling the transition to the next stage of the meeting.
"That will do. May everyone continue to work diligently and give their utmost in service of the Seireitei's protection."
"Now that regular matters are settled… is there anything anyone wishes to bring up?"
Yamamoto's voice was calm and firm — a prelude to the true beginning of the meeting.
"Speak freely."
"Yes, sir!" came twelve voices in unison.
Even the most rebellious or arrogant among them wore serious expressions in his presence — such was the power and respect that upheld the Thirteen Divisions.
A brief silence followed, until a voice from one side of the room broke it.
"Well… I know what I'm about to say may embarrass someone here, but it's my duty. So I can't stay quiet."
The one who spoke was a man with a rounded afro and white-framed glasses.
He took a step forward, adjusted his glasses, and continued in a tone dripping with disdain:
"Four days ago, a certain individual caused a disturbance in the inner district… making quite a mess."
"I won't mention names, but I expect the one responsible to have the decency to speak up."
The Captain of the Seventh Division, Aikawa Love, declared.
Half the eyes in the room turned in the same direction.
At the end of the row, Kiganjō Kenpachi, who seemed completely detached from the meeting, suddenly flinched.
"Huh?!"
Clearly uncomfortable with the sudden attention, he shouted back:
"It was just a little fight! Nothing serious! Why make such a big deal out of it?!"
"A little fight?! I've lost count of how many times you've caused 'a little incident'!" Aikawa shot back, raising his voice to match. "You know who has to clean up your mess every single time?!"
It was a clash of thunderous voices.
"Guh…"
Cold sweat trickled down Kiganjō Kenpachi's forehead.
Used to swaggering around arrogantly, he was now struggling to deal with someone on equal footing.
"And from what I've heard, the one you fought was just a student from the Shin'ō Spiritual Arts Academy, right?"
The man who spoke next had long golden hair, which he casually twirled between his fingers while crossing his arms and smiling mockingly.
"To think you got hurt fighting a mere student… and now we're sitting here discussing it in a captains' meeting."
"Just imagining it makes me embarrassed for you. How pathetic."
The Captain of the Third Division, Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō, added.
Damn it!
Kiganjō ground his teeth, barely restraining his anger — but under Yamamoto's stern gaze, he knew he couldn't lash out.
He was surrounded.
Still, given his record and reputation, it wasn't unexpected.
The important thing now was to avoid showing weakness before the Commander-General.
"I just didn't use my full power! And that brat was slippery as hell… Ah, right! He definitely already had Shikai!"
"So what you're saying is that to defeat a student who just awakened his Zanpakutō, you needed to go all out?"
The voice that cut in dripped with sarcasm.
The Captain of the Fifth Division, Hirako Shinji, smiled provocatively.
"A captain who loses to a student and still makes excuses… you're a disgrace."
Usually laid-back and carefree, his tone now carried sharp contempt.
"And that's not even mentioning your past offenses. You've killed several of your own subordinates, haven't you?"
"They didn't die in battle against hollows or during missions. They died by your own hands."
"Tell me — what do you think your subordinates' lives are? Your personal property?"
"Even a captain has the authority to discipline his men, but let's be honest…"
"Everyone here despises you for it."
Hirako raised his hand with a broad grin.
"So then… who agrees with me?"
Silence.
Then, a figure who had been quiet until now raised his hand somewhat hesitantly.
"Well… I also think he's gone too far."
It was Urahara Kisuke.
Despite his mature demeanor and neatly trimmed beard, he seemed to be trying to ease the tension with a conciliatory smile.
But his words only made Kiganjō sweat even more.
"Four against one…?"
He never imagined being cornered like this.
Why? What did I do to deserve this?
I've always acted the same way — and now they treat me like the villain?!
Cold sweat poured down his face — whether from pain or sheer fear, even he couldn't tell.
And then, a woman's voice — firm and sharp as a blade — sliced through the air.
"To lose to someone beneath even a low-ranking officer and still have the audacity to justify yourself… you truly are hopeless."
Shihōin Yoruichi.
Unlike her usual casual demeanor, she now wore the haori symbolizing her rank as captain. With her arms crossed and chin raised, she stared down at him coldly.
"As captain of the Eleventh Division, where strength is the highest virtue, your conduct once had its logic."
"The strongest leads. It's natural that warriors would follow someone like you."
"But to lose to an unknown boy and then try to excuse yourself like this…"
She gave a faint smile, but her eyes radiated pure disdain.
"Tell me, don't you feel even a shred of shame?"
Her tone was calm, yet every word cut like steel.
"If you still have a shred of honor left… then end this right here and now."
And with that final, glacial look from Yoruichi, the entire hall fell into a deathly silence.
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