"Old as I may be, I'm only trying to remind you—do not abuse the divine eye of Mimihakki."
Yamamoto's gaze hardened as he delivered the warning in a deep, commanding voice that seemed to press down on the tea house like a weight.
"You already know that Mimihakki is the Right Hand of the Soul King. That alone should tell you how important that being is—to the Seireitei, and to all three worlds."
"A power of that level is not something to use casually."
Kisaragi Akira nodded repeatedly, matching Yamamoto's seriousness on the surface… while clearly thinking about something else entirely.
"Of course. As the shrine's kannushi, I respect Lord Mimihakki very much," Akira said earnestly."I only greet Him once a day, check in occasionally about how things are going back at the shrine, ask Him to help freeze restless spiritons, help me analyze my blade meditation, and maybe consult Him on any shortcuts for the end-of-term exams…"
As the list continued, Yamamoto felt his fist slowly tightening.
This brat… had absolutely zero concept of reverence.
Who greeted their deity every day like they were neighbors?Who treated the God of the shrine like a living hotline, calling for updates on shrine maintenance?!And asking a divine being to help with basic shinigami training—like blade-zen—was beyond outrageous.And cheating on exams by directly contacting the god?!
No wonder Ukitake had nightmares.
"You behave with such reckless abandon… aren't you afraid that Mimihakki will blame you for it?" Yamamoto said, barely restraining the urge to punch him across the room. His voice rumbled with a dangerous calm.
"Blame me?"Akira blinked at him in genuine confusion.
He looked at Yamamoto for a long moment, then suddenly grinned.
"Ah, I see what you're thinking, old man."
"Actually, Lord Mimihakki isn't arrogant at all. He doesn't look down on people, or raise His chin like certain people who stare down their noses at everyone."
Akira coughed lightly.
"He's just quiet. That's all."
Kisaragi Akira didn't remember much about the intricate lore of Soul Society—like the exact meaning of "the Soul King's Right Hand." Too many details were fuzzy. But after growing up at the Inukotsu Shrine, he did understand one thing very clearly:
He knew Mimihakki's real temperament.
Calm.Even-tempered.Obsessed with equivalent exchange.
Akira spent years spreading Mimihakki's name across the districts of the outer Rukongai, bringing the deity a steady flow of faith. For a being who valued balanced offerings and mutual benefit, that alone was more than enough to overlook Akira's "occasional" improprieties.
To Akira, Mimihakki wasn't so much a god…More like a friend he could rely on.
Hearing all this, Yamamoto's worldview—shaped by centuries of discipline—was quietly cracking.
He had known for ages that the Inukotsu Shrine worshipped the Right Hand of the Soul King. Because of that, he had always approached the matter cautiously.Reverently.With deep respect.
Befriend the Soul King's Right Hand?
How many nerves did someone have to lack to even think of interacting with such a being on equal footing?
Yamamoto stared at the boy before him—this casually chatty, tea-sipping, utterly unbothered first-year student. His subordinates had already reported that Akira had received recruitment invitations from Yoruichi of the Shihōin Clan, Kuchiki Aotsumi, Unohana, and even Otoribashi.
And yet he was still just a freshman.
Just what kind of gravitational pull did this brat have?
Was it only talent?
"…I understand," Yamamoto finally said, giving the slightest nod. He looked like a man forcing himself to accept the rules of a foreign universe.
Seeing that strained expression, Akira frowned and set down his empty teacup.
"Captain-General, there's no need to force yourself," he said seriously."There's actually a very easy way to prove everything I said."
Yamamoto opened his mouth—
But Akira didn't give him a chance.
He slipped off the blue-and-white Jin'o Academy uniform jacket, revealing the intricate priestly garments beneath.
A full shrine kit unfolded onto the table:a ceremonial cup, a gohei wand, a bell, incense sticks.
Everything needed for a ritual.
Reiryoku surged around him, swirling in a tight spiral.
Kisaragi Akira's face grew solemn.
"As the kannushi of the Kisaragi Shrine, I call upon the One-Eyed Great God—Mimihakki…"
He chanted a string of ritual incantations. A familiar pulse stirred from the distant eastern Rukongai, traveling through the shrine implements as its conduit.
The divine eye of Mimihakki descended upon Squad One.
Hum—
The air trembled. Raw spiritual pressure spilled across the tea table, weaving itself into the silhouette of a one-eyed shadow.
"For the offering… hmm. This should do."
Under Yamamoto's stunned stare, Akira reached into his pocket and pulled out two freshly roasted sweet potatoes, their aroma sweet and warm. He placed them seriously on the table.
"Release the divine eye stored within the shrine."
The shadow poured from the ceremonial cup, its branching tendrils merging into a single, floating right hand—its palm bearing a solitary eye. A cold, emotionless aura filled the tea house.
As the pressure settled, Yamamoto's expression turned razor-sharp. Even his half-closed eyes slid open, fire sparking from within.
The divine eye drifted, its presence swelling. At last it stared directly at Yamamoto.
In that instant, spiritual pressure collided—two titanic forces crashing into one another.
Time seemed to stop.
The air warped.The space trembled.A suffocating sense of confrontation filled the tea house.
Yamamoto stared back at the floating right hand, flames roaring behind his pupils as though he intended to incinerate the very room.
After a long moment, Mimihakki's eye lowered and turned toward a slightly frozen Kisaragi Akira.
A cold, disordered voice echoed through the shaking tea house:
"…Not… enough…"
Yamamoto blinked and stared at Akira in bewilderment.
What on earth was this brat doing?
As someone familiar with the deity, Akira immediately understood.
He coughed lightly.
"You misunderstood, big guy."
"I was just introducing you two. This is our Captain-General—Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni."
"I wasn't trying to start a fight…"
Mimihakki stared at Yamamoto for a moment, then nodded. The shadow dissolved, collapsing back into darkness before vanishing entirely.
But not before snatching the roasted sweet potatoes from the table.
Misunderstanding resolved.
Yamamoto silently stared at the sheepish boy across from him.After the explanation, he fully understood what had just happened.
"A misunderstanding. Just a misunderstanding," Akira insisted."I already performed a ritual before coming here, so Mimihakki thought I was in danger.""Pure coincidence. Really."
Yamamoto said nothing. His eyes drifted over the gohei and incense scattered on the table.
Even if it had been an accident… the scene proved just how important Akira was to Mimihakki.
After another moment of contemplation—and with Akira starting to sweat from the silence—Yamamoto finally spoke.
"…By the way."
"You mentioned divination earlier. Can it really calculate anything?"
Akira: "???"