Chapter Thirty-One: A Century

A hundred years have passed since the all-out assault on Hueco Mundo instigated by Reiss. In this century, many events have transpired, yet undeniably, the Soul Society has thrived, moving steadily toward prosperity.

Over the past hundred years, to consolidate the supreme influence and fighting strength of the Seireitei within Soul Society, Captain-Commander Shigekuni Yamamoto wielded his authority relentlessly, frequently replacing the captains of the thirteen squads. Only recently has this ceaseless reshuffling begun to abate. Now, the men who stand at the apex of each squad are figures whose mere footsteps send tremors through the Soul Society.

Our protagonist, Chojirou, is presently a guest in a grand manor.

"Forgive me for intruding, Lord Yasuda."

"Haha, not at all. I am delighted that you’ve spared time for this old man," replied Yasuda Honsei, the former Captain-Commander, setting down his teacup with a smile.

Since stepping down from his post, Yasuda’s once lively courtyard had fallen into silence—a true taste of what it means for a house to stand deserted. Due to Yamamoto’s dire need for personnel, Yasuda had even entrusted his trusted steward, Anyo Ichigen, to him, hoping to be of some assistance. This left Yasuda with even fewer companions.

"But..." Yasuda glanced at Chojirou, then helplessly pointed to Chojirou’s legs. "Aren’t you a noble? You intend to sit like that?"

!

As a true inheritor of Japanese culture, Yasuda naturally sat in the traditional kneeling posture, while Chojirou, unable to adapt, sat cross-legged upon the tatami.

"Well... it's just more comfortable for me this way..." he muttered, scratching his head apologetically—what could he do if he couldn’t adjust to the customs here?

"Ah, never mind. I’ve heard Yamamoto’s temperament has soured lately..."

"Ah, yes, that’s true..." Chojirou looked down into his teacup, unconsciously sighing. "Though he treats me as he always has, when it comes to other matters, it’s as though he’s become a different man."

"I’ve heard as much," Yasuda closed his eyes, as though recalling something. "Twenty years ago, the great noble house of Kyuuma was annihilated for rebellion, wasn’t it?"

Chojirou remained silent. Truthfully, he still refrained from thinking about that event. Its horror was beyond words.

No army clashed, no fierce battles raged. Everything... was merely slaughter.

Alone and unarmed, without even his Zanpakuto, Shigekuni Yamamoto donned his captain’s haori and strode into the Kyuuma estate.

Confronted by hundreds of Soul Reapers—among them seated officers and even captains—Yamamoto showed no fear. He entered alone, drenched himself in his enemies’ blood, snapped the clan head’s neck, and tore every member of the family, regardless of age or gender, into pieces.

The already famed Thirteen Court Guard Squads became all the more terrifying after this incident.

Yamamoto, now so cold and merciless, revealed his gentle side only before Chojirou and Yasuda Honsei.

‘Did that event a hundred years ago affect Lord Ichimonji so deeply?’

"No matter what..." Yasuda interrupted Chojirou’s reverie. "I am but an old man. The only one who can stay beside him and aid him now is you, Chojirou..."

"I leave everything to you."

...

Seireitei, in the courtyard of Squad One.

Clear pond water, fed by bamboo pipes channeling spring water from between rocks, spilled into the pond, then the pipe tipped, pouring its contents and returning to its original position, repeating this process endlessly.

Thud.

The bamboo pipe dropped.

Shooooo~~~~

Shigekuni Yamamoto, for once, had removed his captain’s haori, quietly kneeling upon the tatami, savoring a rare moment of peace.

"You seem to be having a tough time lately, Lord Ichimonji," Chojirou remarked, lifting his teacup toward the resting Yamamoto.

"The captain positions in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads are still unsettled. How could this old man enjoy leisure?" Yamamoto glanced at Chojirou, his lips twitching slightly. "Well, Chojirou, what about the matter I discussed with you earlier..."

"Ah, that. Didn’t I already decline?" Chojirou sighed. With the vacancy in Squad Eight’s captaincy, Yamamoto had proposed Chojirou fill the role, but Chojirou, intent on preserving his own life, had refused without hesitation.

"Then act as acting captain for now. When a suitable candidate appears, you may return to Squad One."

"Don’t make things difficult for me, Lord Ichimonji. I truly am not cut out for this..." Chojirou grimaced. Temporary? Yamamoto’s intentions were obvious to Chojirou, who’d served him for over a hundred years: he planned to make the arrangement permanent, so Chojirou would have no choice but to accept.

"Is the vice-captain’s position really so attractive to you?"

‘It’s just that I don’t want to stand out and die young...’

Of course, Chojirou only thought this to himself—he’d never dare say it aloud to Yamamoto.

"But actually, I do have a good candidate for Squad Eight’s captain..."

"Hmm?"

"I hear he’s only mastered Bankai in the past few years..."

Thud.

The bamboo pipe outside dipped once more.

"Who?"

Yamamoto truly had not heard of anyone achieving such a feat recently.

...

"Huh? Me?" Di Chunyi looked at Chojirou, bewildered, then slanted his eyes. "Too much trouble. I’m not doing it."

"Hey, hey, it’s a captain’s position! Many people would kill for it," Chojirou spread his hands, utterly helpless. He knew Di Chunyi’s character well and had anticipated this reaction. But he was prepared.

"What’s it got to do with me?"

"I’m telling you," Chojirou extended a finger, grinning like a mischievous uncle tempting a child, "Once you become captain, you can freely challenge other squads—and if the Captain-Commander has time, you can even fight him."

"The Captain-Commander..."

Clearly, a battle-hungry fool had taken the bait.

"Tempted? Then just touch Uncle’s big goldfish—cough, I mean, accept the captaincy."

Dangerous—almost let slip his true nature.

Wait, is that really my true nature? Chojirou wondered.

"If you say so, I suppose I could take the role, but—"

!

Suddenly, Di Chunyi drew his blade, grinning wickedly at Chojirou. "Forget the Captain-Commander—first, let me fight you!"

Ahh...

So it’s come to this after all...

A faint sadness welled in Chojirou as he scratched his head.

"Next time, then."

"Stop right there!"

"Only a fool would stop!"

"Let me cut you!"

"Damn it! I haven’t the strength to retort anymore, ahhh!"