Chapter 81: The Birth of the Shihakushō and Captain’s Haori

Kirinji Tenjirō’s fist slammed into Yamabuki Haruto’s eye socket. Pain seared through him, tears welling up. He aimed for my face on purpose! Still, Haruto escaped, Tenjirō’s curses echoing behind him: “Stop, you punk! I know it’s you!”

As long as I’m not caught red-handed, I’ll deny it to my grave. No cameras in Soul Society—Tenjirō had no proof.

The next day at Gotei 13 headquarters, Haruto wore oversized sunglasses to hide his black eye. Sasakibe Chōjirō approached, curious. “Brother Haruto, why the shades?”

“They’re stylish, right? Here, have a pair!” Haruto pulled out another set and handed them to Chōjirō.

“Thanks!” Chōjirō grinned, slipping them on.

Inside, Haruto spotted Tenjirō glaring with a forced smile. Haruto grinned awkwardly, guilt prickling. “Oh, Chief of Staff,” Tenjirō said coldly. “A rat got into my clinic last night. Know anything?”

“Nope,” Haruto lied.

“It ran fast. Took a punch and vanished. No loss, though.” Tenjirō tossed him a vial. Haruto caught it instinctively. “Bruise medicine. Can’t have the Chief of Staff looking sloppy on a mission. We’d lose face.” He paused. “The White Bone Hell and Blood Pool Hell tech is secure, but if it falls into the wrong hands…”

“Got it,” Haruto mumbled, sweat beading. Only a handful of captains knew of the springs, and Haruto’s interest singled him out.

The meeting began as Yamamoto Shigekuni entered. “Haruto warned of a coming war,” he said. “Our numbers are insufficient. We’ll expand recruitment across all four regions and 320 Rukongai districts, not just Seireitei and nearby areas.”

The Quincy threat loomed, already shared with the captains. They sensed a fierce battle ahead. “Starting tomorrow, captains will travel Soul Society to promote the Gotei 13 and recruit,” Yamamoto continued. “I’ll lead the effort. Haruto, you’ll guard Seireitei with Saitō Furofushi and Yanagi Junrei.”

Three captains together were near invincible. “Leave it to us,” Haruto said solemnly.

“Dismissed,” Yamamoto said. The Quincy didn’t faze him—his Ryūjin Jakka could handle any foe, even the Quincy King.

Expanded recruitment meant more resources, especially Zanpakutō and uniforms. As Chief of Staff, Haruto oversaw logistics. Perfect. He’d standardize Shinigami attire through his shop, solving the clothing issue and raking in profits. Genius.

He pitched the idea to Yamamoto, who nodded. “Good. Standardized uniforms add formality. Your factory can handle it. The nobles will pay, so you won’t lose out.” Yamamoto’s generosity came easy when it wasn’t his money.

Haruto envisioned the shihakushō, Soul Society’s iconic black robe, inspired by later designs. Some called it low-defense armor; others, a reiatsu gauge, like how Ichigo Kurosaki’s appeared upon transforming, its damage reflecting reiatsu loss. For most Shinigami, it was symbolic. Captains would wear white haori, their jagged hems like bird feathers, purely for style.

At the factory, Haruto shared the plan with Shutara Senjumaru. “Leave it to me,” she said, patting her chest. Thus, the first shihakushō and captain’s haori were born. Haruto designed his own haori, emblazoned with “Mō” (Strategist) instead of a squad number. A feather fan would complete the look—waving it to obliterate foes. Pure style.

Senjumaru’s work impressed Yamamoto, who allocated hefty funds for mass production. He donned the first captain’s haori himself.

Back home, Haruto descended to his underground training ground, where two replicated hot springs—White Bone Hell and Blood Pool Hell—stood. His talent extended beyond combat; analyzing the springs’ composition, he recreated them in days. Chosen one, indeed.