Chapter 47: Yamamoto — I’m Worried About This Family

In his quarters, Yamamoto Shigekuni Genryūsai sat quietly, practicing calligraphy. Life had been strangely empty since founding the Gotei 13. He had expected endless battles, strategy, and chaos. Instead, most of his days were spent drinking tea and practicing brush strokes.

At least his Vice-Captain, Yamabuki Haruto, had been keeping busy—coming up with ideas, chasing down tasks, implementing measures Yamamoto hadn’t even thought of.

Yamamoto had just finished a line of calligraphy when a faint, desperate voice echoed outside:

“Captain! Help!!!”

He frowned. A hallucination?
Wasn’t Haruto out on a mission? Impossible. He must’ve misheard. Yamamoto sipped his tea.

Meanwhile, Haruto was sprinting for his life, ragged and near collapse. Old man! If you don’t come out, your Vice-Captain will die here!

With a desperate burst, Haruto flung open the door and collapsed into Yamamoto’s room like a beggar, gasping on the floor.

Yamamoto raised an eyebrow. How could my Vice-Captain return from a mission in such disgrace?

Before he could speak, Kano Chiharu burst in, naginata flashing, eyes blazing.

So—that was it. A duel. Understandable.

“Stop right there! How dare you trick me!” she shouted, blade leveled at Haruto.

“Sis, can’t you stick to the point?!” Haruto wailed. “Weren’t you trying to silence the witness? The way you put it, you’re making me sound like some heartless man deceiving women!”

Yamamoto’s eyes shifted toward Haruto, suspicion glinting.

“Captain, it’s not what you think! Please listen to me—ahhh!!!” Haruto’s plea was cut short as Chiharu swung at him.

Haruto stumbled, nearly in tears. Captain, you’ve changed! You’re just sitting there, drinking tea while I’m hacked to pieces! You’re not my good captain anymore—you’re not my lifelong buddy!

Yamamoto calmly sipped his tea.
“It’s great to be young—so full of energy. Haruto, you fool. Why didn’t you just lie? She’s clearly not the kind of girl who lies. Now she’s turned on you.”

“Captain!” Haruto cried.

“As a man, you must be responsible,” Yamamoto said solemnly.

“Responsible?! For what?! She’s trying to kill me!” Haruto yelped, dodging another swing.

“This is your fault, Haruto. How could I interfere in family matters? Solve it yourself.” Yamamoto shook his head, lowering his gaze back to his tea.

The next instant, Chiharu’s naginata cleaved downward with the force of a thousand troops. Haruto leapt onto the roof, scrambling for safety, but Chiharu followed, tearing half the house down in her pursuit.

“Wait—stop! This is my room!” Yamamoto barked—

BOOM!

Half the house crumbled under Chiharu’s strike.

Yamamoto stared at his chipped teacup, veins throbbing across his forehead.

“You two brats… ENOUGH.”

A wave of spiritual pressure thundered across the compound.

Moments later, Haruto and Chiharu knelt side by side amid the ruins, obedient as lambs.

Haruto quickly explained everything, desperate to clear his name. Yamamoto tried not to laugh. Why does this kid always stumble into such ridiculous situations? Truly unlucky.

But Yamamoto’s eyes lingered on Chiharu. Her raw strength was impressive—on par with Saitō Furofushi. A talent worth keeping.

“Kano Chiharu,” Yamamoto said at last, “I understand your nature. You crave bloodshed, yet your upbringing forbids it. But what is ‘education’? Its true purpose is to nurture talent—not to suppress it. If rules are chains that strangle your nature, then such rules are worthless. I have seen your power. Abandon those shackles. Join the Gotei 13, and release your true self.”

Chiharu glanced at him silently. This old man had floored her in less than thirty seconds barehanded. She couldn’t defeat him—so perhaps she should listen. And what he said… did make sense.

The urge to fight, to kill—why suppress it?

She nodded lightly.

Haruto nearly fainted. This old man just… persuaded her?! In seconds?!

He realized something important: If you lack strength, don’t expect others to reason with you. Only overwhelming power gave one the right to speak.

“Captain,” Haruto remembered suddenly, “there’s another matter. We found a pile of corpses in the outer Rukongai districts, all with blade wounds. Should we send someone to investigate?”

Yamamoto’s eyes closed.
“No. We don’t have the manpower. As long as the culprit doesn’t go too far, we’ll ignore it.”

Haruto wasn’t surprised. To Soul Society, the common people of Rukongai weren’t truly considered lives—merely pieces to maintain the balance of the realms. Even during the Thousand-Year Blood War, Yamamoto had tolerated Mayuri slaughtering thousands to maintain equilibrium.

Ruthless. But that was Yamamoto’s way. It was that very ruthlessness that kept Soul Society’s peace for centuries.

Haruto sighed but said nothing. The Captain had spoken.

“Go rest, both of you,” Yamamoto said. “You’ll be summoned when needed.”

And so Haruto led Chiharu away, finally—finally—managing to calm the demoness down.