First Division Barracks.
In the steam-shrouded hot spring.
A tea stove gurgled with rising steam. Ryujin Jakka lay within, its gentle flames providing steady heat to keep the tea boiling.
As a Zanpakuto indispensable for home and travel, Ryujin Jakka had gradually grown accustomed to a life where it was fighting for its life one moment, then boiling tea and roasting sweet potatoes the next, with the occasional duty of heating a hot spring.
More precisely, it had gone numb.
Destroy it all, this world...
In the hot spring, Su Feng held a teacup and took a light sip, letting the scalding, fragrant tea moisten his teeth before flowing smoothly down his throat and warming his entire body.
"Now this is relaxing. This is what a good life should be."
Yamamoto Genryusai soaked beside him, his eyes half-closed, a white towel resting atop his head. His graying beard floated on the water, making for an especially exaggerated sight.
A small wooden table floated beside him as well, carrying the faint scent of alcohol.
How long had it been? He could no longer remember clearly.
The last time he had enjoyed such a carefree vacation seemed to have been many years ago.
In recent years, Soul Society had seemed to stir up a hornet's nest, with every sort of natural and man-made disaster emerging one after another.
First, the Rebel Army caused trouble and harassed the borders of Rukongai. Then the Five Great Noble Clans fought over their interests and slaughtered one another.
Menos invaded the Human World, Su Feng purged the nobles, Aizen rebelled, the Wandenreich appeared...
One incident after another piled up, enough to crush a person to death.
Only he, Yamamoto, possessed over two thousand years of life experience and a will so tenacious that ordinary people could