Tenth Division

When news of the Onmitsukidō's establishment reached Central 46,

Central 46 privately convened an informal meeting—not in the council chamber, but at the private residence of a senior councilor.

"What is the Shihōin Clan trying to do?!"

The speaker was an elderly councilor with white hair and beard. The hand he slammed on the table was trembling—not from anger, but fear.

"The Onmitsukidō, five divisions: execution and assassination, patrol and inspection, the monitoring tower, searches for the missing, urgent communications! How is this a military unit? This is an intelligence agency!"

No one refuted him.

Everyone present had seen the leaked organizational structure.

The five divisions' duties had been divided far too clearly—so clearly it sent chills down their spines. The Punishment Force handled assassinations; the Patrol Corps inspected Soul Reapers; the Supervision Corps guarded the Maggot's Nest; the Feimou Corps searched for the missing; the Inner Court Corps handled urgent communications. None of those duties seemed excessive on its own, but put together—

The Second Division was no longer the Gotei 13's Second Division.

It was Seireitei's eyes and hands. Its eyes watched everyone from the shadows, and its hands could reach anywhere from those same shadows.

"Shihōin Qianri!!!" Another councilor spoke, his voice lowered and drawn out.

"How could Yamamoto agree to this?" someone asked.

"Yamamoto couldn't possibly not know what this means. He understands it better than we do!" a councilor shouted.

No one could answer.

A middle-aged councilor who had remained silent all this time suddenly spoke. "Have you considered that it wasn't Shihōin who wanted this, but Yamamoto who gave it to him?"

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Even so, there was no need to give it to the Shihōin Clan!" one councilor said.

"Who else could it have gone to besides the Shihōin Clan?" the middle-aged councilor interrupted him.

"Tsunayashiro? Kuchiki? Shiba? The Tsunayashiro Clan at least stays out of conflicts on the surface. The Kuchiki Clan only guards its own little patch of land. The Shiba Clan... the Shiba Clan... Only Shihōin Qianri is in the Second Division. Only he is willing to take on this hot potato! And he is very willing!"

The room fell silent for a while.

The elderly councilor lifted his teacup. His hand still trembled, but his tone had grown steadier. "Even so, now that the Shihōin Clan has this..."

"The Shihōin Clan has always had this," the middle-aged councilor said.

"The Heaven-Bestowed Armament Division, Shunpo, Hakuda, the Onmitsukidō tradition—Yamamoto hasn't given the Shihōin Clan anything new. He has merely laid bare what was once half-hidden."

Another silence followed.

Suddenly, a councilor in the corner who had not spoken until now let out a low sound. "No matter what Yamamoto was thinking,"

he said, "the Onmitsukidō has been established regardless. From now on, the Second Division's authority will exceed that of all the other divisions combined."

He paused and looked around at those present.

"Is it truly a bad thing for the Shihōin Clan to monitor Soul Reapers?"

No one responded.

"For us, it is a good thing."

He continued, lowering his voice even further. "The Gotei 13 has always been Yamamoto's personal domain. The Captain-Commander controls the captains, the captains control the division members, and outsiders cannot get a hand in. But now, the Second Division's Patrol Corps can patrol and inspect within Seireitei. Their inspection targets are all Soul Reapers. In other words, members of the Shihōin Clan can inspect any Soul Reaper's actions anywhere in Seireitei."

He paused, allowing those words to hang in the air a little longer.

"Perhaps... through the Shihōin Clan, we can learn what the Gotei 13 does every day."

The elderly councilor set down his teacup. Its base struck the tabletop with a crisp sound.

"You mean—"

"I said nothing."

He picked up the wine cup before him, took a sip, and said no more.

Everything that needed to be said had already been said. There was no need to say anything else.

Those present exchanged glances. Some frowned, some lowered their heads to drink tea, and some expressionlessly turned the rings on their thumbs.

No one objected, and no one agreed.

Yet everyone was calculating the same thing: how to establish a connection with the Shihōin Clan.

The topic died naturally in the silence.

Gradually, some began discussing Shin'ō Academy's enrollment, some complained that the Hollow-clearing progress in Rukongai was too slow, and some worried about when their clan's younger generation could become seated officers. The Onmitsukidō was no longer mentioned, as if that conversation had never happened...

The Shiba Clan residence stood on the northern side of Seireitei's outer ring. Among the Four Great Noble Clans, it was the least particular.

Yamamoto had not given advance notice. He stood alone before the Shiba residence.

The servant who opened the door froze for a moment. "C-Captain-Commander!"

Without exchanging pleasantries, Yamamoto simply said, "Get Chuanlu."

The servant hurried inside to report, while Yamamoto waited at the gate.

When Shiba Chuanlu emerged from the rear courtyard, his hands were still smeared with dirt. He had been tending the flowerbeds in the yard.

"Old Man Yamamoto."

"Mm."

The two stood at the gate, neither showing any intention of going inside first.

Yamamoto spoke. "Wang Tuchuan Yuxuji has not awakened."

Shiba Chuanlu nodded. He knew that already. Ever since the invasion, the Tenth Division captain had lain in Shin'ō Medical Institute. The doctors said they did not know when he would wake up, nor whether he could continue serving as captain after he did.

"The Tenth Division cannot be without a captain," Yamamoto said.

Shiba Chuanlu was silent for a while. He wiped the dirt from his hands and looked Yamamoto in the eyes. He already knew what Yamamoto was going to say. "I'm not going."

"I know you're not going."

Shiba Chuanlu did not ask how he knew. Such questions and answers were unnecessary between him and Yamamoto. He was the Shiba Clan head and could refuse on the grounds of clan affairs.

Yamamoto said, "Your younger cousin, Ichisegawa."

Shiba Chuanlu's brow twitched.

Ichisegawa. Shiba Ichisegawa.

That name was not particularly prominent within the Shiba Clan. In fact, it had been deliberately kept quiet. It was not because he lacked ability. Quite the opposite—he was too strong. The Shiba Clan had two captain-class fighters: one was Chuanlu, the clan head, and the other was Ichisegawa.

Yet Ichisegawa had never displayed his strength at formal noble gatherings, nor had he ever held any position within the Gotei 13. He merely remained with the Shiba Clan, handling routine clan affairs, occasionally fooling around in Rukongai. Seireitei's nobles hardly thought highly of him.

But Yamamoto knew.

Yamamoto knew the name of every captain-class combatant in Seireitei.

"He is indeed interested," Shiba Chuanlu said, a faint, almost imperceptible helplessness in his voice.

Yamamoto looked at him and waited.

Shiba Chuanlu hesitated, then stepped aside from the entrance.

"Come in. He's in the rear courtyard."

The Shiba residence's rear courtyard was even less particular than the front. There were several vegetable plots, a small pond stocked with koi, and an old cherry tree by the pond. Its blooming season had long passed, leaving only a canopy of green leaves. A man sat beneath it with a board before him, playing chess against himself. Black and white stones crisscrossed the board; it was clear the game had been going on for quite some time.

Shiba Ichisegawa was several years younger than Chuanlu and resembled him. Chuanlu's features were sharp, while Ichisegawa's were gentler. He looked more like a scholar than a Soul Reaper. He wore a gray casual kimono and wooden sandals, his hair loosely tied behind his head, a few stray strands hanging beside his ears. If not for the sword at his waist, no one would associate him with the words "captain-class."

Yamamoto walked to the chessboard and stopped.

Ichisegawa looked up at Yamamoto. He did not rise or bow. He merely glanced at Yamamoto, then lowered his head and continued placing stones.

"Old Man, are you here about the Tenth Division?"

"Yes."

Ichisegawa placed a white stone on the board with a crisp click. "But I have a question."

Ichisegawa raised his head, his gaze calm. "How many people does the Tenth Division have left?"

"Postwar statistics: forty percent of the division members were lost. The seated officer ranks remain intact, and the lieutenant is still there."

Ichisegawa nodded. "Old Man Yamamoto, I'll go."

Yamamoto nodded, then left with Shunpo.

Shiba Chuanlu walked over and stood beside Ichisegawa.

"You've decided?"

"Mm."

"No regrets?"

Ichisegawa looked down at the chessboard, picked up a black stone, and placed it in a position no one would have expected.

"Cousin, when you decided to become the Shiba Clan head, did you ever regret it?"

Shiba Chuanlu said nothing.

The following morning.

Tenth Division barracks.

Shiba Ichisegawa stood outside the barracks gate, dressed in a white captain's haori.

He had collected the haori from the First Division the previous afternoon. When Chojiro Sasakibe handed it to him, he had said little, merely following procedure and having Ichisegawa sign the receipt. Ichisegawa had folded it and brought it home, trying it on once that night. Old Man Yamamoto had been preparing for this all along.

He stood there for a while without entering directly.

The white haori was too conspicuous to miss.

A division member came out through the gate carrying a basin of water, likely intending to clean the windows. When he saw Ichisegawa, he nearly lost his grip on the basin. The water sloshed and spilled onto his shoes.

The division member stared at the white haori, then at Ichisegawa's face. He did not recognize him, and his voice became uncertain. "You are...?"

Ichisegawa did not answer. He lifted a foot and walked into the courtyard.

He walked to the main entrance of the barracks and stopped. Several division members had already gathered beneath the eaves, by the windows, and in the courtyard corners. More than a dozen pairs of eyes settled on him. Some faces showed confusion, some wariness, while some simply stared without thinking anything at all.

Ichisegawa spoke. His voice was not loud, but everyone in the courtyard heard him clearly.

"I am Shiba Ichisegawa. Starting today, I am the Tenth Division's captain."

No one spoke.

The silence lasted three to five seconds. Then someone spoke. It was the Fourth Seat standing beneath the eaves. His voice was quiet, but he spoke every word slowly, as though afraid he had heard the answer wrong. "What about Captain Wang Tuchuan?"

Ichisegawa looked at him.

"Wang Tuchuan Yuxuji has not awakened."

His tone did not change, as if he were stating a fact. "The doctors at Shin'ō Medical Institute say his Reiatsu is recovering, but they do not know when his consciousness will clear. The Tenth Division cannot be without a captain, so I have come to take his place."

"Take his place?" The Fourth Seat repeated the phrase, not in challenge, but confirmation.

Ichisegawa said, "From now on, I am your captain."

That was far too blunt.

No one cheered, and no one objected. Some lowered their heads to look at their shoes, some turned to look at the construction materials piled in the courtyard, and some stood motionless beneath the eaves. The Fourth Seat could only nod.

"You. Bring the division roster, equipment inventory, and recent patrol schedule to the captain's office." Ichisegawa pointed at the Fourth Seat.

"Yes." The Fourth Seat had no reason to refuse. An unfamiliar captain had arrived, and he could find no grounds to argue—at most, he could report to the First Division to confirm the information.

Then Ichisegawa began looking around for the captain's office on his own.

Behind him, the voices of the division members slowly rose like water.

"He said Captain Wang Tuchuan still hasn't awakened?"

"That white haori... he really is a captain..."

"Has he come to take Captain Wang Tuchuan's place...?"