Hearing that, Ōmaeda Kishin froze for a moment, unable to continue lecturing.
Even though Yoruichi was only the current heir of the Shihōin clan, the structure of the clan meant her authority was already considerable.Since this was someone Yoruichi herself had brought home, Kishin had no grounds to pursue the matter further.
"Since he's Lady Yoruichi's guest, I'll refrain from questioning it," Kishin said, bowing respectfully. "But now that you've returned, please don't forget the matter from before. The elders have already urged me several times."
At those words, the cheerful expression on Yoruichi's face dimmed instantly. She waved her hand impatiently.
"I know, I know. Don't nag."
With that, she hooked an arm around Kisaragi Akira's shoulders like an old friend and dragged him toward the courtyard.
Watching their backs grow distant, Kishin's eyes filled with worry. Under his breath—barely audible—he muttered:
"This is a critical time, Lady Yoruichi…If something goes wrong, the consequences will be serious.And also…"
He frowned deeply, unable to understand.
"Surely Lady Yoruichi didn't take her own words seriously…? Even if Kisaragi Akira has talent, you wouldn't really take him as a son-in-law, would you? Any lower noble will do for political marriage—you're not going to let your heart be swayed by a kid like him, right…?"
......…
Tea House.
At the deep green tea table, the two sat across from each other as warm, fragrant steam curled into the air.
Kisaragi Akira held his cup with content ease.
When in the Shihōin household, one should simply enjoy oneself.Whatever else could be said, their tea was leagues better than Yamamoto's bitter brew.
"Actually," Yoruichi began, not bothering with preamble, "I brought you here because I need your help."
"It's about your Zanpakutō, isn't it?"Akira set his cup down and raised his gaze toward her.
Yoruichi blinked, surprised. "How did you know?"
"Please," Akira scoffed. "You practically wrote the answer across your forehead."
The last two times he'd met Shihōin Yoruichi, the dark-skinned girl always wore a carefree grin.But today, the corners of her eyes were heavy with worry.
She demanded a divination within minutes of meeting him.Then used "payment" as an excuse to drag him all the way into the Shihōin estate.
If it wasn't about her Zanpakutō, what else could it possibly be?
…Unless she really was rushing to marry him into the clan?
"You guessed right," Yoruichi admitted, her smile fading. She sighed quietly. "It really is about the Zanpakutō. And after hearing your divination earlier, I'm afraid the problem might be even more real than I thought."
Akira blinked. "That serious?"
"Extremely serious."Her expression was no joke.
Seeing that, Akira straightened up, setting aside all frivolity.
"Explain."
Yoruichi glanced around, ensuring no servants or guards were nearby. Then she grabbed Akira by the collar and pulled him close, whispering:
"…The truth is, I don't have a Zanpakutō of my own."
Akira gave a small nod—completely unsurprised.
In his memory, many Shinigami actually didn't possess their own Zanpakutō.The Kidō Corps was the prime example.
As Yoruichi continued, the situation gradually became clear.
The truth was, almost no head of the Shihōin clan had possessed their own personal Zanpakutō.
The Shihōin clan had a family Zanpakutō, a blade passed down from the first ancestor and said to embody the clan's identity and tradition.Every new clan head had to earn the blade's acknowledgment before ascending to the position.
Only then were they considered a true head of the Shihōin.
For generations, the succession ritual had always gone smoothly.
Until it reached Yoruichi.
She could not obtain acknowledgment.
No matter the method of zazen meditation or communion, she could not even enter the Zanpakutō's inner world.It was as if the blade rejected her outright.
At first, the elders suspected she was unfit to become head.But when they had others attempt the ritual, they discovered—
No one could communicate with the blade.
The family Zanpakutō had completely sealed itself off.
Panic spread through the clan.
They scoured every method across Soul Society—ancient zazen techniques, blade-spirit lore, rituals bordering on forbidden arts—and even considered requesting help from the Shudō Research Institute.
None worked.
As the next head, Yoruichi felt immense pressure.Besides, the blade was supposed to be hers.
So she tried everything she could.
None of it worked.
Finally, frustrated and needing fresh air, she went out to clear her head…And overheard people gossiping about Kisaragi Akira's abilities.
On a whim—or perhaps instinct—she sought him out first, deciding to have him divine the Zanpakutō's fate.
The reading wasn't great…But deep within, she felt a new sliver of hope.
"So what you're saying," Akira summarized, "is… you want me to exorcise your Zanpakutō?"
"…Is that not possible?" Yoruichi asked, puzzled.
Akira's face twisted in conflicted horror."It's not that it's impossible… it's just that I usually exorcise curses from beautiful, youthful girls, not… swords."
He'd seen every sort of bizarre case in the Reversal District.He considered himself worldly by this point.
But this was definitely a first.
Yoruichi leaned forward, eyes shining with expectation.
"But we can try, right? Even if the chance is small, it's not zero, right?"
Akira fell silent, thinking deeply.
It wasn't that he didn't want to help—he was simply considering the right method.He had once reached his own Zanpakutō through ritual; although nothing concrete had come from it yet, it proved divine-communication techniques could affect Zanpakutō.
If that was the case, maybe something similar could work here.
"…Alright. Let's try."
He made his decision immediately.
Yoruichi's eyes lit up, and a wide smile broke across her face.
"Then there's no time like the present! Let's take care of everything today!"
Before he could protest, she grabbed him—smooth, practiced, merciless—and dragged him out of the tearoom.They passed through corridor after corridor, heading deeper into the heart of the Shihōin estate.
Their closeness did not go unnoticed.
Voices whispered as they disappeared around a corner:
Since when did Lady Yoruichi have such a close male friend…?
Soon, the two arrived before an ancient structure.A heavy, suffocating pressure radiated from it—like a mountain pressing down on the heart.
This was the place connected to the Shihōin clan's ancestral Zanpakutō.