"Hmph. Just for that sentence alone, I could charge you with insulting the nobility and have you thrown straight into Reviving Hell."
After a brief silence, Yamamoto snorted, regaining his usual composure.
"You're the one who told me to be honest," Naraku muttered under his breath.
Yamamoto was quiet for a few seconds, then his deep voice rolled through the room again:
"I have no intention of blaming you."
"I just want to remind you: in Soul Society, especially here in Seireitei where Shinigami are everywhere, you must learn to watch your words and actions."
"You have no idea how many eyes are watching you from the shadows. One wrong step and you could fall into an abyss you'll never climb out of."
Naraku glanced at the old man in surprise. He hadn't expected the famously stern Head-Captain to say something like that.
But he couldn't shake the feeling there was a deeper meaning behind those words.
"Honestly, Head-Captain," Naraku said earnestly, "someone has to speak the truth."
"If nobody wants to be that person, then I'm willing to be the first to stand up and try to change things."
A flicker of surprise passed through Yamamoto's eyes.
He hadn't expected someone this young to already have a resolve that surpassed most adults.
If everyone in Soul Society thought like Naraku, perhaps the place would've found new life long ago—
Instead of the lifeless stagnation it had now.
No hope in sight.
Like living in hell.
Yamamoto stared at Naraku for a long time, thoughtful light passing through his half-lowered eyes.
He knew very well that as Captain-Commander, every decision he made might change someone's life.
So before acting, he had to be careful.
Just as Naraku was struggling to stay awake and on his feet, Yamamoto suddenly spoke:
"Naraku Sora. Transfer to First Division."
"I will ask Warden Shutara for approval. From now on, you will remain in First Division as a seated officer."
The moment he finished, a familiar voice drifted in from outside the tearoom.
"No need. I don't agree."
The door slid open, and in the glow of the setting sun, a graceful silhouette appeared. The hem of an ink-black, intricately patterned dress trailed behind as she stepped into the room.
"Every time you spot good talent, you spare no effort trying to pull them under your own banner."
"Not very becoming of a Captain-Commander, is it?"
Seeing who it was, Yamamoto opened his eyes a fraction wider and stared at Shutara Senjumaru—who looked completely out of place in the austere room.
He spoke slowly:
"I merely offered him a choice. The one making the final decision is still him."
Their gazes locked for a moment, as if some unspoken understanding passed between them.
The next second—
A crushing pressure erupted.
Vast Reiatsu flooded outward unchecked, making the air itself feel thick.
Naraku struggled to breathe.
For the first time, he truly felt how terrifying Soul Society's top fighters were.
At his current level, he could barely survive the spillover from their clash.
If either one actually directed their full power at him, he wouldn't even leave a corpse behind.
The tearoom grew hotter by the second. Flames seemed to burn in Yamamoto's old eyes, as if he meant to incinerate the person in front of him.
On the other side, Shutara's aura was razor-sharp. Visible reishi threads wound through the room, occasionally brushing furniture and leaving clean, polished cuts wherever they passed.
Naraku sucked in several breaths of cold air and nearly spoke up more than once, but every time he opened his mouth, he shut it again.
With his flimsy health bar, he'd better not get involved. Those two were acting like they had some ancient grudge.
If he got caught in the crossfire, the consequences would be beyond tragic.
Luckily, the standoff didn't last long.
After a short impasse, Yamamoto was the first to withdraw his Reiatsu and returned to his usual calm.
Shutara's face also returned to its harmless, gentle smile, as though the previous Reiatsu explosion had nothing to do with her.
"He's wasted in the Central Prison," Yamamoto said.
"I disagree," Shutara replied. "There's no place more suitable for Naraku than the Central Prison."
"No room for negotiation?"
"That depends what you're offering."
Naraku could only stare, dumbstruck, at the scene unfolding before him—once again impressed by how black-hearted these old folks were.
One second they were ready to draw Zanpakutō and cut each other in half; the next second they'd put their weapons away and were calmly negotiating terms.
What happened to basic human decency?
Head-Captain, this isn't what you were saying earlier!
Does this damned Seireitei have any concept of human rights?
"How about making him an external First Division officer?" Yamamoto said in a low voice. "He can remain in the Central Prison, but when First Division has missions, we will—"
Before he could finish, Shutara cut in with a shake of her head.
"Old man Yama, don't push it. That brat is my handpicked subordinate. I've put a lot of work into him—even adjusted some experimental parameters just for him."
"Even the latest Shikai development tech was designed using him as the baseline."
Yamamoto's gaze darkened. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
Shutara smiled slightly, her eyes gleaming.
"Naraku is my favorite subordinate. My most valued colleague—"
"So you'd better sweeten the deal."
Naraku: "?"
He thought words like that would get Shutara scolded on the spot—but to his surprise, Yamamoto actually looked… thoughtful.
After a brief silence, he spoke.
"In that case, we'll choose a compromise."
"Naraku Sora will remain a member of the Central Prison, but he must also join the school of swordsmanship I founded—Genryū."
"As compensation, I will personally teach him some knowledge related to training."
Hearing that, Shutara's lips curved as she spoke softly:
"Deal."
On the way back, the two of them walked side by side under the fading sunset.
Naraku glanced at the "bad woman" beside him, confusion on his face.
"Warden, why does Head-Captain Yamamoto value me so highly?"
Shutara turned her head, smiling. "Brat, do you know the phrase 'boiling a frog in warm water'?"
Without waiting for him to answer, she continued on her own:
"When someone starts setting countless rules and restrictions for themselves out of fear or caution, they slowly lose who they originally were."
"That old man is exactly like that."
"You're different from his students. You really are from Rukongai. No status, no ties, no burdens. Someone who dares to bare a blade at nobles to defend the rules."
"But you'd better think carefully. Once you step onto this path, you may very well put your friends in danger."
Naraku froze.
He hadn't expected the consequences to be that serious.
If he remembered right, he only had one friend left, didn't he?
Aizen Sōsuke, you'd better stay alive, man.