Chapter 1 — The White Ribbon in a Lawless World
It has been one hundred years since I became the Third Head of the Shiba Clan.
One hundred years since Father died.
was a good clan head.
But he was not a good father.
He was distant. Cold. Married to duty.
And yet… he died protecting civilians from a Hollow far stronger than himself.
A noble's end.
A father's apology.
I was young when I inherited the mantle.
Too young, many whispered.
The Shiba Clan had already begun to weaken politically. Nobles circled like carrion birds. The world outside the Seireitei was lawless. Hollows roamed freely. Rogue Shinigami carved territories for themselves.
Nothing had changed.
Nothing ever changed.
But rumors began spreading.
A warrior.
A monster among monsters.
Gathering the strongest.
Creating order through force.
A name carried in whispers:
If given the chance…
I would join him.
Not for glory.
Not for war.
But because this world requires structure.
And structure requires sacrifice.
After Father's death, it was only Kirume and me.
My younger sister.
Mother died giving birth to her.
Father died protecting strangers.
So I became everything.
Brother. Father. Mother.
Clan head.
At first, the burden was heavy.
But adaptation is survival.
And survival is expectation.
A strong wind passed through my office one evening.
Cherry blossoms scattered across the tatami.
I paused my writing.
The air felt… displaced.
Like the world had exhaled sharply.
I adjusted my glasses.
"I fear something is about to happen."
Morning came.
Unlike other nobles, I required no attendants.
I tied my own long dark hair, fastening the white ribbon neatly at its end.
I wore my glasses.
I sheathed my sword.
And walked to the dojo.
Kirume was practicing her zanjutsu.
Her footwork was clean.
Her stance still needed refinement.
I concealed my reiatsu completely.
Stepped forward.
Swung downward.
She felt it.
Instinct over sight.
She dodged — barely.
Took several steps back.
But saw nothing.
I moved behind her.
My hand reached toward her side.
She reacted faster this time — blade rising in defense.
Steel met resistance.
"Good. You were able to block my attempt."
My voice was cold.
To others, perhaps cruel.
To her—
Familiar.
She sighed.
"Onisama, please don't do that."
"As future clan head," I replied calmly, "you must dodge worse than that."
She frowned.
Then relaxed.
"So how was your training?" I asked.
"It was good. Nothing to worry about. I'm having fun."
Fun.
That word did not belong to our world.
But I allowed it for her.
I nodded once.
"I will be going now."
And vanished.
Back in my office, silence returned.
Moments later—
A knock.
"Shirikawa-sama, a letter has arrived. Someone is requesting your time."
"Enter."
The letter was sealed with spiritual pressure far denser than most people could muster.
I opened it.
The moment my eyes scanned the contents—
They widened slightly.
Only slightly.
"Let him in."
The air shifted.
Reiatsu pressed against the walls like a contained inferno.
Heavy footsteps approached.
The sliding doors opened.
And there he stood.
Sword in hand.
Eyes sharp as drawn blades.
The man who would reshape Soul Society.
——Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto
He did not bow.
I did not stand from my seated position.
Two forces measuring each other.
He spoke first.
"You are young."
His voice carried heat even in stillness.
"And yet you hold your clan steady."
I adjusted my glasses.
"You are gathering warriors."
Not a question.
A statement.
His gaze sharpened.
"I am gathering monsters."
Silence lingered.
A faint smile touched the old warrior's lips.
"Join me."
Not a request.
An inevitability.
I stood.
White ribbon swaying behind me.
"If it brings order to this cursed world…"
"Then I will gladly help you."
And thus—
The Shiba Clan entered the storm.
End of Chapter 1.