Bleach: In Soul Society, I just want to retire

Yamabuki Detang and Yamamoto were sitting together in a small, dimly lit cave, the faint crackle of fire breaking the silence. The aroma of roasting sweet potatoes filled the air.

"All things in the universe will return to dust, and the blade will flow like fire!" Yamamoto declared with a grandiose tone.

"Call!"

Skillfully, Yamamoto inserted two sweet potatoes into his Zanpakutō, Ryūjĭn Jakka. The released flames danced across the blade, roasting the sweet potatoes to perfection. The cave's warmth became almost soothing, with the scent of caramelizing sweetness spreading around them.

"This function is so convenient! A must-have for home and travel," Yamabuki thought, eyeing the sweet potatoes hungrily.

Taking a deep breath, Yamabuki turned to Yamamoto. "Since I've already joined the organization, can we talk about something important? Like… my retirement?"

Yamamoto paused mid-roast, giving Yamabuki a curious look. "Retirement? What's that?"

"You know, taking the money without doing any work," Yamabuki said with a cheeky grin.

"That's impossible." Yamamoto's response was swift and merciless, his tone brooking no argument. He eyed Yamabuki with mild suspicion. "Do you think I have money to throw around? If I did, would I be here roasting sweet potatoes with you?"

Yamabuki sighed in defeat. "Fine, fine. I know it's a bit inappropriate to ask for retirement right after starting work. How about this instead—can you introduce the current members of the Gotei 13?"

As someone familiar with "Bleach," Yamabuki knew the history of the Gotei 13. He had been flung a thousand years into the past, to an era when the first generation of the Gotei 13 was being established. He recalled the key events: the creation of the organization, its powerful founding members, and the fierce battles with the Quincy. Chief among these was the legendary duel between the omnipotent Yhwach and the sword demon Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, a clash that left Yhwach gravely injured and comatose for a thousand years.

In other words, this was the prime era. If he joined the Gotei 13 now, victory was almost guaranteed—at least until Yhwach returned. Though he lacked a sense of accomplishment from winning without effort, survival and a steady salary were his top priorities.

Yamamoto stroked his beard thoughtfully at Yamabuki's question. Pointing first to himself and then to Yamabuki, he said in all seriousness, "At present, our manpower has doubled, from one to two. But I believe that, in time, more people will join the Gotei 13."

Yamabuki blinked, momentarily stunned. "Are you serious?"

Yamamoto continued, "In my vision, the Gotei 13 will have thirteen captains. You can pick any position you like!"

Yamabuki smirked. "Generous, aren't you? Offering me a captain's seat right off the bat." But then his expression shifted. He had no intention of being thrust into the front lines against lunatics like Yhwach and his Quincy army. Survival was key. "Forget it. I'll just be your vice-captain."

"Vice-captain?" Yamamoto echoed, visibly intrigued. "What's that?"

"A second-in-command," Yamabuki explained. "Someone who can handle orders and responsibilities when the captain isn't around."

"Hmm. That's an interesting idea," Yamamoto said, nodding. "All right, you'll be my vice-captain! But first, eat up. The sweet potatoes are done. After we've eaten, there's important work to do."

Yamamoto tossed a roasted sweet potato to Yamabuki, who caught it eagerly. For days, Yamabuki had been sustaining himself on spirit particles alone. The prospect of real food filled him with joy.

"Where are we going after this?" Yamabuki asked between bites.

"To recruit more members. Our next stop is Seireitei," Yamamoto replied.

The mention of Seireitei made Yamabuki's eyes light up. He wolfed down his sweet potato, barely taking time to chew. Seeing his enthusiasm, Yamamoto chuckled and handed over his own sweet potato.

"Eat more. You'll need your strength," Yamamoto said kindly.

Yamabuki was touched. "This old man isn't so bad after all," he thought as he polished off the second sweet potato.

Thirty minutes later, the two arrived at Soul Society. Yamabuki was surprised at how close Seireitei was, though he admitted he'd never have found it on his own.

The Seireitei of this era was nothing like the fortress it would become a thousand years later. There were no towering walls or powerful barriers to keep enemies out. Instead, it was an open city, with rows of grand buildings visible from the outskirts. Guards patrolled the area in small groups, their swords gleaming in the sunlight.

According to Yamamoto, these guards belonged to the noble families and were tasked with protecting their respective clans. The five great noble families lived at the center of Seireitei, while lesser nobles occupied the outer regions. In times of crisis, lower-ranking nobles were expected to risk their lives for their superiors, lest they lose their status.

Looking at the disparity between the opulent Seireitei and the impoverished Rukongai, Yamabuki sneered. "What a joke," he muttered. He knew the noble families' true nature from the stories he'd read. Most were selfish and corrupt, though there were exceptions, like Byakuya Kuchiki and Yoruichi Shihōin. The Tsunayashiro family, however, was pure trash.

"Can we just walk in like this?" Yamabuki asked, a hint of doubt in his voice. "What if they draw their swords and attack us?"

"What are you afraid of with me here? Let's go," Yamamoto said confidently, striding forward.

They hadn't taken more than ten steps before a guard blocked their path. "Stop right there! Lowly scum from Rukongai have no business entering Seireitei. Turn back now, or I'll cut you down!" the guard barked, drawing his sword.

Yamamoto didn't flinch. "Yamabuki, as the boss, I can't do everything myself. I'll leave this to you. Go handle it."

Yamabuki's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait, what? You want me to fight them? Isn't there a better way to do this?"

But Yamamoto's expression remained calm and expectant. Yamabuki groaned inwardly. "Great. My boss is a battle maniac."

Resigned to his fate, Yamabuki stepped forward. As he did, he unleashed his spiritual pressure—a wave of raw power that rippled through the air. The guards froze in place, their faces pale with fear.

Reiatsu. The overwhelming spiritual energy of a Shinigami.

For those with low spiritual power, standing in the presence of someone with high reiatsu was like being crushed under an invisible weight. Even seasoned warriors could be rendered helpless by it.

Yamabuki's reiatsu surged, crackling like an unseen storm. The guards dropped their swords and fell to their knees, unable to withstand the pressure.

Yamamoto watched with a satisfied smile. "Not bad," he murmured. "This kid might actually have potential."

Yamabuki, meanwhile, was more focused on containing his power. "Looks like I overdid it," he thought as the guards began to tremble and sweat profusely.

"Let's move," Yamamoto said, stepping past the incapacitated guards. Yamabuki followed, still radiating enough reiatsu to keep the path clear. As they walked deeper into Seireitei, Yamabuki couldn't help but marvel at how absurd his situation had become.

"All this just to recruit more members for the Gotei 13?" he muttered. "I hope this retirement plan is worth it."

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