Chapter 14: A Soundless Tension

[Neutral POV]

Furuoki was a little disappointed. His efforts were for naught as his opponent managed to tire herself out. All it took was one swing to send her Zanpakutou flying from her loosened grip.

*Cling* *Ting* *ting*

*thud*

Furoufushi kneeled on the ground, her teeth bit into her lips. Blood trickled down her chin as she closed her eye. Her right hand, now free of a weapon, supported her left arm, relieving her of the pain burning in her shoulder. The black kimono she wore was drenched in liquid, darkening the fabric.

Furuoki's mouth opened as he hovered his blade over her injured shoulder. A breeze passed by on the street, causing their long hair to sway.

"Foolish. Weak. You can't even see anything. Having one eye fits you perfectly. You don't even know the opportunity you've been gifted. His tutelage isn't something you just pick up off the street like a feral cat. Let me guess, you charged ahead like a dogged beast that's never known anything else. Am I right?"

"…"

"Figures."

He pressed his blade on her open wound, sending pain shooting through her body.

"KRRR~ AHHH~! *gasp* *gasp*"

*whish*

"Don't feign arrogance and cruelty by harming my student. Your reason for coming, tell me."

Kenji appeared in between the two. Furuoki had already retracted his Zanpakutou from Furoufushi's shoulder. His drooping eyes softened slightly as he bowed to Kenji. A respectful voice left his mouth.

"Outogawa Furuoki! I'm pleased to meet the head of the Tengoku Clan!"

Kenji waved off the excessive show. His frank remark was flippant.

"Stop it, kid. There isn't a Tengoku clan. I need to get her treated, is there anything you need before I go?"

"I wish for you to instruct me in Zanjutsu!"

Furuoki lowered his head more and closed his eyes. But the young man was disappointed soon after.

"You're not a good fit kid."

Kenji crossed his arms, waiting to see how adamant the Furuoki was.

The Shinigami grimaced at the immediate rejection. He asked a question with a regretful tone.

"Is it because I harmed your student?"

Kenji shook his head, refusing the notion.

"No, I'll solve your curiosity by asking you questions instead. Be honest."

Furuoki straightened up and pursed his lips, preparing for the oral exam. Kenji's eyes narrowed as he spoke. His tone turned casual.

"Do you fight for your world?"

"No."

"Do you fight like a cornered beast?"

"No."

"Do you shed blood for fun?"

"No."

"You fight for glory."

"Yes."

"Then you're not a good fit. Simple as that. Although you have high potential and smarts, I won't accept you as a student. You can ask for something else."

"…"

Furuoki was deeply puzzled, his mouth like a gaping fish's. The questions were all straightforward. He didn't understand what was so different about him when compared to the wretch kneeling on the ground. The rejection stung but he let it go. To be the strongest swordsman, one needed to stay true to their path. Placing his fingers on his chin in thought, Furuoki made a snap decision to see where the path led.

"I wish to see your strength. I imagine I won't be able to understand the meaning of your sword, so I ask that I receive another form of understanding."

Kenji nodded his head, agreeing to the condition.

"Fair. I'll expose my Reiatsu to you."

Furuoki was immediately taken aback and tried to stop the possible destruction of their surroundings.

"Tengoku-dono! Please wait! We can decide on something later! Maybe a better location would suit our needs."

A playful smirk curled on Kenji's face. Speaking to the youngster in front of him, his voice was dismissive and final.

"Don't worry kid. Isolating it shouldn't be too difficult."

Unable to reason with Kenji, a chilling air surrounded Furuoki. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He tilted his head down where infinitesimal cracks split on the ground, forming a circle around him. Sweat dripped from his nose.

*shuuu~*

**FLUTTERING** **SQUAWK** **SQUAWK**

Furuoki's eyes met with Kenji's. What he saw in the dull black pupils left him inaudible. Rather, all sound was absent around him. It was as if he were in a pocket of space where the condemned would remain for eternity, their souls dissolving in the endless emptiness. The air around him shuddered, producing a mirage-like quality. A titanic, oppressive force compelled him to grovel; its archaic quality was grand. To bend before it was the natural course. Furuoki was able to glimpse into Kenji's distorted eyes one last time before his consciousness departed.

Rather than his own reflection, scenes of forlorn madness projected onto him.

He understood instantly. He was rightly unfit to be this fiend's apprentice.

*cough* *cough* *thud*

*shuuu~*

"Come Fu-chan, let's get you home."

"…"

"Come."

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

[Neutral POV]

[Current Year: ~900 A.D.]

A couple of centuries ago, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, Grandmaster of the Genji School had finally secured the support of 'select schools', allowing for the creation of the Shinigami Academy. Some time passed and a few decades ago, more schools fell under his umbrella. Various curriculum was now offered besides weapon arts and Zanjutsu. Things like Kidou were now widely available, even the highly sought-after Kidou light fixtures were placed in some buildings. Just a decade ago, a petition to rename it as the Spiritual Arts Academy was passed.

Subjugating Shinigami warlords, bounty hunters, and mercenaries under his banner had been a goal since he last saw the unification of Soul Society some millennia ago. As a young boy, he witnessed history, however, now its ink was beginning to bleed from its pages. Chaos and change have swept away the past as if it were dust.

Frustrated by the world's merciless nature, he shaped an image in his mind. An unshakable organization bound by one head rather than many, something the past failed to do. Something the present has failed to see. But the Shinigami's disorderly ways had reared its head, upsetting his grand ambition. Now, with the Soul King's approval, he began to move, seeking pieces that could secure peace for the coming millennia. However, not everyone would join him.

Many would fight against his oppression, seeking the same impunity they always enjoyed. Murdering and assaulting without consequence. The Shinigami had fallen low. To rectify their mistakes, he was willing to do whatever was necessary.

Near the newly established Shinigami Academy, Yamamoto, head instructor of the Seireitei's premier school, sat at a desk sorting through paperwork. Candlelight illuminated his black topknot. A thick pair of eyebrows and a full mustache added to his macho appearance. Two scars spanned across his forehead, one lent to his nickname, 'Eijisai'. Something he deeply disliked, yet allowed his centuries-loyal subordinate, Sasakibe Chōjirō, its usage.

Shuffling papers at his desk, he ceased. His beady eyes drifted toward an open window on the other side of the room. Facing the northern window, he stood up and walked closer. His steps were measured and soft as if to creep upon a sight he wished not to disturb. Halting at the window, he waited.

A breeze approached. Behind him, the candle standing on his desk flickered.

*shuuu~*

'Tengoku?'

A reminiscent murmur hung in the air. Yamamoto's eyebrows creased whilst his eyes fixated on something as if to peer through the structures between him and his aim. For minutes, he stood still waiting for something.

"…"

*shuuu~* *shii~*

The candle snuffed out. The absence of light allowed the creeping shadows to enclose on his figure. Standing in the dark, Yamamoto's eyes remained in the same spot.

Motionless, for thirty minutes he waited.

"…"

*exhale*

Releasing the suppressed tension in his body, his shoulders relaxed. His face loosened in relief. Lifting his hand, he stroked his mustache.

'Hmm... it should've been enough to prevent idiots from finding him.'

His mind spun, making plans to send someone out to investigate. Choujirou was his best option for such a mission. His mind built a feasible scenario as it aligned with his upcoming plans. He could afford to delay their meeting.

The recklessness of the Shinigami was evolving by the day. A drastic solution might be needed if playing politics with the current warlords harvested no yield.

"I haven't seen him in ages. Maybe a break from work wouldn't hurt?"

He returned to his desk, reigniting the candle. Picking up the papers on his desk, his face hardened in concentration. The efforts behind his work increased. He needed to accomplish his goals. There was a lot he needed to do. The people of Soul Society required reparations for the actions of all Shinigami. Even if he needed to trample over the weak to give them what they wanted, his mind was prepared. It was the least they could do.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hyousube Ichibei, leader of the Royal Guard, sat at a round table with his comrade and long-time friend, Nimaiya Ouetsu. Their room was simple, furnished with a couple of shared dining tables. His large build took up most of the space on his side of the table. A bald scalp gleamed under the flood of candlelight. Stroking his long black beard, he was sharing drinks at their usual time. The red prayer beads around his neck shifted and rattled as he downed his drink. Swallowing his spirits, he let out a hearty, satisfying sound.

"Kahhhh~! I need another after that Royal affair we saw. Dear me, that was hilarious! Haha!"

"Great show! Cheers to that!"

Ouetsu was always down for a couple more drinks.

"…"

"…"

Their bodies seemed to have paused for a second until Ichibei tilted his head down. Ichibei's scruffy eyebrows furrowed as his red eyes met Ouetsu's. Their faces were laden with a subtle awareness. A hush fell over the two men as they patiently waited for something.

The candles at their table quivered ever so slightly.

*shu~*

"Oi. Nimaiya…"

"Yo." *sippp*

"That just slipped through the 72 barriers?"

"Haaa~, Yup. Just a tiny, tiny bit."

"You said you met him not too long ago."

"Yeah, man. Picked up a daughter too. Crazy shit."

"Really? The boogeyman has a daughter now? My. I reckon the world is becoming stranger by the day. Even ghosts are having children now."

"Adopted, bro, adopted."

"Ahh. Makes a lot more sense now."

"She's got some guts for sure. A little wild though. Got some problems too. The man downstairs got it tough."

"Mmm~. I wouldn't mind meeting a little niece…" *sip*

"You should go, man. He's been doin' good too. Helluva thing seeing the guy. And one more thing... she's my niece, get it straight."

"Ha! We'll see about that! Hmm, it'll be a couple decades before I can get a break. It'll have to wait."

"…"

"…"

Time passed in silence. Seconds slipped by into minutes.

*shu~*

The candles quietly quivered once more as Ichibei's hulking shadows shifted in size. The two men shrugged off the minor strain.

"I'll go see if the King or the Family needs us. Let Kirinji know if he hasn't felt it already. He's still green behind the ears, might not be able to sense it yet."

"Nothin's happened man. S'all good."

"That isn't for me to decide. I'll see you if something happens."