"Yama-jii… maybe you should hide for a bit."
Kazuma had just been about to remove the barrier sealing off the surrounding area when he suddenly sensed several familiar reiatsu signatures outside.
Unohana Retsu, Kyōraku Shunsui, and Ukitake Jūshirō were all waiting right beyond the tea room.
If those three saw the Captain-Commander in his current state, things were going to get very interesting.
The thought alone nearly made Kazuma laugh.
"Why should I hide?"
Yamamoto raised an eyebrow, his expression radiating confidence and authority.
At that moment, he looked as though nothing in the world could possibly make him retreat.
"You're sure about that?"
Kazuma gave him a teasing once-over.
"Unohana and the others are literally waiting outside the tea room. And you, uh… currently look like this."
Yamamoto followed his gaze downward.
At the moment, he was wearing nothing except Kazuma's captain's haori.
Everything else was completely exposed!
"…"
Yamamoto froze.
Right.
Walking outside in this condition would absolutely destroy the dignified image he'd spent centuries building.
If word spread, his reputation might never recover.
Just as he began hesitating, Yamamoto's eyes suddenly shifted.
Then he looked Kazuma up and down with an equally suspicious expression.
His piercing stare sent a chill straight down Kazuma's spine.
"Yama-jii… what exactly are you planning?"
Kazuma instinctively took one small step backward.
A terrible premonition rose in his heart.
He already knew what the old man was thinking.
Yamamoto said nothing.
He simply advanced one step at a time, his expression stern as an immense pressure rolled off him like a moving mountain.
Kazuma kept retreating until his back hit the corner of the tea room.
There was nowhere left to go.
"What do you think?"
Yamamoto stared him down.
"Stop wasting time and take off your shihakushō!"
So that was it.
The old man had set his sights on Kazuma's clothes!
At this point, it really was the simplest solution.
"And if I refuse?"
With no room left to retreat, Kazuma gritted his teeth, straightened his back, and stubbornly refused to surrender.
"You wouldn't want something unfortunate to happen, would you?"
Yamamoto gave a low snort.
Ryūjin Jakka immediately erupted with blazing fire.
Kazuma's face changed instantly.
This old bastard was threatening mutual destruction!
If Kazuma refused, Yamamoto could simply burn both of their clothes to ash.
Then neither of them would have anything left to protect their dignity.
That would be genuine social death.
Kazuma's expression twisted painfully as he struggled internally for several seconds.
In the end, he surrendered.
"Fine… you win."
Grumbling bitterly, Kazuma reluctantly began removing his shihakushō.
His movements were deliberately slow, but under Yamamoto's merciless stare, he didn't dare drag things out for too long.
Before long, he'd stripped it off and obediently handed it over.
"That will do."
Yamamoto accepted the uniform with a satisfied smile.
"Since you were obedient, I'll return your haori. At least this way you can preserve a little of your dignity."
He immediately put on Kazuma's shihakushō and carefully adjusted the collar and sleeves.
Then, apparently remembering something, he tossed Kazuma's captain's haori back to him.
Kazuma caught it with an expression of pure misery and threw it over himself as quickly as humanly possible.
He already had a plan.
The moment he dropped the barrier, he'd activate Shunshin at full speed and flee this miserable place before anyone could see him.
Then a thought struck him.
Why bother running?
No matter how fast he moved, there was still a chance someone might spot him.
Rather than risk that humiliation, he could simply open a Senkaimon and return directly to the World of the Living.
Long ago, Kazuma had left an anchor point inside the First Division tea room specifically for travel between Soul Society and the Human World.
Now it was finally useful.
"Yama-jii! See you later!"
A sly grin appeared on Kazuma's face as he drew his Zanpakutō.
Yamamoto watched in confusion as space rippled gently and a Senkaimon slowly opened before them.
Kazuma didn't hesitate for even a second.
He shot forward like a rabbit escaping a predator and dove headfirst through the gate into the World of the Living.
At the same time, he released the barrier.
"That brat…"
Yamamoto stared at the disappearing Senkaimon, momentarily stunned before shaking his head with helpless amusement.
Kazuma traveling to the Human World without authorization was technically against procedure.
But considering he'd just surrendered his entire shihakushō to save Yamamoto's dignity, the Captain-Commander decided to overlook it.
Call it a special reward.
The instant the barrier disappeared, Unohana, Shunsui, and Ukitake rushed into the room together.
"Captain-Commander!"
"Yama-jii!" Shunsui and Ukitake shouted at the same time.
Then all three stopped dead.
Their jaws nearly hit the floor.
Yamamoto had become younger!
Unohana stared in outright astonishment.
She could no longer remember how many centuries it had been since she'd last seen Genryūsai looking like this.
Three hundred years?
Five hundred?
As she gazed at the painfully familiar figure of the Demon of the Sword, her thoughts drifted toward the distant past.
The comrades who'd once fought beside her…
Were they doing well in Hell?
What kind of existence were they living there now?
Shunsui and Ukitake, meanwhile, had completely stopped functioning.
Their minds were blank.
No matter how hard they tried, neither could understand why Yama-jii had suddenly reverted to the appearance of his prime.
"Hahaha!"
Yamamoto's hearty laughter abruptly filled the room.
It was genuine, unrestrained joy rising from the depths of his heart.
Perhaps even he could no longer remember the last time he'd laughed so freely.
"What is the matter? Is it truly so surprising?"
Yamamoto stood proudly before them.
"This old man merely gained a small power up and advanced another step in strength. You should be pleased for me. What are those ridiculous expressions?"
He could barely contain his satisfaction.
For years, Yamamoto had constantly complained that he was old and no longer what he once was.
Now?
What a complete nonsense!
He was Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni.
At his age, this was exactly when a man should be standing tall, full of ambition, and ready to shake the world once again.
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