Captain-Commander Yamamoto’s earth-shattering announcement sent a tremendous shock through everyone present.
But the captains stood at the pinnacle of Soul Society.
Once the initial shock passed, several of them quickly grasped the deeper logic behind the unbelievable information.
“A provisional member of the Royal Guard…”
Eighth Division Captain Shunsui Kyōraku repeated quietly, rubbing the edge of a hanafuda card between his fingers.
Beneath his straw hat, his thoughtful gaze passed over Yanagawa, then shifted toward Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, whose expression remained unchanged.
“Having the Royal Guard take over an investigation into twin Zanpakutō… does make sense.”
His murmured words seemed to awaken the others.
Fourth Division Captain Retsu Unohana gently set down her teacup.
Her warm, springlike smile did not change, but a trace of understanding passed through her eyes.
“Indeed.
If this anomaly touches upon the fundamental rules of Zanpakutō, then Royal Guard involvement is appropriate.
After all…”
She paused briefly, her voice soft yet clear enough for everyone to hear.
“Lord Ōetsu Nimaiya, the Sword God, resides in the Royal Palace as well.”
The Sword God, Ōetsu Nimaiya.
One of the Royal Guard.
The legendary creator and forger of all Zanpakutō.
That name was like a key, instantly resolving part of the captains’ confusion over why the Royal Guard would take interest.
The unprecedented phenomenon of “twin” Zanpakutō touched the very root of the Zanpakutō system.
For the Royal Guard, which included its creator, to handle the matter was entirely logical—one could even call it their responsibility.
Once that point became clear, the shock in the eyes of many captains, Sajin Komamura, Jūshirō Ukitake, even the cold-faced Byakuya Kuchiki, was replaced by grave understanding.
Their awe toward the Royal Guard, and their recognition of its authority, allowed them to reluctantly accept the arrangement.
Even so, the fact that the person carrying it out was an obscure member of the Kido Corps still felt deeply out of place.
And that sense of dissonance shifted the captains’ attention from why the Royal Guard was involved to Yanagawa himself.
Who exactly was this young man, soon to enter the Royal Palace and entrusted with investigating such a major incident?
At that moment, Gin Ichimaru, who had been silently observing with his foxlike smile unchanged, suddenly let out a drawn-out “Well now,” as if he had remembered something interesting.
“Yanagawa… Yanagawa…”
He tapped his forehead lightly, feigning thought, his narrowed eyes curving like crescent moons.
“I feel like I’ve heard that name before.
Many years ago, wasn’t there talk from Shin’ō Academy about some kind of genius?
Terrifying grades, especially outstanding in Kidō theory… wasn’t there something like that?”
His words sounded like self-talk, yet also like a reminder to everyone present.
At his prompt, several captains seemed to pull vague memories from the corners of their minds.
The top graduates of every Shin’ō Academy class, especially those called “geniuses”, would leave at least some impression on the captains, as future candidates worth recruiting or monitoring.
Tenth Division Captain Isshin Shiba rubbed his chin, then made a sound of realization.
“Oh!
I remember now!
There was someone like that.
His graduation scores were ridiculously good, and his Kidō exam was nearly perfect, right?
But afterward…”
He frowned, trying to recall.
“He didn’t join the Gotei 13, did he?
Where did he go?”
“The Kido Corps,” a cool voice answered.
It was Sixth Division Captain Byakuya Kuchiki.
His tone was flat and emotionless, as though stating an irrelevant fact.
“After graduation, he joined the Kido Corps directly.
Since then, little has been heard of him.”
Byakuya’s words were like the final piece of a puzzle, outlining Yanagawa’s obscure past.
A genius graduate of Shin’ō Academy.
Exceptional talent in Kidō.
Yet, unexpectedly, he had chosen the Kido Corps—a place far from the center of combat, focused on support and research.
After that, he had nearly vanished from public notice.
Until today, when he reentered the highest level of Seireitei’s attention in a way that shook the room.
“So that was him… the genius from back then.”
Unohana nodded faintly, looking at Yanagawa with a little more understanding and appreciation.
Sōsuke Aizen maintained his gentle, wise smile from beginning to end, like a tolerant elder watching a promising junior.
Now, he pushed up his glasses and spoke with a smile.
“Yanagawa, congratulations on your promotion.
If the Fifth Division can assist with this investigation in any way, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Aizen had indeed paid some attention to Yanagawa years ago.
Unfortunately, Yanagawa had been far too low-profile, so even he was currently uncertain why Yanagawa had been chosen by the Royal Guard.
His words were appropriate and considerate—offering congratulations while making clear his willingness to cooperate.
It perfectly matched his usual image.
Yanagawa gave Aizen a slight nod in response.
In any case, his identity as a provisional member of the Royal Guard, along with Yamamoto’s explicit appointment, had already wrapped him in an invisible armor of authority.
It would not be easily challenged.
“Then this matter is settled,” Yamamoto concluded, his gaze sweeping across the hall like fire.
Yet after announcing this, the Captain-Commander did not immediately dismiss the meeting.
His deep gaze rested on Yanagawa for a moment, as if observing how he reacted to such honor and responsibility. This story is hosted at novelping.com.
Yanagawa merely accepted the scrutiny calmly.
His posture was flawless, no elation, no fear, only a quiet focus as still as water.
“Sasakibe,” Yamamoto said slowly.
“Yes.”
Chōjirō Sasakibe, who had been standing at the side like a shadow, stepped forward.
At some point, a long rectangular lacquer tray had appeared in his hands.
It was crafted from a special spirit wood, its surface flowing with a warm sheen.
Resting neatly upon it was a folded garment.
A white haori.
The uniform of the Royal Guard.
The appearance of this haori carried an even more direct symbolic impact than Yamamoto’s verbal appointment.
Sasakibe carried the tray steadily to Yanagawa and presented it.
Yamamoto’s aged, powerful voice sounded again.
“This is the uniform of the Royal Guard, personally prepared by Lady Senjumaru Shutara, the Great Weave Guard.”
“Originally, it would be bestowed upon you after your formal induction ceremony in the Royal Palace.
However, the twin Hyōrinmaru matter is of great importance.
Since you have already been ordered to handle it and act on behalf of the Royal Guard, you require the appropriate token and symbol of that authority.”
Senjumaru Shutara, the Great Weave Guard, one of the Royal Guard, creator and weaver of the Shihakushō and haori.
Yanagawa looked at the pure white haori on the lacquer tray and understood.
Yamamoto was clearing away potential institutional obstacles for his next actions.
The haori did not differ much from an ordinary captain’s haori in form.
Only the symbol on the back had been replaced with the Royal Guard’s emblem.
But Yanagawa could sense an exquisitely complex Reishi structure within the garment.
It was far more than a mere decoration.
Then he slowly draped the Royal Guard haori over his shihakushō.
White haori.
Black shihakushō.
A tall, straight figure.
Calm, unwavering eyes.
Standing before all the captains of the Gotei 13, Yanagawa had transformed.
He was no longer merely a member of the Kido Corps.
No longer merely the genius graduate once remembered by Shin’ō Academy.
He was a provisional member of the Royal Guard, a special envoy bearing the attention of the Royal Palace and the authority to investigate the twin Hyōrinmaru incident.
“Then,” Yamamoto said at last, breaking the heavy silence, “this matter is settled.”
“Dismissed.”
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