"Enough."
In the midst of this tense standoff, a stern, commanding voice echoed through the dojo.
Saito the Immortal, fingers already brushing her sword hilt, and Fujimiya Makoto, who'd just kicked away his asauichi, froze in unison.
Yamamoto Shigekuni's icy gaze swept over them.
In an instant, Fujimiya felt a crushing spiritual pressure, like a landslide, flood the confined space like a tidal wave.
A bizarre suffocation gripped him, as if he were being buried alive.
He felt like death was seconds away.
Until…
Yamamoto Shigekuni lowered his eyes, casually sipping his tea.
"Tch."
Saito shot Yamamoto a wary glance but held back, swallowing her urge to start slashing.
The instructors lined up on both sides showed varied expressions.
Before clashing with the Seireitei, Yamamoto had already "raided" every expert in Flowing Soul Street, uniting them under his banner.
Those sitting here, calm and composed, were the defeated elites who'd wisely surrendered—former terrors who, in their day, would've ruled any district of Flowing Soul Street as monstrous overlords.
Now, they bowed to the true conquering dragon.
"You're Fujimiya Makoto?"
"Yes."
His face was slightly taut.
Yamamoto's voice, steady but deep, carried a mature magnetism:
"I've heard you have a talent for endlessly boosting your strength in battle."
"Is that true? Or is it just your zanpakuto's ability?"
"Huh?"
Caught off guard by the blunt question, Fujimiya blinked.
Then, he snapped into gear.
"No, that's not it."
"It's not unlimited growth!"
Fujimiya, suddenly dead serious, corrected:
"In truth, it's a last-ditch survival move, a unique kido technique. It looks easy, but every power spike comes at a brutal cost."
Yamamoto seemed mildly intrigued, probing:
"A cost? Like what?"
"Like… massive reiatsu drain!"
Before stepping into this room, Fujimiya hadn't thought this far, too busy fretting over how to muzzle his trash-talking zanpakuto. Now, he was winging it, putting on a grave face, as if saying, "I'm dead serious, okay?"
"It burns through stamina like crazy!"
"And it's a huge mental strain."
"Push it too far, and it's life-threatening—it could even shatter my soul chain and sleep core… insanely dangerous."
The more he spoke, the smoother his lies flowed, his face shifting to a look of dread, like he'd barely survived his fight with Unohana Yachiru.
Fujimiya Makoto, a master of playing it safe.
A loudmouth zanpakuto was bad enough; if he didn't keep a few aces up his sleeve, how'd he survive?
His logic was crystal clear.
And he sold it like a pro.
But at his words, the instructors nodded slightly, as if it made sense.
A short-term, explosive kido technique letting a weakling go toe-to-toe with Unohana? Not that far-fetched.
Only Unohana Yachiru furrowed her brow.
Unlike the others, she'd fought this kid herself.
Still, she stayed quiet, watching.
"I see."
Yamamoto took another sip of tea, then pivoted:
"If I took you as a disciple and taught you earnestly… would you set aside your past ties and dedicate yourself fully to the Genji Academy?"
"Absolutely!"
Almost instinctively, Fujimiya blurted out.
This was Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni, for crying out loud!
A maxed-out, broken character!
But the moment he spoke, the old bald guy waved to one side of the dojo.
A chubby guy with pink hair, draped in a big cape, flashed to Yamamoto's side with a shunpo.
He leaned in, whispering:
"Kido lie detection results… except for that last line, which was subconscious, the rest is probably bullshit."
"…"
"What?!"
Fujimiya's eyes bulged.
Hey… can't we just talk this out?
Why the lie detector?
You're gonna distrust an upstanding guy like me?
But what happened next threw him even more.
"Ugh, damn it!"
An instructor with a smoker's vibe, a fur scarf around his neck, slapped his thigh, looking crushed:
"A monster like that actually exists!"
"Bet on the wrong horse!"
Next to him, a bespectacled guy held out his hand, merciless:
"You lost the bet! Cough up 10,000 kan."
"I told you, with Ms. Unohana's personality, she'd never lie about something like this!"
"See?"
"Tch, yeah, yeah, I got it."
In a flash, the semi-quiet dojo erupted into chaos.
Fujimiya stared at these degenerate gamblers, dumbfounded.
If you're that bored, go chew on a lightbulb, damn it!
"Ahem! Quiet."
Finally, Yamamoto coughed twice, grudgingly restoring order, scowling:
"What kind of example is this for a young man!"
"Exactly!"
The purple twin-tailed girl jumped in, glaring at the gamblers with disdain:
"If you ask me, just throw down and settle it!"
"Why make it so complicated?"
"Hey!"
"You, the pervy kid!"
She whipped around to Fujimiya, arms crossed over her flat chest, tilting her head.
Saito the Immortal grinned smugly, and with a thunk, drove her scabbard into the dojo's wooden floor under Yamamoto's stiff gaze. Rolling up her sleeves, she beckoned him.
"No sword for you, no sword for me."
"A fight oughta do you some good, right?"
"Show us what a monster's made of!"
"I-I'm not, I didn't…"
Fujimiya, thrown by the madness, stammered.
In his mind, the precursor to the Gotei 13 was supposed to be solemn, disciplined, with captains oozing gravitas.
Not a bandit hideout or a clown show!
Could he even keep up his cautious act?
"Oh, you're hesitating?"
Seeing his reluctance, Saito seemed to get it.
She thought for a second, then pulled off her white tabi, revealing small, delicate feet with pearly toes. Slightly curled from the cold floor, they traced a smooth arch, their soles a healthy pink.
Saito tossed the tabi at Fujimiya's feet with a shrug, hands on hips, laughing loudly:
"Since you're such a fan, let's make it the stakes."
"Land a hit on my face, you win."
"Win, and you get both."
"Lose, and you get one as a consolation prize… though it's got a hole."
"By the way, your fetish is weird as hell."
"First time I've seen anything like it!"
At this, Fujimiya felt his face twist.
You think you can bribe me with a cute girl's stinky socks?!
That's an insult!
He wanted to yell that.
But his zanpakuto beat him to it.
[Aaaah~ slurp slurp slurp!]
[Bare feet forever!]
[Dumbass! Hurry up and pull me out of this crap scabbard!]
[I wanna sleep between a cute girl's toes and tabi!!]
The instructors' stares turned to ones reserved for a memetic hazard or toxic chemical.
Saito, hands on hips, laughed even harder:
"Hey, hey!"
"You're damn honest about your freaky nonsense!"
"I'm starting to like you!"
"You've got guts!"
In that moment, Fujimiya's heart burned with shame, his face buried in his hands, anguished.
Win, foot fetishist. Lose, foot fetishist.
So…
Gotta win, no choice!