"I've been away from the Seireitei long enough. Time to head back to House Shihoin." Yanagi's tone was matter-of-fact, already turning to leave. "I'll return in a few days."
"When I do, I'm bringing study materials and weapons. Your job is to identify those with exceptional potential and train them accordingly."
He glanced back at Shisui. "That breathing technique I taught you for condensing reiatsu—pass it on to the others."
After laying out his expectations, Yanagi paused mid-step, speaking without turning around. "For now, Fugaku remains your clan's leader. Nothing changes there."
"Understood," the four replied in unison, relief evident in their voices. They'd already assumed as much.
Among all the Uchiha present, only Fugaku had the stature to command respect. New environment, unfamiliar world—maintaining the clan's existing structure was crucial. Internal stability meant survival. And frankly, no one else could unite them. The two elder factions were at each other's throats; if one picked their rival, the other would rebel. Shisui had the strength, but he was young, his judgment still raw. The younger generation like Yashiro lacked the power to be taken seriously.
As Yanagi's silhouette faded into the darkness, Fugaku called out respectfully, "Shinigami-dono, traveling alone—surely you need bodyguards? The Uchiha pledge our lives to protect you!"
Yanagi didn't break stride, merely waving dismissively. "Unnecessary. You're not shinobi anymore. What protection could you possibly offer me?"
Fugaku and the others exchanged glances, then let out bitter laughs.
"Forgive our presumption, Shinigami-dono. We spoke foolishly."
It hit them then—they were dead. Spirits now. Without bodies, they couldn't mold chakra. Functionally, they were no different from ordinary people. And a god of death as powerful as Yanagi? Why would he need their protection?
They'd been arrogant without realizing it.
The four watched his figure disappear into the night. Fugaku turned to the others. "Shisui, Elder Setsuna, Elder Kakafu... let's talk. Just us."
He took a breath. "We're dead now. Our old factions, our old grievances—none of that matters anymore. This world is completely foreign to us. The real question is how the Uchiha survive here. I'm asking you all to set aside the past, at least for now. We need to decide what comes next."
Setsuna's mouth opened, ready with a cutting remark about Itachi, but he stopped himself. He closed his lips, gave a curt nod. Even with their new god's help, the Uchiha were blind in this realm. For the clan's survival, old anger had to take a backseat.
Shisui and Kakafu saw the calculation too. Self-preservation came first.
"Of course," Setsuna said quietly.
Fugaku continued, "First question: What kind of man is our new master? What's he really like? And what does he think of us—of the Uchiha?"
His gaze settled on Shisui. "You met him first. You know him better than any of us."
Shisui nodded. "I believe the Shinigami-dono is—"
Meanwhile, Yanagi cut through the night using Hohō, crossing Rukongai's sprawling districts before reaching the Seireitei's western gate.
Three, four days in the shinobi world. Wonder how much time actually passed here.
Different worlds, different rules. Time flowed at its own pace in each.
He produced his House Shihoin credential, holding it up for the gate guards to inspect.
"Open it, Jidanbou."
"Ah! Yanagi-sama!" The guard was a towering figure—even at one-ninety, Yanagi felt small beside him. "One moment, please."
After the routine check, Jidanbou called out, hauling the massive Sekkiseki gates upward. The stone—capable of blocking spiritual energy itself—groaned as it rose.
"How long was I gone?" Yanagi asked suddenly.
Jidanbou scratched his head, thinking. "Hmm, can't say for certain. Four, maybe five days at most?"
"Thanks."
Yanagi nodded appreciatively and entered the Seireitei.
Time flows roughly the same between worlds, then. Good. Could've been worse.
Shinigami patrols moved through the night-shrouded district, but Yanagi's noble credentials ensured smooth passage. He made his way back to House Shihoin without incident.
The Soul Society was fundamentally feudal—a chasm between nobility and commoners. In the Seireitei, the heart of power, this distinction was almost obscene. House Shihoin was one of the Four Great Noble Clans, sitting at the very apex.
Even as a live-in son-in-law, Yanagi had vaulted through multiple social strata. Top-tier nobility now. And with that status came considerable privileges throughout the Seireitei.
The guards at House Shihoin's entrance recognized him immediately, opening the gates. The lead guard approached. "Yanagi-sama, the family head instructed us to inform you upon your return. She requests you meet with her."
"Shunsui?" Yanagi asked, referring to the previous patriarch.
"No, sir. Yoru—Yoruichi-sama."
"Understood."
He nodded to the guards and stepped into the compound.
Shunsui Kyoraku, the man he'd spoken of, was the former head and his future father-in-law. Though his marriage ceremony hadn't taken place yet, the old patriarch had graciously allowed him to live within House Shihoin's estate—a chance to acclimate to noble life, to learn the intricacies of managing a great clan's affairs.
As he headed toward his quarters, a familiar voice cut through the corridor—teasing, with an edge of irritation.
"Well, well. Look who finally shows his face. Our illustrious live-in son-in-law." Her tone was playful but barbed. "You vanish for days without a word. Care to explain where you've been?"
Yanagi's expression didn't shift. He turned slowly, the candlelight along the corridor illuminating his visitor.
The woman before him had a lean, athletic frame—tall enough to reach his shoulder, not more. Short purple hair framed sharp, delicate features. Her skin was deep brown, and rather than diminishing her beauty, it only enhanced it, lending her an exotic allure. Her eyes held an intensity uncommon in most women, a boldness that transcended mere physical attractiveness.
She wore the custom shihakusho of the Onmitsukidō, layered with a pristine captain's haori draped across her shoulders. She'd appeared silently in the corridor, now leaning against a support pillar, arms crossed, golden eyes gleaming in the candlelight. Her gaze was sharp, amused, assessing.
"Yoruichi. Your Hohō's improved." Yanagi's voice remained level, unreadable as always. A slight glimmer crossed his eyes—the only tell that he was genuinely pleased to see her.
This woman was Yoruichi Shihoin, current head of House Shihoin.
She was also his fiancée.