Lately, aside from Captain-Commander Kyoraku, the busiest people in the entire Seireitei were likely the newly appointed...
Or rather, the three returning captains.
Having donned their white haori once more, the three members of the Visoreds devoted all their attention to reorganizing their respective divisions.
Taking over the demoralized squads left behind by the defectors and winning back the trust of their subordinates was the first major hurdle they faced upon taking office.
However, not every division's transition was fraught with obstacles and alienation.
At least in the Ninth Division, Kensei Muguruma's return went so smoothly that even he was somewhat surprised.
Ninth Division, Comprehensive Training Grounds.
"Too slow! Did you all skip breakfast?! With that pathetic amount of strength, you couldn't even kill a wild dog in the Rukongai! Swing your swords another thousand times!"
Wearing a sleeveless Shihakusho, Kensei Muguruma swung his wooden sword forcefully, standing at the very front of the training grounds with a stern gaze.
His short silver hair was exceptionally striking under the sunlight, and his entire being exuded the rugged, imposing aura of a mob boss.
Before him, hundreds of shirtless Ninth Division members were enduring an incredibly grueling Zanjutsu swinging drill alongside him under the scorching sun.
"Yeah, yeah! Keep up the hard work, everyone!"
Behind Kensei stood Mashiro Kuna, who had also returned to the Seireitei. Wearing her golden [Super Lieutenant] armband, she stood with her hands on her hips, energetically directing the crowd.
Although everyone was panting heavily and drenched in sweat, not a single person dared to voice a complaint, nor did they dare let their forms slip in the slightest.
The reason was simple: on his very first day back at the Ninth Division, this returning captain had given everyone an unforgettable lesson in management.
Kensei had not delivered any long-winded inaugural speeches.
He simply gathered the entire squad on the training grounds, stripped off his top to reveal his lean, muscular physique, and loudly declared to the division, "Anyone who has a problem with me, or thinks a century-old deserter like me isn't fit to be captain, can draw their sword and step up right now."
"If you can make me take even half a step back, I'll pack my bags and leave immediately! I won't waste your time!"
The result was exactly as one would expect.
Those hot-blooded young members who still harbored illusions about Kaname Tosen's betrayal and tried to challenge him were knocked down like bowling pins before Kensei's brute strength.
Strangely enough, this simple, crude, and even somewhat barbaric approach perfectly suited the tastes of the men in the Ninth Division.
After dealing with Kaname Tosen—a man who constantly preached about justice and peace, only to betray them in the most absurd manner possible—
Kensei's straightforward and genuine nature gave them an unprecedented sense of security.
Furthermore, there were quite a few veteran Seated Officers in the Ninth Division who had served for over a century.
When they saw Captain Muguruma, the man who had once led them into battle, return to his post, many of them even teared up on the spot.
"Hah... Hah..."
At the very front of the formation, Ninth Division Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi tightly gripped his wooden sword, executing every swing with meticulous precision.
Sweat dripped down his cheeks, highlighting the striking [69] tattoo on his face.
"Hisagi, you're slowing down! What, is this the limit of a lieutenant's stamina?!" Kensei locked his gaze onto Hisagi.
"I'm sorry, Captain! I can keep going!"
Hearing Kensei's words, Hisagi abruptly straightened his back, let out a loud roar, and increased the speed and power of his swings once more.
Watching Hisagi's desperate effort, Kensei scoffed coldly, but a deep sense of approval flashed in his eyes as he resumed the swinging drills.
He had, of course, organized this extreme training on purpose.
There was no complex reason behind it; he simply wasn't good at winning people over with words, so he resorted to the clumsy method of sweating together to close the distance between them.
The training continued until evening.
When Kensei finally called for dismissal, a massive swath of people instantly collapsed across the training grounds. The squad members lay on the dirt, gasping for air like fish out of water.
"Hisagi, come with me."
Kensei casually grabbed a towel draped over a wooden post, wiped his sweat, and turned to walk toward the captain's office.
"Yes, Captain!" Hisagi hastily wiped his face with his sleeve and hurried after him.
Inside the captain's office, the afterglow of the setting sun spilled through the window onto the tatami mats, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise desolate room.
Kensei sat down boldly in the main seat and pointed to the spot opposite him, gesturing for Hisagi to sit.
He grabbed a can of chilled barley tea from the low table beside him and tossed it to Hisagi. Opening one for himself, he tilted his head back and chugged it down.
"Hah—that hits the spot!" Kensei crushed the aluminum can, tossed it into the trash bin, and stared intently at Hisagi.
"Kid, I noticed this when I first got back..." Kensei pointed at the tattoo on Hisagi's left cheek. "What's the deal with that 69 on your face? Do you have some kind of weird fetish?"
Hearing the question, Hisagi's hand trembled slightly around his barley tea.
He looked up, his eyes—which always carried a hint of melancholy and resilience—now filled with excitement and reverence as he gazed at Kensei. "Captain... do you really not remember me?"
"Hah? Why would I remember you?" Kensei frowned, carefully scrutinizing Hisagi's face. "When I fled the Seireitei a hundred years ago, you were probably still playing in the mud in the Rukongai, right?"
"Yes, at that time, I was indeed still in the Rukongai..."
Hisagi gently traced the tattoo on his cheek with his fingers, his thoughts seemingly drifting back to that desperate afternoon.
"Back then, I was playing with a few friends in the outskirts of the Rukongai when we unexpectedly ran into a terrifying Hollow..."
"I was caught by that Hollow while trying to cover my friends' escape. I thought I was dead for sure."
Hisagi fell to his knees, bowing his head deeply against the tatami mats. "Just as that Hollow opened its bloody maw and was about to devour me, you appeared."
"You cleanly sliced it to pieces with your short sword! You saved me..."
"I will never forget that debt of gratitude for as long as I live!!"
Kensei froze, the dusty memories in his mind slowly awakening.
He did remember that before the Hollowfication incident occurred, he had casually saved a miserable little Rukongai brat from the jaws of a Hollow.
To think it was actually Hisagi?
"To avoid being a weakling who could only cry, and to be able to protect others just like you did, I desperately studied to get into the Shin'o Academy and trained myself with everything I had."
Hisagi pointed at his cheek and said with absolute certainty, "Back then, you had this '69' tattooed on your body."
"Although I didn't know what it meant at the time, I tattooed it on my face to honor you. The whole reason I became a Soul Reaper was to follow in your footsteps!"
'So that's how it is...'
Kensei looked at the Rukongai brat he had only met once, who had now grown into a lieutenant.
Seeing the exact same tattoo on his face, Kensei felt... strangely warm inside.
The Visoreds had borne the stigma of being traitors, hiding out in the World of the Living, and had even wanted to give up several times amidst the torment of Hollowfication.
He had thought that the Soul Society had long since completely forgotten them, or even viewed them as a disgrace.
But he never imagined that deep within the Seireitei, in the Ninth Division—the place where he had once poured in countless hours of blood, sweat, and tears...
...there was actually a boy who viewed him as an idol, branded his symbol onto his face, and silently followed him for a century.
Kensei walked over, extended his large hand, and pulled Hisagi up from the floor.
"You brat..." He turned his head away and roughly rubbed his nose. "69... don't go spouting nonsense out there. It's not some weird mark; it stands for '[Muguruma Ninth Division]'! Memorize that well!"
"Yes, Captain!!"