Chapter 2 — The White Haori
The office of the Shiba estate was quiet.
Incense burned faintly.
Light filtered through shōji screens.
Shirikawa gestured calmly.
"Genryūsai-dono… please, be seated."
Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto stepped forward without hesitation and sat. His presence alone altered the temperature of the room.
Shirikawa ordered tea.
The attendant moved quickly — aware that the air itself felt heavy.
Yamamoto did not waste time.
"Ishikawa," he said bluntly, using the older pronunciation of the Shiba name, "I am creating order in this world."
His voice was steady.
"Not only against Hollows. But against criminals. Rogue Shinigami. Nobles who abuse power. I will build a system they will fear."
Silence.
Steam rose from the tea.
"I have gathered allies," Yamamoto continued. "Monsters. Warriors. Men and women who understand violence."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"I am here to invite you."
Shirikawa was not surprised.
He had expected this.
The world was already shifting.
"I will gladly do so," he replied without hesitation.
No dramatics.
No doubt.
Just decision.
Yamamoto studied him for a moment.
Then he reached beside him and placed a wooden box on the table.
Shirikawa opened it.
Inside—
A white haori.
On its back, the number:
Eight.
Captain of the 8th Division.
He closed the box gently.
And nodded once.
---
He escorted Yamamoto to the entrance of the estate.
Neither spoke for several steps.
But Yamamoto thought to himself:
This boy is dangerous.
Not merely because of strength.
But because of clarity.
He had heard rumors.
How Shirikawa Shiba eliminated entire bands of rogue Shinigami alone.
How he hunted Hollows without support.
How he killed not with spectacle—
But with precision.
And while Yamamoto subtly increased his spiritual pressure during their meeting—
The young noble moved normally.
Unbothered.
Unbent.
Arriving at the gates, Shirikawa said calmly,
"It was an enlightening visit, Genryūsai-dono."
Yamamoto turned.
"For monsters like us," he said, "there is no right path. Only necessary ones."
Then he left.
---
Shirikawa watched until his presence vanished completely.
Then he turned to his attendant.
"Prepare dinner."
"I will eat with my sister tonight."
---
Under a great cherry blossom tree, petals drifting softly in the night air—
Shirikawa and Kirume dined together.
Kirume Shiba noticed immediately.
Her brother's silence was heavier than usual.
"How was your training?" he asked.
"It was good," she replied. "I've improved my footwork."
He nodded.
Then spoke.
"Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto visited this morning."
Her chopsticks paused mid-air.
"He asked me to join his group."
A small breeze carried petals between them.
"A group composed of monsters wearing uniform."
"I accepted."
Kirume's eyes widened.
She had heard stories of Yamamoto's gathered warriors.
Criminals.
Butchers.
Unrestrained killers.
"Are you okay with that, older brother?" she asked softly. "The people he recruited… they are criminals. Monstrous people."
Shirikawa continued eating calmly.
"I am okay with it."
He lifted his gaze to meet hers.
"I myself am a ruthless killer, Kirume."
Her expression faltered.
"I have killed thousands of Hollows and criminals with this sword."
She shook her head slightly.
"But that is different. You were killing criminals."
He set his chopsticks down.
"It is the same."
She froze.
"Criminal or not. Killing is killing."
His voice was steady. Honest.
"Morally speaking, I justified my actions as justice. But the result is identical."
A petal landed on the table between them.
"I am comparable to those monsters in one aspect alone — the number of lives taken."
Kirume's hands trembled slightly.
He softened his tone — only slightly.
"That is why I will train you to be stronger."
"To become a clan head who stands as a pillar."
"A version of the Shiba name far better than I ever was."
She wanted to protest.
To say he was different.
To say he was kind.
But she knew her brother.
His mind, once set, did not waver.
They continued eating in silence.
The cherry blossoms fell quietly.
---
Later that night, in his quarters—
Shirikawa wrote by candlelight.
Ink flowed steadily across parchment.
Strategic notes.
Names.
Predictions.
Structures.
He paused.
Closed his eyes briefly.
And whispered,
"I pray… I have chosen correctly."
Outside—
The wind shifted again.
And somewhere in the Seireitei—
Monsters gathered.
---
End of Chapter 2.