Help! I am bound to Aizen!-Chapter 315

Chapter 315

2-in-1 chapter:

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“Teacher!!!”

Hearing that familiar shout, Yamamoto reflexively turned toward the door. The next instant, he realized the voice hadn’t come from there. Whirling around, he spotted a certain someone crawling in through the window.

“…?”

The old man felt his blood pressure rising.

“You little brat, there’s a perfectly good door—why climb through the window?”

Kaelith brushed dust off his clothes, flashing a bright grin.

“I’ve never tried it before. Thought I’d give it a go.”

What, you want me to commend your spirit of experimentation?

A bulging vein stood out on Yamamoto’s forehead. He swiped at Kaelith’s head, aiming to hammer him into the floor.

But in the moment he moved, Kaelith’s figure blurred away. He dodged the blow, appearing behind the old man and helpfully massaging his shoulders.

Feeling the touch on his shoulder, Yamamoto was startled.

This rascal… He’s faster than last time?

True, Yamamoto hadn’t been on guard just now, but even so—hardly anyone could casually slip behind him in that state. For a moment, Yamamoto was a bit taken aback.

“Teacher, you called me over all of a sudden—thinking you’re too old and about to divvy up your inheritance?

“In that case, I suggest giving it all to me. My two senior brothers are nobles; they don’t need money~”

Yamamoto snorted coldly.

“When this old man goes, I’ll be dragging you along for sure!”

Kaelith paused to consider. Then nodded.

“Ah, so you’re worried about loneliness in the afterlife and need a companion. No problem, just give me a heads-up.”

“…!”

Originally, Yamamoto had been all set to scold Kaelith a bit more, but at that last remark, he froze up for two seconds—then smacked Kaelith face-first into the floor with a resounding whack.

“Idiot! Watch your mouth!”

…

With Kaelith’s hair covered in wood splinters, the two headed off to the dojo.

“A short while ago, the Royal Guard sent another message. They want you to make time to go up there again.”

Standing in the spacious dojo—which had been refurbished so many times it resembled the Ship of Theseus—Yamamoto explained why he’d summoned Kaelith.

“The Royal Guard…or I should say Hyōsube, has his eye on you. That’s not a bad thing. In these thousand years since the Gotei 13’s founding, only the very first generation ever received this kind of attention.

“But as I’ve told you before, you can’t apply normal ways of thinking to the Royal Guard. Especially Ichibē and Nimaiya. Even I can’t fully grasp their thoughts.

“Starting today, I plan to teach you a few things so you can, well…adapt better when you spar with them.”

Kaelith wore a puzzled look.

“Teacher, you want me to rebel—?”

“…?”

Yamamoto struck out.

Kaelith dodged.

Yamamoto had been ready, so he attacked again.

Kaelith evaded once more.

Boom!!

With muscles bulging, Yamamoto abruptly accelerated his arm. Kaelith was caught off guard and got slammed into the floor.

As Kaelith pulled his head out of the wood, Yamamoto couldn’t help sighing in amazement. This brat… Not only is he evading my blows more skillfully, his defense is getting monstrous too.

Decades ago, if Yamamoto hammered Kaelith into the ground, he’d have to use precision control so as not to kill him by accident. But nowadays, if Yamamoto just relied on raw muscle strength, he couldn’t do Kaelith much harm at all.

Yes, from the day Yamamoto had taken Kaelith as a disciple, he’d known eventually it would come to this—though not quite so fast.

“Teacher, focus. Aren’t you going to drop some gold coins first?”

Seeing Yamamoto drift into thought, Kaelith reminded him with a nudge.

The old man breathed deeply, suppressing his rising blood pressure.

He spoke slowly:

“The first thing I’m going to teach you is a special kind of Hadō. Different from what the Gotei 13 use, the Royal Guard has their own exclusive version—something Nimaiya devised, taught only to Shinigami who ascend to the Royal Guard.

“They call this ‘Inner Hadō’. It may not always surpass the Seireitei’s Hadō in raw power, but it often carries special effects or abilities. If you don’t learn how to handle it, you’ll be in for a rude awakening. So from now on, come here twice a week—I’ll show you how to deal with Inner Hadō.”

Kaelith cocked an eyebrow.

“But if it’s Royal Guard–exclusive, how come Teacher knows it?”

Yamamoto sniffed. “I saw it once, and that was enough.”

Kaelith gasped.

Didn’t know the old fossil had such mystic powers!

Right then, someone knocked on the door, and Sasakibe stepped in.

“Captain-Commander, the data you requested from the Royal Guard—regarding Inner Hadō—has arrived. Here it is.”

Yamamoto: “…”

Kaelith: “…”

They exchanged a silent look for two seconds before Yamamoto socked Kaelith into the floor again.

“Why?!?!”

Kaelith pried his head out, seething at the injustice of being scapegoated yet again.

Grabbing the documents from Sasakibe, Yamamoto said curtly,

“I merely wanted to confirm that our old references weren’t outdated, you little devil—always making me mad!”

Kaelith wanted to argue, but upon seeing the old man’s rippling biceps, thought better of it.

Suddenly, Yamamoto recalled something. He turned to Sasakibe:

“Chōjirō! Inform the canteen that this brat gets nothing for lunch!”

“Old geezer, that’s going too far!!”

Kaelith roared, launching a frenzied assault.

Yamamoto sneered and countered.

Before long, the dojo thundered with brawling—Reiatsu crashing, shockwaves buffeting the walls.

Standing at the threshold, Sasakibe wore a resigned expression.

Have they forgotten why they came here?

Then he smiled fondly.

For the past few decades, it was as if Captain-Commander Genryūsai had rolled back his age by centuries—his body getting stronger, his spirit more lively. Another two thousand years might not be out of the question.

Sasakibe shut the door and headed off to the canteen to deliver his real instructions: prepare more dishes that Kaelith liked, to keep the lad coming around.

…

By midday, Yamamoto and Kaelith entered the mess hall together, all eyes turning to stare. Both men were bare-chested—who knew what had happened to their captain’s haori and Shihakushō? The lower halves of their clothes were ragged.

Kaelith’s face was bruised, his chest scorched, hair looking like it’d been struck by lightning. Yamamoto’s once meticulously groomed white beard had come undone, now tied clumsily with a torn strip from his uniform.

Seated, the old man showed a smug gleam in his eye. He’d already told Sasakibe to serve Kaelith no food. The boy would have to make do with stale buns and watery soup, he thought. But lo and behold, Kaelith strolled to the serving window and came back with a sumptuous tray full of his favorite dishes.

Traitor, Chōjirō!

Yamamoto seethed.

Both men devoured their meals at breakneck pace, then ambled out to the courtyard to digest before resuming their fight.

Suddenly, a member of the Onmitsukidō Troop appeared via Shunpo:

“Captain-Commander, Captain Kaelith—there’s been a battle in the Noble District! The son of the Koshima family was assaulted by an unknown attacker of considerable strength. The Ninth Division’s Captain Muguruma is on-site, but cannot restrain the perpetrator.”

Yamamoto’s eyebrows lifted. Someone unknown matching a captain-level fight was no joke.

Kaelith grinned.

No idea who’d stirred up trouble, but it sounded fun—he was itching to see.

Yamamoto asked calmly,

“Any Reiatsu analysis?”

The trooper replied, “Captain-Commander, the assailant hasn’t released a hint of Reiatsu—fights only with physical strength!”

“…What?”

Now the old man was genuinely surprised. Relying on mere body power without spiritual pressure in a captain-level clash was almost suicidal. If they could hold their own that way, their actual capability was terrifying. He noted the Onmitsukidō Trooper’s body language.

“You have more to say? Out with it!”

The trooper lowered his head.

“Yes, sir. At the scene, rumors are floating about that the assailant might be someone Captain Kaelith brought back from the Rukongai.”

“?”

Yamamoto turned to Kaelith.

“…?”

Kaelith tilted his head.

Then realization struck him.

He wasn’t going to watch the fun— he was the fun.

…

In the Noble District, Ulquiorra leapt high, landing on a rooftop. His gaze was dispassionate as he eyed the white-haired captain bounding up after him: Muguruma Kensei.

Kensei wore a grimace, veins popping in his temple.

“You bastard… I see how it is. Not using Reiatsu at all—you lookin’ down on me, Muguruma Kensei?!”

Ulquiorra shook his head. “No, it’s not contempt. There’s a particular reason I can’t use it.”

“I don’t care what reason— use it!!”

With a roar, Kensei lunged.

Ulquiorra sighed softly, forming a knifehand with his fingers to meet Kensei’s attack.

Moments earlier, Ulquiorra had been strolling the Seireitei for “observational learning.” His heightened hearing picked up someone mentioning Kaelith’s name. Drawing closer, he found some portly nobles in a carriage discussing various captains. When they got to Kaelith, their tone grew disdainful:

“A gutter rat from the Rukongai, begs his way into the Seireitei!”

“Not just himself—he brought a whole crowd of beggars!”

“And look at his crass fighting style. How dare a creature like that claim a noble name?”

“Thank goodness the Shiba clan produced someone decent. Otherwise, who knows how these riffraff might taint the noble squads!”

“Don’t even mention that Shiba. He’s a disgrace, mixing with Kaelith and that Aizen Sōsuke…”

“Truly a sorry state. When will that pest Kaelith finally be tossed out of the Seireitei?”

Hearing them talk about his lord so rudely, Ulquiorra couldn’t ignore it. He approached the carriage window, speaking calmly:

“Shinigami, I’m giving you one chance. Apologize to Lord Kaelith— or die.”

“Huh?!”

Startled, the noble whipped around to see a pale youth with dark hair standing at the window.

“A g-g-ghost!” he yelped, tumbling off his seat in panic. The other nobles were also taken aback. The carriage window was a fair distance off the ground—how had this man gotten there?

One of them stood, squinting in suspicion. “So… you from the Eleventh Division?”

Ulquiorra shook his head. “No.”

The noble exhaled in relief, then asked again, “You with the Yurei family?”

“No.”

“You from the Shihōin or Kuchiki clan?”

“What are those? Never heard of them.”

Ulquiorra frowned, about to explain that he served Kaelith in Hueco Mundo. But another noble barked:

“Fool, no background at all yet you dare cause trouble? You realize whose carriage this is? Are you looking for death?!”

A chorus of outraged voices rose as the nobles menaced him.

Ulquiorra was unmoved. He just fixed his gaze on the first man.

“Apologize to Lord Kaelith or die. Those are your options.”

The noble’s legs trembled. But enthralled by his sense of aristocratic privilege, he refused to back down:

“Y-you—do you even know where you are? This is the Noble District—our turf!

“If you run now, I might spare you, but if you keep this up, I’ll have your head!”

Ulquiorra nodded once, turned away, and hopped out of the carriage.

A few moments later, he was back.

“Last chance—apologize.”

He was really trying to comply with Kaelith’s instructions: “Don’t cause trouble in the Seireitei unless you have to.” But letting slanders against his liege go unchallenged was unthinkable.

The noble’s legs were about to give out, yet he refused to apologize to some unknown “beggar.” He bellowed:

“You idiot, do you know what this place is? The Noble District—our District!”

“Begone, or face the penalty for your insolence!”

Ulquiorra merely gave another nod.

He flickered into the carriage, and in the blink of an eye—amid gasps—he swept his hand horizontally.

The Koshima family heir’s head flew from his shoulders.

Everyone froze, unable to believe someone had truly dared commit murder in the heart of the Noble District.

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