Bleach: The Strongest Shinigami

"Hiss... a noble?!" Akira held the warm teacup in both hands, his face showing doubt as he drew a sharp breath.

Starting with such an intense topic right away?

Seeing Akira's cooperative expression, Kusagusa nodded with satisfaction. Just as he had predicted, no one in Soul Society could resist the temptation of nobility.

No one!

When that person had assigned him this task, he knew success was practically guaranteed.

For common people from Rukongai, becoming a Shinigami was their life's greatest aspiration. For Shinigami themselves, becoming a noble was the ultimate goal.

Only members of the 6th Division and a handful of noble Captains and Seated Officers could resist such an offer.

Kusagusa nodded, barely concealing his arrogant expression.

"As long as you pledge your loyalty, you can stand at the pinnacle of power." Akira closed his eyes blissfully, imagining his future life as a noble.

Seeing him like this, Kusagusa relaxed. With his skill at reading people, this reaction couldn't be fake — the man was practically drooling.

When Akira finally emerged from his daydream, he played his trump card.

"Moreover, if you wish to become Captain of the 11th Division, that person will support you. Even if you don't meet the requirements, that person will override all opposition and place you in that position! Not even the Shihōin family can guarantee such power!"

Akira's face flushed with excitement, "R-really? Is that possible? But I haven't even mastered Bankai yet..."

Kusagusa gave a slight nod, "Don't worry, that's not an issue. Mastering Bankai isn't mandatory for becoming a Captain. There have been exceptions throughout history. Besides, your exceptional talent is why that person is willing to invest in you."

Akira appeared thoughtful.

There seemed to be truth in this. Everyone in Soul Society knew of his unparalleled talent, even surpassing Yamamoto, and that he was destined to become Soul Society's pillar of strength.

It made sense that nobles would try to recruit him now.

Kusagusa glanced at the night sky and gave a slight bow, "Since Third Seat Kisaragi is willing to serve that person, I can rest easy. However, this must remain private. Not even a fourth person should know of our conversation. At the next Golden Seal Noble Assembly, that person will propose this matter, and the Kisaragi family will join the lower nobility."

Akira nodded eagerly, "Of course, of course, you can trust me. No one in Soul Society keeps secrets better than I do."

Relieved, Kusagusa stood up to leave, and they both departed the 11th Division.

Akira watched their silhouettes vanish into the night, a thoughtful look crossing his face, but he quickly abandoned such pointless musings and turned back to go to bed.

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The next morning.

As the first rays of sunlight entered the barracks, many division members were already at their posts.

Soul Society's vast population required constant attention. Beyond their regular duties, the Gotei 13 conducted regular patrols through Rukongai to maintain peace.

After two recent Hollow invasions, Genryūsai had tripled the patrol forces in Rukongai.

Yet not everyone rushed to work at dawn.

Genryūsai was among them.

He cherished warming his tea in the barracks' most tranquil hour, letting the morning sun wash over him as he savored each sip. In these moments, his mind found perfect serenity.

This ritual prepared him for maximum efficiency in his official duties.

Cross-legged on the tea room's veranda, he cradled his teacup in both hands, his mind at peace, basking in this rare moment of quiet.

"Really..."

"Master! Captain-Commander! Lord Genryūsai! Something terrible has happened!"

The thunderous shout from outside nearly made Genryūsai spill his tea.

His weathered face darkened as he recognized the voice.

Akira burst into the 1st Division barracks — even the formidable Chōjirō Sasakibe and Genshirō Okikiba couldn't contain him.

Seeing the young face suddenly before him, Genryūsai drew a deep breath, set his teacup on the nearby table, and rose to walk toward the tea room.

"Hey, Master, where are you going?"

"To get you a present."

"That's too kind, but what kind of present?"

"You'll know when you see it..."

Akira furrowed his brow, wracking his brain to remember what special occasion would prompt the bald man to offer him a gift.

Moments later, Genryūsai emerged holding a sword — its hilt deep purple, its tsuba oval, its blade wreathed in flames.

Akira's eyes widened.

"This won't do, Master! This is your life partner Ryūjin Jakka, how could you just give it to me like this..."

A vein bulged on Genryūsai's forehead, "When did I say I was giving Ryūjin Jakka to you?"

"You said it yourself..."

Akira took a tiny step backward, suddenly realizing he'd picked a poor time for this visit. Perhaps tomorrow, when the old man had cooled off...

Unfortunately, it was too late.

The moment his Danger Instinct flared, a large hand seized him by the scruff of his neck. Despite his pitiful wails, he found himself dragged straight into the newly repaired training hall.

Soon, the 1st Division barracks echoed with spirited activity.

Outside the training hall, Chōjirō and Genshirō exchanged glances, their faces mirroring each other's helplessness.

The good news was that the Captain-Commander's mood had lifted from his previous gloom. The bad news? They'd already had to ask Captain Unohana to develop new blood pressure medication.

All they could do now was pray young Akira would survive the Captain-Commander's iron fists.

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After giving the kid a thorough beating, Genryūsai felt more refreshed and energized than his usual morning tea.

Akira did a kip-up from the ground, only to fall flat on his face with a thud.

"Help me up, I can still fight..." He struggled to his feet, taking time to regain his senses.

Once he had fully recovered, Genryūsai brought over a tea table, placed it between them, and poured two cups of tea, sliding one toward his disciple.

"Tell me, what's this important matter?" The old man asked casually while sipping his tea.

After the recent incident with Szayelaporro invading Soul Society, Genryūsai had claimed nothing could surprise him anymore.

Akira knocked on his still-rattled head and replied nonchalantly.

"Oh, it's nothing major really. Last night some old guy called Kusagusa Segawa came to see me, saying if I pledged loyalty to 'that person', they'd make me a lower noble. Hmph, who does he think he is?" Akira, now fully recovered, let out a contemptuous snort, "Pink Chichorro? And calling him 'that person'? Just a coward who won't even reveal their name!"

He recounted all the details, completely contradicting his previous night's persona as Soul Society's most tight-lipped individual.

After listening, Genryūsai lowered his gaze, his narrowed eyes glinting with thought.

Foolish disciple. What Kusagusa? This was clearly Kusagusa Segawa, head of the minor noble Segawa family and the most loyal dog to one of the Five Great Noble Houses.

A shadow crossed his eyes as Genryūsai realized that despite all his compromises, these people still wouldn't let things be. They insisted on dragging the noble families' murky politics into the Gotei 13 and all of Soul Society.

If not for Soul Society's stability, why would he have compromised so much?

Though he tried to stay out of the rebel army conflicts, as Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, how could he not know these so-called rebels were largely supported by noble families?

The vast Soul Society had been thrown into chaos by these petty schemers, leaving no one in peace. Was it easy for him, a thousands-year-old man, to work tirelessly every day for Soul Society's stability?

Just thinking about these things filled Genryūsai's heart with unspoken anger, making him want to draw his sword and cut through to a brighter future.

After brooding for a moment, he looked at his incompetent disciple and lowered his voice.

"What do you think about this?"

Hearing this, Akira raised his head, looking at his rigid-minded teacher as if he were looking at an idiot, his feelings plain on his face.

"Is there even anything to think about? Of course—"

Before he could finish, Genryūsai's fist burst into flames, his expression clearly saying 'choose your words carefully'. This immediately made the kid tone down his attitude.

He gave an awkward smile and explained, "Of course I'm on your side, teacher."

Akira admitted he couldn't outmaneuver these centuries-old cunning foxes in their schemes, but he understood one principle clearly.

This was a world where strength ruled supreme.

The nobles relied solely on their ancient history, control over Soul Society treasures, and hidden secrets. They acted recklessly only because Genryūsai prioritized Soul Society's stability.

If this were the old man who fought Yhwach hundreds of years ago, these nobles wouldn't dare be so bold. If they truly angered the Demon of the Sword, everyone would suffer the consequences.

Back then, Genryūsai would swing Ryūjin Jakka across Soul Society without hesitation.

Only these past few hundred years of self-cultivation had mellowed him.

Now, Genryūsai carried too many burdens.

He had to maintain balance between Soul Society's various factions while guarding against world-ending threats. He even had to prevent desperate nobles from pushing Soul Society into an irredeemable abyss.

Now the nobles had extended their reach to him, showing no respect. In their eyes, he was merely an old man who followed orders — not worth mentioning.

After all, for years he had executed Central 46's orders without question.

Hearing this answer, Genryūsai nodded with satisfaction.

At least this kid had some conscience, making his extra care worthwhile.

"Then what do you plan to do? Now that the Segawa family has extended an invitation on behalf of the Five Great Noble Houses, staying uninvolved is no longer possible."

Hearing this, Akira furrowed his brow in contemplation.

His first thought was to have the old man go on a rampage, killing whoever displeased him.

Those nobles talked big, but they were only good at running their mouths. In terms of actual power, all of them combined couldn't withstand a few Taimatsu shots from Ryūjin Jakka, let alone the Bankai release Zanka no Tachi.

{T/N: Taimatsu = Torch; Zanka no Tachi = Longsword of the Remnant Flame.}

But Genryūsai would never agree — doing so would shatter Soul Society's order, and centuries of peace would collapse instantly.

Wracking his brains, he couldn't think of any suitable approach.

The old man looked at the kid, whose forehead was creased with effort and who wore a pained expression, and heaved a deep sigh.

Clearly, this simple-minded disciple wasn't suited for such delicate matters. Better not push him.

Just as he was about to speak, Akira's eyes suddenly lit up.

"I've got it! We'll do this, then that, and solve everything in one go!"

When he finished speaking, he noticed Genryūsai looking at him with an unfriendly expression, slowly setting down his teacup as his fingers curled into a fist.

"Ahem — actually, I mean we pretend to agree, I infiltrate their ranks, gather intelligence, and then take down all these destabilizing elements in one strike." Fearing another punch from the old man, Akira hastily explained his idea.

Hearing this, Genryūsai stared at the young man in surprise, seriously suspecting someone had switched his brain.

Something wasn't right!

With this kid's intelligence, he shouldn't be capable of devising such a plan.

He knew this kid too well. If brute force was an option, he'd never use his brain — as if thinking itself was his mortal enemy. The boy always acted on instinct.

"It's too dangerous. I cannot agree." After a moment's thought, Genryūsai shook his head, "Can you guarantee the nobles won't discover your true intentions? One small mistake could lead to disaster. At that point, unless we completely break the established order, even I wouldn't be able to save you."

Hearing this, Akira scratched his head, puzzled.

"Is it really that difficult? I think it's fine — after all, you never discovered my ambition to become Captain-Commander either."

Genryūsai: "?"

Taking several deep breaths, he finally suppressed the urge to punch his rebellious disciple to death.

Glancing at the angry old man, Akira carefully said, "Actually, we don't have any better options, do we? When facing these high and mighty nobles, we either get assimilated or take the initiative to strike."

Genryūsai fell silent.

He clearly understood the pros and cons, and knew what these words meant. But having experienced similar painful incidents before, he was unwilling to let his disciple risk himself again.

There must be another way...

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