Chapter 60: Silencing

Martin Davis stared at Yamabuki Haruto, his face pale with shock. In Haruto’s hand was a Reiryoku Bow, identical to a Quincy’s.

“You’re no Shinigami!” Martin stammered, terror in his eyes. “Are you a Quincy?”

“Quincy, my ass!” Haruto snapped, staring at the bow in his hand with equal alarm. “I’m a pure-blooded Shinigami!”

He’d never faced a Quincy before, nor studied their reishi manipulation. The idea that he could wield their power was unthinkable. Worse, he couldn’t let Soul Society know. With tensions brewing toward a Quincy-Shinigami war, this ability would raise unanswerable questions. A Shinigami with a Zanpakutō wielding Quincy powers? It defied reason.

Thanks to his knack for learning quickly—perhaps tied to some “Child of Destiny” trait—Haruto had nearly mastered reishi control after watching Martin once. His mind shifted, and the surrounding reishi condensed into an oversized Reiryoku Bow, dwarfing Martin’s.

“Listen, brother,” Haruto said solemnly, locking eyes with Martin. “This stays between us. Not a word to anyone, got it?”

Before Martin could respond, Haruto’s tone darkened. “But I only trust dead men to keep secrets. Say goodbye!” The massive bow erupted, its arrow blasting Martin into dust.

Haruto slapped his cheeks, steadying himself. “It’s fine, it’s fine! Silence everyone who saw it, and I’m clear. No Quincy powers in Soul Society, and I’m still Vice-Captain. It’s fine!” He kept slapping, calming his nerves.

He’d noticed his body absorbing reishi in the Human World, replenishing his reiryoku faster than normal. He’d thought it a quirk, but this was different. In Soul Society, where reishi was denser, this ability would be even stronger. He had to keep it hidden—a trump card for survival.

Haruto steadied his breathing and released a Hell Butterfly. “Vice-Captain Yamabuki Haruto, First Division. Search and rescue mission complete. Open the Senkaimon.”

A Senkaimon materialized behind him. After scanning for enemies, Haruto stepped through.

Minutes later, a group of white-robed figures appeared, their expressions cold. The leader knelt where Martin’s ashes lay. “A Quincy technique,” he said gravely. “Martin was killed by a Quincy. Report to His Majesty.”

In Seireitei, Haruto felt a flicker of relief—until Captain Commander Yamamoto turned, his piercing gaze locking onto him. Haruto’s heart skipped. Does he know?

“Yamabuki, your reiatsu is erratic,” Yamamoto said. “Did you face combat?”

“Yeah, I ran into trouble,” Haruto replied, forcing calm. “Let’s discuss inside. Where’s that fat rogue Chiharu and Junrei brought back?”

Yamamoto gestured to a nearby prison. Zenjōji Arihime sat bound in reishi-suppressing ropes, her massive frame slumped in a corner. She glared as they approached. “I was just experimenting!” she shouted at Yamamoto. “You sent lackeys to arrest me? Where’s the justice? The law?”

Haruto smirked. “We are the law.”

Arihime scowled. “What do you want with me?”

“Skewer and roast you,” Haruto said, grinning. “You’re so big, you’d drip with oil. One bite would be divine.” Before he could continue, Kano Chiharu’s fist slammed into the back of his head.

“It’s nearly dinner,” she snapped. “Don’t ruin appetites.”

“Don’t hit my head!” Haruto protested. “I’m a strategist—I need my brain! What if you make me stupid?” He turned to Arihime. “Two choices. One: I barbecue you. My skills are top-notch, chili and cumin ready. I’ll even let you taste yourself half-cooked.”

“Two?” Arihime asked, wary.

Haruto grinned. “No hesitation?”

“Two,” Arihime said firmly.

“Join the Gotei 13. We’re all allies then,” Haruto said, his smile sharp.

“If we’re allies, untie me!” Arihime demanded, her arrogance returning.

Haruto ordered her settled, then his expression turned grave. Yamamoto, sensing the shift, led him to an office and closed the door. “No outsiders. Speak,” Yamamoto commanded.

Haruto’s tone was solemn. “In the Human World, I was attacked by a Quincy.”

Yamamoto nodded, unsurprised. The Gotei 13, since its founding, had guarded Soul Society against such threats.

“They didn’t talk—just attacked,” Haruto continued. “They’re targeting Shinigami. I killed one but didn’t bring the body back, fearing pursuit.”

“How was their strength?” Yamamoto asked.

“Average,” Haruto said carefully. “But their abilities seem to counter ours.” He paused, testing Yamamoto’s reaction. The interplay of Shinigami, Hollow, and Quincy powers was a delicate balance, one not meant to mix—like Kurosaki Ichigo’s anomaly.

Yamamoto’s gaze lingered, but he said nothing, leaving Haruto to wonder if his secret was safe.