Kyōraku Shunsui took the asauchi from Nobu, his expression tinged with surprise. He examined it closely, yet could find nothing unusual.
He returned it and asked, “Do you know what it is?”
Nobu gave a small shake of his head. “All I saw was some strange black thing shaped like a giant hand. I’d planned to destroy it, but it was a lot more troublesome than I expected. While I was locked in a stalemate with it, it managed to slip past me and into my Zanpakutō. I’m still finding that strange — and irritating — and I intend to study it carefully.”
What he said was three parts truth, seven parts falsehood — mainly to make one point: that he had not known about the Soul King’s right hand beforehand.
Kyōraku had not seen the process himself, and at the time Ukitake had been on the brink of death; even with eyes open, all he could have seen was the reishi mimicry.
“Mimihagi…” Ukitake murmured faintly.
Kyōraku glanced at him, sighed, hesitated, and finally said to Nobu, “There’s something I should tell you in advance. That hand you saw — it was the Soul King’s right hand. Now that it’s inside your Zanpakutō, I’ll need to report this upward.”
“The Soul King’s… right hand…” Nobu’s brows furrowed sharply. He thought for a long moment before his gaze turned heavy toward Kyōraku.
“Captain Kyōraku calls it ‘in advance.’ Why not tell me before?”
Kyōraku was struck momentarily speechless.
“What happens to me now?” Nobu pressed.
“…”
Kyōraku felt the weight of fault. There was a thread of guilt in his heart — he had never imagined Nobu would carry things this far, or that the Soul King’s right hand would end up sealed inside his blade.
“You won’t come to harm,” Ukitake said weakly. He tried to lift a hand toward Nobu, but lacked the strength.
Kyōraku nodded quickly. “I promise you.”
The matter of the Soul King’s right hand was the highest-level secret in Soul Society. Even Central 46 knew nothing of it. When Kyōraku spoke of “reporting upward,” he meant only to inform Head Captain Yamamoto.
Nobu’s expression shifted between light and shadow before he finally said, “Forget it. We’re already at this point. At worst, they take my Zanpakutō.”
He glanced at Ukitake and sighed. “Still… it wasn’t all for nothing.”
With that, he turned and left the medical room.
Kyōraku let out a wry smile. “On this matter, we’ve been… less than honorable.”
“We couldn’t have guessed it would turn out like this,” Ukitake said, trying to comfort him. “That Mimihagi would leave me only to lodge itself in Nobu’s Zanpakutō… But, about our teacher—”
“Don’t worry,” Kyōraku cut in at once. “I know how to handle this. I’ll speak to old man Yamamoto myself. Tachikawa saved you — I won’t allow him to suffer treatment he doesn’t deserve.”
Ukitake allowed himself a small breath of relief. “That’s good.”
…
In the wooden corridor of Fourth Division’s barracks, Nobu stood stretching his arms. The work had drained him more than a little, but at least there had been no disaster in the end.
As for the Soul King’s right hand — he honestly wasn’t that concerned. At worst, he could hand over the asauchi.
Besides, Kyōraku Shunsui and Ukitake weren’t the sort to stand by and let him be punished over this.
His display of ignorance earlier had been deliberate — a way to head off any suspicion that he had been coveting the right hand’s power from the start.
Shiba Kaien came out then, stopping beside him.
Gazing over the courtyard, Nobu said idly, “You look closely, and our Fourth Division barracks are really the best-looking. Surely even in Thirteenth Division they’d rank first?”
Kaien nodded. “They are.”
Then he added, “Nobu, I owe you one again.”
Nobu glanced sideways at him, amused. “Again? You mean you already owed me before?”
“…” Kaien could only smile at that.
“Between friends, you don’t need to keep score,” Nobu said. “But if you insist on feeling indebted, I won’t be polite. Who knows — maybe I’ll use that favor to eat off you for life.”
Kaien looked at his profile. It was strange to call him a friend — in truth, Nobu was far younger, maybe even younger than Iba Tetsuzaemon’s junior Ikkaku.
And yet even Ikkaku was happy to follow him around calling him “Nobu-aniki.”
After so much time together, Kaien no longer thought of him as a junior.
He broke into a hearty laugh. “You’re right. Friends exist to be trouble for each other.”
Ukitake Jūshirō stayed in Fourth Division to receive follow-up treatment. Nobu had to admit the lung disease itself was outside his expertise — everything from here was in Unohana Retsu’s hands, with him assisting.
Thirteenth Division still needed managing, so Kaien couldn’t remain there all day. He assigned the two Third Seats to take turns watching over Ukitake.
Kotetsu Kiyone showed no reserve in Fourth Division — her sister was their vice-captain, after all.
Soon enough, word began to spread through Seireitei that Captain Ukitake’s lung disease had been cured. The matter was far from trivial, and it spread quickly.
In truth, his illness was still in the process of being healed.
Two days after Nobu’s treatment, a hell butterfly brought him a summons to First Division’s barracks.
Hearing this, Nobu felt his mind tighten. He set off at once from Fourth Division.
At First Division, after announcing himself, he was met by Sasakibe Chōjirō.
“Vice-Captain Sasakibe.”
“The Head Captain is waiting for you,” Sasakibe said simply.
Nobu followed him into an office.
The moment he stepped inside, he saw an old man seated there — a presence both imposing and serene. Bald, with deep wrinkles, prominent cheekbones, two intersecting sword scars on the right side of his forehead, long brows and a beard that reached his waist.
This was the founder of the Gotei 13, the Head Captain of First Division, founder of Shin’ō Academy, wielder of the strongest fire-type Zanpakutō, and the most powerful Shinigami in a thousand years.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni — once simply Yamamoto Shigekuni.
Nobu’s gaze swept the room, catching Kyōraku Shunsui kneeling to one side, before stepping forward.
“Greetings, Head Captain, Captain Kyōraku.”
The Head Captain’s expression was calm as he motioned to a cushion.
“Sit.”
Nobu sat without hesitation.
“You healed Jūshirō?” Yamamoto’s voice came slow and measured.
“Strictly speaking, not completely,” Nobu replied. “But Captain Ukitake’s condition has greatly improved. And it wasn’t my work alone — Captain Unohana helped immensely. At present, she’s the one leading the treatment.”
Yamamoto gave a slow nod. Nobu felt no heavy pressure from him — his tone was that of an ordinary question. The man’s reiatsu was perfectly restrained; what leaked was only his natural, inherent authority.
“You know of the Soul King’s right hand now,” Yamamoto said. “Have you considered what kind of outcome awaits you?”
Nobu thought for a moment. He didn’t offer any polished line about “accepting whatever judgment is given.” Instead, he said plainly, “I’ve thought about it. But I think what I did should count as a good thing. After all, I cured Captain Ukitake’s illness. I don’t think you’d make things hard for me.”
At that, Kyōraku’s expression went oddly complicated.
This kid…
Even Yamamoto seemed to pause, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
—
This is a fan translation of 限制级死神 by 易安z. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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