Bleach: The Fifth Division Captain

"State your name."

Seiya Arima straightened his back and took a deep breath before speaking clearly:

"Seiya Arima! First-year student at Shin'ō Academy!"

"…I'm a student!"

There was an awkward silence.

The room's occupants exchanged glances, their expressions varying between amusement and confusion.

Finally, Ukitake Jūshirō broke the silence with his usual warm demeanor.

"Haha, well, he certainly has a lot of energy, doesn't he?"

Sasakibe Chōjirō took a thoughtful sip of his tea before adding with a nod:

"Straightforwardness is a form of grace in itself."

Meanwhile, Kyōraku Shunsui chuckled quietly from the sidelines, clearly enjoying the moment.

The only person whose expression remained entirely neutral was Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni. He sat with the same stoic presence he'd maintained since the start, revealing neither approval nor disapproval.

Seiya was painfully aware of how simplistic his introduction had been.

But what else was he supposed to say?

Was he supposed to introduce himself as:

"Employee #002 of Aizen Co."

"Golden Member of the Heavens Club."

"Future Angel Investor in Hueco Mundo's Economy."

"Fashion Vanguard of the First Division."

Yeah, no.

If he dared say something like that, he'd be arrested on the spot and probably dismembered for good measure.

After a brief pause, Yamamoto let out a faint sigh, as if resigned to some unspoken disappointment.

The old man lightly waved his hand.

"Since you are but a first-year student, there's no need to be too harsh. It matters not for today, but remember to conduct yourself properly from now on."

His bony hand gestured toward an open seat.

"Sit."

Kyōraku Shunsui leaned toward Seiya with a playful grin, acting like a kid passing notes during a test.

"See? The old man's in a good mood today. Go on, don't keep him waiting."

Despite the lingering tension, Seiya forced himself to stay calm.

This was exactly what he had wanted—to meet these legendary figures and learn from them.

He couldn't afford to falter now.

Bowing slightly, he spoke with respect:

"Excuse me."

He carefully approached and sat down next to Sasakibe Chōjirō.

The vice-captain of the First Division didn't say a word at first.

Instead, Sasakibe simply closed his eyes for a moment, as if assessing something.

Then, without warning, he spoke in a calm, measured tone:

"Your posture is lacking."

"...Huh?"

"You are not sitting properly. Your back is slouched. Though your hands are resting on your knees as they should, you've missed some key adjustments."

Seiya froze.

A pop quiz on etiquette? Seriously?

But he wasn't entirely unprepared.

Adjusting his position, he straightened his back, placed his hands firmly on his knees, and slightly spread his arms in a formal seated stance.

Sasakibe's lips curled into a faint smile.

"Not bad. Far better than the fool who brought you here."

From across the table, Kyōraku Shunsui let out a surprised, exaggerated "Eh?!"

"Come on, Sasakibe-senpai! No need to throw me under the bus like that."

Sasakibe chuckled quietly, his small mustache twitching.

"It's a fitting comparison. After all, if not for your carelessness, Genryūsai-sama wouldn't be giving you that look right now."

Indeed, Yamamoto was already staring at Kyōraku with a disapproving glare.

"Undisciplined. Idle."

Kyōraku simply laughed it off.

"Ah, getting scolded by the old man again~"

Seiya couldn't help but be amazed by the man's nonchalance.

Taking Yamamoto's harsh words as if they were nothing?

Only someone like Kyōraku Shunsui could pull that off.

Meanwhile, Seiya's thoughts turned toward Sasakibe Chōjirō.

This man's presence was rarely felt in the original timeline, yet his history with Yamamoto went back over a thousand years.

In terms of seniority, he outranked both Kyōraku and Ukitake.

It made sense that he would be the one to discipline the younger captains when necessary.

Seiya glanced at the table's occupants.

"So… this is Yamamoto's inner circle?"

There was no surprise in it.

Human nature tended to gravitate toward close-knit groups for comfort and stability.

Even someone like Aizen felt lonely.

It made sense that Yamamoto—a man who had stood alone for centuries—would keep a few trusted individuals close.

Ukitake Jūshirō broke Seiya's thoughts with a warm question:

"Arima-kun, do you know why this gathering is held?"

Seiya shook his head honestly.

"No… I don't."

Ukitake sighed, shaking his head at Kyōraku.

"Shunsui, you didn't explain anything?"

Kyōraku just grinned.

"Ah, you know me, Jūshirō. I like to keep things spontaneous."

Ukitake chuckled softly before turning back to Seiya with a gentle smile.

"This is actually a personal tradition of Genryūsai-sensei. It started as a simple, private memorial for certain events in his past."

"But over the years, it became a yearly gathering for those closest to him."

"After all, a bit of company is better than sitting alone with old memories… wouldn't you agree?"

Ukitake's habit of inviting dialogue was refreshing.

Seiya nodded politely.

"If it were me… yes, I think I'd feel the same way."

From across the room, Yamamoto let out a low grunt.

"Unnecessary meddling."

"My intent was not to socialize. I hold this gathering to reflect on those lost."

Yamamoto's voice was low and steady, each word carrying the weight of history.

"Those cut down and reduced to ash."

"Those killed with grudges unresolved."

"Blood and iron vaporized by heat and light, clinging to my bones like dust."

Seiya sat in silence as Yamamoto spoke.

There was no change in the old man's expression.

Yet his words carried the somber gravity of someone burdened by centuries of loss.

Finally, Yamamoto's lips moved once more.

"Death brings sin. Death brings suffering."

"Remember this."

"Never take your own life lightly."

Kyōraku chuckled softly, whispering to Seiya with a mischievous grin.

"Tough to follow, right? Old folks love their heavy words."

Seiya raised an eyebrow.

"Kyōraku-taichō… maybe keep your voice down?"

But it was too late.

From behind them, the sliding door quietly opened.

Standing in the doorway was Unohana Retsu, her face calm and serene.

"Kyōraku-taichō," she said with a smile that was far too sweet.

"I couldn't help but overhear. May I ask… what exactly you were saying?"

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Powerstones?

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