Bleach: In Soul Society, I just want to retire

"Wait a minute, old man, don't activate your Bankai yet! I'm still here!" Yamabuki Ditang's voice cracked as he shouted, his face contorted in sheer terror.

Without wasting another second, he vanished in a blur, using Shunpo to put as much distance as possible between himself and Yamamoto.

The very next moment, the air itself ignited. An unimaginably massive column of fire roared into the sky, painting the heavens a hellish shade of red. Even though Yamabuki had managed to flee, he wasn't quite fast enough. The sheer heat from Yamamoto's Bankai scorched his hair and eyebrows, singed his clothes, and left his skin prickling with intense pain. If he had lingered even a second longer, he would've been reduced to ash.

The Sword of Fire's awakening didn't just scorch the air—it reshaped it. The once-clear skies of Soul Society transformed into a fiery, turbulent expanse, as if the heavens themselves were aflame.

Hollows in the sky began to shriek and convulse, their bodies roasted alive before they could even think to retreat. Like leaves in a wildfire, they crumbled and fell, blackened husks disintegrating before hitting the ground.

A spiritual pressure, so overwhelming and oppressive that it felt like the wrath of the gods, exploded outward from Yamamoto. The power wasn't just suffocating—it was blinding, as if even looking at the source of this might would burn one's soul.

The entire Soul Society froze.

Both Shinigami and Hollows alike ceased their battles, all eyes turning toward the fiery vortex spiraling into the sky. A terrifying hush fell over the battlefield.

"What… what is that?" The head of the Tsunayashiro family, one of the Five Great Noble Houses, collapsed to his knees. His sword, the Yanra Kagide—a weapon revered by his clan for generations—trembled in his hands.

But at this moment, the noble realized a bitter truth: in the presence of Yamamoto's Bankai, his so-called sacred blade was nothing more than a glorified stick of kindling.

The remaining Hollows, driven only by primal instinct, scrambled for their lives. A massive black cavity tore open in the sky as they fled back to Hueco Mundo, desperate to escape the apocalyptic inferno.

Yamamoto's eyes burned brighter than the flames surrounding him as he raised his blade slowly, almost lazily, toward the sky. The motion seemed casual—effortless.

Then, with a simple swing, he unleashed hell.

A tidal wave of flame exploded from his sword, engulfing the entire sky. The fire stretched as far as the eye could see, consuming everything in its path. The Hollows, whether they were lesser creatures or even Adjuchas, stood no chance. In an instant, they were vaporized, their very existence erased.

The heat was so intense, it felt like the entire Soul Society had been thrust into a volcanic eruption. The sky burned with such ferocity that it appeared as though the world itself was ablaze.

On the ground below, Shinigami stared upward in stunned silence. None of them dared to speak. None of them could even comprehend what they had just witnessed.

Yamabuki Ditang swallowed hard, his throat dry. He couldn't stop his body from trembling.

Back in his previous life, when he'd been nothing more than a Bleach fan watching the anime, he'd always wondered how Yamamoto had managed to defeat Yhwach, the "omniscient and omnipotent" Quincy King, a thousand years ago.

Now, after witnessing the sheer devastation of this attack, Yamabuki felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for Yhwach.

For Yhwach to have survived a battle against this power, even if he had been paralyzed for a thousand years afterward… the man must have been nothing short of incredible.

Yamabuki muttered to himself, "If it were me in Yhwach's place, I wouldn't have lasted a single second. I'd be reduced to ashes before I even realized what hit me!"

Beside him, Shihōin Chihiro's jaw hung open. His usual grin was replaced by an expression of awe and admiration. "So this… this is our boss," he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. "I made the right call. There's no doubt about it now—I chose the right person to follow."

Yamamoto finally lowered his sword. His voice, deep and commanding, rang out across the Soul Society, cutting through the stunned silence like a blade.

"I am Yamamoto Shigekuni, Captain of the Gotei 13! We are the guardians of the Soul Society! Let it be known: those who dare to challenge us will face justice, no matter where they hide!"

The proclamation echoed across the land, leaving an indelible impression on all who heard it.

This was the moment Yamamoto Shigekuni ceased to be just another powerful Shinigami. Today, his name became legend.

For the nobles who had witnessed this spectacle firsthand, the impact was even greater. These so-called elites, who prided themselves on their spiritual heritage, now found themselves cowering like frightened children.

But even their fear couldn't override their innate instinct to worship power.

It was only natural. The strong had always commanded the respect and loyalty of the weak.

As Yamabuki glanced at the crowd, he could already see it happening.

"Mark my words," Yamabuki whispered, smirking. "By tomorrow, every noble in the Soul Society will be bending over backward to join us. They'll be lining up to throw their money at the Gotei 13."

Chihiro turned to Yamabuki, his grin finally returning. "Your plan worked," he said, clapping the younger Shinigami on the back.

"No, no," Yamabuki replied modestly, waving a hand. "I was just helping the Captain-General out. All credit goes to him."

In truth, Yamabuki's plan had been simple, even crude—but it was effective.

The key was timing.

To put it bluntly, it all boiled down to creating a desperate situation.

If you handed a loaf of bread to someone on the street, they might accept it politely—or even dismiss you as a fool. But if that same person were starving, teetering on the brink of death after days without food, they would treat you as their savior.

The same principle applied here.

First, Chihiro had unleashed a swarm of Hollows, throwing Soul Society into chaos and pushing the nobles to the brink of despair.

Then, just as all hope seemed lost, Yamamoto had appeared like a god descending from the heavens, wiping out the threat in a single, awe-inspiring strike.

The result? Every noble in Soul Society now viewed Yamamoto and the Gotei 13 as their only salvation.

And the best part? It had been Yamabuki who had convinced Yamamoto to aim for maximum impact. Instead of defeating the Hollows in a prolonged battle, Yamamoto's single strike had left no room for doubt about his unmatched power.

As the flames in the sky began to die down, Yamamoto turned to Yamabuki.

"Is this the strength you wanted to see?" the old man asked, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of pride.

Yamabuki hesitated for a moment, still shaken by what he had just witnessed. Finally, he managed to nod. "Strength? No, Captain… that wasn't just strength. That was… that was terrifying!"

Yamamoto chuckled softly. "Terrifying? If I had used my full power, this entire Soul Society would've been reduced to ash. You wouldn't even be here to complain about it."

The old man's words sent a chill down Yamabuki's spine.

"Now," Yamamoto continued, sheathing his Zanpakutō. "We wait. Let the nobles come to us."

As expected, Yamabuki's plan unfolded flawlessly.

The chaos caused by the Hollows left the nobles scrambling to rebuild, but none dared to forget the fiery blade that had saved their lives. Yamamoto Shigekuni became the name on everyone's lips, his strength and authority unquestionable.

Back in his quarters, Yamamoto returned to his calligraphy, his brush gliding smoothly across the paper.

Meanwhile, Yamabuki sat nearby, a satisfied smile on his face. "The Captain-General is the sword," he mused, "but every great sword needs someone to wield it. Looks like that's where I come in."

The Gotei 13 was now a force to be reckoned with—and Yamabuki Ditang was determined to keep it that way.

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