Hearing what the Captain-Commander said, Moyu felt a quiet surge of hope stir within him. For the first time, he sensed an opening—a chance to speak on equal ground.
"That would be… great," he said, his voice steady but measured.
"This is the highest authority in the entire Seireitei, the Captain-Commander himself," Ichigo explained, his tone carrying both respect and caution.
At those words, Moyu extended his hand and greeted him with polite composure.
"I was just passing through and happened to notice these two young Shinigami. Their Reiatsu was promising, so I decided to offer them a few pointers," Moyu said calmly.
Yamamoto Genryūsai nodded slightly. That was, after all, a reasonable explanation—and an act of goodwill.
"My true name is Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni. And you are?"
"My name is Moyu."
Their exchange was brief but deliberate. Two warriors acknowledging one another's presence.
"Tell me, Moyu. Why are you wandering this sector? And why have you not registered with the Seireitei's External Spirit Activity Bureau?"
At this, Moyu looked troubled. "I wasn't aware such a regulation existed. Had I known, I'd have followed it without hesitation. I never intend to cause disorder."
Yamamoto's brow furrowed slightly. His tone remained composed, but his eyes sharpened. "You mean to say you were unaware of Soul Society's laws? Every wandering soul or Shinigami passing through must report to a Division."
"I truly didn't know," Moyu replied. "I'm… new to this realm. I suppose you could say I have no fixed place here. I've been wandering—searching for understanding—so every world I enter feels both foreign and familiar."
The Captain-Commander's gaze lingered on him. There was weight in Moyu's words—something layered beneath them. "Another world," he had said. Yamamoto understood enough to know Moyu wasn't aligned with any known Division, nor bound to a noble house. He was an unregistered force—self-trained, unclaimed, and unpredictable.
Nearby, the wounded Shinigami were being treated. To Yamamoto's keen eyes, their reiryoku was stabilizing rapidly—faster than any standard healing Kidō could manage. That alone spoke volumes about Moyu's strength.
"Your power is impressive," Yamamoto admitted. "For one who trained alone, to defeat a Chūnin-level Shinigami on the verge of promotion to seated rank… your Reiatsu control is remarkable."
He folded his hands behind his back, his presence heavy as a mountain. "You understand that among our ranks, even mid-level Shinigami have survived centuries of war. To overwhelm one so easily speaks to your potential—and your danger."
Moyu remained silent, his expression unreadable.
To Yamamoto, that silence was telling. Power without allegiance was always a risk. A wanderer this strong could shift balance in any direction.
"Since you have no home or Division," Yamamoto said, his tone softening slightly, "I would see you properly settled within the Seireitei. If you accept, I'll assign you a place among our ranks. What do you say?"
The two younger Shinigami nearby—Ichigo and Rukia—exchanged a quick glance, excitement flickering in their eyes. To them, Moyu was more than a mysterious outsider. He was warmth incarnate—a calm, reassuring force amid chaos.
Having someone like that within their walls would mean more than just strength. It meant connection, understanding… maybe even change.
"Our Gotei 13," Rukia added with a small smile, "is the strongest among the Soul Society's divisions. With your power, you'd be a tremendous asset."
Ichigo nodded. "You'd have access to our best resources—and you'd never have to walk alone again."
Yamamoto watched them speak, the faintest flicker of approval in his eyes. Their faith in the Seireitei—and in Moyu—reflected everything he valued in true Shinigami.
For a long moment, silence hung between them, heavy with possibility. Then, slowly, Moyu exhaled, a faint smile crossing his face.
Perhaps, after all this wandering, he had finally found a place worth belonging to.
This was the Soul Society—for him, and for the Commander who had extended his hand.
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