Yamamoto-soutaichō had once told him that it was merely a baby-like Bankai.
Chōjirō was not disappointed; instead, he responded with genuine happiness.
"You are right, Soutaichō. I will dedicate my entire life to refining this Bankai. I only ask for your guidance!"
Those words were not empty flattery but the vow of his heart. Through years of rigorous training, Chōjirō's name became known throughout the Soul Society. On his brow remained two scars, crossing one another like the shape of a cross.
From that point forward, everyone began calling him Jūjirōsai.
Only Chōjirō himself refused it.
"How could I allow scars inflicted by someone as junior as myself to alter the name of Your Excellency, Yama-jii?"
Thus, everyone continued to address him as Master Yama-jii.
Yamamoto Shigekuni once looked upon the green willows and heard the calls of birds near the corridor.
For Chōjirō's sake, he adopted the name Genryūsai.
He took up his brush and wrote upon white paper the name "Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto."
"Captain!"
Hisagi Shūhei's anxious cry broke through the thunderous roar. Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni lay motionless beneath the blazing lightning of the violet Huanghuang Yanling Palace.
"What's happening? Old man, did your subordinate's Bankai strike you down so hard you've no strength left to rise? Hey-say something!"
As Kōkō Gonryō Rikyū's power faded, the flames finally dispersed. The feathered haori covering Yamamoto's body was singed black, its once pristine edges now jagged and torn.
At last, his deep and weathered tone emerged through the silence.
"Chōjirō-you must be truly angry."
"I feel your rage clearly."
"After countless years of tempering your Bankai, it could not have been so weak."
Yamamoto Genryūsai stepped toward Driscoll Berci and drew his blade in one clean motion.
Flames surged, rising high as waterfalls of fire that consumed Driscoll within seconds.
It was no ordinary flame-it was reiryoku ignited into flame, spiritual pressure so dense it incinerated everything it touched.
Driscoll's body vanished within that inferno, flesh and bone reduced to ash, ash consumed into pure nothingness by the heat of Yamamoto's blade.
"Chōjirō…"
"I have finally avenged you."
"Goodbye, my trusted friend."
Turning away, his white haori disintegrated into embers drifting upon the blaze. Beneath it, his shihakushō clung tightly to his commanding form as the torrent of fire behind him stretched toward the heavens.
His reiryoku flared so intensely that every soul in the Seireitei could feel it trembling through the air.
It was as though another sun had risen in the Soul Society.
Hisagi Shūhei could only stare in disbelief. "C-Captain... Captain..."
"Do not worry," Yamamoto said, his tone rumbling with restrained fury. "I will personally exterminate every last one of those bandits."
He stepped past Shūhei, each movement radiating heat and pressure that bent the air itself.
With one footstep, the ground exploded beneath him-a crater expanding outward, devouring hundreds of meters of Seireitei's white walls and towers. Flames rolled outward as Yamamoto's body launched forward like an arrow loosed from its string.
Kensei Muguruma, Rōjūrō Ūtoribashi, Ukitake Jūshirō, and Unohana Retsu-all of them felt that raging reiryoku from afar.
Even Sui-Fēng, now grown even stronger and sharper over two years, widened her eyes in awe. Though she couldn't see the fight from her location, the weight of that spiritual pressure left little doubt about whose power it was.
"What's happening?" one of her subordinates asked.
Sui-Fēng answered with solemn understanding. "Can't you tell? The Captain-General... is furious."
---
Hinamori Momo followed behind Hirako Shinji.
Two years had passed since the war's beginning, and Momo's appearance had changed. Her hair, once tied into its familiar bun, now fell loosely to her shoulders; on its left side hung what looked like a small medical pouch tied with white cloth resembling a bow.
Anyone who hadn't seen her for these two years would be startled upon meeting her again-
"Who are you, beautiful one?" they might say without realizing it was the same Momo Hinamori.
She looked back in the direction of Yamamoto's spiritual pressure.
"This is the first time I've ever seen the Captain-General so angry," she said softly.
"Idiot," Shinji replied with his usual drawl. "Even I've rarely seen the old man fight on the front lines."
---
Hitsugaya Tōshirō stood firm, eyes burning with determination.
"The Captain-General has entered battle himself," he said. "There's no way we, the Captains and Vice-Captains, are allowed to falter now."
---
"Waaaaaaaaaah!"
Komamura Sajin raised his head and roared toward the sky, his entire body trembling with invigorated resolve.
For others, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni might only be their Commander-General.
For Komamura Sajin, however, Genryūsai-dono was far beyond that-he was the very one who had saved him from rejection and despair. When the world had turned away from his beastlike appearance, it was Yamamoto-dono who had extended acceptance and opportunity, granting him the honor of joining the Gotei 13. Without that act of recognition, Komamura would not stand where he did today-as Captain of the Seventh Division.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni was both teacher and benefactor-his very existence the reason Komamura continued to fight.
Without him, Komamura Sajin would have been nothing.
"Stand!" Komamura commanded his troops. "How dare you fall when Genryūsai-sama himself is fighting upright? To collapse now would bring shame to the Gotei 13!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Yes, Captain!"
Dozens of Shinigami rose to their feet and shouted in unison, their spirits reignited by his words.
Nearby, Bambietta Basterbine gripped her blood-stained blade, blinking in surprise.
"What the-? You were practically dead just now! How are you standing again already?"
---
Kyōraku Shunsui adjusted his straw hat and sighed softly.
"What a pain," he said, looking up at the pillar of flame that split the skyline of Seireitei. "Yama-jii's reiryoku echoes through the whole Seireitei."
He gave a small, uneasy chuckle. "Can't deny-it's giving me goosebumps."
His gaze darkened slightly as he raised both his swords. "It's almost as if he's scolding us for being useless against enemies of this level. I don't remember him ever teaching us to stand by and watch."
He slashed forward.
"Right?"
Robert Accutrone blocked the strike with his firearm-shaped Quincy weapon and sneered.
"Well said, Shinigami. It's good your morale's high-certainly worth celebrating."
"But you've misjudged one thing."
"Your Commander-General... will lose to our King."
"After that, it won't just be you who are inspired."
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