"The current Tenjirō is too weak…"

Araki silently commented, his eyes fixed on the pitiful figure of Kirinji Tenjirō—utterly devastated, kneeling amid the fallen strands of his once-glorious hair.

With Araki's current strength, defeating a pre-Zero Squad Kirinji didn't even warrant a Shikai, let alone a Bankai.

"Alright, the game's over."

Araki patted Kirinji's shoulder and pointed casually at the pile of severed hair on the ground.

"You saw the result for yourself."

"So now—can you teach Unohana and Yoruichi Kaidō and Shunpo?"

"I'm not in the mood right now!!"

Kirinji barked like a child who'd just lost his toy.

"Do you know how much effort I put into this ultra-stylish crew cut every day?!"

"Do you have any idea how much I've paid for my dashing hairstyle?!"

"Ever since I got this cut, I haven't buried my face in a pillow again!"

He sobbed, eyes locked on the fallen strands like they were corpses of beloved comrades.

"This guy's really a scumbag…"

Unohana's voice was calm as ever as she unsheathed her zanpakutō again.

Honestly, she'd wanted to slice this idiot in half since the first time they met.

"Go ahead and kill me!" Kirinji yelled dramatically.

"But if you do, there'll be no one left to teach you Kaidō and Shunpo!"

His attempt to bluff was betrayed by the sweat dripping down his trembling nose.

Unohana didn't say a word. She raised her sword, its tip leveling at Kirinji's neck with surgical precision. Her gaze was void of mercy.

"Wait… wait—are you serious?!"

Kirinji's heart skipped. That murderous intent wasn't an act.

He finally realized just how unpleasant he must've been to provoke someone like her.

Araki sighed. "…ROOM."

With a subtle motion of his hand, the long strands scattered across the ground trembled, lifted by unseen force. Under the influence of Araki's power, the fallen hair danced through the air, flowing back into place—reforming Kirinji's ridiculous, iconic airplane head.

To be honest, Araki had to mentally brace himself to restore something so obnoxious. He reminded himself repeatedly—"He's still useful."

"It's back… it's really back…"

Kirinji reached up, gently caressing the restored hairstyle with quivering hands like it was a priceless sculpture.

And then, he howled at the sky.

"Araki! You're my long-lost brother! From this day forward, whatever you need from me, just say the word! I'll do it with all my strength—without hesitation!"

The newly resurrected Kirinji sprang up, seized Araki's hand in both of his, and wept tears of loyalty.

"As for what you asked—leave it to me! I'll teach them both Shunpo and Kaidō! I swear it!"

"Huh…"

Araki raised an eyebrow. Somehow, now that the airplane head was back, Kirinji felt complete again—almost like the hair was the real Kirinji.

"Still useful—for now."

Araki wordlessly yanked his hand from Kirinji's greasy grip, then turned to Unohana and made a wiping motion—signaling that once they drained Kirinji of every last technique, they could erase him.

Unohana nodded.

"Understood."

Her sword slowly slid back into its sheath.

"What if he doesn't teach properly?" she asked.

"Then kill him too."

"Got it."

Unohana smiled faintly.

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm right here!"

Kirinji screamed.

"At least wait until I leave the room before plotting my murder!"

"Have a little respect for 'The Thunderbolt,' will you?!"

His right eyelid twitched violently again. This time, he understood why.

He'd run into two calamities.

"Well… I already promised to teach you. I won't go back on my word."

"But how much you learn—depends on you."

Hands on hips, airplane head gleaming with restored pride, Kirinji's confidence returned in full.

Apparently, with great hair came great arrogance.

"Seems like Yoruichi isn't the only one who needs a lesson…"

Araki noted, silently adding Kirinji to the list of future targets to be "disciplined."

But for now, he had more pressing matters. He hadn't returned from Hueco Mundo just to captain the 11th Division.

He had far grander ambitions.

"Where are you going, Araki?!"

Unohana seemed to notice Araki's preoccupation and asked gently.

"After seeing Yoruichi and Tenjirō, I had a few more ideas in mind, so I decided to test their feasibility," Araki replied, glancing at her.

But even then, Araki didn't explain to Unohana Retsu exactly what he planned to do.

"Bon voyage."

Unohana didn't press further. After living with Araki for over a hundred years, their mutual understanding had become absolute.

"Be safe," she added softly. Though she didn't know his exact destination, Unohana instinctively felt that whatever Araki was about to do would shake all of Soul Society.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine! You know I've always been against violence," Araki said with a grin, waving goodbye to Unohana before turning to Yoruichi, who stood with his arms folded and a conflicted expression.

"Yoruichi, remember to study Shunpo with your uncle Kirinji! When I get back, I'll check your progress."

"And Kirinji—make sure you teach her properly!"

Araki truly didn't trust that "little rascal."

"Don't worry, don't worry! My talent is unmatched in the world!" Yoruichi responded confidently, waving at him.

"Huh? Uncle? Shouldn't that be brother?" Kirinji grumbled from the side, still struggling with how to label himself. In his heart, he was definitely too young to be an uncle.

"Yeah," Araki nodded, feeling a little more reassured by Yoruichi's response.

"Now then…"

Araki turned and strode off into the distance, thoughts churning.

[Context on Seireitei's Structure]

Within Seireitei—underneath the Central Forty-Six, the assembly of nobles—three major organizations formed the core of Soul Society's power structure:

The Gotei 13, representing the samurai, tasked with defending Seireitei and maintaining order throughout Soul Society.

The Onmitsukidō (Hidden Maneuvers), functioning as a covert ops unit—assassins and intelligence agents handling the nobles' dirtiest work.

The Kidōshū, akin to ancient Onmyōji, handling barriers, seals, rituals, and advanced spellwork—including the Soul Funeral Rite, which allowed high-level Shinigami to descend into Hell.

In theory, these three were equal in status. At least, that's how it appeared on the surface…

Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, by virtue of raw power, had command over all three. Even the Central Forty-Six and the other branches bowed to him.

That remained unchanged for centuries—until a woman named Shihōin Yoruichi came along. As both head of the Shihōin Clan and commander-in-chief of the Onmitsukidō, she absorbed the entire Hidden Maneuvers unit into the 2nd Division's command structure. Her successor, Soi Fong, maintained that legacy.

[Araki's Goal]

Araki's objective was simple in intent, yet revolutionary in consequence: Before overthrowing Yamamoto, he first needed to seize control of the remaining two organizations—the Kidōshū and the Onmitsukidō.

To put it plainly, Araki was reaching across boundaries, into institutions long protected by noble privilege.

If the Kidōshū's dominance over barriers and rituals was tolerable to the nobles, the Onmitsukidō—keepers of their dirty secrets—were another matter entirely. If Araki seized control of that, they'd be like mewling kittens—completely powerless.

"Yoruichi can handle the Onmitsukidō," Araki muttered. "Let her serve as deputy commander. I'll use her final exam as a pretext to subjugate those assassins. But as for me…"

"I want both the Onmitsukidō and the Kidōshū," Araki decided. "Adults don't make choices—they take everything."

[At the Kidōshū Barracks]

Araki arrived at the towering gates of the Kidōshū.

"Who goes there?" barked a gatekeeper, robed in Kidōshū colors.

"Who am I?" Araki smiled. "I'm here to teach your Grand Kido Chief the proper way to use Kidō."

"…What?"

The gatekeeper was stunned. This man dared claim he could instruct the Grand Kido Chief?

"Do you know who the Grand Kido Chief is?! He's the most powerful Kidō user in all the Three Realms! You think you can teach him? I see you're wearing a haori, so you're a Gotei captain—fine. But this is the domain of the Kidōshū. If you don't leave now, we'll report this to Captain-Commander Yamamoto!"

But Araki didn't respond. He simply raised his hand and whispered—

"Hadō #99: Fifth Dragon Transmigration."

A brilliant azure dragon burst forth from beneath his feet, spiraling into the sky and carrying Araki upward in a swirl of raw spirit energy.

"So… your Grand Kido Chief is the best in the Three Realms at Kidō, huh?" Araki asked coldly, standing atop the dragon's glowing head.

"Th-that Kidō… what kind of spiritual particle density is this?!"

"I've never even heard of Hadō number ninety-nine! If this is what he used without an incantation… even our current Grand Kido Chief might not be able to match it!"

The Kidōshū guards stared in shock. The energy Araki exuded didn't resemble Kidō at all—it felt more like a Bankai.

Araki, high above, looked down.

"Now then…"

He soared skyward atop the divine dragon, eyes locked onto the heart of the Kidōshū.

Time to show them how real spellwork was done.

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