Chapter 016: A Genuine Prodigy
"...Wait."
Something in Omaeda Kishinoshin's head had just stalled.
He spent several seconds working through it, trying to make sense of what he'd just heard, before finally managing a halting question.
"You're... not joking. Are you."
Yoruichi didn't answer directly. She just turned her head slightly, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth, tone dipping into something dry.
"Do I seem like the type who jokes around?"
That was a no.
Kishinoshin was on his feet instantly, expression going tight.
"Yoruichi-sama! A mission at this difficulty level should not be handed to students on a practice rotation! If this is the kind of threat that could put down a mid-ranked seated officer, shouldn't it be going to someone actually qualified to handle it?!"
"Kishinoshin, I didn't know you were the type to get this worked up over other people. I've never seen you like this before."
Anyone watching could tell that the man with the pompadour very much wanted to say something unpleasant right now.
But the person standing across from him was the noble his family had served for generations. Whatever was building in his chest, it was not going to make it out of his mouth.
He swallowed it. All of it. And when he spoke, his voice came out carefully measured.
"I'm not concerned about them. I'm concerned about our squad's casualty metrics."
The casualty metrics. Exactly that.
The Gotei 13's function was defense and engagement. As Matsushita Yusuke had privately assessed, it was a large organization built around conflict, and the work that came with that included injury and death as a matter of course.
But none of that made it acceptable to let the people under your command get ground up carelessly. Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni had issued a formal directive on this years ago.
Significant casualties outside of active wartime were a direct reflection of leadership failure.
No arguing with that. So the Gotei 13 largely operated with it in mind.
"Squad 2 has more latitude than most when it comes to acceptable losses, given the nature of our work. But this operation still falls under our umbrella. If too many people end up dead from a single training exercise..."
He couldn't finish it.
Because Yoruichi, being one of the four great noble houses, could weather almost anything Yamamoto might say to her. He'd show her a degree of consideration he simply wouldn't extend to others.
But someone would still have to answer for it. And if the captain couldn't be held fully responsible...
The vice-captain could.
Omaeda was a respected name, but on a scales-of-consequence comparison in a formal accountability hearing, Kishinoshin had no illusions about how that would land.
He'd become a very convenient target. The kind they pointed at from all directions.
Captain. You're pushing me into a fire pit right now!!
He kept all of that off his face. Contained, tight, professional.
That was, in its own way, one of Kishinoshin's particular talents.
"Yoruichi-sama. Please reconsider..."
"Ha! Kishinoshin, you're already cursing me out in your head, aren't you."
"I would never..."
"There is nothing in this world you wouldn't think!"
She let the joke land, then let it go.
Her expression shifted, settling back into something more level. She thought for a moment, then spoke quietly.
"I understand what you're worried about. But none of it is actually necessary. Because..." She paused. "I'm right here, aren't I?"
Yoruichi raised her right hand, a loose, easy gesture in the air in front of her. Her haori caught the breeze. Her voice came back up, sharp and certain the way it always was when she was completely serious.
"As long as the Shihoin clan head is standing on this field, how exactly would I let a group of students get killed?"
That... was a fair point.
Kishinoshin shifted, reluctant, then said quietly:
"Then what are you actually..."
"What am I after?"
She grinned. Unguarded and deliberate all at once.
"I'm thinking about the future of Soul Society."
Combat wasn't a game, and in her view, simulated training was close to useless.
"If they never face real danger, if they never see what a corrupted soul actually does -- how will any of them understand the work they're walking into?"
Live situations.
For Yoruichi Shihoin, that was the only honest measure of ability.
"The reason I chose to underreport the threat was exactly to run this test. And since I'm personally standing here, I have the means to catch anything that goes wrong."
As for the casualty metrics...
"I do understand what you carry, Kishinoshin. These past years, having you beside me has taken a real weight off. I want you to know that."
Whatever tension had still been sitting in him dissolved at that.
A leader who understood what her subordinate was holding. That went a long way.
"You're being too generous..."
"Alright. Since that's all settled -- Kishinoshin, let me ask you something."
Arms crossed, Yoruichi looked out over the stretch of rough, scraped-bare Rukongai spreading below them, her tone shifting into something more speculative.
"Do you think... there's any chance a real talent shows up out there today? Someone who handles the whole thing before I have to step in?"
"No. Impossible. Not happening. Please don't get your hopes up."
Three flat denials, delivered without a pause.
Kishinoshin was firm on this.
The reason was simple.
"An enhanced Hollow isn't something a normal spirit can go up against and survive. Most Shinigami, even good ones, need genuine combat experience before they can hold their own in a fight like that..."
It was a very specific kind of accumulation. The kind that only came from real situations.
Not flinching when you faced something that wanted you dead. Staying functional through injury. Finding the opening in a moment that was there and then gone. All of it together.
And every piece of that could only be learned the hard way.
Even if it came across as self-deprecating, Kishinoshin said it plainly.
"I'm a vice-captain. But compared to some of my peers who've put serious time into their combat development, I'm not especially impressive. I've had my moments of fear, moments of pulling back, moments of looking at a deteriorating situation and feeling something close to hopeless."
Those things built up. Formed walls. And for ordinary souls coming in without that foundation, those walls were nearly impossible to clear.
That said.
When reporting to your captain, you couldn't only give bad news. Managing the emotional temperature upward was also part of the job.
He turned the logic around and followed it the other way.
"That said, if someone managed to perform at the level you're describing -- despite coming in without any of that built-up experience..."
Then.
"I'd say that person was a genuine prodigy. No question about it."
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