The sight before him was interesting. He was certain that if it was the mad child called Mayuri in his place, the painted-faced captain would be salivating at the sight in front of him.
This was not just a Fullbring incident. And he had considered it—the cost of letting out so much reiatsu into this world. It didn't matter that the world was whole; it simply meant it could survive his presence and wouldn't implode at the appearance of a monster of his caliber.
Yet the destruction of the world was not the only reason Captain-class Shinigami and above did not cross the veil between worlds easily and without massive restrictions. It was the quality and volume of reishi particles they let out with their presence—world-changing volumes of reiatsu.
Enough reiatsu to change the way the world worked, to trigger the latent and turn them into full-blown spiritual sensitives. Yet Yamamoto had decided not to worry about it. He had not expected to fight much, nor to unleash so much reiatsu that the world would react to it—that the people present would shift from mundane humanity. This was supposed to be a retirement.
Until he met the Endbringer, and he was forced to release enough pressure that, while the world didn't straight-up crumble in his presence, it had cracked and twisted. And the result was staring him in the face.
A child of perhaps eight or ten cycles. A child that was more than a simple child—a child that was one of these... superpowered whelps. That was clear by the shard he could sense even better in her head. After his experience with the man and his whelp, where he watched her gain her powers, he understoodnow.
The difference between the humans and the powered ones—the strange shift in their reiryokuhe could always sense—was the shard connected to them. That was what determined the power of their reiatsu. So, the greater the power bestowed upon them, the greater their reikyou. And this child—this child was powerful. And that was before she somehow became spiritually aware.
Her eyes burned with fire as she stared at him, mesmerized like a moth to a flame. Her hand reached out like she wanted to touch him, and Yamamoto wondered. He had never seen her before, so even if she somehow became spiritually aware as a result of his reiatsu flooding the world during his fight with the Endbringer, how did the child manage to find him and pinpoint it to him?
Granny Sachiko began to figure something was wrong as her eyes flitted between them—the black-haired child, whose eyes seemed to glow and burn even brighter every second; the blonde-haired, blue-eyed child behind them who looked at Yamamoto yet also seemed to look beyondhim; and finally Yamamoto himself. With every second, her eyes widened, seeking to decipher their unspoken words.
Yamamoto turned away and began to walk up the stairs, but before he climbed, he stopped for a second, and without turning back, he spoke. "Feed the child and clothe her. When she is ready, I will seek her." The words came out in a tone he had not used in a long time—an order—yet one that Granny Sachiko took well, for she bowed.
"Of course, honored elder."
With those words, he continued his climb, one foot after the other, until he reached his room. The moment he opened the door, he heard the beginning of a question.
"Are you not going to tell him about them? The weird—"
He closed the door behind him and moved to sink into his seat. But first, he turned to his pots filled with planted tea leaves. They had begun to grow. He reached out his hand and his senses at the same time, feeling the leaves with calloused palms that had done nothing but destroy for centuries.
Curious. His theory was rapidly growing into fruition. He could sense it—the slightest hint of reishi in the leaves. More than had been there before. Leaving Yamamoto to wonder if it was worth it—flooding the world with reiatsu continuously, knowing the consequences of what such an act would cause. If his desire to host a proper tea ceremony would be worth it.
He was undecided, so he put it out of his mind and moved to sink into his chair as he had originally planned, while he pondered.
...
Granny Sachiko let out a breath the moment the honored elder began to climb the stairs. His presence could not be put into words, and that was without his full attention. She wondered how the rest of them did not sense the monster wrapped in old flesh—the strength of his seemingly withered and old limbs. Sachiko had thought she had experienced everything that had to do with the old man, especially after seeing the battle.
Now she knew she had barely scratched the surface. Because when Yamamoto had his attention on something, his presence shifted, pressing down on them in a way that could not be put into words. In a way that she didn't even think he was aware of. That was how little and beneath him they were.
She let out a shuddering breath as she straightened up and shifted back into the persona the kids called the four-armed slipper-wielding demon Sachiko.
"Are you not going to tell him about them? The weird men that keep snooping around?" Jin asked. The young man had taken up a leadership role in his group of young neighborhood watch members, and they were slowly beginning to form the basis of what was growing into a gang, with their white jackets.
"Perhaps, but that is for later." She turned to face the children and raised a brow at how both of them were fixated on the stairs that led to the upper floor.
With a clap of her hands, she drew their attention before letting out a smile. "Alright, let's start with names."
The black-haired one, with the eyes that burned, turned to her, and Sachiko stared straight into those eyes without the slightest hint of fear. Slowly, the fire began to dim until it was gone entirely, revealing sweet brown eyes. The girl blinked and took a half step back, a change sweeping over her. Gone was the assured and confident child that had stared up at the honored elder seconds ago, now she was simply a child that could hardly look an old woman in the eyes.
A personality shift that occurred whenever her powers were active, Sachiko guessed with the ease of experience.
The child dragged down the hem of her shirt to hide her injuries—injuries that Sachiko had spotted while patting the duo down, dusting off their soot- and dust-covered forms. Cigarette burns. An incident most likely related to her trigger.
"M-Mei Mei. That's my name. Mei Mei." The kid then turned to the blue-eyed child, who still seemed lost in thought, pupils dilated like a shell-shocked veteran with PTSD. A look Sachiko had seen multiple times, but never on a child this young. Sachiko stared down at the child's limbs, noting they weren't shaking, ruling out tremors. That counted out physical trauma, so it was most likely another person affected by their powers. "And this is Elle. She gets lost in her own world sometimes, don't mind her."
Sachiko nodded and gave a smile in response, smoothing the blonde hair over. "It's fine. Now, I'm not going to ask where you're from, but just to be sure, should we be expecting any trouble?" she questioned, her voice hardening with a seriousness the child could interpret.
She wasn't sure the child truly understood, until the faintest embers sparked alight in her eyes. There was a hint of that spine—one that had stared up at the old man who had killed an Endbringer.
"No."
Sachiko stared at her for a long second before she smiled. "That's good." She turned and waved over one of the little hellions hanging about. "Uta, come and lead them to the bath." The brown-haired brat dashed forward, dragging the duo by their hands and leading them further into the house.
Sachiko turned to the door just as someone knocked. She gestured for Jin to open it while she found a seat to fall into—her favorite high-back chair. She dropped into it with ease and let out a sigh as she sank into the foam.
She was really growing too old for all of this.
The door opened to reveal a young man in a hoodie. After a few hushed questions from Jin, the man was finally let in. He took careful steps into the house, his eyes darting at every angle, like a sheep led into a dragon's lair. Considering who they had upstairs, it wasn't much of a surprise or an exaggeration.
When the young man finally came to a stop a few meters from her, Sachiko decided to ease his presence with assurance. "The Honored Elder is busy, so tell me what you're here for as quickly as possible."
The young man gave a final glance at the stairs leading up before turning to face her with a respectful bow. During his nervous glancing, two of Jin's friends—fellow neighborhood watch members clad in their white jackets—stood on either side of the high-back chair she had sunk into. She realized she must look like one of those villains in the movies the kids always watched. She suppressed a chuckle at the thought and focused on the man as he began to speak.
"Some of the closest asian gangs around us have begun to merge and consolidate."
The opening words confused Sachiko. The only reason they would merge was to fight a stronger group. While the strongest group was the Marche, she doubted they could contend with them.
"Are you sure about this?"
The youth nodded and continued. "Yes, granny. The kids spotted those weird men with heavy accents meeting gang heads in dark corners and alleyways before they eventually move along. I'm not sure what it means, this consolidation, but I don't believe it's for our good, Grandma Sachiko."
Sachiko thought, her mind racing as a memory tickled the back of her head—a modus operandi she was familiar with. A modus operandi she had been involved in. Slowly, a chill began to crawl up her spine.
A scattered group of heavily accented English speakers had observed their building shortly after the Endbringer battle was leaked. A group that had not approached but instead disappeared into the shadows.
Now, the previously neutered and quiet gangs that feared the Honored Elder's presence in their midst had begun to stir, consolidating with other gangs. Yet it didn't take a genius to know that, at the end of the day, no matter how many capes and foot soldiers they brought to bear, if they challenged the Honored Elder, they would lose. Horribly. So why would they act up now?
The realization hit her with the force of a lightning strike. There was only one group she knew capable of operating like this, deploying wetwork teams as a smokescreen, while using disposable assets to mask their true agenda.
A group from the old world, a life she had left behind and was led by a man whose obsession with killing an Endbringer was legendary, a man who would undoubtedly be drawn to the Honored Elder, the one who had accomplished that impossible feat.
Null.
She should have known. Null was interested in the Honored Elder, and that could only mean one thing, her breath hitched. the bastard had sent the Yangban.