Morning.
Sōsuke rose from his bed.
The regular routine of recent days had set his internal clock, and the unprecedented safety of his new environment ensured he slept soundly each night.
He looked noticeably healthier than when he first arrived.
The small boy climbed off the futon spread on the tatami, deftly folding the bedding and pillow, tucking them into a nearby closet with ease.
Glancing around, this modest room, less than ten tatami mats (about sixteen square meters), was his private haven since moving into the Makoto estate.
Though he'd seen it countless times, waking from sleep and realizing he now lived in one of the grandest homes at the heart of the Seireitei still felt surreal.
But such days wouldn't last long.
Sōsuke thought to himself, his gaze shifting to a blue-and-white straight-sleeved uniform by the closet.
The standard male uniform of Shin'ō Academy.
Today was the reopening.
Perhaps from spending so long in this peaceful setting, the sight of the uniform sparked a faint, childlike excitement in Sōsuke.
After all, at home, that Makoto guy taught him nothing.
"Sōsuke! Up yet?"
"Yes!"
Lost in thought, he heard the familiar call from outside.
Sōsuke pursed his lips, suppressing a smile, and raised his voice to reply.
Dressed in the uniform, he stepped out to find Kirio-nee, as usual, having prepared a lavish breakfast spread.
It seemed even more extravagant than normal.
"Sōsuke?"
Kirio turned, spotting the small figure in the blue-and-white uniform emerging from the corridor, a smile curling her lips. "Fits perfectly! I was a bit worried."
"The academy's pretty thorough."
Sizzle!
Seafood fried rice tumbled from the pan into a bowl, steaming with enticing aroma that stirred the appetite.
Kirio handed the bowl to Sōsuke with a warm grin. "Study hard at school, okay?"
"Yes!" Sōsuke tilted his head, his cute face beaming with a sunny smile. "Thank you, Kirio-nee."
Kirio waved dismissively, all casual generosity.
Makoto eyed the heaping bowl of seafood rice in front of Sōsuke, then looked expectantly at Kirio.
But as he turned, Kirio's face hardened, sliding a bowl of plain porridge mixed with pickles before him. "Here, Makoto-nii's share!"
Her tone carried a deliberate edge.
Makoto's face fell. "Huh?!"
"Where's my seafood rice?"
Kirio kept her icy demeanor, turning away. "That's Sōsuke's first-day gift! You're not going to school, so you get the usual."
Makoto's eyes darted to the massive, basin-sized bowl of seafood rice in front of Kirio. "But you're eating it too!"
"I cooked it. If you don't like it, make your own." She shot back, unyielding.
"This is domestic abuse!"
Sōsuke sat quietly on his chair, short legs swinging in the air, watching the couple's verbal sparring while spooning rice into his mouth.
His gaze on Makoto held no pity.
Ever since Makoto didn't come home two nights ago, returning the next morning reeking of perfume from who-knows-where, Kirio had been like this.
His household status had plummeted below even a pet's.
With such a great wife, yet always wandering off, what a playboy.
Utterly undeserving of sympathy!
Due to the early bedtime enforced by the adults and his subtle actions never escaping Makoto's notice, Sōsuke hadn't picked up on any differences between this couple and an ordinary one, even after all this time.
Noticing his stare, Makoto, holding his porridge, flashed a mischievous grin. "Sōsuke."
"Chew slowly. I'll walking you to school."
"It's your first day, can't be late."
"Huh?!" A chill ran down Sōsuke's spine.
Sadly, he had no say in the matter.
…
At the gates of Shin'ō Academy, a sea of people thronged.
Due to the previous incident, the academy's students from first to sixth year had been nearly wiped out, with only a few survivors. This time, recruitment opened to all of Rukongai, admitting students based on reiatsu talent and knowledge, regardless of grade, on a scale far larger than before, with a wider range of apparent ages.
But with Shinigami maintaining order, students lined up neatly, the scene orderly despite the crowd.
Having passed the reiatsu test via internal channels, Sōsuke didn't need to queue and could enter directly.
But as he hurried toward the gate, eager to escape Makoto's grasp, a heavy hand clamped his shoulder.
"What's the rush?"
"School doesn't start for a bit."
Sōsuke's body stiffened.
Turning, he saw Makoto's face, backlit by the sun, casting deep shadows, his whole demeanor dark and ominous, his smile dripping with malice like a Menos emerging from a Garganta.
"Makoto-sama?"
Sōsuke's face twitched, forcing a strained smile.
Makoto's grin grew gentler. "It's no big deal, just a little test for you."
"I'm not some monster, after all."
Sōsuke quietly sighed in relief.
Though Makoto hadn't taught him anything during this time, based on their prior clash and his self-assessment, Sōsuke was confident in his abilities.
In brains or strength, he wouldn't lose to anyone at the academy.
On this, Sōsuke had unshakable confidence.
"Your orders, please!"
Makoto reached out, patting his head lightly, his tone warm. "Whatever you're thinking."
"Just try to make a true friend at school."
"?"
Sōsuke, brimming with confidence, faltered, looking up in confusion.
The request left him momentarily at a loss.
"Is that… really a requirement?"
He asked, puzzled.
"Of course." Makoto said matter-of-factly. "For you, Sōsuke, that's probably the hardest thing."
His hands tucked into his loose sleeves, Makoto stood in his striking white captain's haori, yet passersby seemed oblivious to him, chatting as they walked by.
At the heart of the crowd, he stood like a lone figure on a mountaintop, gazing down gently. "After all, you haven't fully trusted anyone yet, have you?"
"Not me, not Kirio."
"Getting into your heart is no easy task."
"Probably even you can't do it, right?"
Sōsuke's smile stiffened, as if Makoto's casual tone had pierced a deeply buried secret.
But he tilted his head like a child, feigning confusion. "What do you mean?"
Thwack.
Makoto's hand flicked his forehead lightly.
He turned to leave. "Just do your best."
"…"
Sōsuke stood silent for a long moment, watching Makoto's figure fade, his cherubic face betraying a depth ill-suited to his age.
Only when Makoto was out of sight did Sōsuke lower his head, rubbing his slightly red forehead, muttering to himself. "That kind of thing is simple."
"Spending time with people who can't keep up… it's just meaningless."
"You of all people should understand that, right?"
"Makoto Fujimiya."
As he mused, a Shinigami in a black shihakushō approached, calling out, "Test-cleared students, gather here!"
Sōsuke turned, his cute face lighting up with childlike enthusiasm, joining the others in a loud, drawn-out reply: "Yes!"
...
"My name is Sōsuke Aizen."
"I like soft bread, but I hate eggs and getting scrubbed in the bath!"
"I'm skilled at calligraphy, and my hobbies are reading and practicing writing."
"I hope to spend the next six years happily with everyone!"
As Sōsuke returned to his seat, his classmates' faintly surprised gazes lingered before drifting away.
Sōsuke, seemingly oblivious, flashed a sunny smile and settled back down.
Their surprise wasn't unexpected.
Entry to Shin'ō Academy required rigorous reiatsu and physical tests, and those in this first-year, first-class room had been handpicked through intense selection. They knew how high the bar was.
For a child as young as Sōsuke, setting aside whether his reiatsu would grow with age, the physical tests alone would be daunting.
His presence here could mean only one thing.
A rare genius.
Sōsuke wasn't fazed by their reactions, it was only natural.
Across Soul Society, perhaps only Makoto, Kirio, and a few close acquaintances would be unfazed by a child reaching vice-captain-level reiatsu.
This was why he found ordinary people's perceptions and intellect so dull.
Moreover.
While others observed him, Sōsuke was quietly sizing up his classmates.
Though he scoffed at Makoto's so-called 'test,' he knew better than to ignore it until he surpassed him.
A wise man knows when to yield.
After a while, his gaze paused on a boy his age in the front row.
This one seemed promising.
"My name is Shinji Hirako."
A small boy with a yellow bob haircut, his expression gloomy and listless, spoke in a voice barely audible.
"I don't like anything in particular, and I don't hate anything either."
"My talent is… writing my name backward."
Sōsuke's lips curled into a warm smile.
Someone like this, seemingly scarred by trauma, would likely cling like glue with just a bit of kindness, right?
His reiatsu wasn't bad either.
This should pass Makoto's test.
And it wouldn't demand much time to maintain the friendship.
Sōsuke cherished every moment free from Makoto's watchful eye and had no intention of wasting it on pointless things.
Unbeknownst to him.
As his gaze settled on the yellow-haired boy, Shinji's peripheral vision flicked toward him almost simultaneously.
But unlike Sōsuke's eagerness to check off Makoto's task, Shinji's thoughts were elsewhere.
Looking at Sōsuke in the back, Shinji recalled his 'last enrollment' and the familiar treatment he'd received.
The title of genius, the crowd's attention, the envy and awe of peers…
All shattered in one brutal night, reduced to blood and broken limbs.
The weak were just weak.
Teachers and sixth-year seniors, trying to stop that monster, were torn apart effortlessly.
Fleeing classmates were pinned to the ground by tentacles.
Even Yoshida-senpai who dragged his sobbing, nearly pants-wetting self to safety, was drained to a husk.
Captain Sumeshi, arriving to help, was left crippled.
Only he, the coward protected by others, survived like a spineless fool, returning to this school.
These days, Shinji replayed that nightmare endlessly, day or night.
'If I hadn't been such an idiot, basking in the genius label, but trained harder, maybe even achieved Shikai…'
'Would Yoshida-senpai and Captain Sumeshi have been spared?'
His bangs shadowed a heavier expression, his interlocked fingers clenched tight, oblivious to time passing.
As he wallowed in self-blame for the umpteenth time, a small hand reached out beside him.
Above the child's palm, a faint glow coalesced into a butterfly, gently flapping its wings, circling with a trail of shimmering light.
It caught his eye effortlessly.
Shinji frowned, glancing at the hand, then up at the peer who'd approached unnoticed. "What's up?"
His voice was low.
Sōsuke let the glow dissipate, tilting his head with a smile as warm as sunlight, confidently extending his hand. "Hi, I'm Sōsuke Aizen."
"Your name's Shinji Hirako, right?"
"Can I be your friend?"
Shinji stared coldly, his youthful face etched with a gloom far beyond his years.
He studied Sōsuke for a long moment, his eyes reflecting the ghost of a carefree, cowardly boy who once played in class.
After a tense pause, he spoke softly. "Sorry."
"Guys like you…"
"I can't stand."
Sōsuke's confident smile froze.
"Huh?"
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
***
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