For three whole days, Sōsuke couldn't figure out what he'd done to offend that guy.
Or why they harbored such intense hostility toward him.
Seated at his desk in the Shin'ō Academy, Sōsuke maintained a perfect posture, eyes fixed on the blackboard ahead, though his mind wandered to entirely unrelated matters.
He hated to admit it, but after hitting this wall, he was starting to grasp why Makoto had tossed him into this so-called "kindergarten." Even the sharpest minds could stumble across things that defied understanding before experiencing them firsthand.
Still, his luck wasn't always rotten.
As Sōsuke's thoughts meandered, a small hand silently reached out from the seat beside him, poking his thigh.
"Psst, psst."
Sōsuke turned toward the gesture and saw a boy, half a head taller and looking about eight or nine in human years, sitting properly at his desk. Yet, under the table, the boy stealthily passed a crumpled note.
Sōsuke's first instinct was suspicion. Did this kid understand everything too? Quite the hidden talent.
But when he unfolded the note, he saw a single scrawled line: I forgot my textbook. Let me share yours.
Sōsuke glanced at the note, then at the book the boy had spread open on his desk, pretending to study. On closer inspection, it was clearly a classic novel with a cover mimicking the textbook's color.
"…"
His expression froze for a moment before softening into a gentle smile. He slid his textbook toward the boy, murmuring, "Let's look at it together, then."
The boy let out a relieved sigh, scooting closer and whispering back, "Man, you're a lifesaver. I had no idea what I'd do otherwise. Oh, by the way, I'm Yamada Seinosuke. Just call me by my name."
Hearing this, Sōsuke relaxed a bit too. It seemed not everyone was as unreasonable as that blonde with the bob cut earlier. He'd just had a stroke of bad luck.
"I'm Sōsuke Aizen. Nice to meet you."
"Here."
No sooner had he spoken than Yamada Seinosuke pulled a small, yellowish chunk from his sleeve, broke it in half, and offered one piece to Sōsuke.
"A thank-you gift." Yamada said with a cheeky grin. "Homemade malt candy. Took a lot of effort to make."
"Hm?" Sōsuke blinked, accepting the piece. "That's rare. Thanks."
"Right?" Yamada beamed. "I've got a whole jar at home! But it's impossible to sell in Rukongai."
Yamada looked proud, and while the teacher's back was turned, he popped his half of the candy into his mouth, savoring it slowly.
Sōsuke understood why. In the Soul Society, those with reiatsu, like them, who needed food to sustain their spiritual bodies were rare. Most souls, the "Pluses." could survive on water alone. Some even lost their human senses, clinging to faint memories of life before fading away to reincarnation.
That's why farming or crafting in Rukongai was a thankless task. Only the more orderly, lower-numbered districts had any commercial demand, and even that revolved around the Seireitei and the Shinigami's economic system.
Sōsuke watched Yamada's eyes squint with delight from the candy's sweetness.
Well, not everyone's a weirdo, he thought. And there are folks like him, stubborn enough to take on thankless work.
With that, he broke off a small piece of the malt candy. It was sweet, sticky, and hard to swallow.
As he struggled to chew, the teacher's gaze suddenly swept their way. Sōsuke's eyes narrowed, and with lightning speed, he poked Yamada's side, slid the textbook closer to him, and bowed his head over the book, hiding his chewing.
Yamada flinched at the poke, turning toward Sōsuke. Seeing the textbook, he caught on and flashed a friendly smile.
Unfortunately, Yamada didn't notice his puffed-out cheek, betraying him the moment he turned.
"Yamada Seinosuke, what's in your mouth?!" The teacher barked, raising a disciplinary rod.
"Spit it out!"
"N-nuffin's in my mouf!" Yamada yelped, startled, unable to swallow the sticky candy. His words came out garbled, his back teeth glued together.
The classroom erupted in laughter.
In contrast, the young Shinigami teacher at the podium stood stone-faced.
"Out." He ordered. "Stand in the hallway!"
Yamada looked thunderstruck, glancing at Sōsuke for help. But Sōsuke, ever composed, had no intention of getting caught alongside him, maintaining his serious demeanor.
That's your fate, Seinosuke.
The teacher, however, wasn't done. He pointed at Sōsuke. "And you, Sōsuke! You two were whispering, weren't you? Out with you!"
Yamada, who'd looked dejected moments ago, suddenly perked up with a grin.
But Sōsuke remained calm, his voice clear. "What are you talking about, Sawagoe-sensei? I was only lending Yamada my textbook since he forgot his."
In the brief moment, he'd managed to swallow the candy.
"Is that so?" Sawagoe frowned, turning a harsher gaze on Yamada. "You, stand in the hallway with a chair over your head!"
Yamada's eyes widened. He looked at the teacher, then at Sōsuke, as if wanting to protest but saying nothing. Defeated, he slunk out of the classroom.
Why do I feel like I've been played? he thought.
As he passed the front seats, he heard Shinji let out a cold scoff. Yamada shot the blonde with the bob cut an irritated glare, hoisted the chair, and stormed out.
At the doorway, still fuming, he poked his head back in and stuck out his tongue at Sawagoe. "Bleh!"
"You brat!" Sawagoe grabbed his rod and charged.
Yamada dropped the chair and bolted.
Shinji, still seated, cast a dark glance toward the door. One after another, all clueless idiots who don't know how cruel the world is.
The false sense of peace surrounding him fueled his frustration, urging him to lash out.
The classroom's laughter lingered, sporadic but persistent. In the Shin'ō Academy's intense, cloistered environment, with its packed curriculum, moments like these were rare entertainment.
Sōsuke tilted his head, observing his softly chuckling classmates, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. Even after some time, he couldn't make sense of it.
Before meeting Makoto, he might've dismissed this as the gap between "the talented" and "ordinary fools." brushing it off with a smirk. But Makoto's words had left him uncertain.
What exactly does that guy want me to understand? Sōsuke wondered.
Just then...
Thud!
The blonde with the bob cut in the front row stood, kicking over the desk. Books and stationery scattered across the floor with a clatter, sharp and loud.
Shinji stood at the front, turning to glare at the class, his voice rising sharply. "Shut up, you noisy peace idiots!"
The room fell silent.
Even Sōsuke looked at the blonde, startled, though a spark of interest lit his eyes.
Before anyone could react, Shinji grabbed the well-maintained Asauchi at his waist and strode out.
Two or three seconds passed before the students realized they'd been insulted, their grumbling protests rising. But they couldn't quite grasp why he was so angry.
Though Sawagoe was just a low-ranking officer in the Gotei 13, handling fresh academy students was child's play. Within moments, he'd dragged the two truants back, bound them with Bakudō, and hung them at the classroom door for the entire lesson.
They were furious.
Yet, even suspended at the entrance, Shinji remained defiant. "These guys don't get it." He muttered. "They've no idea what kind of enemies they'll face as Shinigami."
Until the next class, a Zanjutsu lesson, Shinji lingered in the corner, clutching his Asauchi as if guarding a precious treasure. He watched his classmates begin their sparring, muttering to himself under his breath.
If it was that monster from that night…
A single tentacle could tear everyone here to shreds.
"Tch."
"So, you get it, huh?"
Yamada Seinosuke, standing nearby, scoffed with a childish jab. Who could blame him after that guy's earlier sneer?
Shinji ignored him, his gaze fixed on Sawagoe-sensei, who approached from the dojo's entrance.
"Why's it this guy again? Where's Kono-sensei?"
Yamada Seinosuke's voice rose with a groan, a sinking feeling creeping into his chest.
Sōsuke, as if anticipating the scene, glanced at the two with keen interest.
Sure enough.
Sawagoe, gripping a bamboo sword, stopped before the class. His eyes locked onto Shinji and Yamada Seinosuke with a menacing glint.
"Kono-sensei is on leave today, so I'm substituting." He announced. Then, with a turn of his head and a chilling smile, he added, "Yamada, Shinji! You're ready for this, I presume?"
"What?!" Yamada's voice stretched in protest. "Last class is over and done with!"
"You used Bakudō on us, didn't you?"
"What are you talking about?" Sawagoe's smile remained gentle, but his tone turned sharp. "This is special training."
He turned to the class, barking, "Everyone else, pair up and spar! Yamada and Shinji, you two are with me."
"I can handle it alone." Shinji cut in, stepping forward with a scowl, as if the whole world owed him a debt.
"You…" Yamada muttered.
Unlike the other students, Sawagoe, though a substitute, knew Shinji was one of the few survivors of the recent Academy incident. The trauma of that bloody event had clearly left deep scars.
Seeing Shinji's demeanor, Sawagoe hesitated, unsure how to proceed.
But in his blind spot, Sōsuke seemed to realize something and snapped his fingers softly.
Sawagoe's expression froze, his gaze hardening with a sudden coldness. "If you're so confident, you must be ready to take a beating, right?"
Shinji said nothing, grabbing a bamboo sword from the weapon rack. His young face set in grim determination, he faced Sawagoe.
The surrounding students glanced their way, halfheartedly sparring as they watched the drama unfold.
If I didn't have that resolve, I wouldn't have come back to this wretched place, Shinji thought, familiar shadows flickering in his mind.
His grip tightened on the bamboo sword.
"Hah!"
His small frame shot forward like a bolt of lightning, power surging through his steps.
The other first-year students gasped. Among them, Shinji's speed was astonishing.
But to a full-fledged Shinigami like Sawagoe, once the 14th seat of the 3rd Division, that level was merely passable.
Crack!
A single strike, and the bamboo swords clashed with a sound like a firecracker. Shinji's arm trembled, faintly numb from the impact.
The overwhelming Reiatsu radiating from Sawagoe made him feel as if he could barely breathe.
This strength! This Reiatsu!
Was this the level of a true Shinigami?
Sawagoe tilted his bamboo sword, redirecting the force with a swift, diagonal slash, blindingly fast.
Shinji's heart clenched. His nearly year-long edge in Zanjutsu training over his peers kicked in, and he instinctively angled his sword to parry, sticking to Sawagoe's blade.
But the sheer force made his wrist ache, slowing his grip by a fraction.
Crack!
The bamboo sword struck Shinji's ribs, the pain nearly stealing his breath.
"Is that all you've got, after all that big talk?" Sawagoe's voice was icy, his sword unrelenting as it swung toward Shinji again.
His ruthless precision was as if he faced a true enemy.
Shinji froze from the pain but, spurred by Sawagoe's words, rolled across the ground, twisting to swing his sword with gritted teeth, aiming for Sawagoe's head.
"Hah!"
But no matter his resolve, it couldn't change reality.
Sawagoe sidestepped effortlessly, dodging Shinji's desperate strike.
His bamboo sword arced downward, striking Shinji's head with a sharp crack.
"Face!"
Shinji collapsed with a thud.
Yamada Seinosuke gaped, tongue-tied. Sure, they'd ticked off Sawagoe last class, but wasn't this a bit too harsh?
Was he next for such a brutal beating?
He wasn't alone in his shock. Even the students pretending to spar winced at the sight. They were just first-years, did it have to be this intense?
As Yamada fretted, a small figure brushed past him, stepping forward.
"Huh?"
"Sōsuke!"
Sawagoe looked down calmly at the student before him, still holding his sword raised, his tone cold. "What, Shinji? All that talk, and this is your limit? Get up."
Shinji, still clutching his bamboo sword, ignored the crushing Reiatsu pressing down on him. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up.
But Sawagoe's words sent a tremor through him. A surge of anger flooded his mind, his voice rising as he swung his sword wildly forward.
"Hah!"
Yet, the feeble strike was easily deflected by Sawagoe's casual tilt.
Raising his bamboo sword high, Sawagoe's Reiatsu peaked, freezing Shinji in place, his body rigid.
The students stopped, eyes locked on the spar.
With a whistle, the bamboo sword swept down.
Crack!
A sharp sound rang out.
Shinji's gaze froze.
Sawagoe blinked, startled, as if waking from a trance, staring at the scene before him.
Sōsuke had stepped in front of Shinji, his small hand raised, effortlessly catching the descending bamboo sword.
Whoosh!
A blazing white shockwave erupted, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them, the wind rustling the students' clothes.
Sōsuke stood firm.
Having blocked such a strike, he seemed unfazed, his gentle smile unchanged.
"Sawagoe-sensei." He said softly, "how about we call it a day?"
***
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
***
If you want to read up to 50 chapters ahead, don't hesitate to visit our patron: pat reon . com / XElenea (removespace)