The air around the Shin'ō Academy was buzzing with a mixture of relief, excitement, and nostalgia. After six grueling years of combat, kido, stealth, and spiritual training, tomorrow marked the end of the students' journey as cadets and the beginning of their careers as full-fledged Shinigami.
Shinji, ever the prankster, couldn't help himself. He had set up a small string of traps for old man Sakazuki – nothing dangerous, just enough to trip his ego. A spilled ink bottle on his desk, a hollow dummy hiding in the closet, and one particularly well-placed whoopee cushion. When Sakazuki snapped and started chasing him across the academy grounds, Shinji's howling laughter echoed behind him as he barely kept ahead of the old warrior for a full 30 minutes.
Not far from the chaos, Love leaned back under the wide shade of a sakura tree, letting the petals fall gently around him. His eyes were half closed, humming a tune to himself, soaking in the calm. "Tomorrow, huh," he muttered, "Guess we're really done." He wasn't nervous — just letting the breeze carry away the weight of six long years.
Rose, always the aesthetic perfectionist, was obsessing over his appearance. Standing in front of a mirror shard, he tried different hairstyles — slicked back, parted, tied — then undid them with an annoyed sigh. "Graduation only comes once," he muttered, brushing through his hair again, "Might as well look like I belong on a stage."
Arthur, on the other hand, was anything but subtle about how he felt. He walked right up to Sakazuki-sensei, eyes burning with passion. "One last duel, old man." Sakazuki raised an eyebrow. "Still think you can beat me?"
Arthur grinned. "Not think. Know."
Ten minutes later, he was lying face-first on the ground, groaning.
Sakazuki just walked away, muttering, "Still too wild."
Arthur laughed despite the pain. "Still worth it."
Away from everyone else, Mohit stood silently in the abandoned training ground — the very place he had sacrificed his sight four years ago. He could still feel the cool metal of the knife in his hand, the sting of pain, and the weight of the choice he made that night. He reached down and brushed the ground with his fingers.
He couldn't see anymore, but he felt everything.
The steady hum of spirit energy in the air.
The quiet thrum of the earth under his feet.
The whisper of wind past the old wooden posts.
And the faint echo of his Zanpakutō spirit whispering in the silence.
Unlocking his shikai a year ago hadn't come through a burst of power, but through deep understanding — of loss, of awareness, of focus. Though Arthur still held the title of strongest in raw power, Mohit had earned the second spot through sheer discipline, clarity, and relentless work.
As he stood there, arms at his side, the sound of footsteps approached behind him.
"You gonna stand here all night?" It was Shinji. "Or come mess around with us for once?"
Mohit turned slightly, a calm smile on his lips. "Just thinking about how far we've come."
Shinji grinned. "Yeah. Pretty damn far."The grand courtyard of the Shin'ō Academy was transformed into a ceremonial stage. The central platform, surrounded by the school's blooming sakura trees, was draped in the colors of the Gotei 13 — each banner fluttering with pride in the afternoon breeze. Rows of students stood in their finest academy uniforms, polished and tense, hearts pounding in anticipation.
On a high dais stood the captains of the Gotei 13, flanked by academy instructors and the headmaster, Ryosei. The gravity in the air was heavy. Every cadet knew: the selections today would determine their future in the Soul Society.