"A voice, huh?"
"Yes, that's right."
"I kept hearing it—whispering in my ear, repeating its name over and over, telling me to remember it."
Lan Yan hadn't expected things to escalate like this.
But apparently, his Zanpakutō was far too assertive.
After seeing his younger brother—the ever-dramatic King of Flex—manifest a Zanpakutō, his blade had kicked into overdrive.
Not only had it declared its name, it had gone ahead and performed Shikai right in front of him. Just to make sure he got the message.
First, whispered its name.
Then, a live demonstration of how to activate it.
All in a matter of seconds.
"It's really…"
"Formed a Zanpakutō entirely from his own spiritual pressure…"
"And within the same day—no, in the same moment—heard its name and mastered Shikai?!"
Even Ukitake Jūshirō, who thought he'd steeled himself for anything, felt his composure crack. His head swayed slightly, and his vision dimmed for a heartbeat.
When he came back to himself, he inhaled sharply.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd lost control like this.
"Shikai already…?"
"This guy's a monster!"
"His growth rate's insane!"
Shihouin Yoruichi, Urahara Kisuke, and the others turned to Lan Yan with wide eyes, expressions ranging from awe to disbelief.
They had all received Asauchi from a young age and trained rigorously for years.
Even then, it took a long time before they first heard their Zanpakutō's name—let alone achieved Shikai.
But Lan Yan?
Forged his blade.
Then, instantly achieved Shikai.
With spiritual pressure at seven carriages and now a functioning Shikai, he was barely different from a fully-fledged squad captain—aside from lacking training in Zanjutsu, Hakuda, and Bankai.
"Shikai, huh…"
"So that voice was the Zanpakutō…"
"Knowing its name… that's the key."
"What about your name?"
Aizen frowned slightly, unwilling to fall behind. He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind.
Mirror… Flower…
He caught only fragments. The name was incomplete—two syllables and nothing more. No matter how he focused, the rest wouldn't come.
"An incomplete name means an incomplete Shikai…"
"Is it that I'm unworthy to hear it?"
"Or are you unwilling to speak?"
His eyes darkened as disappointment flickered across his face—not at his Zanpakutō, but at himself.
To lag so far behind Lan Yan, to only hear fragments… it was infuriating.
"You've stepped into a higher realm," he muttered.
"I've grown complacent."
But Aizen never lingered in self-pity.
He cut the thought off and made a quiet decision.
Three days.
He would give himself—and his Zanpakutō—three days.
Either he would master Shikai…
Or he would destroy the blade with his own hands.
A Zanpakutō that refused to yield was worthless.
He refused to stay beneath Lan Yan's shadow. If he couldn't learn its name—he would abandon it and forge a new path entirely.
"What about you, Aizen?"
Ukitake finally remembered there was another prodigy standing nearby.
"Forgive me, Professor Ukitake."
"Compared to my brother… I've only managed to hear part of the name. My Shikai is incomplete."
Aizen offered a polite, humble smile.
Since he'd dropped the act of being a mere 'average genius,' he might as well play the role of the humble, once-in-a-century genius instead.
Of course, what "humble" meant was entirely up to his whims.
"You heard it too?"
"No, no—how could I be disappointed?" Ukitake replied quickly.
"You've done extraordinarily well. At your age, I couldn't even see the back of a genius like you!"
Disappointed?
One brother awakened Shikai in an instant.
The other heard the name and partially activated it.
Ukitake could barely contain his joy.
This was the stuff dreams were made of.
"You flatter me, Professor. I don't deserve such praise," Aizen said with a soft bow.
"Don't put too much pressure on yourself."
"Each Zanpakutō is unique. Everyone's journey to Shikai is different."
"I can offer you Zanmeditation techniques to help strengthen your bond. They'll allow you to enter your inner world and communicate directly."
"And once you begin training in the Four Arts, your understanding will grow. You'll hear the rest of its name soon enough."
Seeing how modest and eager Aizen was, Ukitake didn't hold back. He shared techniques typically reserved for nobles—insights into Zen meditation, the dialogue of the soul.
While common among noble families, such methods were priceless for those from Rukongai.
"Thank you."
Aizen's smile deepened.
So this was Zanmeditation—entering one's inner world to converse with the Zanpakutō face-to-face.
Interesting.
He'd go tonight.
And if that blade didn't cooperate… he'd make it talk.
"All right, everyone."
"Now that you've received your Asauchi and understand the relationship between Shikai and your Zanpakutō's name, focus your efforts in that direction."
"Remember—mastering Shikai quickly doesn't determine your future rank as a Soul Reaper."
Ukitake noticed that several students—Kusaka, Komamura, Tōsen—had been visibly deflated by the overwhelming display from the Lan brothers.
So he offered a few well-placed words of encouragement.
After all, even one Sōsuke was enough to make the entire Soul Society feel inadequate.
Now, there were two.
And one Sōsuke was even stronger than the other.
Forget the commoners—even nobles like Yoruichi and Byakuya looked like they were reconsidering their life choices.
"Yes, Professor Ukitake!" the students responded, a little more energized.
"Now then, everyone—this way, please."
"This morning we'll begin with Kidō. This afternoon will be your general education period."
"I'll be showing you how to use Kidō techniques in actual combat against Hollows."
Having finished distributing Asauchi, Ukitake led them all to the training grounds.
Normally, a first Kidō class would take place in a lecture hall, focusing on memorizing incantations.
But Class One was different.
Every student here had the potential to become a captain.
Even those from Rukongai—with no training whatsoever—possessed the power, talent, and perception to cast low-level spells without chanting, as long as they understood the core principles of Kidō.
As a seasoned captain with over a century of teaching experience, Ukitake knew better than anyone:
Teach according to aptitude.