Chapter 6 – Aizen
"…"
Byakuya Kuchiki fell silent.
Tachibana Kyūjō's response had left him completely speechless.
"Well, forget I said anything," Kyūjō chuckled, patting Byakuya's shoulder casually. "But seriously, Byakuya… you actually look kinda cool in that Shinigami uniform."
With a smirk, he threw an arm around Byakuya's shoulder and walked forward, leading the way.
— — —
"Kaidō, huh? Now that's an interesting choice…"
From the shadows of a nearby corridor, Retsu Unohana—who had been silently observing the two—vanished without a sound.
Kyūjō smiled faintly, barely noticeable at the corner of his lips.
You heard that, didn't you, Unohana-san?
I said it for your ears, after all…
All his earlier words weren't actually meant for Byakuya. They were meant for the Captain of the Fourth Division who had been eavesdropping nearby.
Of all the Gotei 13 divisions, only the Fourth Division—the one responsible for medical support and healing—had never once extended an official invitation to him.
Every other division had.
Sure, he could've applied himself, knocked on their doors and asked to join.
But then, any position he earned would be seen as something he chased after… not something earned by merit.
And if he were to join the Fourth Division, it had to be on his terms—at the very least a seat officer, not some low-ranking medic doing grunt work.
If he was going to serve in the lowest position of the lowest squad… wasn't that just plain depressing?
Apparently, the message had been received loud and clear.
The very next day, the current Lieutenant of the Fourth Division—Seinosuke Yamada—paid a personal visit to Kyūjō's small residence at Shin'ō Academy.
— — —
Clad in a plain Shinigami uniform without any additional insignia, Seinosuke looked almost indistinguishable from an ordinary soul reaper.
"Nice to meet you, Kyūjō-kun. I'm Seinosuke Yamada, Second Seat of the Fourth Division. I came here today to ask: once you graduate from the Academy, would you be interested in joining our division?"
As he listened, Kyūjō silently scanned through what he knew of the man in front of him.
Seinosuke Yamada—Lieutenant of the Fourth Division, known for his unwavering respect toward Captain Retsu Unohana.
In terms of Kaidō—spiritual healing arts—he was said to be second only to Unohana herself.
He was the type who would do anything to save a patient, no matter how unorthodox the method.
Decades from now, this man would be transferred by Central 46 to the prestigious Shino Reiyakuin, the medical institute of the noble class. He'd become its head healer.
Later on, he'd even collaborate with the Tsunayashiro Clan and become involved in the creation of Hikogune Ubuginu.
— — —
"Lieutenant Seinosuke," Kyūjō began with calm sincerity, "to tell you the truth… I hate fighting. I despise killing. Kaidō is the one and only art I truly love."
"The Fourth Division has always been my top choice… but…"
He paused, letting the silence carry his weight.
"…Divisions One, Three, Five, Six, Nine, Ten, and Eleven have all officially invited me already. And their offers… are pretty generous."
"In fact, Division Six is willing to appoint me as their Vice-Captain if I join. Tempting, isn't it?"
Kyūjō's gaze sharpened just slightly.
"So, Lieutenant Seinosuke… what exactly is the Fourth Division offering me?"
The question clearly didn't sit well with Seinosuke.
His brows furrowed sharply—almost forming the kanji for "river" (川) on his forehead.
Vice-Captain?
Was this boy really asking to jump straight to the number two spot?
And what—I'm supposed to step down for him?
He was growing irritated. But recalling that this recruitment was a direct request from Captain Unohana herself, he bit back the frustration.
Eventually, he replied in a firm but even tone.
"Tachibana Kyūjō. The Fourth Division is unlike the others who only seek battle strength."
"We are medics. Rescuers. Healers."
"That's why, for us, the most important trait isn't combat prowess—but one's understanding and mastery of Kaidō!"
"Now tell me… do you truly believe your Kaidō skills are worthy of a seated officer position in our division?"
Kyūjō didn't respond.
He merely smiled—then slowly raised his right hand and chanted softly,
"To cut the boundary between life and death with a healing blade… To dispel suffering with the light of Kaidō—Palm Immortal Blade Art."
A soft green glow began to envelop his palm.
Without hesitation, Kyūjō stabbed his glowing hand into his own abdomen—then calmly pulled it back.
"Lieutenant Seinosuke. Take a look."
He held up two fingers—pinching a single, tiny white grain.
"What is that?" Seinosuke squinted.
"…It's the grain of rice I ate during lunch," Kyūjō answered with a straight face.
"W-What?!" Seinosuke jumped to examine him closely.
Kyūjō's uniform was spotless. His abdomen showed no injury.
He replayed the scene in his mind and then locked eyes with Kyūjō again, his expression serious now.
"That was inside your stomach?! How… how did you extract it without damaging any tissue?"
Kyūjō simply smiled again.
"Well? Is my Kaidō technique—Palm Immortal Blade Art—enough to earn a respectable position in your division?"
Seinosuke was stunned. A self-developed Kaidō technique?
He mulled over the implications.
Just from that brief demonstration, he could already envision countless applications in the medical field.
He looked at Kyūjō with admiration.
This boy… might really be a genius in Kaidō.
Since Kirinji Tenjirō—the founder of Kaidō—ascended to the Royal Guard, there hadn't been any real innovation in Soul Society's healing arts.
But now, standing before him was someone who could break that stagnation.
If it turned out to be a hoax, they'd find out soon enough. But… Seinosuke's instincts told him otherwise.
"Tachibana Kyūjō… Forgive me for underestimating you earlier. The Fourth Division truly is where you belong."
"If you agree to join us, I'll immediately recommend you for the position of Third Seat."
"And… if after a year, you can prove capable of handling my responsibilities, I will gladly resign and hand over the Vice-Captain position to you myself."
Of course, Seinosuke had his own motives.
As a fellow Kaidō user, he was dying to study Kyūjō's Palm Immortal Blade Art firsthand.
If Kyūjō became his superior, learning directly from him wouldn't seem odd at all.
But Kyūjō only shook his head gently, smiling again.
"There's no need to go that far, Lieutenant Seinosuke. To be honest, I'm not even sure I'm qualified to handle the duties of Third Seat."
Before he could finish, Seinosuke quickly interrupted.
"Ah, Kyūjō-kun! Don't say that!"
"In my opinion, no one is more suited for the Third Seat than you! Don't hesitate, okay? I'll report back to Captain Unohana immediately!"
"Just wait for the good news!"
With that, Seinosuke leapt up and hurried off, disappearing down the corridor, leaving Kyūjō standing quietly in the soft breeze of the courtyard.
— — —
Watching Seinosuke Yamada dash away in a flustered rush, Tachibana Kyūjō could only chuckle softly and shake his head.
Truth be told, his so-called Palm Immortal Blade Art wasn't exactly an original creation from scratch.
It was, in fact, a modified version of the Mystical Palm Technique, a high-level Medical Ninjutsu he had learned during his time in the Naruto world. All he had done was rework its structure—adapting it from chakra-based manipulation to the reishi-based system of the Bleach universe.
In treating certain types of wounds, it was indeed highly effective.
As for that long-winded chant he recited earlier? Pure nonsense. A deliberate fabrication to make the technique sound more mystical and difficult to replicate.
In reality, the skill required no incantation whatsoever.
If you had the right control and knowledge, you could simply use it directly. If you didn't, no matter how passionately you recited a mantra, it wouldn't work.
Whether the members of the Fourth Division would be able to learn the technique? That all depended on their individual talent.
Kyūjō had no problem teaching them if they asked. But whether they could master it was another matter entirely.
— — —
A week later, the day of the Shin'ō Academy Graduation Ceremony finally arrived.
This was also the one and only official recruitment event of the year for fresh graduates—where the divisions of Seireitei sent representatives to scout new talent.
The Academy was buzzing with activity. Nobles from across Seireitei had gathered, mingling with the upper brass of the Gotei 13, elite members of the Kidō Corps, and even several Captains themselves, all here to personally observe and recruit promising graduates.
But all that energy, all that excitement… vanished in an instant the moment a pressure like a blazing sun swept through the venue.
The entire crowd fell silent.
Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, Captain Commander of the Gotei 13, had arrived.
As the top graduate of this year's class, Tachibana Kyūjō was respectfully invited onstage to deliver the graduation speech on behalf of his peers.
The Academy's directors and senior instructors sat proudly, practically beaming—eager to showcase their brightest student in front of the giants of Seireitei.
Kyūjō, standing beneath the focused gaze of so many powerful figures, remained perfectly calm.
After all, he had once stood before entire auditoriums in his previous life on Earth. This was nothing.
He hadn't prepared a script.
He didn't need one.
And so, he launched into a powerful, heartfelt… and incredibly long speech.
— — —
"Respected teachers, fellow students—good day. Today, I stand before you representing all graduates of the Shin'ō Academy, to express our deepest gratitude to our beloved alma mater, our heartfelt thanks to our teachers, and warm farewells to the companions we've trained beside…"
"Time flies so quickly. Six years have passed since we walked through these gates. And today, that chapter comes to an end. As we step forward into new paths, allow me to say a few words to the friends and mentors who shaped us…"
"To our beloved instructors, you have taught us…"
— — —
Kyūjō's speech stretched on and on—two hours long and still not finished.
The crowd of nobles and Gotei Captains began to waver.
Not with awe.
With exhaustion.
Some tried to stay awake. Others… simply gave up.
Yes, many actually fell asleep.
Even Captain Commander Yamamoto, seated at the center of it all, began to show visible signs of irritation.
His frown deepened.
Still, protocol was protocol. He couldn't interrupt a formal graduation address.
So instead, he leaned toward his right-hand man, Sasakibe Chōjirō, and muttered with clear displeasure,
"That long-winded brat on the stage… Is he the one you said was this year's top graduate? Tachibana Kyūjō?"
Chōjirō nodded stiffly. "Yes, Captain Commander. Shall I ask the Academy to pull him down?"
Yamamoto grumbled darkly, "No… Let him finish. It shouldn't take much longer."
But half an hour later, Kyūjō was still going strong.
Still praising. Still recounting. Still delivering an unbroken stream of flowery, honorific-laced nonsense.
Yamamoto's face had darkened to stormy levels.
He was visibly restraining himself from drawing Ryūjin Jakka and ending the speech—and the speaker—right then and there.
In a voice as calm as a thundercloud, he turned to Sasakibe again.
"I don't want that boy in Division One."
Sasakibe: "…"
— — —
Kyūjō's speech, though admittedly pointless, had one redeeming quality:
It was packed—overflowing, in fact—with heartfelt praise for the Academy.
And what principal wouldn't be moved by that?
Down below the stage, the headmasters and school directors looked like proud parents, smiling ear to ear as they soaked up every word like sunlight. They couldn't be happier.
Among the crowd, only one other person remained actively listening—not because of the flattery, but because of something else entirely:
Sōsuke Aizen, seated elegantly among the Division Five delegation, wearing his usual polite smile.
He had come today to represent his squad in recruitment.
— — —
On stage, Kyūjō's eyes remained half-lidded and calm.
He had heard the voice of Yamamoto earlier. The suppressed fury behind it.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
Oh yes… he was doing this on purpose.
He knew full well he wasn't strong enough yet to take on Yamamoto.
But annoying the old man like this?
It was strangely satisfying.
You could even say… he was itching for trouble.
But behind the veil of nonsense, Kyūjō was using the enhanced perception of his Zanpakutō—Infinity Perception—to study every Captain in attendance.
Not just their appearances.
Their spiritual rhythms, battle signatures, subconscious emotional fluctuations, minute aura shifts…
Everything.
And most importantly—Sōsuke Aizen.
This moment, this day, was a rare chance to scan Seireitei's top brass in one place.
And Kyūjō didn't waste a second.
By the time he finally ended his speech and stepped down from the stage, he had already memorized the full names, spiritual frequencies, and Zanpakutō abilities of nearly all the seated officers present.
Any longer, and Ryūjin Jakka might've taken his head off.
As his feet touched the ground again, he noticed Aizen's expression shift.
Just slightly.
Behind those glasses, a glint of interest flashed in the man's eyes.
"This boy…" Aizen whispered softly, "is quite fascinating."
For a moment, he seriously considered recruiting Kyūjō into Division Five.
With a subtle motion, Aizen adjusted his glasses.
Yes… someone like him… could prove very useful indeed.
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