"Sōsuke, you go first. I'll follow behind."
"Sōsuke, am I blocking your view of the blackboard? If I am, just tell me—don't hold back!"
"Sōsuke, you get your food first. I'll wait until you're done!"
Aizen: "..."
Watching Satoru standing by the cafeteria window, smiling as if bathed in holy light, Aizen couldn't help but frown.
Though he was used to Satoru's eccentricities, this level of absurdity was rare even for him.
After a few seconds of contemplation, he finally spoke:
"Satoru, if there's anything you need help with, just say it directly."
Satoru laughed heartily. "What kind of nonsense is that? Do I seem like the kind of person who only acts nice when I need a favor?"
"You do."
"..."
After a few seconds of silence, Satoru flashed a smile again.
"Hey hey, Sōsuke, you and I... we're friends, right?"
Aizen gave him a puzzled look but nodded.
He held himself in high regard and rarely acknowledged anyone as a "friend."
Though Satoru often gave him headaches, he was indeed someone Aizen considered a friend.
Even as a joke, he wouldn't casually deny that.
Seeing Aizen nod, Satoru put on a touched expression.
"Great! Since we're friends, Sōsuke, promise me one thing."
"If you ever turn evil in the future, you have to spare me. Don't do anything weird to me."
Aizen shook his head helplessly.
"Satoru, if your brain's acting up, you should visit the Fourth Division."
As he spoke, he finished getting his meal and turned to leave.
Satoru quickly grabbed him. "Wait, wait, don't rush off! Promise me first."
"Fine, fine, I promise."
Without a second thought, Aizen brushed him off and walked away.
Watching Aizen's retreating figure, Satoru smirked.
So what if he awakened Kyōka Suigetsu? So what if he was overwhelmingly strong?
Didn't he still sign an unfair treaty under the tyrannical might of Lord Satoru?
A surge of superiority washed over him.
Having successfully begged for a "get-out-of-death-free" card, Satoru was in high spirits.
Meanwhile, Aizen, seeing Satoru return to his usual carefree self, felt relieved.
At least he wasn't completely stupid. That was good.
...
...
Over the next few days, Satoru continued practicing Ikotsu.
Even if he hadn't yet awakened his Zanpakutō, and even if he did eventually, he didn't want to rely too much on its abilities.
In the world of Shinigami, there were far too many factors that could affect a Zanpakutō.
Who could guarantee there wouldn't be a second sword like Muramasa, capable of turning Zanpakutō against their masters?
During the Thousand-Year Blood War, the Quincy could even steal a Shinigami's Bankai—just thinking about it sent chills down his spine.
Setting aside external threats, Zanpakutō themselves were quite fragile.
If damaged during Bankai, they could never fully recover, permanently losing a portion of their power.
Were these supposed to be weapons for battle or high-maintenance divas?
Satoru hoped his Zanpakutō would be a special ability type, like Aizen's.
In battle, he'd just unleash its ability once before putting it away.
Wouldn't that be perfect?
Between training sessions, he occasionally wandered near the Kuchiki estate.
Though he didn't know how Sōjun was doing, at least the Kuchiki household hadn't hung white mourning banners or held a funeral—meaning he was still alive.
He had considered asking Yoruichi for updates, but she never came looking for him before the weekend tutoring session.
...
...
Following the familiar stone path, Satoru arrived at the First Division's training hall.
As soon as he got there, he noticed someone had beaten him to it.
Three pairs of straw sandals were placed outside the entrance, and faint voices could be heard from inside.
Taking in the scene, Satoru hesitated, deciding to leave and wander around for a bit before returning—just in case he overheard something he shouldn't.
But before he could turn away, Yamamoto's voice boomed from inside.
"What are you standing around out there for? Get in here."
Satoru scratched his head, took off his straw sandals, and slid open the door to enter the dojo.
As soon as he stepped inside, he spotted Yamamoto standing in the center of the hall, leaning on his cane.
Facing him were two "familiar faces."
One had slightly wavy brown hair, wore a straw hat, and was draped in a flamboyant pink robe with two hairpins stuck in his head.
The other had a white ponytail, sharp sword-like brows, and piercing starry eyes, clad in a white captain's haori.
Captain of the 8th Division, Kyōraku Shunsui.
Captain of the 13th Division, Jūshirō Ukitake!
Upon noticing Satoru entering, both of them cast curious glances his way.
Kyōraku tipped his hat and grinned.
"Hey, you must be the genius disciple Old Man Yama just took in?"
"I'm Kyōraku Shunsui—you could say I'm your senior."
Hearing this, Yamamoto shot him a sidelong glance.
Just as the old man was about to say something, Satoru clasped his fists with a loud smack.
"Junior Satoru Mikami, greetings, Senior!!"
Seeing how the young disciple immediately played along without hesitation, Jūshirō was momentarily stunned.
From this little junior, he suddenly recalled quite a few unpleasant memories.
Kyōraku chuckled.
This junior was quite interesting.
He had learned about Yamamoto starting lessons for Satoru from the very beginning.
At the time, he had wanted to see for himself what kind of genius could catch the eye of Old Man Yama, who hadn't taken a disciple in centuries.
Unfortunately, due to the rebel uprisings, he never found the time.
Today's meeting turned out to be a pleasant surprise.
As far as he knew, Old Man Yama hadn't formally accepted Satoru as a disciple—he was merely using the guise of teaching to help him avoid political turmoil.
If it were someone with a thinner skin, they'd probably hesitate or even refuse outright when told to call him "senior."
But this little junior? Right in front of Old Man Yama, he called him "senior" without the slightest hesitation.
He has some of my former charm.
Ukitake smiled and said, "Hello, Sangen-san, nice to meet you."
"I am Jūshirō Ukitake, also a disciple of Yamamoto-sensei. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Satoru clasped his fists again. "Senior Ukitake!!"
Hearing this address, Jūshirō couldn't help but smile and nod repeatedly.
"Ahem!!"
Just as Jūshirō was about to say more, Yamamoto suddenly coughed twice.
He narrowed his eyes slightly:
"Satoru, you haven't forgotten the agreement we made last week, have you?"
As he spoke, an oppressive aura emanated from the old man.
He had already made up his mind to teach Satoru a lesson, to ground him and curb his overambitious tendencies.
If Satoru played dumb or tried to argue his way out, Yamamoto wouldn't hesitate to let the boy experience his teaching methods from centuries ago.
Feeling the pressure radiating from Yamamoto, Kyōraku and Jūshirō instinctively exchanged nervous glances.
Kyōraku looked at Satoru.
This junior of his was truly something. How long had it been since he joined, and he was already capable of provoking Old Man Yama's anger?
Jūshirō swallowed hard.
In certain aspects, this junior seemed even more formidable than Kyōraku…
Under their gazes, Satoru froze for a moment.
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he let out an "Oh."
"Captain-Commander, are you referring to the promise that if I mastered all the basic Hakuda techniques you taught within a week, you'd teach me advanced skills?"
"Well, I probably don't need them anymore."
Hearing this, Yamamoto revealed a "benevolent" smile.
Meanwhile, Jūshirō and Kyōraku both widened their eyes in shock.
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