Time passed swiftly. In the blink of an eye, a full year had gone by.
Over that year, Ichirō had grown inseparable from Urahara and Yoruichi — they were now true comrades-in-arms. The pair even revealed to him the existence of their secret underground base, while Ichirō, in return, confessed the truth of his alchemy… or rather, a version of it.
He told them it was a mysterious ability brought from the Human World, deliberately describing it in terms resembling Fullbring. Urahara, intrigued but unsuspecting, accepted the explanation without question.
Of course, Ichirō never mentioned his ability to craft spirit food that could directly increase spiritual pressure. That was too dangerous — a secret destined to remain buried forever.
When it came to social life, however, that was the extent of Ichirō's connections.
Unlike him, most of the other students — despite being decades or even centuries old — showed surprisingly little emotional maturity. Ichirō himself felt the same stagnation beginning to creep in, but his experiences across worlds had tempered his mind long ago. The result was a subtle, but unbridgeable gap. His relationships with others never went beyond casual classmates.
In terms of ability, Ichirō had made astonishing progress.
Within a year, he had mastered nearly all the first-to-third-year curriculum at the Shin'ō Spiritual Arts Academy, excluding Zanjutsu.
With the help of his alchemically enhanced spirit food, his spiritual pressure had risen to the level of an average seated officer.
The only disappointment was his lack of talent with the sword.
Though he loved Zanjutsu, he had made almost no progress — his swordsmanship was barely above a beginner's. This likely explained why his Zanpakutō had yet to show any signs of awakening.
By contrast, Ichirō's gift for Kidō was extraordinary.
He had mastered every spell below number 30, all of which he could cast without incantation, and he had self-studied spells above number 10 entirely on his own.
That last part nearly gave Urahara a heart attack.
Self-taught Kidō — and up to thirty-level spells, no less? He and Yoruichi had only advanced that quickly thanks to private tutors in their noble households. If Ichirō could do this alone, what would happen once he formally advanced?
Level 50 Kidō would be within reach!
Ichirō's presence had already begun subtly altering the timeline.
Thanks to his influence, Urahara's own Kidō mastery had grown stronger than in the original history — not as monstrous as Ichirō's, but formidable nonetheless. He now handled all Kidō below #30 and could cast those under #20 without chanting.
However, in swordsmanship, Urahara left him far behind.
He had achieved his Shikai and, thanks to one of Ichirō's "accidental" hints, was already researching a simplified method for attaining Bankai, years ahead of schedule.
As for overall progress, their growth remained comparable — both had entered the Academy with decent reiryoku, but under Ichirō's spirit food, their spiritual power had skyrocketed.
Yoruichi, naturally, still ranked first among them, her Hakuda and Shunpo already on a captain's level. Urahara came second, and Ichirō third — though all three concealed the extent of their strength.
Few in the Academy truly understood how powerful they were.
And neither Ichirō nor Urahara had any intention of skipping grades.
As for Yoruichi — she was simply tagging along with her two friends.
Graduate early? For what — a few compliments and a life of endless paperwork?
Nothing good came of it. The so-called "rewards" were just early access to resources that would have been yours anyway once you graduated properly.
At Ichirō's persuasion, Urahara fully embraced the idea: they would stay in Shin'ō Academy for the full six years — no matter what.
Free meals, free lodging, flexible class schedules, and teachers willing to answer any question?
What kind of fool would rush to leave that behind?
"Graduate early? What am I, insane?" Ichirō muttered once, perfectly summing it up.
---
The next morning, in their dorm room, Ichirō winced as he rubbed his temples and dragged himself off the floor.
"Hiss… ow… Urahara, what time is it?"
They had celebrated the end of their class exams the night before — a massive farewell party for the now-reshuffled student groups.
It had gone on until dawn.
"How should I know?" Urahara groaned, half-buried in his sheets. "Ugh… my head… Relax, it's fine. Today's still a break day. Classes start tomorrow…"
Unlike ordinary schools, Shin'ō Academy had no long holidays — just a day or two between terms for rest before classes resumed.
It was less of a school and more like a military academy — only with laxer rules.
"What if we oversleep?" Ichirō mumbled, flinging a pillow across the room. "Come on, use that Kidō you developed to tell the time!"
Thump.
A pause. Then, muffled under the pillow, Urahara muttered, "That spell isn't meant to be used like that…"
Still, he lazily raised a hand and cast it anyway.
A faint blue glow shimmered in the room.
"Tomorrow morning…" he murmured before collapsing back into sleep.
"Good enough…" Ichirō sighed in relief, then immediately face-planted back into his blankets.
Tomorrow would mark the start of their second year — and more importantly, their first real-world mission: Soul Burial training in the Human World.
From the second year onward, students were required to perform Soul Burials in the living world as part of field training.
Second- and third-years would handle purification duties, their missions differing only by the level of spirit energy in the assigned area — meaning the likelihood of encountering Hollows.
Fourth-years and above would begin Hollow Extermination training.
What fascinated Ichirō most was the Soul Burial training itself.
It would be his first chance to step into the real world — and to test whether his alchemy still worked there.
In theory, it should.
The World of the Living wasn't composed of reishi; its matter was nearly identical to that of his previous world.
If his old transmutation arrays functioned there, it could open an entirely new chapter in his research.
BAM!
The dormitory door flew open.
"You two—how long do you plan to SLEEP?!" Yoruichi's furious voice filled the room.
Urahara groaned. "Haa… it's not like we have class today… five more minutes…"
"Yeah… school starts tomorrow… no rush…"
Without a word, Yoruichi inhaled deeply, raised her right hand, and began chanting in a calm, deadly tone:
"Ye lord! Mask of flesh and bone, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man—
Inferno and pandemonium—"
"Wait, WAIT—!" Ichirō and Urahara shouted in unison, instantly awake. Without even thinking, they dove through the window.
"The sea barrier surges, march on to the south! Hadō #31: Shakkahō (Red Fire Cannon)!"
BOOOOM!!!
"Hey! We could've died if we were a second slower!" Ichirō yelled.
"Yeah, and if the dorm's damaged, we'll have to pay for it!" Urahara added.
Yoruichi smirked. "Relax. I've got money. Now hurry up — we've got another gathering today."
Ichirō blinked. "Another one? With who?"
"New classmates," she replied. "Since we'll likely be together for the next five years, someone suggested a welcome get-together."
"Tch, what's the point of that?" Ichirō muttered.
Urahara glanced over slyly. "If it's pointless, then why are you already dressed?"
"…You're one to talk," Ichirō shot back.
"I never said I wasn't going!"
"Alright, you two," Yoruichi interrupted, exasperated. "Move it."
"Ohhh~" the two chorused as they trudged after her.
And so began another year —
thanks to some careful exam manipulation and just a bit of help from the Shihōin clan,
the three of them once again found themselves in the same class.
Class 3.
A number that, for Ichirō… was starting to feel oddly fated.