"What's wrong, Vice-Captain Ichimaru?"
Jūshirō Saitō asked.
"Nothing at all."
Gin Ichimaru curled his right hand slightly, slipping the withered yellow leaf into the wide sleeve of his robe. Then he turned back to Saitō with his usual fox-like smile.
"Saitō-sensei, do you remember? When I first enrolled, you even taught me Kidō."
"Vice-Captain Ichimaru, forgive my bluntness…"
Saitō shook his head.
During his years of teaching, he had mentored thousands of students. Long ago, he had stopped remembering every single name.
Even if that student had once been a prodigy like Ichimaru Gin—
someone who had graduated from the Shin'ō Academy in just a single year.
But to Saitō, students like Gin had appeared as frequently as fish in a river.
True brilliance that lasted into the future, however… was far rarer.
Most so-called geniuses relied too heavily on their extraordinary spiritual power and natural talent. During their academy days they neglected the fundamental training of Zan, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō.
Once they joined the Gotei 13, those very strengths often became their greatest weaknesses.
And when facing Hollows or enemy forces in real combat…
Those geniuses often ended up with the highest casualty rates.
Because of this, Saitō had never been particularly impressed by prodigies.
Instead, he had always favored hardworking late bloomers like Fūjin Taichi.
From the very first day of the entrance examination, Saitō had sensed something unusual about that boy. Since then, he had quietly kept an eye on him.
"Oh? What a shame…"
Ichimaru shrugged lightly and began turning away.
But suddenly—
His narrow eyes opened a thin sliver.
That person is…
His gaze swept across the crowd and landed on a boy walking against the flow of people, heading back toward the dojo.
It was Fūjin Taichi.
A faint, meaningful glimmer flashed across Gin's pale blue eyes.
"Vice-Captain Ichimaru! The meeting has already begun. Please come this way."
Saitō seemed to notice that Gin's attention had fallen on the student he valued most. Without drawing attention, he subtly shifted his position—blocking Gin's line of sight.
"Of course, Saitō-sensei."
Gin's eyes narrowed into crescents once more.
He followed Saitō toward the auditorium of Shin'ō Academy, while the boy named Fūjin Taichi had already disappeared into the vast sea of students.
...
Later That Night
Heavenly No-Mind One-Sword Style — Tiger Pounce!"
After leaving the plaza, Taichi had returned alone to Dojo No. 34, training until sweat poured down his body.
His wooden sword flashed again and again, cutting through the air as his emotions rose and fell with each strike.
Smack!
With a final blow against his imaginary opponent, Taichi collapsed onto the floor.
His Asauchi had long since been tossed aside. He lay there breathing heavily, chest rising and falling.
Night had already fallen.
The moon hung low in the sky, stars scattered across the darkness. A cool evening breeze brushed the sweat along Taichi's temples.
Another day gone.
Time really does fly…
After resting for a while, Taichi slowly calmed his breathing. He looked out at the starry sky beyond the dojo and let out a bitter smile.
Then he sprang back to his feet, grabbed a bucket and cloth, and began cleaning the dojo.
When he finished, he blew out the oil lamp.
The vast interior of Dojo No. 34 instantly plunged into darkness—so dark he could barely see his own hand.
But Taichi was long accustomed to loneliness… and to the night.
He tucked his Asauchi back into his belt, stepped outside beneath the starlight, and followed the stone path until he reached the small Mirror Lake at the end.
In the dead of night, aside from the occasional whisper of wind and rustle of branches, the surroundings were deathly silent—the perfect time for Jinzen practice.
Taichi sat cross-legged by the lake, breathing in the faint fragrance of cherry blossoms drifting from the trees along the shore.
He closed his eyes.
Slowly regulating his breathing.
Relaxing his body.
Emptying his mind.
Gradually, he tried to reach a state of calm emptiness.
Tap… tap…
Tap… tap…
Suddenly, faint footsteps shattered the quiet.
Taichi frowned and turned around.
A young Shinigami wearing the academy's white-and-blue uniform approached from the path.
A tuft of golden hair stood out atop his head.
It was none other than the student widely recognized as the strongest of their generation—
Fujiwara Tatsuma.
"Taichi, I didn't expect this… After three months, you've changed quite a bit."
Fujiwara walked up beside him, his star-like eyes studying Taichi closely.
"I've been wondering… Do they mix some kind of mysterious ingredient into the feed at your Special Advancement Class?"
"Feed your ass!"
Taichi shot back instantly.
"You're the one who looks like you were raised on livestock feed!"
Then he added irritably:
"And I still haven't settled the score for that stunt you pulled during the exam!"
"What score?" Fujiwara laughed, sitting down beside him.
"You seem to be doing pretty well now, don't you?"
He looked out across the lake, where pink cherry blossoms drifted across the autumn water.
Then he asked curiously:
"I heard someone in your class—Hoko, was it?—got adopted by the Kasumiōji Clan."
"Man… that's huge. They're a high-ranking noble house responsible for forging weapons throughout the Soul Society."
"You've got it wrong," Taichi said. "It's not adoption. It's returning to her roots. Hoko was originally a daughter of the Kasumiōji Clan."
"Oh? Is that so?"
Fujiwara Tatsuma shot him a sideways glance, the corner of his mouth curling into a teasing smile.
"I've heard something else, though. Apparently you've got a thing for Kasumiōji Hoko—following her around every day, serving tea and running errands like a loyal attendant."
Taichi's face instantly turned red.
"That's exaggerated!" he protested awkwardly. "I just check in on her now and then. We're… just normal friends!"
"Sure," Fujiwara chuckled. "But there's a fine line between caring and overdoing it."
He shook his head and sighed.
"Taichi, feelings aren't something you can force. And pouring your heart into a one-sided crush rarely ends well."
"Heh…"
Taichi brushed it off with a halfhearted laugh, pretending he didn't care.
But deep down, his thoughts began to churn.
Over the past three months since transferring into the Special Advancement Class, Hoko had mostly treated him with distant politeness.
Yet because he liked her, he kept hanging around her anyway.
Eventually, people had started labeling him a creep.
Maybe… I really did go too far.
"By the way, Taichi," Fujiwara suddenly asked, interrupting his thoughts. "That guy in your class—Tsunayashiro Tokio. You two don't get along, right?"
"Not really…"
Taichi's face showed a hint of helplessness.
After all, back at Dojo No. 2, he had rather shamelessly toyed with Tokio.
Choosing his words carefully, he replied,
"It was awkward at first. But over the past three months, we've mostly kept to our own lanes. So—"
"Fujiwara! So this is where you are!" A cheerful voice suddenly rang out.
A girl wearing the academy's white-and-red uniform, with long brown hair flowing over her shoulders, hurried toward them.
Her eyes were locked on Fujiwara.
The way she looked at him was exactly like a fangirl spotting her favorite celebrity—her face full of admiration and infatuation.
"Hanako," Fujiwara said coldly. "You've violated the dormitory rules again."
"As a woman, if you throw away your dignity and pride like this… how can you ever hope to become a proper Shinigami?"
"F-Fujiwara, I… I just…"
Hanako's face turned pale—paler than moonlight.
She didn't dare step forward.
But she couldn't bring herself to leave either.
So she stood there awkwardly, hands trembling, her eyes reddening as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
"Hey, Fujiwara, I think—"
Taichi couldn't quite stand watching this scene anymore. He was about to suggest that Fujiwara might want to be a little gentler with a pretty girl—
When suddenly a furious shout erupted nearby.
"Fujiwara Tatsuma! You clueless bastard!"
A tall, broad-shouldered guy stormed over, his voice trembling with anger.
"What gives you the right to talk to Hanako like that?! Do you even know why she keeps breaking the rules?!"
"Shut up, Oki!" Hanako snapped, glaring at the large, rather unattractive boy.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Stop following me around!"
"S-sorry, Hanako!" Oki stammered nervously.
In front of the girl he loved, his earlier aggression vanished completely.
He stuttered for a while before finally blurting out an awkward excuse.
"I just… I was worried about you! So I followed you here to check on you!"
Taichi glanced at the expressionless Fujiwara.
Then he looked at the arguing pair—Hanako and Oki.
Suddenly, realization dawned on him.
Ah…
So this is what Mom used to talk about.
The overwhelming stench of romance.
Man… it really does hit you right in the face.