Aizen maintained his gentle smile, his tone as warm as a spring breeze as he addressed Hirako:
"Captain Hirako, I truly appreciate your recognition. However, I happen to be friends with 5th Seat Shiki, and I deeply respect his insight that 'a Shinigami's battle is a clash of Reiatsu.'"
As he spoke, he naturally turned his head and looked toward Shiki Mirai. His eyes curved into two friendly crescents.
"Therefore, if it's up to me, I'd much prefer to join the 9th Division. That way, I'd have more opportunities to learn from and grow alongside 5th Seat Shiki."
He smiled at Shiki with perfect politeness, his tone carefully laced with deference:
"5th Seat Shiki, you wouldn't mind having me around, would you?"
Shiki hadn't even opened his mouth before Hirako Shinji cast him a sideways glance, lips curled in mischief, dead-fish eyes gleaming with amusement:
"Oh? So you're saying you want Aizen to join the 9th Division? No wonder you're the one here for recruitment this year."
Shiki's face remained placid, but inside he was howling with injustice.
Unfair! I'm innocent! I'm only here because Captain Muguruma and Vice-Captain Kuna set me up!
And you, Aizen—what the hell are you doing?!
Weren't you supposed to join the 5th because Hirako would always be suspicious of you, which actually made it easier for you to stay hidden and plot things behind the scenes?!
Why the hell would you come to the 9th?! Our Captain is a straightforward muscle-head who wouldn't suspect a single thing! That's not good for your sneaky plans at all, my dude!
Suppressing the roar in his heart, Shiki forced out a steady tone:
"Aizen-san, personally, I believe with your excellence across all disciplines and your well-rounded abilities, you'd have a much broader future in a squad like the 5th."
He quickly turned to Hirako, blinking at him so furiously his eyelids twitched like short-circuiting nerves.
Captain Hirako! Did you see that?! That was my most sincere gaze! I swear I'm not trying to steal your recruit! This isn't my fault!
He turned his head back again, trying to talk some sense into the "misguided" Aizen:
"With your talent and ambition, I doubt you'd be content staying a mere seated officer, right?"
Aizen! What happened to your hundred-year plan?! Your pride?! You're supposed to stand above the heavens one day—snap out of it! Go to the 5th, that's where you belong!
But Aizen still wore that flawless, serene smile.
"Whether it's as an unseated officer, a seated one, a vice-captain or a captain, we all serve for the peace and prosperity of Seireitei. There's no true hierarchy in that. And aren't you, 5th Seat Shiki, contentedly serving in your current post and doing it quite well?"
"Can't argue with that," Hirako cut in, lips twitching in a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. His tone was somewhere between joking and pointed.
"With Shiki's strength, just being a seated officer is definitely a waste. How about this—why don't you come to the 5th too? I'll save the vice-captain seat for you. How's that sound?"
Though his words were casual, his eyes were slightly more open than usual—void of even a flicker of humor.
"Tch!" Shiki sucked in a breath through his teeth.
Bro. Are you two setting me up together?!
What did I do to deserve being targeted by BOTH of you?!
Aizen I can understand—I've used your backstory for profit and stole your quotes for flair.
But you, Captain Hirako?! What's your deal?! Trying to pull me in for surveillance too?! I'm just a salted fish trying to live in peace! What did I ever do to deserve this?!
Shiki inhaled deeply and once again clarified:
"My capabilities are nowhere near what's required to serve as a vice-captain."
"Whether it's the 9th or 5th Division, leadership requires far more than combat skills. It involves management, decision-making, and many other qualities I still lack."
He tried to throw the spotlight back onto Aizen:
"In comparison, Aizen-san is far more balanced and accomplished. He's clearly a better candidate for vice-captain. Captain Hirako, I think you should consider him more seriously."
But Aizen wasn't letting go. Smiling, he smoothly picked up the thread:
"You're far too modest, 5th Seat Shiki. Your precise control of Reiryoku earlier and the way you explained it so clearly—those alone prove you're exceptional."
Then he shifted to another topic—one that made Shiki's scalp tingle.
"Not to mention, you possess the most beautiful Zanpakutō in the entire Soul Society."
His gaze was sincere, his tone perfectly reverent:
"A Zanpakutō reflects the soul of its wielder. To have such a beautiful one must mean your spirit is equally pure and noble, no?"
"Tsk," Hirako clicked his tongue and squinted suspiciously at Shiki. "Now that you mention it—does your Zanpakutō really live up to the hype?"
Every Shinigami possessed a Zanpakutō—each one forged from a base Asauchi and personalized by the wielder's own soul.
The Asauchi was like a blank page, and only by projecting one's soul onto it could it transform into a unique Zanpakutō with its own form and name.
Its shape was said to reflect the wielder's inner self.
For instance, Sarugaki Hiyori's wild and unruly Kubikiri Orochi mirrored her hot-headed, direct personality.
To awaken Shikai while still a student at Shin'o Academy was a feat reserved for prodigies.
Shiki's mouth twitched.
How the hell did Aizen lead the conversation to this?!
He had only released his Shikai a few times.
The one and only time he'd done it publicly was during a sparring match—when Vice-Captain Kuna Mashiro had provoked him into snapping and he unleashed it out of sheer frustration.
After that, somehow the nickname "Most Beautiful Zanpakutō in the Soul Society" had spread like wildfire.
Even though that time, he'd activated it using the wrong release phrase—a forced, disguised form of the real thing...
Shiki glanced at the two men in front of him.
Aizen's eyes glowed with innocent curiosity, while Hirako's gleamed with blatant investigation.
Suddenly, everything clicked.
Damn it! These two schemers are ganging up to force me into revealing my Shikai!
Aizen might just be curious… or something else entirely.
But Hirako? He probably wants to assess just how dangerous I really am.
When did you two reach this tacit agreement?! No wonder you'll be stuck in the same squad for decades of love-hate drama!
Don't drag me down with you!
Shiki's lips twitched as he made one final attempt to resist:
"There'll be plenty of opportunities to see my Shikai later. For now, shouldn't we focus on Aizen-san's squad placement…?"
But Aizen smiled as gently as ever and replied:
"Actually, part of the reason I want to join the 9th Division is because I'd like to admire the 'Most Beautiful Zanpakutō in the Soul Society' up close. If I can witness it right here, right now…"
"Tchhh!" Another sharp intake of breath.
Aizen, you bastard! You really won't quit until you get what you want, huh?!
Hirako immediately chimed in, arms folded:
"Look at that. The junior's making such a sincere request. Wouldn't it be a little rude of you, as a senior, not to oblige him?"
"That's right, Shiki-kun~"
Kyōraku Shunsui had somehow wandered over, wearing that lazy, trouble-loving grin.
"I'm curious too. What does your Zanpakutō really look like? Come on—satisfy our curiosity~"
Whether it was pure curiosity or covert intel gathering only he knew.
Facing what had basically become a three-man inquisition, Shiki knew there was no way out.
He took a deep breath and gave a slow nod.
"…Fine. Take a look, then."
He stepped back, putting some distance between himself and the others.
His right hand gripped the hilt at his waist and drew the Zanpakutō out slowly, holding it level before him.
His left hand gently rose and brushed along the cold blade.
In that moment, the entire training ground fell silent.
Every graduate—even Sarugaki Hiyori, bruised but wide-eyed, and the stoic Yadōmaru Lisa—held their breath.
No one wanted to miss a single detail of the legendary "Most Beautiful Zanpakutō in the Soul Society."
Shiki Mirai's hand slid slowly down the slender blade—and at the same time, a wave of cold, pure Reiatsu burst from his body and rippled outward.
His voice was low and clear, sharp as ice:
"Fall—Hyōsetsu Emaki."
In an instant, the blade in his hand dissolved into glimmering snow-dust, as if stardust scattered by the wind.
The icy Reishi particles rapidly converged in his hand, reshaping into a translucent folding fan made of frozen crystal and swirling snow.
Snowflakes drifted across the fan's surface, slow and weightless, catching the light in a haze of pale luminescence.
Its crystalline frame outlined elegant curves. The entire fan shimmered with breathtaking beauty—as though it captured all the poetry of winter.
At the same time, the temperature in the training ground dropped ever so slightly. Faint cold winds swept through, carrying silent, delicate snowflakes that floated down without a sound.
Shiki Mirai stood quietly in the middle of the soft snowfall, holding the dreamlike ice fan.
The stark black of his Shihakushō contrasted sharply with the pale snow.
His features, framed by drifting frost, looked even more ethereal—like a nobleman stepped out of a timeless painting, steeped in sorrow and grace.
In that moment, the world fell silent.
Only the snow whispered beauty across the air.