"Look over there, that short kid."
"Oh, Sōsuke?"
"So young, practically a monster."
"They say he took down an Adjuchas even a vice-captain would struggle with, in one shot."
"What?!"
In the Academy's corridors, whispers buzzed, barely concealed. From classrooms to hallways, all eyes, low-years and seniors alike, tracked the small figure in the standard Shin'ō Academy uniform passing through.
Though dressed like them, everyone knew this childlike boy was on another level entirely.
Sōsuke seemed oblivious to the murmurs, walking toward his classroom as always.
Yamada Seinosuke, at his side, kept glancing at the whispering sources, a hint of vicarious pride in his eyes, as if the praise were for him.
"Hey, Sōsuke." He said, leaning in with a secretive grin. "You hear that? Everyone's talking about you! They all know you're a genius!"
"Isn't that obvious?" Sōsuke replied, unfazed by Yamada's excitement. "Anyone's name on the front page of Seireitei Daily, with a photo, would cause this. Even you'd be famous, Seinosuke."
Seireitei Daily, launched centuries ago by Makoto as a trial in the Seireitei, had grown under Shinigami economic influence into an official publication across the Soul Society. Its semi-official status, reliable content, stable distribution, and long history gave it influence even in the Rukongai's fringes.
"Me?!" Yamada's eyes lit up, as if his name were already in print. He chattered on, but Sōsuke tuned him out, offering vague "Mm, mm" responses.
Experience taught him that a few half-hearted replies satisfied Yamada's need to talk.
Sōsuke cared little for the publicity. The gap between the ordinary and the gifted was constant. The attention now was merely others catching up.
What puzzled him was Makoto's motive. Why expose his talent so publicly this time?
Sōsuke didn't believe his "prodigy" Status was a secret among the Shinigami elite. He'd known it since Makoto "arrested" Him at the Aizen estate.
The question didn't linger long.
Halfway through the morning class, a seated officer in a formal black Shihakushō knocked on the classroom door. Ignoring the lecturer droning past time, he spotted Sōsuke by the back window and called out, "Sōsuke, step outside. Your early graduation application has been approved. Come with me to the assessment site."
The sleepy Monday morning class erupted. All heads turned to Sōsuke.
He understood Makoto's plan.
"I'm here." He said, rising respectfully before the room.
"Follow me."
"Yes, sir!"
…
The Shinigami leading him was Andō Gensuke, 7th Seat of the 3rd Division. Despite Sōsuke's youthful appearance, Andō showed no condescension, treating him with unusual deference.
Sōsuke, however, didn't act like a smug child prodigy. He probed politely, but Andō's lips were sealed, revealing nothing useful.
As they walked from the Academy's southwest to the Seireitei's heart, Sōsuke sensed the gravity of this "early graduation."
Clang.
A heavy metal gate swung inward.
Andō knelt at the threshold, reporting, "Sir, Sōsuke, student of the Shin'ō Academy, has been brought."
"Let him enter."
A hoarse, steady voice echoed from the hall's depths, perfectly audible.
Sōsuke mirrored Andō's kneeling posture.
He recognized the voice: Captain-Commander Yamamoto?
Makoto, you love your grand spectacles.
His thoughts raced.
Lifting his head as ordered, Sōsuke's gaze froze, his heartbeat skipping.
In the unassuming hall, figures in pure white haori flanked the Captain-Commander. Behind them knelt powerful Shinigami, at least high-ranking seated officers.
As Sōsuke stepped inside, every gaze locked onto him. The weight of their combined Reiatsu could paralyze most Shinigami, making breathing a struggle.
Yet Sōsuke paused only briefly before striding forward, unaffected, kneeling precisely before the Captain-Commander.
Yamamoto, as he had for a millennium, knelt solemnly at the forefront, studying the small boy before him.
For a moment, he saw Makoto centuries ago, standing in his place, though that meeting hadn't been pleasant.
His eyes flicked to Sōsuke's sheathed blade, and he relaxed inwardly.
Good. No tabi.
With Makoto as a comparison, the old man was easily satisfied.
Noticing Yamamoto's subtle glance, Makoto smirked faintly. He'd moved beyond tabi tricks, hadn't he?
The moment passed quickly.
After a brief appraisal, Yamamoto spoke evenly, "Sōsuke, do you know why I've summoned you?"
"I've heard it's regarding my early graduation application." Sōsuke replied, still kneeling, sneaking a glance at Makoto for a hint, though his answer was honest.
Makoto ignored him.
Yamamoto continued, unfazed. "You were present during the 'Adjuchas-level Hollow attack' in the Academy's field training. Witnesses claim you slew it in one strike. Is this true?"
Makoto's silence was its own answer.
Sōsuke took a deep breath, responding firmly, "Yes."
Instantly, the weight of every gaze settled on him again.
The captains' gazes varied, some astonished, others scrutinizing, a few dismissive.
But the vice-captains and high-ranking seated officers behind them regarded Sōsuke with far greater weight. Regardless of how he'd done it, slaying an Adjuchas-level Hollow meant this child's strength rivaled theirs.
For Shinigami, merit trumped seniority.
Yet, among the kneeling crowd, a few eyes flickered with disdain or hostility. Merit was one thing, but the humiliation of being outshone by a near-graduate was another. Some couldn't grasp their own limits.
"Good." Yamamoto said, noting the boy's composed demeanor. "If so, further training at the Shin'ō Academy is unnecessary. It's time to induct you into the Gotei 13."
He turned to the captains. "Any objections to Sōsuke's early graduation?"
Silence blanketed the room.
Most captains found Yamamoto's grand display, raising a student's graduation at a captains' meeting, excessive. If this boy was special, it was likely one reason: he was someone's disciple.
Eyes drifted to Makoto.
Paving the way for his student?
As their gazes shifted, Makoto stepped forward, sensing their skepticism. He smiled. "Captain-Commander, early graduation is unprecedented in the Academy's three centuries. To prevent future favoritism, I request a stringent assessment to set a fair precedent."
Makoto trusted no one's "wisdom" in the future.
Murmurs of surprise rippled through the room. Was Captain Makoto opting for a hardline approach?
"What form should this assessment take?" Yamamoto asked calmly.
Makoto scanned the crowd, his gaze lingering on the restless seated officers and vice-captains. "Let defeating a third-seat officer in one-on-one combat be the minimum standard."
A commotion erupted among the officers behind the captains.
They stared at Makoto, stunned, not because the bar was too low, but too high.
The Gotei 13 had only thirteen third-seats. Even including the Kidō Corps, Sealing Unit, and Barrier Team, these were among the Seireitei's top hundred, honed through countless battles. Some could even serve as interim captains in emergencies.
A mere student, for early graduation, challenging such elites?
Was he insane?
Yet Yamamoto nodded, as if it were obvious. "Let it be the standard, starting now."
"Yes, sir." Makoto replied, his smile warm.
But his eyes turned sharp, sweeping over the dismissive faces with a provocative glint. "Anyone volunteer?"
Sōsuke, still kneeling, looked slightly puzzled.
Was this to legitimize his reputation?
But why?
Silence gripped the room. No one spoke.
The assessment offered no benefit. Winning was embarrassing; losing, worse.
"Ugh, what a hassle." Saitō cradling her sword yawned with half-lidded eyes complaining. "Hurry up and finish so we can eat lunch. I'm starving, and it's nap time. This is all your fault, Makoto, you idiot."
Unohana smiled, scanning the scene. She'd heard Makoto praise the boy's talent often, but seeing his combat firsthand would reveal why he valued him.
After a pause, a tall woman with an updo stormed up from the 3rd Division, her Kansai accent laced with irritation. "Tch! All this 'genius' nonsense is annoying! Why's every hassle dumped on third-seats?"
Her captain, Kinroku, tensed, as did Shunsui beside him, both silenced by the yakuza-like woman.
"Ahem, Iba." Kinroku whispered, mindful of Yamamoto. "Calm down, the Captain-Commander's here…"
She shot him a glare. "Handle your own paperwork then!"
Her words hit his weak spot, and he fell silent.
Clearly, Makoto's influence had spread a trend across the Gotei 13: captains offloading duties to third-seats.
Jūshirō, another third-seat, sighed nearby.
Yamamoto, unmoved as a mountain, ignored the fuss. He'd seen bigger scenes.
As the two took their places in the hall's center, the crowd cleared space.
The woman faced Sōsuke coldly. "Third-Seat of the 3rd Division, Chikane Iba! Let's see what you've got."
Sōsuke met her temper with a gentle smile. "Thank you, Iba-senpai."
After brief introductions, they drew their Asauchi, blades poised.
Katori leaned toward Makoto, whispering, "Quite the effort, Makoto. This grand setup isn't your style. Got something interesting planned next?"
Makoto glanced at her, surprised. Katori's eyes, glinting behind her glasses, betrayed a sly confidence, as if she'd already deduced his motives.
In a way, she saw through him completely.
"Less 'interesting,' more 'troublesome.'" Makoto whispered back, matching her low tone.
Saitō's half-closed eyes snapped open, her gaze slicing toward them.
Katori smirked provocatively at her.
Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!!
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
***
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