Because spiritual aptitude is so difficult to measure, Lu Yu could convincingly pass as someone who had simply stumbled into awakening through sheer luck. If anyone asked, the story was simple—an unexpected breakthrough, a sudden ignition of Reiatsu. Some Shinigami were chosen by their Zanpakutō from the start, so his sudden awakening didn't raise eyebrows. Reiatsu manifested all the time—what was strange about that?
After hearing Hitsugaya Tōshirō's comment, Lu Yu couldn't help but mutter inwardly, annoyed by the boy's dual nature—"You little punk. When you're busy, it's 'Lu Yu,' but when you want something, it's 'Uncle Lu Yu.'" Thankfully, Lu Yu had his plug-in, or he might've been backstabbed by this pint-sized prodigy. Still, he understood that Hitsugaya's early maturity meant he wouldn't behave this way unless he genuinely trusted him. In the original timeline, both Hinamori Momo and Hitsugaya Tōshirō only let their guard down when alone, showing their real selves in private. Now, when facing Lu Yu, the young boy occasionally revealed those unguarded moments, proof of a bond forming.
Back then, due to Reiatsu suppression, Lu Yu's predecessor and Hitsugaya had been nothing more than casual acquaintances—same world, yes, but no real connection. Now, things had changed. Lu Yu calmly released his Reiatsu into the test ring, and the gauge, which had just reset, began to spike wildly once again. Within minutes, the ring had endured more spiritual pressure than it was designed for. Observers stood stunned—Lu Yu, always mild and reserved on the surface, now radiated a Reiatsu level on par with Hitsugaya Tōshirō. And while Hitsugaya's strength felt innate, his natural aura long acknowledged, it was Lu Yu's quiet and concealed power that shocked more deeply. It's easy to accept greatness from someone marked by destiny, but for an ordinary custodian to suddenly unveil overwhelming strength—it unsettled the room. That was Lu Yu now, and even so, he was holding back.
If he truly let loose, he wouldn't just match Hitsugaya—he'd surpass him. But attracting the attention of those silver-haired manipulators wasn't part of the plan, so he kept things under control. Playing it low-key wasn't easy. Lu Yu had already stirred things up in West District 1, and the people organizing this exam were likely already suspicious. If he bombed the test while his sworn brother barely passed, even the densest examiner would raise questions. So, instead of concealing everything, he put on a performance—showing just enough strength to sow uncertainty. After all, someone who had gone out of his way to hide his Reiatsu wouldn't suddenly flaunt it, would they? That contradiction became his shield.
It wasn't that he couldn't act high-profile—he just chose not to unless necessary. Even a momentary window of confusion could buy him time, and with that time, he could grow stronger. Once the storyline settled and he earned another twisted reward, he wouldn't need to play games anymore. And if things ever truly turned sour, he could simply cast aside the act and go all out. "I'm the damn ancestor. Stand aside or get blasted into the sky." That thought amused him, especially as Daewoo Nahara Yan Wulang stared at him in disbelief, clearly realizing that Lu Yu wasn't just some background character.
Meanwhile, the two 12th Division Shinigami exchanged whispers, quietly impressed. "His Reiatsu is incredible." "Definitely a genius. And that control—remarkable." For wild Reiatsu users like Lu Yu and Hitsugaya, raw strength wasn't the rare part; the lack of foundational control usually made their power unstable. That's why Hitsugaya, despite his prodigy status, still leaked spiritual pressure unintentionally. Even if he meant no harm, the strain it put on those around him forced him into the Academy to learn restraint. Lu Yu's Reiatsu matched his in strength, but his innate control told a different story. In a world of Shinigami, where precision mattered as much as force, such control wasn't just valuable—it was another kind of genius. If the timing had been different, those two from Division 12 would've tried to recruit him on the spot.
To them, technical talent like Lu Yu was priceless. Zanpakutō wielders were dramatic and flashy, but when it came to saving Soul Society from collapse, it was the Technology Development Bureau that did the real work. "Awesome, Brother Lu Yu, we get to stay together again!" Hinamori Momo, ever pure-hearted, wasn't concerned about politics or strategy. She was just genuinely happy that the three of them wouldn't be separated. Lu Yu's moment of recognition made her smile wider than his own. Even Hitsugaya, trying his best to maintain his cool exterior, couldn't completely hide the wave of relief that softened his expression.
"Good, good, good," Daewoo Nahara Yan Wulang exclaimed with delight, the words tumbling out in one breath as he grinned like a child who'd just been handed a lifetime supply of sweets. With Lu Yu and Hitsugaya on board, this year's special class was secured. In fact, the next few years were practically guaranteed to shine. Who could accuse them of favoritism now? Let the others complain—if they were jealous, they could go find their own prodigies.
Technically, there was supposed to be a written test next to evaluate cultural knowledge, Shinigami code, and general awareness, but after seeing their Reiatsu levels, neither Daewoo nor the 12th Division examiners brought it up again. At that level, even an illiterate brute from the 11th Division would be accepted without question. So, just like that, Lu Yu and Hitsugaya became official transfer students of the Special Class, enjoying honors reserved for Shinigami geniuses.
Despite Hitsugaya's quiet objections, Lu Yu refused the offer of a single dorm and chose instead to room with the silver-haired prodigy in a shared space. Hitsugaya frowned, clearly annoyed, but Lu Yu simply grinned and teased, "Didn't you just call me Uncle? Don't worry, Uncle's gentle." "Idiot. I'm a genius—I don't need a babysitter," the boy retorted, scowling with all the defiance his short frame could muster. Watching the two bicker, Hinamori Momo nodded with delight, convinced that this was the happiest moment yet.
For her, happiness was simple—being together with the people she cared about. Fulfilling wishes was happiness, and Lu Yu was happiness itself. Before they left, the two Shinigami from Division 12 approached Lu Yu again, offering words of goodwill and invitations. They didn't talk about benefits or promotions, only spoke of ideals—changing the world, uncovering secrets, exploring the unknown. It made Lu Yu sigh; technology was always like that—pure in vision, dangerous in execution.
Still basking in joy, Hinamori Momo led the boys to the logistics office to collect their uniforms and ID cards. The Spiritual Arts Academy, ever efficient, had even prepared a perfectly sized uniform for Hitsugaya. The little boy still looked like a child, especially when he got flustered, and his small stature—shorter even than his future self as a captain—made him appear even more adorable. Lu Yu half-expected that they wouldn't find clothes that fit, but as always, the Academy had everything ready.