The figure ahead was facing away from him, but that didn't diminish the sense of authority and elegance she radiated.
Her short, deep violet hair stood out, sharp and neat. She wasn't wearing the standard Academy uniform, but a tight outfit — a cropped top and shorts that reached mid-thigh.
With just one look, Arima Shinya understood immediately: this woman was not a student of Shin'ō Academy.
Putting together what Aizen had said earlier, it was easy to conclude — she must be a specialist from outside.
But wasn't this overkill?
Even from a distance, he could see dozens upon dozens of bodies strewn around — if not a hundred, then at least eighty students lying on the ground.
And yet, she maintained a calm and confident expression, as if she hadn't even exerted herself.
Sensei… you really want me to fight this person?
Are you sure you're not trying to get me killed?
Arima cast a strange glance at Aizen, but the man merely replied with a soft smile and took a few steps forward.
— It's been a long time, Lady Yoruichi. How have you been?
The woman, hands still on her hips, turned just half her body to glance over her shoulder.
It was Yoruichi Shihōin.
Her golden eyes shone with feline intensity, and her brown skin gleamed under the light, revealing a wild and charismatic beauty. Tall, slender, and vibrant in presence, her face held a faintly annoyed expression — yet, when meeting Aizen's gaze, she seemed intrigued.
Turning fully around, she raised her hand slightly, hesitating.
— Oh? You are…
— If I'm not mistaken — Aizen replied, with a polite smile —, we last met nineteen years ago, at the 12th Division facilities, Lady Yoruichi.
— Ah! — she exclaimed, clapping her hands together, a smile so wide it seemed to bloom in the air. — I remember! You're that glasses-wearing nerd who got along with Urahara!
Arima almost choked on his laughter.
The one many called "the greatest manipulator in history" reduced to "glasses-wearing nerd" — that had to be unprecedented.
He even saw Aizen's shoulders tremble for a moment.
Yoruichi Shihōin… you're terrifying!
Even so, absurd as it was, it made sense. In the original canon, the relationship between Aizen and Yoruichi had never been close.
If there was any point of contact between them, it was only one:
Urahara Kisuke, former captain of the 12th Division and founder of the Department of Technological Development.
Yoruichi had been childhood friends with Kisuke, and Aizen's interest in research naturally brought him into contact with that man.
It was natural that the conversation would eventually lead to his name.
From Yoruichi's joyful expression, it was clear how much she valued Urahara — their friendship was deep and unwavering.
In a clearly elevated mood, she moved gracefully among the fallen students, ignoring their groans and stepping over a few along the way, until she stopped in front of Aizen and Arima.
— Come to think of it, it's really been many years since I last saw you. I apologize for that, Aizen.
The mere fact that she remembered his name already showed they were not complete strangers.
Aizen, maintaining his elegance, merely tilted his head slightly.
— Not at all, Lady Yoruichi. A man as insignificant as I am does not deserve such consideration.
— Still speaking so formally, huh? — she laughed. — So, what brings you here?
Aizen gave a small nod, resting his hand on Arima's shoulder.
The young man froze.
Wait… sensei… don't tell me you want me to fight HER?!
What?! Me fight Yoruichi?! That's suicide!
Arima looked at Aizen in panic, but the man pretended not to notice.
Yoruichi, in turn, lowered her gaze, sizing him up from head to toe.
— Hm? So you brought this rookie for what? You want me to train him or something? Let me warn you — I don't waste time with weaklings.
Aizen merely chuckled, keeping his calm tone while giving the young man another light tap on the shoulder.
— Of course I understand your preferences, Lady Yoruichi. Today, we have come only to observe your training session.
— Ah, that's all? — she huffed, rolling her eyes. — You bureaucrats are always so tedious. But fine, whatever.
Suddenly, her gaze lit up again.
— Alright! Let's go! — she clapped her hands and shouted to the fallen students. — Stand up! All of you! How embarrassing, graduating and collapsing so easily!
— Can't get up? Ha! Don't make me laugh! Even with broken bones, as long as you have strength in your waist, you can still fight!
— That's it! Focus your will, rise with grit! Begin the next round — now!
— That's what I like! That expression! Engage every muscle! Breathe deeply! That's it!
— And I'll warn you: anyone who can't endure three rounds of offense and defense… will not earn my recognition!
Yoruichi's voice was firm and vibrant, like thunder.
Compared to the mysterious and provocative woman Arima knew from the future, this Yoruichi seemed more… youthful, energetic, and impetuous.
Aizen guided Arima to a side corner, where several observers stood — including teachers.
All showed respect toward Aizen, and Arima even noticed some female students whispering among themselves.
Ah, great… now they're staring at me too.
Their gaze clearly said:
"Why is this rookie sitting next to Professor Aizen?!"
Arima could only smile awkwardly.
Too popular, this man…
— Shinya-kun — Aizen called, lowering his tone.
— Yes, sensei.
— Observe carefully Yoruichi Shihōin's movements. She is the current head of the Shihōin Clan and commander of the Special Forces.
With his usual care, Aizen adjusted his uniform and continued:
— Her mastery in hand-to-hand combat and shunpo is unparalleled. She has surpassed the legacy of her ancestors and forged her own glory.
— The world calls her… the Goddess of Speed, Yoruichi.
Arima nodded, understanding.
— I see…
Even a hundred years earlier, she was already a living legend.
— But… what is she doing here exactly? — he asked.
Aizen paused for a moment and, with a faint smile, replied softly:
— Let's say… purely on a personal whim.
— Huh?
— Lady Yoruichi often comes to the academy under the pretense of "helping" the graduates with practical classes…
"Helping"? Arima looked again at the battlefield, where students groaned in pain.
This is help? This is a massacre!
Aizen chuckled softly.
— Exactly. It's a form of "educational violence." But also a rare opportunity.
His eyes sparkled.
— Those who stand out — if they can still move, of course — are sometimes chosen by Yoruichi to join her special forces.
Now it all made sense.
Arima remained silent, absorbing it.
So that's why these guys keep getting up… even knowing they'll get beaten.
He watched veterans writhing on the ground, some vomiting, others trying to stand only to be thrown down again.
It was brutal.
Yoruichi attacked with such precision and power that he couldn't even follow her movements.
There was no space for defense.
Nor to fall with dignity.
This woman is a monster…
Arima sighed.
Making a living isn't easy… and being a student here is almost suicide.
While thinking this, Yoruichi spun gracefully — as if dancing — and within seconds, the second round was over.
Not a single student remained standing.
But at that moment, familiar letters flashed before Arima's eyes:
[You witnessed the hand-to-hand combat technique of the Goddess of Speed, Yoruichi.
— Skill [White Combat] +10]
[You witnessed the shunpo technique of the Goddess of Speed, Yoruichi.
— Skill [Shunpo] +10]
What?!
Ten points at once?!
From previous experiences, he knew what this meant — the gap between his abilities and Yoruichi's was colossal, almost unreachable.
It was the kind of chasm where merely observing was enough to evolve.
Goddess of Speed… you are truly incredible.
And as the points were added, the movements that had once seemed like blurs began to become clearer in his mind.
The gestures, the weight shifts, the body pivots — everything now made sense.
Arima continued to watch intently, unaware that beside him, Aizen was observing silently.
A faint smile — full of hidden interest and pleasure — appeared on his face.