The sun shone brightly outside the window, and a faint mist of heat rose between the two of them.
Suō Tsukasa felt the timing was right, so he straightened his posture and spoke.
"Miss Terada, there is something I would like to discuss with you. Because of my spiritual power aptitude, I often feel hungry and need to eat more food on a daily basis."
"If possible, could the people from Kuramotoya be asked to prepare about half a tenth more inventory during each delivery? The extra cost for this part can be deducted from my wages."
His tone was sincere, neither overly humble nor presumptuous.
He had to fight for every second of time; food was crucial to him.
"There's no need to deduct money. Feel free to use the ingredients in the kitchen. I'm not short of a little bit of money."
"Teradaya never treats hard-working people unfairly."
Miss Terada's expression was calm, as if she were talking about the most ordinary thing.
She had lived much longer than her appearance suggested and, having run this izakaya for many years, she was already accustomed to all kinds of happenings in the Rukongai.
"Don't tell Tamaki-chan about your situation. The fewer people who know, the less danger there is."
"Decades ago, there was a man who claimed to have spiritual power aptitude and always wanted to run up a tab at my shop, saying he would repay me after he became a Shinigami. I refused him."
She picked up her teacup, her gaze passing through the rising steam, recalling the past as if looking through time.
"He came back several times later, persistent, but I never agreed. Then, one day, he never appeared again."
She gently placed the teacup back on the table with a nearly imperceptible sound. She seemed to be speaking of an old story, but she was, in fact, reminding him.
"I understand. Thank you."
Nodding in acknowledgment, Tsukasa simultaneously processed the key information in her words.
The sudden disappearance decades ago made him think of Aizen's massive soul experiments to create the Hōgyoku.
The creation of the Hōgyoku involved hundreds of Shinigami and numerous souls with spiritual power aptitude from the Rukongai. However, the time span of the experiments was too long, and the original work provided too few descriptions, making it difficult to pinpoint the exact time.
Besides, the sudden disappearance of a soul in the Rukongai was perfectly normal, which made it even harder to judge.
Considering the slightly arrogant and clingy style of the person Miss Terada mentioned, it wouldn't be surprising if he had angered someone and attracted murder.
The concept of a "year" barely existed in the Rukongai; knowing the "month" and "day" was already rare.
This temporal ambiguity made any verification incredibly difficult, which was especially frustrating for him.
Very satisfied with Tsukasa's attitude, Miss Terada continued to ask; this kind of chatting was quite pleasant.
"Do you want to become a Shinigami?"
"Yes. Do you know anything about the Shin'ō Academy?"
It was a godsend opportunity. As he answered, Tsukasa took the chance to ask the question that had been on his mind.
"I know some things. What do you want to know?"
Miss Terada lifted the teapot, tilted it slightly, and refilled his cup with fresh tea.
A subtle smile appeared at the corner of her lips; she had anticipated this question.
"For example, the enrollment time and conditions?"
Tsukasa knew the specific location of the Shin'ō Academy very well, but he genuinely didn't know the other two things.
Miss Terada did not disappoint him and slowly said,
"You're out of luck this year; the time has already passed."
"As for the conditions, they're very simple. Any soul with spiritual power aptitude just needs to walk to the academy gate and register before the end of March each year."
"That should be easy for you. The entrance to the Shin'ō Academy is near the Hakutōmon guarded by Jidanbō, accessed through the West 1st District."
"That big fellow looks scary on the outside, but he's quite simple-minded. If you can't find the way, you can ask him."
"Wait, just walk to the gate and register?"
Hearing this, Tsukasa's eyes widened, and he froze for a moment, thinking he had misheard.
He had imagined that the Shin'ō Academy would have various strict screening criteria, such as a combination of spiritual pressure level testing, written exams, interviews, and physical tests.
He had never expected it to be so simple and direct.
"No... 'Anyone who can walk to the gate alive'..."
He quickly understood the underlying meaning.
"They have already passed the first step of the screening."
Such simple enrollment conditions—this crude and direct screening method—revealed the cruelty of the Soul Society from another perspective.
"Hehe, it's been like that since the day I first heard about it; it hasn't changed," Miss Terada said, covering her mouth and chuckling. It was the first time she had seen such an expression on Tsukasa's face, and she found it quite amusing.
"Before then, you must work hard for me here at Teradaya!"
"Time is about up, hurry to the kitchen and prepare."
Feeling that the casual chat had gone on long enough, Miss Terada abruptly changed the subject and dismissed him to work with a wave of her hand.
"Yes!"
"Thank you very much."
Tsukasa's spirit lifted. He stood up and replied, returning to his post full of motivation.
This casual conversation had clearly pointed out the direction for his future.
It was now late May, making the countdown to entering the Shin'ō Academy exactly ten months.
...
Early morning, Teradaya backyard.
Night dew clung to the branches and leaves of an old tree in the corner of the yard, each drop reflecting the soft, not-yet-bright light.
Creak—
Gently sliding open the door, Tsukasa, dressed in a white short coat and carrying a white oak sword, entered the backyard.
His breath condensed into a faint white mist in the cool air; his appearance broke the stillness.
Aside from his spiritual power training at night, now that he had the training tools, Tsukasa was ready to officially start his plan to get stronger.
The reason he didn't start on the second morning was that he was genuinely starving when he woke up; the two meals from the previous afternoon and evening had barely lined his stomach.
Now that he had been granted the right to use ingredients and free access to the stove by Miss Terada, he officially changed from three meals a day to five meals a day.
The plan to get stronger was simple. In terms of martial arts, he had many excellent people in his mind to emulate and learn from.
From these, he chose a highly suitable subject for imitation: Isaac Netero, the Hunter Association Chairman in Hunter x Hunter. He was a powerful individual who pursued the pinnacle of martial arts his whole life, a martial arts grandmaster who once practiced the full-hearted, grateful straight punch ten thousand times a day on a high mountain, seeking the dual limits of body and spirit.
Originally, Saitama-sensei's path to transcendence in One Punch Man was also quite good, requiring no or little space, but he didn't want to go bald, even if the chance was only one in a billion.
The Hunter Chairman's philosophy, "Punching ten thousand times, its truth will become clear," involved the ultimate accumulation of repetition, extraordinary willpower and endurance, and the perseverance of time. This was perfect for him, given his now-long lifespan.
Tsukasa held the sword, planted his feet firmly, and assumed the starting stance for suburi (repeated sword-swinging practice).
"Begin!"
As he began to swing the sword, the dawn had just painted the sky an indigo-purple, and the sound of the wooden sword cutting through the air interwove with the chirping of the morning birds.
When the number reached one thousand, his body and spirit entered a state of immersion. His muscles were fully activated like an engine, and every inch of his skin was breathing.
When the number of swings surpassed three thousand, the last trace of night had been dispelled by the pale light of the sky, which was now clear. His movements became increasingly fluid, and the man and the sword seemed to fuse into one.
At five thousand swings, the morning sun had leaped over the horizon, its light spilling across the land like molten gold. Sweat had long soaked his clothes, and the golden sunlight shone upon his body, from which heat was steaming.