The two of them walked out of the classroom with arms slung over each other's shoulders, completely lacking in decorum. That said, with Hirako Shinji doing most of the "pressuring," Aizen—clearly the one being dragged along—looked half-bemused, half-resigned.
Bits and pieces drifted into Arima Shizuya's ears.
How long are you planning to stay here?
The division's work is busy, you know.
We're having a hard time without you.
It was obvious: at this stage, Aizen and Hirako were already very familiar with each other—and Aizen seemed to be carrying quite a bit of responsibility in the Fifth Division.
So capable, Sensei.
Shizuya watched Aizen see the Fifth Division Captain off with an easy smile.
There hadn't been any tangible stat gains tonight, but just getting to meet a Captain of the Gotei Thirteen made it more than worth it.
In high spirits, Shizuya returned to the dorm, tidied up, and got ready to head out to the practice range.
But before he'd taken two steps, he spotted a familiar figure at the doorway.
Tōsen Kaname.
There was still swelling on him. He'd wrapped himself in bandages, but he looked painfully battered all the same.
"Huh? Why are you here?"
Hearing footsteps behind him, Tōsen turned his head slightly. His hair was neatly combed back, and his tone was as even as ever.
"I asked around about you. I heard you like sword training. I don't like owing debts, so I waited here for you."
He raised a hand halfway, fingertips brushing the hilt.
"The way of the sword has a long history. There is much you have yet to learn… I can teach you some of it."
Oh?
So we're doing this.
Shizuya's expression turned a little amused.
He had twenty-six points in Slash now. Not comparable to a proper seated officer, sure—
But beating a senpai only one year above him?
That should be easy.
"I'm not trying to brag, but if it's swordsmanship, you might not be my opponent."
Tōsen answered with a quiet snort and a decisive turn of his back.
"Words are pointless. Let the dōjō decide."
Spicy.
Shizuya chuckled, quickening his pace to walk beside him.
"By the way, I've been wondering, so I'll ask bluntly… is your skin tone natural?"
"..."
"And your hair—your hair. If you're Black, aren't you going to do something cooler with it? Like an afro, dreadlocks, a reggae middle part—"
"..."
"Say something, will you? It's boring when it feels like I'm doing a one-man show."
"…Shut up."
Beyond that, Tōsen had no interest in talking.
Two hours later…
The two of them crawled out of the dōjō, groaning in pain, bodies covered in bruises.
It turned out they both had more skill than the other had expected.
Tōsen had inherited his late friend's asauchi, and he clearly hadn't neglected sword training.
As for Shizuya, his twenty-six points weren't for show. This was never going to be a "quick and easy" win.
From early probing, to full engagement, to tempers flaring—
Well.
Not exactly surprising.
Shizuya's left cheek was swollen to twice its size, his eye squeezed into a slit.
That was the result of Tōsen's relentless offense—not a perfect outcome, but it had done the job.
Still, Shizuya hadn't just stood there and taken it.
Watching Tōsen clutch his left arm with a face that looked like he wanted to howl but was stubbornly holding it in, Shizuya felt a surge of secret satisfaction.
I'm not bad, alright?
And more importantly—
This was the real reward.
[You swung the wooden sword and had an intimate exchange with Tōsen Kaname. Swordsmanship +3]
Just from the gains, Shizuya could roughly gauge Tōsen's level—slightly higher than his own. A level he could surpass with effort.
"You're sharper than your mouth makes you sound," Tōsen said, voice flat.
Shizuya only laughed.
"You're not exactly gentle either."
"Same time tomorrow?"
"Deal!"
To be honest, Shizuya's competitive streak had been lit on fire.
I can't beat Aizen, sure—but you? A Black dude one year above me? I'll take you down easily!
He staggered back to the dorm and quickly realized he'd overestimated his recovery.
Because the next day, the soreness was worse.
It felt exactly like the time you went to a gym for the first time, loaded weights you had no business touching, and woke up the next day unable to move.
Someone save me.
But he wasn't close to anyone. After hesitating for a moment, he realized the dorm was already empty.
If you want help, help yourself. Get up, Arima Shizuya!
He dragged himself out of bed with every ounce of willpower he had. After washing up and rewrapping his bandages—
He limped to class with half his face swollen.
As expected, Shizuya became the center of attention. Naturally, Aizen noticed too.
The gentle guidance instructor started another round of "between-class counseling."
In the corridor between classrooms, Aizen smiled lightly and raised his right hand, hovering it over half of Shizuya's face.
A pale green light flickered.
The power of Kaidō flowed, filling and mending his wounds.
The bruising faded at once, and Shizuya's blurry vision snapped back into clarity.
"Two talks in three days, Shizuya-kun. I wouldn't have guessed you were such a troublemaker."
Aizen sat beside him, arms folded, tone warm.
"So—what happened this time?"
Shizuya rubbed his face and confessed everything about what had happened with Tōsen Kaname.
Aizen's expression visibly brightened.
"I see… so you made a friend. That is truly something to celebrate."
"The years of being a student are simple. Actions are not yet mixed with selfish desires."
"To find a like-minded friend at this stage—there is no happier news."
"As your guidance instructor, Shizuya-kun, I am genuinely glad… and proud."
And yet—
Shizuya watched Aizen calmly adjust his glasses.
"However, such violent behavior—so reckless and without restraint—please think carefully before doing it again."
…His glasses are reflecting light.
Guh. Th-this pressure…!
Shizuya could only give an awkward laugh and nod.
"By the way, Shizuya-kun, since you like sword training so much… you may consider applying to lease an asauchi."
"Huh? I can do that?"
"Of course. There are many things we haven't mentioned to first-years simply because you don't need them yet."
Aizen smiled and lifted a hand, tapping the air lightly with his index finger as if wielding a pointer.
"The purpose of admitting new students is to make you capable Shinigami who can stand on your own. If you can grow accustomed to handling a real blade in advance, isn't that a good thing?"
Shizuya rubbed his chin.
It did make sense.
An asauchi—the initial form of a Zanpakutō…
Up until now, he'd only ever held wooden swords. He had no idea what a real blade felt like in hand.
He wanted it.
"Then… Aizen-sensei, what paperwork do I need?"
"Write an application. I'll give you a copy later. You will also need a guarantor's recommendation—because this is an exception to the rules. As a student alone, it's difficult to get approved."
A guarantor.
It sounded unusual, but thinking about it, it fit.
Without connections like that, it would've been hard for Tōsen to keep his sword too.
So—
"Your guarantor can only be me, Shizuya-kun."
Shizuya made a sheepish face.
He was a Shin'ō Academy student—he understood perfectly what violating school rules could mean.
At best, expulsion.
At worst, imprisonment.
He didn't have the mindset to treat prison like a throne—and besides, souls didn't follow the same lifespan logic as humans.
If he got locked up now…
He might be there for the rest of his existence.
Aizen was taking a real risk.
Damn, he's good.
"Even if I didn't mean to, I keep causing you trouble, Aizen-sensei… I'm really sorry!"
Aizen only smiled broadly, waving it off as if it were nothing.
"It is a small matter. Not worth mentioning. And I believe in your character, Shizuya-kun. You will not betray my expectations."
With things said to that extent, how could Shizuya back out now?
He nodded firmly.
"I will not fail you!"
Aizen smiled softly and nodded.
"Good."
On the way back, Aizen seemed to remember something, and he didn't forget to warn him.
"Immersing yourself in one art is not a bad thing, but as your guidance instructor, I must remind you…"
"Shizuya-kun—this month's exam topic is Hakuda."
Shizuya's expression froze.
He'd completely forgotten about that.
Performance at the Academy mattered. If he wanted a good placement after graduation, he had to take those exams seriously.
So what level was he at?
He glanced at his panel.
[Fist: 2]
Shizuya couldn't help scratching at the corner of his mouth.
With that level, forget competing on a stage—he was, at best, slightly better than flailing around like a turtle.
His workload suddenly felt enormous.
Specializing too hard was dangerous.
Looks like I need to put sword training on hold and raise the other three fundamentals first.
Watching Shizuya's troubled expression, Aizen let out a laugh that was almost—almost—pleased.
As if watching a student struggle was its own kind of entertainment, he stood and spoke softly.
"Prepare well, Shizuya-kun."
"I look forward to your performance."
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