Stay Home and Nothing Happens

Time continued to pass.

Dōsan spent a peaceful period training in the secluded Shiba Hut.

During that time, Isshin and Rangiku also came to the Shiba residence to freeload for a few days.

Through grueling training of almost monstrous intensity, Dōsan made considerable progress in Hakuda, Shunpo, and Kidō.

Uncle Isshin also came by twice and gave Dōsan some basic instruction in Zanjutsu. Compared to the other three arts, Dōsan's Zanjutsu was nothing special; his talent for it was probably about the same as his talent for Shunpo.

With effort, he could still become proficient.

But compared to his terrifying progress in Kidō, the gap was enormous.

He could cast Kidō up to number fifty without an incantation, and combined with his Shunpo and Hakuda, the current Dōsan was fully capable of holding a Seated Officer position in a main combat division like the 11th Division.

It was worth remembering that Dōsan had only spent three weeks at most training his Spiritual Pressure so far.

There were now fewer than ten days left until this year's Shin'ō Academy of Spiritual Arts entrance exams.

Dōsan was training in isolation here.

But his name was spreading like wildfire among Soul Reapers, nobles, and even academy circles.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi's creation of an evolvable artificial soul from nothing, Nemu Number Seven, was the only major event in the past century of Soul Society's history comparable to the defection of Kisuke Urahara and the others.

Looking back over a thousand years, Nemu Number Seven was a landmark in Soul Society's history.

In other words, Nemu had lived in the spotlight and enjoyed everyone's attention since the day she was born.

The Artificial Soul experiment had a profound impact among the Soul Reapers. Not every Soul Reaper could accept that their teammate had become a Modified Soul, a sacrifice who could be thrown away at any time.

Nor could a small number of Soul Reapers accept that the product of an experiment, a sacrifice, enjoyed the exalted treatment given to a Soul Reaper.

Tenth Division representative versus Nemu Number Seven, Nemu Kurotsuchi.

The battle had attracted enormous attention.

And by the end of it, everyone knew about a boy who had yet to enter Shin'ō Academy.

Everyone had also heard that this boy would take part in this year's Shin'ō Academy of Spiritual Arts entrance exams.

Dōsan Hanyū.

Some were curious about the name, some refused to accept him, and others were jealous. As those with an agenda spread the word, Dōsan's name grew ever more famous.

But Dōsan, immersed in his grueling training at the Shiba residence, knew nothing of this.

"You haven't even seen Dōsan in twelve days and seventeen hours?"

"Our deepest apologies, Commander-in-Chief."

Soi Fon stood with both feet on a swaying branch, poised like a graceful peacock.

Her back turned, Soi Fon's haori fluttered in the wind. She waved a hand, and the squad members withdrew.

Could a normal soul go more than ten days without leaving his room?

That was doubtful.

"The Shiba Clan."

Soi Fon murmured the name and gazed into the distance, recalling the night of the defection.

She believed—no, from what she knew of that person, if that despicable Urahara had truly fallen so low, that person would definitely have stopped him at once, rather than cover his escape.

There were many suspicious points about Kisuke Urahara's defection.

In the eyes of Soi Fon and many of the captains, the masterminds were certain great nobles, the nominal rulers of the Seireitei.

"Damn nobles." Soi Fon tapped lightly on the wall.

It was a reasonable guess.

Dōsan Hanyū must have been imprisoned by those people of the Shiba Clan.

"Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief, Dōsan Hanyū's Spiritual Pressure has been detected in Rukongai," a Soul Reaper said, kneeling on one knee.

The moment the Soul Reaper finished speaking, he found that his captain was no longer in front of him. He turned his head and saw that she had already reached the entrance.

An instant later, the captain had almost vanished from his sight.

Cold sweat ran beneath the Soul Reaper's mask, and only then did Captain Soi Fon's voice reach his ears.

It came not from behind him, but from beside him.

With a simple start, Captain Soi Fon's Shunpo had already far surpassed the speed of sound.

"I'll go in person."

If Sister Kūkaku hadn't told him to get out and stretch his legs, Dōsan wouldn't have wanted to leave the house.

Of course, the main reason Big Sister Kūkaku had gone to this unnecessary trouble was that the Shiba Clan's stockpile of ingredients had run low.

The point wasn't that the ingredients had run low, but that the vegetables the Shiba Clan had stockpiled had actually lasted three weeks before running low.

At everyone's insistence, Dōsan agreed to come out and stretch his legs.

"Whew." Breathing in Soul Society's air after so long, Dōsan felt nothing special. On the contrary, it was a little stifling.

He had noticed it the last time he went out with Rangiku, but he hadn't paid much attention because he had important business to attend to.

Compared to the sparse Spiritual Power outside, the Spiritual Power in the Shiba Hut was like a place brimming with sweet dew.

Dōsan didn't have much he wanted to buy. He had never expected Sister Kūkaku to have wrung him dry in less than a month, leaving him with no new dishes.

The Shiba Hut still had some meat and eggs in stock, so Dōsan focused on buying leafy greens, which were also easy to carry.

It was cherry blossom season, and the flowers fell like rain, seeing summer to its grave.

Walking along a road carpeted with cherry blossoms, Dōsan seemed to come unconsciously to the vicinity of Kobayashi Izakaya, where she had once worked.

Dōsan didn't go in, only taking a quick glance.

Although it was only afternoon and he couldn't say for certain, Kobayashi Izakaya did have far fewer customers than when he had worked there.

And the rival establishment already had more than three times as many customers as Kobayashi Izakaya.

When Dōsan had worked at the izakaya, those numbers had been exactly reversed.

He shook his head and stopped thinking about it, but just as Dōsan was about to take a step, he paused.

In the direction the wind was blowing from, Dōsan saw that alley again.

That night, Dōsan had been experimented on by the Twelfth Division, then rescued by Auntie Rangiku.

Honestly, even now, Dōsan didn't know what everyone had seen in him.

Even now, Dōsan didn't think he was particularly gifted.

Working at the izakaya back then had been exhausting; even taking a long breath had been a luxury. But when he trained, he was even more exhausted than he had been at work, much more so.

When you still couldn't control your own fate, it was never wrong to do a little more.

Dōsan came to the familiar alley again. After his battle, the alley had been repaired and restored to its original state. Twenty days later, he had returned once more.

Dōsan smiled from the bottom of his heart. He was no longer the Dōsan of twenty days ago, and now, on the rooftops, there was no...

His smile gradually stiffened. His white brows drew into a straight line in puzzlement as he silently sensed the places where Auntie Rangiku and the others had watched him before.

Does this place have such good feng shui?

"There's Spiritual Pressure nearby? And it belongs to a Soul Reaper." Dōsan was stunned and silently cursed himself for not being careful enough. Who could have imagined it? He hadn't left the house in over ten days, yet the moment he stepped out of his room, someone had caught him.

What a coincidence?

Without showing anything, Dōsan turned around and headed back the way he had come, but he landed on the balls of his feet so he could use Shunpo at a moment's notice.

On the surface, though, Dōsan appeared leisurely. When he came across a vegetable stall, he even stopped and went over to ask the price.

All the while, Dōsan used his Spiritual Pressure, as well as his intuitive talent beyond Spiritual Pressure, to sense that inexplicable feeling of being watched.

After probing once or twice, Dōsan stopped hoping it was a fluke.

He quickened his pace slightly, then slipped into the stream of people.

The feeling of being watched vanished for an instant, but Dōsan didn't relax. Instead, he moved through the crowd like a nimble snake and came to an alley.

Dōsan spread his arms like a petrel facing wind and rain, then loosened his hands, letting two bags of ingredients fall straight down.

The instant the two large bags hit the ground, Dōsan moved like streaks of light. Dust puffed up beneath his feet, and he vanished from the wedding street in an instant.

Using Shunpo at full strength, Dōsan moved at high speed.

"Just as I thought, I really should stay at home."