I Really Did Try to Fit In

Dōsan held out his arms while Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko dressed him in voluminous noble attire. The Shiba Clan crest was embroidered on the shoulders as well, but they covered it with white silk, afraid Dōsan would stand out too much.

He also wore none of the ornaments that symbolized noble status, such as the Kenseikan or the Ginpakukazahana no Uzuginu.

Although the Shiba Clan didn't mind, they were worried that little brother Dōsan would be bullied at school.

"Little brother Dōsan, some nobles are really awful, so remember this: if anyone bullies you, beat them within an inch of their life."

"As for going to school, pay attention to the following points."

Ganju put on an air of authority, holding a pointer and a book and wearing glasses with lenses a finger thick as he guided Dōsan through the matter.

Over the past three days, Teacher Kūkaku and Teacher Ganju had done a lot of homework to keep Dōsan from being bullied at school.

Dōsan had been listening earnestly, but now sweat began to bead on his forehead.

Going to school is way too scary!

If he met a pretty female classmate, he shouldn't look at her too much, or it could cause trouble between classmates.

If he met an ugly classmate, he shouldn't look at them too much, or it could cause trouble between classmates.

If a teacher asked a question, he shouldn't be too eager to answer, or it could cause trouble between classmates.

If a teacher asked a question, he shouldn't be too reluctant to answer, or it could cause trouble between teacher and student.

By the time Dōsan left the Shiba Clan home, his legs had nearly turned to jelly from fright. Was going to school really that scary?

Finally, Ganju also slipped Dōsan a copy of The Art of Language, which Ganju had coauthored with another, not especially important writer on sociology.

Dōsan set off, feeling somewhat nervous.

As Dōsan went farther away, gears in the shadows of the Shiba Clan house began turning wildly, making a clacking sound.

Standing at the highest point with a pipe between her teeth, Kūkaku smiled smugly. "Little brother Dōsan will probably be surprised the next time he sees us."

Boom!

With an earthshaking roar, the Shiba Clan house rose from the ground.

"Kakaku Cannon, fire!"

By the time Dōsan reached the admissions office of the Shin'ō Academy of Spiritual Arts, more than five hundred people were already standing ahead of him.

"Rukongai commoners in the first line, nobles in the second. No matter who you are, unless you're from one of the Five Great Noble Clans, get in line."

A teacher in charge of discipline stood in the middle of the lines, calling out instructions.

There were quite a few people, but neither line was very long. From the back of the line, Dōsan craned his neck slightly to watch the admissions process.

"Reiatsu level insufficient."

"Soul-body stability insufficient."

"Extremely poor mental fortitude. Unable to handle the corresponding Soul Reaper training."

Things were moving quickly, especially compared with the nobles' line, where family connections and postgraduation plans also had to be examined.

In the commoners' line, someone was eliminated almost every ten-odd minutes.

The commoner applicants farther back grumbled from time to time. In the tense atmosphere, Dōsan's calves began to cramp slightly.

"Um, are you a noble?"

Dōsan turned to see a young boy with purple hair. The boy was nervous too, sweat beading on his forehead and his lips trembling. One side of his face bore a faint scar, and the number "69" was tattooed on the other.

Isn't this exactly the kind of delinquent Mr. Ganju told me about?

What am I supposed to do when I meet a delinquent?

Damn it, I studied all this!

Dōsan nervously touched No Cause at his waist, then raised a hand in a stiff greeting like a robot.

"Hello, my name is Dōsan Hanyū. I'm not a delinquent—no, I mean, I'm not a noble."

Seeing Dōsan like this, the purple-haired boy became nervous in turn and stumbled over his words. "I'm Shūhei Hisagi. You were dressed so splendidly that I thought you were a noble."

I remember this lesson.

[Keep your status as close to your classmates' as possible.]

"No, no, not at all. I'm just an ordinary wandering soul."

Dōsan raised a white eyebrow, and his gentle smile put Shūhei considerably more at ease.

"Your sword is beautiful."

Dōsan's sword retained the form of a straight black blade. Given Soul Society's current low level of production, No Cause was undoubtedly a work of art in the eyes of an ordinary wandering soul.

"Thank you. It's just an ordinary sword, though. Um, I bought it for ten kan."

"Oh, where did you buy it?"

That's so cheap.

Shūhei knew about Zanpakuto, but he still couldn't tell them apart from ordinary swords. He only knew that Soul Reapers had them.

Shūhei was well-mannered and didn't touch it. His idol, Mr. Muguruma, seemed to have a cool sword like that too.

The two chatted back and forth like this. One was a boy from elsewhere who wanted to make friends, and the other had studied The Art of Language. Before long, they had grown familiar enough to talk about a few private matters.

"Dōsan, how talented are you? It feels like the elimination rate is really high!" Shūhei was worried. It hadn't been easy for him to come take the exam.

"My talent is pretty average, but I work hard all the time."

That was the truth, and Dōsan said it with complete confidence.

The two were having a pleasant chat, but someone else was getting frantic.

Mitsui-san.

He was the teacher in charge of the admissions site. Although he was called a teacher, he was merely an academy logistics worker with no notable noble status and insufficient strength to join the Soul Reapers' official ranks.

Earlier that day, Ōunabara Gen'ogorō, the vice principal of the Shin'ō Academy of Spiritual Arts and its current de facto administrator, had personally entrusted him with a task.

He was to bring a genius named Dōsan Hanyū into the academy ahead of time.

Who was Dōsan Hanyū?

Ōunabara Gen'ogorō had given Mitsui a picture.

There were two people in it, a man and a woman. Mitsui-san's gaze had immediately settled on the girl in the picture, not because he had mistaken her for someone else.

It was because the girl was Soi Fon, captain of the Second Division.

He had a copy of the photo too. It was the biggest scoop Seireitei Communication had published recently.

The male lead everyone had been buzzing about and searching for was actually still a student.

Vice Principal Ōuna had spoken to him personally, and with Captain Soi Fon's connection as well, Mitsui-san had searched the nobles' line until his eyes ached. After all, Seireitei Communication had made it perfectly clear,

That was until he spotted Dōsan Hanyū chatting in the commoners' line.

Oh, young master Dōsan, you really are a man of the people!

There wasn't much time left before his appointment with Teacher Ōuna. Mitsui-san came up behind Dōsan and waited silently with a smile for him to finish speaking.

Shūhei noticed the teacher first and hastily lowered his head respectfully. "Hello, Teacher."

Mitsui-san smiled and nodded to Shūhei, but when he saw Dōsan bowing to him as well, he hurriedly raised his hand in alarm.

"Young Master Dōsan, why are you waiting in line here too? Please come with me quickly. The vice principal is getting anxious from waiting."

Shūhei: An ordinary soul?

That's way too conspicuous.

Remembering Teacher Ganju's instructions, Dōsan shook his head gently. "I'd still like to go through the normal admissions process."

"Whew." Mitsui-san didn't mind much, and he kept smiling.

You just want to go through the motions for a bit of ceremony. I understand how you great nobles do things. The Shihoin Clan's princess did the same thing before.

Mitsui-san didn't hesitate for long. "Young Master Dōsan, your reiatsu exceeds the standard, and we haven't prepared the appropriate equipment here. You'll need to come with me."

At least I can get him out of this line.

Shūhei: Average talent?

Dōsan had no objection. He was even quite pleased with his own response. He really was fitting in.

After they had taken a couple of steps, Mitsui-san hesitated, then spoke again. "Due to the rules, Young Master Dōsan, your Zanpakuto may need to be placed under centralized custody."

Shūhei: An ordinary sword that cost ten kan?

Is this the world of Soul Reapers?

Shūhei, who had only just decided to enroll, had already learned a lesson and seen the darkness of this world.

It's so dark!

Mitsui-san understood these young masters all too well. Not a single step of the examination process could be skipped. No matter how pressed for time they were, everything that ought to be done had to be done.

But they could cut corners on other things, such as rechecks and filling in the results, to save time.

Staff members carried out the examinations one after another.

"Dōsan Hanyū, Sixth-Class Reiatsu."

Sixth grade, huh? Judging from the data, it's also toward the upper end of sixth grade, a little inferior to the previous genius, Gin Ichimaru.

That was quite good. Captain-level Soul Reapers and the more outstanding lieutenants were almost all at this level.

Of course, seventh-grade reiatsu had surely appeared in the Thirteenth Division as well, but those people had no need to study at the Shin'ō Academy of Spiritual Arts, so Gin Ichimaru's reiatsu was the highest the academy had recorded to date.

Dōsan Hanyū's reputation preceded him, so the few of them had been prepared for this result.

Then came the final test.

The examiner suddenly broke out in a sweat, his pupils losing focus. "Um, Young Master Dōsan, Mr. Mitsui, there may be a slight malfunction with our equipment."

Idiot.

Couldn't you just gloss over it and move on?

After stealing another glance at the time, Mitsui-san spoke through gritted teeth, forcibly suppressing his anger. "Hurry up and change the equipment."

The staff hurriedly got the equipment ready and tested Dōsan again for that item.

The same result left them all standing there in a daze.

"Move."

Mitsui-san shoved the researcher beside him aside.

No one had ever been held up by the final test. Mitsui-san leaned over and saw the result on the display.

[Dōsan Hanyū, soul age: seven]

"Impossible. Get up, let me do it."

Afraid of leaving Dōsan with the impression that he was overbearing, Mitsui-san held back and kept himself from losing his temper again.

Soul age was counted from zero after being reborn in Soul Society. A spirit body generally only became stable at the age of ten, when its reiatsu talent could also become fixed. Only then could it withstand high-intensity Soul Reaper training.

With Sixth-Class Reiatsu at seven years old, all his Reishi would have been worn away. How could he still be alive?

Mitsui-san operated the instrument skillfully and looked at the result again. Sweat streamed down his forehead.

I said we shouldn't check, and now look what happened.