I Barely Know You

"Lord Ginrei, you may go in now."

Aizen stepped down from the auditorium and paid his respects to the veteran Soul Reaper.

"We ran six minutes over, Sōsuke. This is the first time I've known you to be late." The head of the Kuchiki Clan, the most senior of the Five Great Noble Clans' heads, spoke quite gently.

"My deepest apologies. Seeing the children below reminded me of my younger self." Aizen's humble smile held a trace of bitterness and reminiscence.

"Time..." Aizen's words caught Kuchiki Ginrei's attention, and he opened his weary eyes.

Now, he felt as though he could reach out and grasp the passage of time. "There's no need to apologize, Aizen. I'll go up now."

Aizen bowed, and the two passed each other.

Yet Ginrei slowed his pace, only moving forward again once Aizen had disappeared from sight.

Ginrei was from the same era as Yamamoto, and he had met far too many people.

But among the tens of thousands he had met, none had been more perfect than Aizen.

For some reason, a chill suddenly ran down Ginrei's spine, a chill that seemed capable of claiming his life.

Ōunabara Gen'ogorō was a thin, frail, bald old man. Standing there, he looked so stern that it was impossible to imagine what he would look like smiling.

There was a problem.

The instrument was fine. Dōsan Hanyū really was seven years old.

There was no need to think about responsibility for the moment. Neither the Tenth Division nor the Shiba Clan could be held accountable for an accident like this.

The biggest problem now was that a seven-year-old had Spiritual Pressure at the level of a 10th Seat or higher.

Would Dōsan's body suddenly collapse?

Even if his life was not in danger, would it affect his talent or something else that was hard to pin down?

And how should they handle things now?

Lord Aizen's class was already over, and Lord Ginrei's class was at its height.

From the Captain-Commander's perspective, Dōsan Hanyū's existence had been the boost that convinced him to make a grand affair of this recruitment. It was not only for Soul Society to see, but also for the nobles who had been speaking ill of the Soul Reapers in recent years.

And now Dōsan would not be attending?

The three captains had not prepared any additional "entertainment."

As vice principal, he had prepared quite a few things in accordance with Captain-Commander Yamamoto's instructions, but now they would all have to be put aside.

The Soul Reapers would not go so far as to risk harming a genius just to "show off."

Vice Principal Ōuna was worried sick, while Dōsan, beside him, was quite unconcerned.

Back when he was in Rukongai, Dōsan would never have dared dream of becoming a Soul Reaper.

He had never had any lofty ambition to uphold justice or preserve peace in Soul Society. He had simply wanted, very selfishly, to live a little better.

Besides that, perhaps even he did not know that he needed a sense of belonging.

He wanted to leave bonds of his own in this world that had borne no trace of his existence.

But now he had already found them.

No Cause began to tremble at his waist, responding to Dōsan for the first time since that life-and-death battle.

[Call... true name]

"Student Hanyū."

Ōuna's facial muscles were as stiff as a zombie's. Dōsan seemed able to hear the gentleness in his voice, but all his face did was twitch slightly twice.

"Please come with me. You heard the gist of it just now. Make sure you don't use your Spiritual Pressure for the time being. I'll submit a request to the Thirteenth Division shortly. They should be able to send a medical team to handle this today."

Dōsan Hanyū's problem was quite serious.

Leaving Dōsan's background and talent aside, Ōuna would have submitted a request for him even if he had been an ordinary student.

Meanwhile, back at the admissions office, Mitsui-san listlessly coordinated the remaining registration work.

He did not know whether what he had done today counted as an achievement or a mistake.

But there was one important point: he seemed to have shown a certain amount of impatience when dealing with Dōsan earlier.

Damn it.

Standing expressionlessly at the front of the line, Mitsui-san pinched his thigh hard. He had really lost his composure.

He had been under too much pressure from the three captains. Otherwise, how could he have so easily missed such a good opportunity to curry favor?

"Mr. Mitsui." A staff member leaned close and whispered in his ear.

Mitsui-san nodded. It was nothing special; they had simply filled the enrollment quota.

Leaving aside the teaching staff at the Shin'ō Academy of Spiritual Arts, even the number of Asauchi was limited.

Naturally, there was a quota for admissions every year. That was an established practice.

It was a pity for the students at the back of the line.

But judging by your attitude, you weren't as driven as the students at the front.

Boring.

Mitsui-san stood up. Next came the usual platitudes, and rather than waste time here, he might as well think about how to curry favor with young master Hanyū.

But as he stood and turned his head, a single glance made Mitsui-san stare.

"Our deepest apologies, Mr. Hisagi. Your mental fortitude does not currently meet the requirements of our Shin'ō Academy of Spiritual Arts."

The staff member was quite apologetic, bowing repeatedly.

Shūhei Hisagi looked lost and helpless. His body tipped backward beyond his control, and he took a step back.

He had prepared and worked so hard for so long, only to get this result. At his young age, he could hardly bear it.

Still, it was true. Shūhei Hisagi smiled self-deprecatingly. His composure really was too poor.

"Sorry for the trouble." Shūhei Hisagi bowed with a vacant stare, then turned to leave.

Given his age and experience, this setback would stay with him for a while.

"Wait." Mitsui-san trotted over to Shūhei Hisagi and waved the staff member away.

"You are..."

He remembered that this was the man who had taken Dōsan Hanyū away. He seemed to have considerable authority, and Shūhei Hisagi's eyes lit up with hope.

After stopping Shūhei Hisagi, Mitsui-san cursed himself again. If he had not glanced over without thinking, and if the boy had not had such distinctive features, he would almost have missed him too.

Mitsui-san spoke respectfully, with a hint of flattery. "Young man, may I ask if you know young master Dōsan Hanyū?"

Just as I thought...

Shūhei Hisagi gave a bitter smile. However much he wanted to enter the Shin'ō Academy of Spiritual Arts, he would not stoop so low as to disgrace himself like that. "I'm sorry, Dōsan Hanyū and I only just met."

Afraid the man might misunderstand, Shūhei Hisagi added, "We just happened to be together in line."

They only just met...

Mitsui-san was a little disappointed. "All right, then. Yamada, take this..."

Mitsui-san waved a staff member over, then looked at Shūhei Hisagi again.

Shūhei Hisagi understood. His heart began to race, and his lips went dry. "My name is Shūhei Hisagi."

"Oh, Yamada, take Mr. Hisagi to the new students' classroom." Mitsui-san waved his hand, unwilling to spare Shūhei Hisagi another glance.

Although this Shūhei Hisagi and Mr. Hanyū might belong to two different worlds in the future,

what if they didn't?

Many students from his own class, whose talent had been equal to or even greater than his, had been unable to join the ranks of the Soul Reapers after graduation and had all become retainers to lower-ranking nobles.

Why had he, with no one to rely on, been able to stay at the academy and even have more than a dozen people under him?

It never hurt to make a few extra preparations.

In the third-year classroom, the third lesson, Captain Soi Fon's flower-arranging class, began.

It did not matter whether anyone could arrange flowers. With a captain there, all the students needed to do was applaud.

Soi Fon's attention was also on the Spiritual Pressure of the students below. Only two were worth noting, or even passable.

The most talented was a blonde girl dressed in a conspicuously unconventional manner.

The Stealth Force was also responsible for protecting nobles, so she knew the head of a Kasumioji Clan branch family.

In time, the girl would reach at least Vice-Captain-level, but unfortunately, she would probably join the Sixth Division.

The bowl-cut student beside her also had the potential to reach Seated Officer level.

As for the rest, one of them might get lucky and become a Soul Reaper, then survive a hundred years without dying in action and perhaps scrape their way to Seated Officer level.

Compared with Dōsan, they were like fireflies beside the Big Bang.

"Reporting in."

A familiar voice rang out at the door. The students all turned to look at this audacious latecomer, then, as if by agreement, pulled out their copies of Seireitei Communication, their eyes darting back and forth between Captain Soi Fon and the boy.

Soi Fon, of course, knew the latest headline.

There was no way she could avoid knowing about it when the same illustration had been used for more than ten consecutive issues.

Seeing the students' little eyes shining, Soi Fon inexplicably began to flush, the redness rising from her pale neck. Steam poured from her orifices, her snake braids bobbed behind her, and her hands clenched the hem of her clothes.

I barely know him, I barely know him, I barely know him.

Dōsan scratched his head in bewilderment, thinking the young captain had not heard him. With dozens of eyes in the class on him, he was also a little embarrassed. "Reporting in."

"I barely know you."