Tachikawa's Transfer and Aizen's Success

"Boo-hoo... Captain Kurotsuchi was such a bastard! Nemu Number Seven respected him so much, and he killed her without a shred of mercy."

The blonde sitting in front of him hadn't stopped wiping her eyes. She had cried so much she was almost dehydrated, and she kept wiping her tears and snot on the bowl-cut student and Dōsan.

At his classmates' insistence, Dōsan had told them the story of himself and Nemu.

Of course, he had embellished it just a little.

"Yeah, Nemu Number Seven was ugly, but I never expected her to be so loyal."

"Kurotsuchi... that captain went too far. He killed Nemu Number Seven without a shred of mercy."

"I was planning to join the Twelfth Division after graduation, but not anymore."

"Right. Even if I have to go home and inherit my family's fortune of several million kan, I'm not joining the Twelfth Division."

Everyone was crying, men and women alike. The blonde in particular had cried so hard that her smooth golden hair had frizzed out.

Dōsan buried his face in his shoulder too. He felt he wouldn't fit in otherwise.

He was a little worried that he had gone too far. What if the Twelfth Division couldn't recruit anyone?

After all, he wasn't the sort to hold that much of a grudge, even if Kūkaku and the others had laughed at him about it for a whole week.

"Everyone, remember to tell the upperclassmen and underclassmen: cherish your lives and stay away from the Twelfth Division." Dōsan rubbed hard until the rims of his eyes turned red, his face glowing with sincerity.

"Don't worry. Hmph." The blonde rubbed her eyes, shook off some snot, and wiped her hand on the bowl-cut student's clothes. "I'm telling you, I don't care about the other classes, but if anyone in our class dares join the Twelfth Division, they're disrespecting me, Rizukihime."

"That's right, boss Rizukihime, big brother Dōsan! We'll be sure to pass this news down from generation to generation."

"And nobody's allowed to sell big brother Dōsan out!"

The students all chimed in.

Dōsan touched the little wolf tail at the back of his head and, for some reason, felt that school wasn't so bad after all.

"Is this the place? What if we've come to the wrong room? If we have, should we..."

"Come on, Isane, you're so long-winded! Can't we just go in and see?"

"Huh? Wouldn't that be a little rude? And Rangiku, those two behind you, stop pressing them against me."

"I just heard someone apparently talking about the Twelfth Division."

Three female voices—timid, hearty, and flat—mingled together. They weren't loud, but everyone in the class was a prospective Soul Reaper, so they naturally noticed.

Dōsan and the others turned their heads.

By the doorway, a head of orange hair poked out from behind the door without warning, like a gopher, then looked left and right for its target.

"Hey, Dōsan!" Her pale silver eyes blinked, and their classmates' gazes followed hers to Dōsan.

A tall, silver-haired woman shuffled sideways into the room right after her. Seeing so many eyes on her, she immediately bent over and bowed to everyone. "Hello, everyone, everyone..."

Rangiku.

The tall airhead.

And!

Accompanied by the creak of wooden sandals, Nemu swept her gaze around the room. When she saw Dōsan, she tilted her chin up slightly and gave him a distinctly mocking smile.

"Grr, grr..." Dōsan ground his teeth as though he were about to strike sparks, glaring resentfully at his lifelong enemy.

Beside him, Rizukihime was still looking around curiously, wondering where the strange sound was coming from.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Rangiku Matsumoto of the Tenth Division."

Seeing Isane still bowing beside her, saying, "I'm, I'm...," Rangiku pulled her over and tucked her under one arm. "This is Isane from the Fourth Division."

"I'm Nemu Kurotsuchi of the Twelfth Division."

Huh?

Wasn't Nemu Kurotsuchi dead?

What had happened to Nemu Number Seven went against normal ethics, so Seireitei Communication had never published a report on it. Only people on the inside knew about it.

As a result, they didn't know what Nemu Number Seven looked like, but a few of them knew her name was Nemu.

Rizukihime Kasumiōji naturally belonged to that small group.

"Nemu, wasn't she..." Rizukihime's eyes were still red.

"This is a clone, a replacement for her," Dōsan whispered, covering his mouth.

No need to say more. One sentence, and I knew what had happened.

The blonde kept filling in the details in her head, and her eyes instantly filled with tears again.

Nemu's eyelid twitched, and her gaze flickered. For an instant, she and Dōsan looked each other in the eye.

They each had the feeling the other was up to no good.

"Headmistress Ōuna sent us to give everyone a full-body examination," said Rangiku, the only social butterfly of the three.

As for why one person had turned into the whole class, the reason was naturally that the longer this took, the longer Rangiku could slack off.

A full-body examination?

The students looked at one another.

Injuries aside, Soul Reapers normally didn't get sick. If they did, it was a terminal illness. What was there to examine?

But the three of them were beautiful women, and Soul Reapers of considerable standing at that, so whatever they said went.

Rizukihime went first. She was notorious among the third-years, and if she didn't go first, no one else would dare.

Nemu didn't even move her head. Sitting in her seat, she looked straight ahead at Rizukihime's lower abdomen. "You're fine. You can go."

Rizukihime's golden hair bristled with anger. "You didn't even look at me! How do you know I'm fine?"

Nemu lifted her head slightly, glanced at Rizukihime's face for a second, then lowered it again. "You're fine. Next."

"Phew..." Rizukihime planted her feet apart, smoke practically coming out of her nostrils. She walked back, pausing with each step.

Do none of you take my Kasumioji Clan seriously?

That annoying Dōsan was right after all. There's no one decent in the Twelfth Division.

There was one advantage to having Nemu Kurotsuchi in charge of the first stage of the examination: not a single student lasted a second with her.

Are you treating patients or telling fortunes?

The students passed through Nemu's examination one after another, until at last it was Dōsan Hanyū's turn, still grinding his teeth.

Nemu still didn't look up. Beside him, Rizukihime chuckled. It would be the same as always anyway.

"There's something wrong with you. Come with us." Nemu stood up at once and moved to the side.

"Why? You didn't even lift an eyelid." Rizukihime was the one asking. Although having something wrong found in an examination didn't sound like a good thing, how could she, the head of a Kasumioji branch family, keep letting a newcomer steal the spotlight? "I'm from the Kasumioji Clan."

"Because you... have a heart."

Although she was speaking to Kasumiōji, her gaze and smile were directed at Dōsan.

Question: how do you offend two people in one sentence?

"Hey, Magaki, are you trying to dismantle the Twelfth Division?"

Kurotsuchi's white mask twisted. He wanted nothing more than to dismember the fool before him on the spot.

"What's there to worry about? They're all half-baked failures. You think I'm dismantling them to sell for scrap?" With a clatter, Tachikawa Magaki dismantled several experimental machines and put them into a space-folding container.

At those words, Akon and the others in the Twelfth Division felt their scalps go numb.

"You've got some nerve, little girl playing with toys. Do you want to become a zombie?"

Playing with toys.

Tachikawa turned her pale pink eyes to meet Kurotsuchi's gaze, and it was as though an electric current passed between them.

"A great scientist has no love, much less hatred. Both body and mind are devoted to great creations. At best, you're just like Kisuke Urahara, a second-rate hack."

"Tch." Tachikawa Magaki picked up the container, and a swish of pink hair covered her eyes.

Carrying the large container, Tachikawa strode past Kurotsuchi in a few steps. "I've left a record of the 'Zanpakuto modification' experiment in the Twelfth Division."

"Hah? Are you insulting me with the results of your half-baked experiment?"

"Use it or don't." Tachikawa held the large container up with one hand. When she reached the doorway, she stopped and waved at Kurotsuchi with her back to him. In the sunlight, all that remained of Tachikawa was a pink silhouette from behind.

"I'm leaving, Kurotsuchi, teacher."

[Jointly issued by the Central 46 Chambers and First Division headquarters: effective immediately, Tachikawa Magaki, Fifth Seat of the Twelfth Division, is appointed second lieutenant of the Thirteenth Division.]

Tachikawa Magaki was the head of the Tachikawa Clan, a high-ranking noble house, and its last surviving member. Given her distinguished status, the Soul Reapers weren't surprised that she had been appointed lieutenant.

What they did wonder was why Tachikawa Magaki had gone to be the second lieutenant of the Thirteenth Division when several divisions had lieutenant positions vacant, including the Twelfth Division itself.

Most Soul Reapers couldn't quite make sense of it, so they didn't bother trying.

Speaking of which, that man should be back from the World of the Living soon, shouldn't he?

He had published well-known works such as The Art of Language and Kaien Says.

The lieutenant of the Thirteenth Division, the current head of the Shiba Clan, Kaien Shiba.

The Fifth Division Barracks.

Gin Ichimaru followed Aizen, his lieutenant's badge already removed.

"Captain Aizen, it seems we've failed." Gin wore his trademark smile, making it impossible to tell how he felt.

As in previous years, the first day of school had been the easiest and most reasonable opportunity for Aizen to plant Kyōka Suigetsu.

But this year, Aizen had failed.

The reason Dōsan hadn't enrolled on time had also come to light.

It was just ridiculous luck.

After all, no matter how strange a Zanpakuto's ability was, it couldn't change its owner's age.

Even Aizen must have been disappointed and humiliated by such a result.

At the thought, the corners of Gin's mouth rose even higher.

Aizen, his back to Gin, didn't answer immediately. He hesitated for three seconds before turning his head. Light and shadow flickered across his lenses, keeping Gin from seeing his eyes clearly.

"No, I succeeded."