Shinigami Academy.
Inside the dojo.
Dozens of students sat solemnly on the wooden floor, neatly arranged Bamboo Swords laid out before them.
Having heard that a major figure would be coming today as a specially appointed instructor for their Kendo class, the students were especially grave. Even Renji, usually the most unreliable of them all, wore a serious expression.
This was a special lesson reserved for the elite students of Class One.
Oyunahara Genugoro, a bald middle-aged man, was explaining the precautions to the students, warning them not to make any mistakes during the upcoming lesson.
If they left a bad impression on that important figure, it would likely be difficult for them to make their way in Soul Society in the future.
Even joining the Gotei 13 would become quite troublesome then.
Perhaps that important figure would not care about such trivial matters, but their subordinates certainly would.
"How boring. Why is Instructor Genugoro saying such nonsense?"
After maintaining his proper attitude for only a few minutes, Renji slackened, his whole body taking on a lazy air.
He reached out and poked Toshiro Hitsugaya, who was sitting upright beside him, then whispered, "Hey, want to go have a fight at our usual spot later?"
"I doubt this so-called important figure can teach us anything useful."
Toshiro stared at his nose, his nose at his heart, showing no intention of responding to Renji. He looked every bit the model student.
Yet his suddenly furrowed brows betrayed his current mood.
Oyunahara Genugoro noticed this, and a long sigh rose from the depths of his heart. His originally stern expression took on a hint of melancholy.
Indeed, this was his two hundred thirty-ninth year as an instructor at the Soul Reaper Academy.
During that time, he had personally led countless classes, and