You're Strong, Sir, but My Art Style Is Above Yours!

Thirteenth Division

This division was responsible for "purification"—in other words, cleanup afterward, clearing karmic sins and other miscellaneous tasks. It was supposed to be a cushy post, though the work itself was tedious.

But the captain of the Thirteenth Division—Fujitora Shijuro—was somewhat different.

He had been frail and sickly since childhood. Though powerful, he rarely acted personally, and he could not work for extended periods either, or his health would collapse.

As it happened, Jushiro himself was exceptionally kind, treating both friends and subordinates with considerable gentleness.

These two factors combined meant that within the Thirteenth Division, seated officers often held greater authority. They could handle minor matters themselves without reporting them upward.

The Vice-Captain, in particular, could practically run half the division. While Fujitora Shijuro was recuperating, their authority and responsibilities were almost no different from the captain's.

After all, every captain was a formidable figure with a distinct personality and overwhelming strength. To them, Vice-Captains were merely clerks who handled miscellaneous affairs. A special case like the Thirteenth Division was exceedingly rare in the entire history of Soul Society.

Given that background, the Vice-Captain position naturally drew considerable attention, especially from the great noble houses.

After all, Bankai was simply too difficult. Outside the Four Great Noble Clans, almost no family could produce multiple Captain-level powerhouses.

Compared to the unattainable Captain-level, there were relatively more scions of noble families at the Vice-Captain level.

If someone could become Jushiro's Vice-Captain, the influence that brought would absolutely ensure their family name did not decline for a century.

And there happened to be a small matter at present.

Fujitora Shijuro's current Vice-Captain was already quite old. Years of overwork, compounded by old injuries, had left him unable to bear the burden any longer. At some point, rumors began circulating that he would soon retire.

The Third and Fourth Seats in the Thirteenth Division were not particularly outstanding figures, and they would likely struggle to manage the division in Fujitora Shijuro's place. Thus, Captain-General Yamamoto intended to transfer a capable person from elsewhere to assist him.

The news spread swiftly through the Seireitei, stirring countless undercurrents in the shadows...

But Ivan had never imagined that he himself would be struck by the waves it raised.

"She didn't tell you? The people above think highly of her right now. They intend to transfer Yuki Aizen to the Thirteenth Division as either the Third or Fourth Seat." Saito smiled drunkenly. "You could say she's making a name for herself."

"I've never heard of that..."

Iori frowned deeply. "Is that true? My sister is still only a student. She hasn't even graduated yet. Jumping directly from Candidate Shinigami to a seated officer is far too big a leap."

"She could have graduated long ago, couldn't she? I've never met her myself, but I've heard people talk about her. They say she's a rare genius. Hic!"

Saito exhaled and continued, "According to the rumors, it seems the Vice-Captain of the Thirteenth Division personally requested it."

Iori looked up in surprise. "That happened?"

"I don't know the details, but it had something to do with an exam... Oh, don't upper-year students at the Spirit Art Academy have practical training?

That Vice-Captain was serving as an examiner when something went wrong at the training grounds. Besides the weak Hollows, several unusual ones slipped in and killed quite a few students.

Fortunately, your sister was in that examination hall. Not only did she complete her own objective, she also took down the special Hollows, ending the accident in time and preventing the disaster from growing worse."

Saito rubbed her chin. "If things had blown up, the Vice-Captain serving as examiner would have had to take responsibility. Naturally, he had to thank Aizen Souyuki afterward...

Who knows what he was thinking? It seemed he took a liking to your sister at first glance and strongly recommended that she join the Thirteenth Division, even insisting on promoting her to a seated officer as an exception.

From the look of it, he wanted to train her as his successor.

This caused quite an argument among the higher-ups. But seated officer appointments had always been decided by the captains. After Jushiro saw your sister, he seemed to admire her as well, so no one else could say much."

"So that's how it was." Iori nodded. He had been surprised at first, but on second thought, there was nothing strange about it.

It's only a seated officer position, isn't it?

My sister has the bearing of a Soul King!

Regardless of whether Yuki or Iori had inherited the role of "Aizen," Yuki's talent was indisputable. At present, she even surpassed Iori by a notch. Let alone becoming a seated officer, she could probably take on the role of Vice-Captain directly and handle it with ease.

"But what does that have to do with me being ambushed?" Iori still did not understand. "Those upper-year students were mediocre. They couldn't possibly be Yuki's competitors."

"Of course they weren't qualified!"

Saito said disdainfully, "They're just young masters raised in comfort. They ambushed someone and still didn't dare draw real blades. What future could trash like that possibly have?

If it were me, I wouldn't care about the consequences. If I ran into you on the road, I'd pull out my sword and stab you to death!"

"...If I encountered people like you, I definitely wouldn't leave anyone alive either," Iori shot back. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully."

"Hahahaha! That's why I like you, kid! What a waste that you weren't born eight hundred years ago!"

Saito laughed heartily. After a long while, she finally stopped to catch her breath, craning her neck as she tried to pour the last few drops from the bottle into her throat. Only then did she speak unhurriedly.

"There really is someone who wants to compete for it. I think he's from some noble family. He currently serves as the Third Seat in the First Division... Everyone knows how things are in the First Division. The captain and Vice-Captain positions have remained unchanged for a thousand years. Old man Yamamoto and his right-hand man will never step down, so anyone below them who wants a promotion has to transfer divisions.

That Third Seat is pretty capable. By rights, after transferring to the Thirteenth Division, he could wait a few years for the old Vice-Captain to retire and naturally take his place. But who would have thought a female student would suddenly appear out of nowhere?"

"The people who attacked me... were sent by the Third Seat? To target Yuki?"

"Think bigger. Someone who can become Third Seat wouldn't do something that low-class. Especially under old man Yamamoto—if he were an idiot, he would have been cleared out long ago. Shubaku would never let someone of poor character get close to the Captain-General."

Saito curled her lip. "Those people were probably just trying to curry favor with the Third Seat. Attacking your sister directly would make the connection too obvious and damage his reputation instead, so they set their sights on you."

"If something happened to me, Yuki might lose control emotionally and do something foolish. Then she'd naturally lose her chance at promotion, right?"

"Smart." Saito curled her lip. "The Seireitei is getting more and more corrupt. Connections are layered upon connections. A mere seated officer position has attracted so much attention. Everyone is focused on schemes and infighting, and their strength is declining with each generation. If another wave of Quincy invades, they'll all die!"

"I never expected... to be treated as Aizen Souyuki's 'weakness'..."

Iori suddenly felt like laughing.

So in most people's eyes, the siblings revolved around the older sister, while he truly was just a "younger brother."

That's irritating.

"So then, has my sister definitely decided to join the Thirteenth Division?"

"There's one small problem. Although Jushiro and the Vice-Captain recommended her, your sister is still just a student in the end. Including Captain-General Yamamoto, people generally aren't fully reassured. After all, this position might mean succeeding the Vice-Captain someday and assisting Jushiro. They need someone reliable and capable."

Saito tried to remember. "It seems old man Yamamoto gave your sister a test. In a few days, during the Spirit Art Academy Festival, she must win first place in the grand prize competition, then take the stage and display her Shikai to everyone.

They won't require her to explain her ability, since that would be against the rules. But at the very least, she must show that she can release her Zanpakuto.

After all, it's only the Fourth Seat position. With Shikai and an outstanding record, no one would have anything to say... Hm? What's wrong with you?

Why do you look like, 'You people are courting death'?"

"Nothing. I was merely struck by a sudden feeling. Please don't mind me."

Iori smiled subtly, his mood inexplicably brightening.

Having Yuki display her Shikai before the entire Thirteenth Division? What a genius idea!

Brothers and sisters of the Seireitei, good luck!

But he would not be joining in on something so wonderful!

Kurotsuchi Mayuri, Open the Door!

After staying up all night and getting drunk, Iori naturally was not in great shape when class began the next day. His haggard appearance was obvious, worrying quite a few classmates close to him, but he brushed them all off.

The instructor responsible for Kido lessons noticed as well, but merely frowned before ignoring it. He was rather displeased inwardly.

Dark circles, bloodshot eyes—one look made it obvious the boy had spent the whole night doing something reckless. Though he did not know exactly what, showing so little restraint at such a young age, what future could he possibly have?

The instructor had originally thought highly of Iori. He too came from the Soul Society, had neither influence nor backing, and possessed only average talent. He had made it this far entirely through his own efforts. He understood exactly how much sweat commoner students had to shed to rise above their circumstances, so he had always regarded the high-achieving Iori differently.

But today, Iori had gone too far. The boy who had once been so diligent and disciplined had merely won one duel and received a few compliments, yet he was already acting like he had lost all sense of direction. What a disappointment!

As a Bleach, one had to remain vigilant at all times and never let any temptation cloud one's eyes. Without persevering in one's efforts, how could one ever close the gap with the children of noble families?

With a feeling of frustration at seeing someone fail to meet expectations, when it was Iori's turn to demonstrate during that day's Kido practice, the instructor deliberately emphasized his name and assigned him the hardest problem among all the students.

"Sōkatsui? Isn't that Kidō #33, something only fourth-years learn?"

The students of his year looked up in shock at Iori as he walked into the target range. Many wore looks of either sympathy or schadenfreude.

Kido was divided into three types: destructive, binding, and healing. While there were roughly a hundred kinds of destructive and binding spells, in truth, due to the spiritual pressure they consumed, Kido above #60 was rarely seen and could only be mastered by Vice-Captain-level fighters.

Ordinary division members were considered elite if they could skillfully cast Kido in the forties or fifties. After all, everyone made their living with their Zanpakuto. Other than the Kido Corps, no one focused their training on it.

As for students... put simply, the Soul Reaper Academy's graduation requirement was to "master at least one Kido between #30 and #40, regardless of type."

In other words, the question the instructor had given Iori was about the equivalent of setting a college entrance exam problem for a middle school student—math, at that!

This was no longer merely beyond the curriculum. Anyone with eyes could see the instructor was trying to put Iori in his place.

"Ruler of the heavens, mask of flesh and blood, myriad things, fluttering wings, bearer of the name of man. Truth and temperance, upon this sinless wall of dreams stand only with claws and fangs..."

One convoluted line of incantation after another flowed from Iori's mouth. He spread his hands before him as the spiritual pressure gathered in his palms compressed in an orderly fashion amid mysterious fluctuations, underwent a qualitative change, and then a blinding crimson blaze was born in the air—

Kidō #33: Sōkatsui!

Before everyone's eyes, Iori not only completed the chant smoothly, but his spiritual pressure control was nearly flawless. A blazing flame formed in his palm, then shot forward amid surging wind pressure, expanding into a head-sized fireball that struck the target twenty meters away.

Boom!

The violent explosion snapped everyone back to their senses, and the students' eyelids twitched uncontrollably.

Only then did they remember that Iori was different from them. Kidō #33 might not be difficult for him at all...

The instructor's expression softened somewhat. He saw things more clearly—Iori's chant had not only been fluent, but his grasp of the fine details in spiritual pressure flow was incredibly smooth. The incantation was only guidance; what mattered was how one controlled spiritual pressure.

Clearly, Iori had practiced for quite some time. Otherwise, he could never have cast that Kido.

Considering Iori's usual humility and his outstanding performance in Zanpakuto, Hakuda, Kido, and Hoho, all of which ranked among the best, the instructor sighed inwardly.

This is talent... It really is frustrating.

"Good. You passed that one. Next are two low-level Kido."

The instructor no longer made things difficult for Iori and changed the next two questions to ordinary difficulty.

"Let's see... Floating Fire, #11, and White Lightning, #4."

White Lightning?

Iori truly was exhausted at the moment. He had chatted wildly with Saito for so long the night before, and it had been his first hangover in this life. Then he had rushed here without pause in the morning to take the test. His spiritual pressure was still plentiful, but both his mind and body had reached a certain degree of fatigue.

Now that he heard White Lightning, a low-level destructive Kido he knew extremely well, Iori, eager to return and sleep, did not hesitate. He immediately raised his hand, pressed two fingers together, and released a brilliant flash of lightning that struck the target like a twisting silver serpent.

"..."

Hm?

The entire room suddenly fell silent. Iori glanced around in confusion, and only then did his alcohol-numbed brain slowly realize what had happened.

"He discarded the chant!"

"When did he learn that? Isn't he from a commoner background?"

"B-but that power... That's impossible!"

Iori's eye twitched as he realized that his performance had drawn too much attention.

"Everyone..."

Just as he was about to explain that White Lightning was the only low-level destructive Kido whose chant he could omit, a broad hand landed on his shoulder.

"Go back and sleep!"

Looking up, he found the instructor wearing an extraordinarily stern expression.

"A Bleach's lifespan is not as short as a human's. Your future is still long. There's no need to rush like this."

Why did he look so earnest? When had Iori been in a rush?

"A regular schedule is important too. Pulling all-nighters to practice Kido is absolutely forbidden from now on! Otherwise, not only will you exhaust your spiritual pressure, your body won't be able to endure it either!"

Iori said, "...Huh?"

"I understand. Where are there so many geniuses in this world? Isn't it all the result of ordinary people working a hundred times harder?

But method matters too. You must balance work and rest, understand?"

The instructor patiently lectured Iori in the tone of an experienced elder, while the young man's face remained filled with confusion.

A moment later, Iori finally understood.

Did they think he looked so haggard because he had been diligently practicing Kido?

This...

"Go back, eat a good meal, take a bath, and get a proper night's sleep. That is not a suggestion. It is an order!"

The instructor nodded at Iori approvingly, then announced to the students present that Iori would receive a day and a half off. He also told everyone to learn from Iori and not become complacent after achieving even the slightest success.

Look at him. Not only was he more talented than them, he even worked harder than them!

Though he did not say it outright, that was what he meant between the lines.