Blade Zen, Shallow Strike, Communication

In the classroom, the Shinigami instructor at the podium was spitting as he spoke, lecturing on the history of the Soul Society.

From the glory of the royal family to the rise of the Five Great Noble Clans, and even the establishment of the Gotei 13, he even touched upon the war between Shinigami and the Quincy that took place centuries ago.

Even to this day, there are still Quincy wandering the world of the living.

Yet, at the back of the classroom, there was a rather strange scene.

More than ninety-nine percent of the students sat neatly in the front, listening intently to the teacher's instruction.

In the back of the room, several rows of seats were left empty, with two slightly thin figures sitting at separate desks.

One of them was listening attentively, no different from the other students.

The other had his head buried in the crook of his arm, seemingly having entered a state of hibernation.

The teacher at the podium noticed this as well, wanting to speak but holding back, eventually venting his pent-up frustration into the lesson, his voice growing several notches louder.

However, such commotion was like a lullaby to Kisaragi Akira.

As the powerful, resonant voice reached his ears, he...

Slept even more soundly.

Aizen glanced sideways at his bad-influence friend, a hint of helplessness flashing in his eyes.

Perhaps this was the true portrayal of "interest is the best teacher."

Ever since Kisaragi Akira sent Kaede Junya flying with a single strike during a kendo class, his quality of life had risen in a straight line.

Countless elite students witnessed his true strength and developed a deep-seated awe for him.

No matter where one goes, the strong are always respected.

The Shin'o Academy was no exception.

This news spread like wildfire, quickly reaching every corner of the Shin'o Academy.

Teachers, students, and even the Headmaster all knew that Class 1 had produced a true genius.

Having been enrolled for only a few months, he was already capable of thrashing instructors, and his spiritual pressure even exceeded that of an average Gotei 13 seated officer.

A genius beyond reproach: Kisaragi Akira.

Yet, this guy refused to play by the rules; while he chose to listen carefully during Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hoho, Kido, and practical combat classes, he would start snoring the moment cultural studies began, completely lacking the arrogance or attitude one would expect from a genius.

He spent his days laughing foolishly, and from time to time, unexpected ideas would pop into his head.

Such as raiding the Zhenyang cafeteria, tampering with disciplinary notices, or performing "exorcisms" for female students.

The key was that if he did it alone, it would be one thing, but every time he prepared to do something bad, he would drag Aizen along.

In Kisaragi Akira's words, good brothers share blessings and endure hardships together—with the latter being Aizen's burden.

Although Aizen didn't know where he heard such twisted logic, Kisaragi Akira always executed it with great rigor.

"That's all for today's lecture."

At the podium, the history teacher wore a stern expression.

Below the podium, Kisaragi Akira was bleary-eyed and disoriented.

"Is class over?"

"Our final exams are in one month. Although practical combat is the most important course for a Shinigami, cultural studies cannot be neglected either."

"If any student fails this exam, they will be given a major disciplinary mark and placed on academic probation!"

Hearing the word "disciplinary," Kisaragi Akira woke up with a jolt, then looked at Aizen beside him with a pitiful expression:

"Sosuke, we're good brothers, right?"

Aizen remained silent.

"You surely wouldn't have the heart to watch me fail the exam, right? Look, when the exam comes..."

Kisaragi Akira had moved to sit next to Aizen at some point, familiarly draping an arm over his shoulder, plotting a terrible idea as usual.

"The next class is Sword Meditation. You should think about how to complete the most basic Sword Meditation first."

Aizen rose from his seat and said calmly, "If I recall correctly, as of last night, you still haven't managed to complete the first step of Sword Meditation."

"Failing cultural studies is one thing, but if you cannot possess a Zanpakuto of your own, even if you graduate successfully, you won't be able to join the Gotei 13."

"Perhaps your only choice is the Kido Corps..."

Kisaragi Akira froze; the sudden backstabbing from his good brother left him heartbroken for a moment.

But at this point, he had no choice but to bite the bullet.

Although he didn't know the reason, he seemed to be fundamentally incompatible with his own Zanpakuto.

From the initial selection of the Asauchi to the current comprehension of Sword Meditation, even the worst students could vaguely sense the power of their Zanpakuto, yet he was unable to complete the most basic meditation.

Let alone unleashing the power of his Zanpakuto.

Isn't it said that Zanpakuto are forged using the soul of a Shinigami as a blueprint? Then why was he so fundamentally incompatible with his own soul?

Could it be that he was just a stubborn mule?

With a heart full of trepidation and doubt, Kisaragi Akira and Aizen arrived together at the Sword Meditation Dojo.

The spacious room was permeated with a Zen-like tranquility.

A faint, delicate fragrance lingered in the air, lulling one into a hazy, intoxicated state, making one feel as light as if they were ascending to the heavens.

This was the spiritual incense unique to the Sword Meditation Dojo, used to assist students who had just received their Zanpakuto, helping them enter the state of sword meditation more quickly so they could successfully commune with their blades.

Of course, this spiritual incense had little effect on those with a firm will.

Like Kisaragi Akira, and like Aizen.

The two sat cross-legged on cushions, assuming a meditative posture, and began their sword meditation.

Just like the other students nearby, Aizen quickly entered the state of sword meditation.

Only Kisaragi Akira was left scratching his head and fidgeting, as if he were covered in lice.

He was utterly baffled; why was it that even though he had done exactly as the teacher instructed, and even had Aizen pass on the relevant techniques, he still couldn't complete the most basic sword meditation?

Kisaragi Akira stared blankly at the blade resting flat across his knees.

The shape, ability, and state of a Zanpakuto are all forged based on the Shinigami's soul as a blueprint.

A Shinigami gains power by learning the name of their Zanpakuto and engaging in a dialogue of the soul with it.

To be precise, the blade before him could not yet be called a Zanpakuto; it should be called an Asauchi.

A Shinigami must live and sleep with their Asauchi, and through constant tempering, carve the essence of their soul into it, thereby creating their own unique Zanpakuto.

However, Kisaragi Akira only wanted to say that he understood the theory.

The problem was, how does one carve the essence of one's soul into a Zanpakuto?

It was like knowing that behind a door lay the Zhenyang cafeteria and the Zhenyang female dormitory—all one had to do was open the door and walk in to enjoy endless bliss.

But, how do you open the door?

Conventional methods of sword meditation were completely ineffective for Kisaragi Akira.

He crossed his arms, staring at his Asauchi with furrowed brows, countless thoughts flashing through his mind.

Damn it, even Mimihagi isn't this hard to communicate with...

Kisaragi Akira muttered fiercely, but just then, a flash of inspiration struck his eyes like lightning.

"Wait!"

"What if I tried communicating with the Zanpakuto the same way one communicates with a god?!"

At this thought, the gaze Kisaragi Akira fixed upon the blade across his knees burned with intensity!