“You mean…
you’re planning to deal with Furunji?
No, wait…”
Nanao immediately shook her head, rejecting her own conclusion before looking at Rin with widened eyes.
“Don’t tell me…
you’re planning to go after the noble family behind him?”
The thought sounded so absurd that she almost laughed.
“Haha…
that’s impossible.”
Yet Chigusa didn’t laugh.
He simply sat quietly, pouring tea into his cup with unhurried movements, as though time itself had slowed around him.
His silence only made Nanao feel increasingly uneasy.
“No way…
you’re actually thinking about taking revenge against that noble family?”
Chigusa calmly took a sip of tea before speaking.
“Little Nanao, don’t you think that some of the noble families in Seireitei have become a little too excessive?
They resort to unreasonable methods over the slightest conflict of interest.
This is Shin’ō Academy, the institution established to nurture future Shinigami for the Gotei Thirteen under the authority of the Head Captain.
Since when has it become a place where nobles can casually display their influence and suppress others?”
His words caused Nanao to fall silent.
Although she had been born into the Ise Clan, one of Soul Society’s noble priestly families, she herself had never truly enjoyed the privileges associated with noble status.
The traditions of the Ise Clan were different.
From childhood, she had been taught that power existed to uphold duty rather than satisfy personal desires.
Even so, she had witnessed other noble families abusing their authority more than once, and each time, she had found it difficult to accept.
Only now, after hearing Rin’s words, did she realize just how relentlessly some nobles squeezed the already limited opportunities available to ordinary souls from Rukongai.
The realization left her both unsettled and confused.
“Of course, Nanao, you don’t need to worry.”
“As far as I know, the Ise Clan is a very special family.
Few people would dare provoke you without good reason.”
“And besides…”
“You’ve never used your family’s influence for personal gain.
More than anything, you’ve always wanted to become a respectable Shinigami.”
He smiled gently.
“I’m not saying all of this because I’m actually planning to do something.”
“I simply wanted to be honest with you for once.”
“Haven’t you always wondered why I deliberately hide my talent for Kidō?”
Nanao’s attention immediately shifted.
That question had puzzled her for years.
“It’s because I want to protect myself.”
“A genius with obvious weaknesses is often easier to manipulate than an ordinary person.
To those powerful figures in Seireitei, someone like that can easily become nothing more than a useful pawn.”
“And once you’re dragged into their schemes, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive.”
“I’d rather quietly continue growing until one day I possess enough strength to change something.”
After everything he had said earlier, Nanao naturally associated his concerns with several influential noble families, especially the notoriously overbearing Tsunayashiro Clan, one of the Five Great Noble Clans.
She couldn’t help frowning.
That family had long been infamous for coercing or enticing talented individuals into serving them.
From that perspective, Rin’s concerns were completely understandable.
What she didn’t know was that the person Chigusa feared most was not the Tsunayashiro Clan.
It was Sōsuke Aizen.
As the Lieutenant of the Fifth Division, Aizen occasionally visited Shin’ō Academy to substitute for various classes, even demonstrating his Zanpakutō’s Shikai before curious students.
To everyone else, it was a rare opportunity.
Many students admired him greatly.
Chigusa, however, deliberately kept his distance.
Although his memories from his previous life had become vague, he still remembered enough to know that Aizen represented one of the greatest dangers hidden within Soul Society.
More importantly…
Thanks to his unique ability to perceive life force, every time Aizen released Kyōka Suigetsu, Chigusa instinctively felt that something about it was deeply unnatural.
Unfortunately, despite observing it several times, he had never discovered exactly what was wrong.
Nor did he intend to tell anyone.
If Aizen truly was hiding something, exposing his suspicions recklessly might only alert the enemy.
On the other hand, if his memories were mistaken, then accusing such a respected lieutenant would simply slander an innocent man.
Either possibility carried unacceptable consequences.
Although Nanao excelled academically and possessed outstanding judgment for her age, she remained a student.
Many of her perspectives were still somewhat idealistic.
Chigusa’s explanation opened an entirely new way for her to view the world.
For a long while, she found herself unable to say anything.
Rin smiled before quietly pouring her another cup of tea.
“Besides, even if I truly wanted revenge…”
“It certainly wouldn’t be now.”
“Once I become a member of the Gotei Thirteen in the future, opportunities will naturally present themselves.”
“Oh, right.”
“Since you’re already here, I have one more favor to ask.”
“About the medicinal cuisine…”
“If anyone asks, simply tell them that you were helping verify its effectiveness and that we’ve decided to stop selling it.”
“That alone would help me tremendously.”
Nanao immediately understood what he intended.
If she publicly distanced herself from the business, outsiders would naturally believe the matter had ended.
Without hesitation, she nodded.
“No problem.”
“It’s only a small favor.”
After that, neither of them mentioned the matter again.
Instead, they began discussing Kidō.
Although Nanao’s Kidō was already considered exceptional among the academy’s students, the difference between them was difficult to describe.
It was like an examination worth one hundred points.
Nanao achieved a perfect score because one hundred was the highest possible mark.
Chigusa achieved one hundred because the examination itself could not measure beyond that limit.
His countless theories regarding Kidō structure, Reishi control, and spell optimization benefited Nanao tremendously.
Not to mention…
He was constantly researching and creating entirely new Kidō techniques.
Naturally, Nanao possessed strengths of her own.
As the successor of the Ise Clan, she had access to numerous ancient texts and hidden records unavailable to ordinary students.
Many of those rare pieces of knowledge greatly broadened Chigusa’s understanding and significantly accelerated his own research.
Before long, the disturbance caused by the destroyed garden quietly disappeared.
Shortly after Nanao publicly announced that the medicinal cuisine would no longer be sold, all the hidden undercurrents surrounding the matter immediately subsided.
The remainder of their fifth year at Shin’ō Academy passed peacefully.
However, such a seemingly insignificant incident still attracted the attention of several important figures.
Among them were Captain Retsu Unohana of the Fourth Division, Captain Shunsui Kyōraku of the Eighth Division because of Nanao, and Lieutenant Sōsuke Aizen of the Fifth Division.
Each viewed Chigusa’s actions differently.
While carefully arranging flowers, Unohana softly murmured,
“He still lacks a little courage.”
Even the flower arrangement she completed that day carried an unusually sharp atmosphere, as though silently reflecting her thoughts.
Meanwhile, Kyōraku laughed while leisurely drinking sake.
“Interesting.”
“Very interesting.”
“I originally became curious because of little Nanao.”
“I never expected this young man to be quite so unusual.”
Moments later, his expression became slightly more serious.
“Still…”
“I can’t allow him to lead little Nanao astray.”
A thoughtful glimmer flashed through his eyes, as though he had already made a decision.
Among the three, Aizen remained the calmest.
When the report reached him, he happened to be practicing calligraphy.
Even after hearing everything, his brush never paused.
Only after completing the final stroke did he gently set the brush aside, dry the ink, and smile faintly.
“Is it merely my imagination…”
“Or are you truly hiding something, Chigusa Rin?”
“I hope our next meeting proves more interesting.”
Although several influential figures had begun paying attention to him, Chigusa’s daily life remained largely unchanged.
Only one event truly mattered.
The day one of his carefully cultivated spiritual plants finally reached maturity, the Asauchi he had carried for years at last responded to his soul and transformed into his own Zanpakutō.
Its blade appeared no different from any ordinary Zanpakutō.
However, its tsuba possessed a simple wood-grain pattern, while the scabbard was a deep brown that felt warm to the touch, like ancient spiritual timber.
Ordinarily, awakening one’s Zanpakutō was a joyous occasion.
After all, possessing a true Zanpakutō meant he had fulfilled one of the academy’s graduation requirements.
Yet Chigusa remained unusually calm.
He knew very well that countless Shinigami spent their entire lives without ever achieving Shikai.
Among those who mastered Shikai, only an exceedingly small number would ever awaken Bankai.
Compared to that distant goal, merely obtaining a Zanpakutō was hardly worth celebrating too early.
So, after quietly examining it for a moment, he simply returned to his daily routine.
As he continued tending his plants and conducting his research, the newly awakened Zanpakutō gently swayed against his waist with every step.