On the massive training grounds of the Shin’ō Academy, a sea of people had gathered.
Enduring the blistering sun, Haru Shimizu stood in the front row alongside the rest of the faculty.
The bratty boys in their white and blue uniforms and the cute girls in their white and red outfits were lined up in perfectly neat, orderly rows, listening to the elderly Headmaster’s speech from the podium.
The old man stepped forward and cleared his throat.
Gathering his Spiritual Pressure at his vocal cords, his magically amplified voice boomed across the field.
“I will now announce the top scores for the second-year class!
Kidō, First Place: Sōsuke Aizen!
Hakuda, First Place: Sōsuke Aizen!
Zanjutsu: Sōsuke Aizen!
Overall Academic Excellence: Sōsuke Aizen!”
Standing in the crowd, Sōsuke Aizen listened to the Headmaster announce his absolute sweep of the leaderboards.
He wore his usual gentle, humble smile, but internally, he felt absolutely nothing.
The gasps of awe from his classmates and the nods of approval from the teachers in the front row didn’t stir a single ounce of pride within him.
His pride did not lie in such trivial things.
He fundamentally didn’t belong to the same species as these noisy, chattering creatures around him.
He had always known he was special.
He was one in a million.
And he was utterly, suffocatingly lonely.
Growing up in the Rukongai, he had been tortured by a bottomless, gnawing hunger since childhood.
The adults had always told him that only those with the potential to become great Soul Reapers ever felt true hunger.
But he felt he was different even from those ‘great’ Soul Reapers.
When he first enrolled in the academy, he thought he had finally found a home.
He thought he would find his peers.
The reality only brought deeper disappointment.
The Kidō spells that others agonized over and failed to grasp, he could master with a single glance.
His Spiritual Pressure multiplied endlessly with every breath he took.
The only thing restricting him wasn’t a lack of talent, but a lack of status.
He wasn’t a noble.
He had no legitimate access to the higher-level, devastatingly powerful Kidō.
Even if the instructors were technically stronger than him right now, Aizen was absolutely confident that given just a little more time, he would eclipse every single one of them.
The sheer, insurmountable gap between him and the rest of the world made him ponder.
Was he truly a different lifeform altogether?
Was he born with a higher, divine calling?
Did he have some grand, overarching purpose to fulfill?
Everyone who knew Sōsuke Aizen would describe him as a humble, good-natured pushover.
He always wore a gentle smile, quietly attended his classes, diligently took notes, and never fought for the spotlight.
Even when people insulted him, he remained perfectly calm and accommodating.
But no one understood him.
He wasn’t humble at all.
He was proud—arrogant to the absolute extreme.
He simply couldn’t be bothered to argue with these lowly, crawling mortals.
It was meaningless.
A complete waste of his time.
That was, until he met Mr.
Shimizu.
For the very first time in his life, he realized he wasn’t entirely alone.
That man had effortlessly seen through his flawless disguise.
He saw straight into Aizen’s towering arrogance…
and his crippling loneliness.
Yet, Aizen couldn’t see through him at all.
It was an incredibly rare feeling.
Until the day he could truly surpass Haru Shimizu, Aizen resolved to bury his true self even deeper in the shadows.
Having decided to reveal a calculated fraction of his true capabilities to satisfy his teacher, Aizen dazzled the academy, effortlessly seizing first place across all subjects.
His name had even reached the ears of a few officers in the Gotei 13, though honestly, not many people cared.
The Soul Society’s history was littered with prodigies.
There were probably more self-proclaimed ‘geniuses’ than there were turtles in the pond where the Head Captain fished.
Regardless, young Aizen had successfully carved out a small reputation for himself in the Seireitei.
Of course, despite being such an unparalleled genius, he—just like his esteemed mentor—had yet to achieve Shikai.
The reason was simple: his mind just wasn’t focused on it.
Compared to researching Reishi, the fundamental building blocks of all creation, what did a mere Zanpakutō matter?
Aizen was completely obsessed with his research, happily walking straight down the twisted path Haru had paved for him.
After surviving the year-end assembly, Haru finally welcomed a rare set of days off.
This was probably the best perk of being a teacher.
His only major complaint was that the Soul Society didn’t have summer or winter breaks.
At noon the next day, Haru slicked his hair back to look like a proper adult and smoothed out the wrinkles in his Shihakushō.
Today, he had a banquet to attend.
Outside the grand gates of the Kuchiki estate, guests and dignitaries flowed in like a river.
After a servant led him inside, Haru saw a massive crowd mingling in the courtyard.
The divide was stark.
On one side sat the aristocracy, holding court and chatting arrogantly among themselves.
On the other side were various Captains, Lieutenants, and seated officers of the Gotei 13, particularly from the Sixth Division.
Haru didn’t recognize many people on the noble side and wasn’t in the mood to make polite small talk.
Besides, his eyes had immediately locked onto a certain dark-skinned girl in the crowd.
‘Are you kidding me?
Why would I waste time talking to a bunch of stuffy old men when I could be teasing a wild little kitten?’
“Yo!
If it isn’t Lord Shimizu?
It’s been a while!” Spotting him from across the room, Yoruichi casually strolled over with Marenoshin Omaeda in tow, slapping Haru heartily on the shoulder.
Haru sighed dramatically.
“I’ve been incredibly busy lately.
Did you hear?
My star pupil, Sōsuke Aizen, just took first place across the entire second year!”
If Aizen knew his beloved teacher was constantly running a relentless PR campaign for him, he probably would have coughed up blood out of sheer frustration.
“So what?
There’s a new genius every year,” Yoruichi brushed it off.
“This is different!
Aizen is a peerless prodigy!
A true dragon among men!
You’re going to deeply regret underestimating him in the future, Yoruichi-chan!”
The dark-skinned girl’s face instantly flushed crimson.
She shoved him hard.
‘What the hell is this idiot calling me?!
Everyone is watching!’ Sadly, the short-sighted Yoruichi simply couldn’t comprehend Haru’s noble, selfless desire to build up his student’s reputation.
Standing off to the side, Marenoshin wore an incredibly warm, grandfatherly smile as he watched the two bicker.
Somehow, his massive frame managed to avoid drawing any attention.
‘Excellent!
Simply excellent!’ he cheered internally.
‘Everything is going exactly according to plan!
Arranged marriages are way too unreliable.
If you really want to seal the deal, you have to let them fall in love naturally!’
When the banquet officially began, Haru completely ignored the judging stares of the other nobles and shamelessly sat down at Yoruichi’s table.
Naturally, Yoruichi had also refused to sit with the stuffy aristocrats, choosing instead to squeeze in with the Soul Reapers of the Gotei 13.
While the food was rather bland and tasteless, the trip wasn’t a total wash.
Haru finally got to meet the man destined to be known as the most handsome Soul Reaper in the Seireitei: Byakuya Kuchiki.
The infant edition.
“This little guy doesn’t really look that great…” Haru muttered.
Before he could finish his critique, Yoruichi slapped her hand over his mouth.
“What is wrong with you?!
Newborns never look good!
Keep your mouth shut!
They’re coming over!” Yoruichi hissed, exasperated.
‘This idiot!
Why does he have to be so brutally honest?!’
‘I know what I’m doing, you nosy woman!’ Haru mumbled through her fingers.
As Sōjun and his wife walked over carrying the baby, Haru stood up and instantly unleashed a torrential flood of absolute, shameless flattery.
Sōjun and his wife were left completely dazed by Haru’s silver tongue.
By the time Haru was finished, little Byakuya had been elevated to the grand savior of the Soul Society, the shining hope of the Seireitei, and the undeniable successor to the Head Captain.
For a brief moment, Sōjun actually felt like the infant in his wife’s arms was radiating a holy, golden light.
In truth, today’s banquet was a massive political necessity.
This was the Kuchiki clan’s official announcement to the entire Soul Society that they, the head of the Great Noble Clans, finally had a legitimate heir.
For families of this stature, passing down their lineage was the single most important duty in existence.
Haru watched the dark-skinned girl grinning foolishly as she poked the baby’s chubby cheeks and let out a heavy, solemn sigh.
‘The Shihōin clan is clearly in trouble on this front.
She doesn’t have a kid yet!’
As the old saying goes, there are three great unfilial sins, and the absolute worst is failing to produce an heir.
‘It seems the burden on my shoulders is still incredibly heavy!’ Haru lamented self-righteously.
‘It’s not that I want anything for myself.
I simply cannot bear to sit back and watch such a historic, ancient noble family lose its glorious lineage!’