“Hmm, I see…”
I was in my room at the Academy dormitory, skimming the latest issue of *Seireitei Communication*.
*Seireitei Communication* is a publication put out by the Ninth Division, something along the lines of an official bulletin or government gazette.
Naturally, it circulates throughout Seireitei, but some copies even make their way into Rukon District from time to time.
I’d read it a few times back when I lived there myself.
But I wasn’t interested in the articles.
“No familiar names this time, either…”
Twice a year, *Seireitei Communication* comes with a roster of everyone serving in the Gotei 13.
Within each division, the seated officers are listed in order of rank, while the unseated members are listed in Japanese syllabary order.
Now, that sort of thing doesn’t mean much when you’re still an Academy student.
But for someone in my position, it’s extremely useful information.
Because I can check whether any of the names are ones I know.
It’s not that I doubt the names of the thirteen captains Master told me about.
It’s just that he told me quite a long time ago.
And it would be odd to ask him, “Could you tell me all the captains’ names?” every single year.
I wanted up-to-date information, and in that respect, *Seireitei Communication* was perfect.
I could check the names regularly.
Unfortunately, apart from the ones Master had mentioned, I hadn’t recognised a single name.
“I’m pretty sure Captains Kyōraku and Ukitake were portrayed as quite the veterans, weren’t they?
But their names aren’t even among the ordinary Soul Reapers…
Just how far in the past am I…?”
What if I run out of years and die before the original story even starts!?
No!
That would be terrible!!
Orihime!
Rangiku!
Harribel!
Bambietta!
I haven’t even seen those mountains yet!!
To take my mind off it—and escape reality for a bit—I went back to reading *Seireitei Communication*.
…
…
…This is boring.
It felt like reading a timetable.
I ended up flinging the thing aside and sprawling out on the tatami.
“It’s just a list of things that happened and things that are going to happen!
Couldn’t they put in some entertaining magazine articles too?”
I was thoroughly fed up with it.
The contents were no different from the issues I’d seen back in Rukon District.
I’ve never seen one myself, but were the news sheets from the Edo period like this?
Or is it because Soul Reapers publish it that it has to be such a stiff, serious read?
Then again, as a timetable, it’s excellent.
Everything that’s happened is laid out so concisely that, while it isn’t entertaining, it’s certainly easy to read.
It’s like they’ve put all their effort into meeting the bare minimum requirements and fulfilling their duty.
Still not entertaining, though.
Perhaps that’s better than gossip and made-up stories presented as ‘facts’, or one person’s personal opinions passed off as ‘what everyone thinks’.
“…Oh, no!”
Thinking about timetables suddenly reminded me of something, and I scrambled to my feet.
“I’m supposed to be working at the library today!”
Shin’ō Academy has summer, winter and spring holidays.
That surprised me.
I’d expected something stricter, like, ‘If you want to become a Soul Reaper, it’s Monday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Friday!
Don’t expect any days off!’ But apparently, some aspects of the Academy are surprisingly close to education in the modern world.
And right now, it’s summer—summer holidays, to be exact.
Students with homes in Seireitei have taken the opportunity to go back for a while.
But for those of us from Rukon District, it isn’t quite so simple.
We don’t have the right to pass freely through the Seirei Gates yet.
With a bit of bad luck, the paperwork for an entry pass could eat up the entire holiday.
So I generally stay in the dormitory.
The Academy understands our circumstances, at least, and keeps the facilities and dining hall available, though on a smaller scale than during term time.
By the way, Ayase-san and the others are nobles, so they’ve gone home for the holidays.
I could spend the time training, of course, but…
“I’m sorry I’m late!”
“Ah, Yukawa-san.
Don’t worry, you’re right on time.”
I’d hurried into the Academy library, but it looked as though I’d managed to avoid being late.
“Shall we get started, then?”
“Yes!
Leave it to me!!”
As I’ve mentioned before, Academy students can get by without spending any money of their own.
The Academy provides the basic necessities of food, clothing and shelter, along with anything needed for lessons.
If something’s missing, you can put in a request for it.
But there’s a catch: you only get the things you actually need.
If you want something for personal use, you have to pay for it yourself.
Nobles might be able to get money easily enough, but it’s a different matter for those of us from Rukon District.
That’s why the Academy also advertises little jobs students can help out with—basically the sort of part-time work a university might arrange for its students.
You can earn a bit of money that way.
Only a bit, mind you.
The pay really is tiny.
And today, I’m working part-time in the library.
“Right, first, this book goes— And that one belongs on the shelf over there— We haven’t catalogued these yet, so leave them for later—”
“Yes, the books in this box go over there, right?
And these go on that side…”
All I’m doing is sorting books.
Still, being tall and strong makes the work go incredibly quickly.
I can reach the highest shelves without any trouble.
No ladder required!
“Er, what about this book?
Oh!”
“That one…?
Ah, don’t worry about that.”
The library staff member hurriedly picked up the book, almost as if trying to hide it.
But I hadn’t missed the title.
*Advanced Kidō Textbook*.
It was a book containing difficult and dangerous Kidō that Academy students weren’t supposed to use.
It would be one thing for a teacher to read it, but it was far too dangerous for a student.
And once you read about powerful Kidō, naturally you’d want to try casting it yourself.
If you could control it properly, that would be fine.
But powerful techniques have a habit of being more than you can handle and going off out of control.
If the only person badly hurt were the caster, that would be one thing.
But the people around them would almost certainly get dragged into it as well.
And if things went badly, someone could end up getting a serious telling-off for failing to keep the book under proper control.
“…I’ll pretend I didn’t see that.”
“Sorry about that.
I’d appreciate it.”
They must have picked up on what I was getting at, because we were able to settle the matter by quietly pretending it hadn’t happened.
Still, that meant I had something on them now.
Surely they’d let me make one little selfish request.
“In exchange, could I ask you for a favour?”
“Hmm?
What is it?”
“Do you have any books or techniques relating to simplifying Kidō?”
“…Simplifying it?
What exactly do you mean?”
“Well, for example, some method of getting nearly the same power as a full incantation even if you skip the chant.
Or a way of using some sort of tool to activate Kidō more easily.”
What I wanted was the same thing I’d been searching for since my days in Rukon District: a way to use powerful Kidō without all the fuss.
I’d been experimenting in the hope of doing away with incantations altogether, but so far I’d made no progress.
At the moment, my only real option was to fire off a Cero without saying a word.
But perhaps someone connected with the Academy would know something—
“Sorry, I don’t know of anything like that.”
—Or perhaps not.
“Hmm…
Then are there any records of people trying something like that and failing?
Even accounts of unsuccessful attempts would do.”
“I haven’t heard of any books like that, either…
Though I haven’t read every book in this library myself, so there might be something tucked away somewhere.”
No luck, then…
I’d have liked records of failed attempts too.
They might save me some trial and error, or point me towards an approach or method I hadn’t thought of myself.
“Even if we don’t have anything here, the Shin’ō Library might—”
“—The Shin’ō Library!?
Where’s that!?”
“C-Central District One.”
After asking for more details, I learned that it was the largest library in all of Seireitei.
I see.
There might well be something useful there.
“I’ll take you there when I have some free time.
But for now, work comes first, all right?”
“Of course.”
I’d nearly forgotten I was on the clock.
Still, when I’m sorting books and come across something interesting or potentially useful, I make a mental note of where it is.
Coming back to read those books later has become a little daily habit of mine, one I keep to myself.
As for simplifying Kidō, the thing I was really after…
Well, I suppose I’ll have to be patient.
Author’s Notes
● Seireitei Communication
A public information publication issued by the Ninth Division.
By the time of the original story, it’s something like a monthly information magazine or local town magazine.
(There’s plenty of content, from articles like ‘Tips for Wearing Your Shihakushō with Style!’ to Captain Ukitake’s serialised adventure story, *Sōgyo’s Refusal!*.)
But that’s only after Kaname Tōsen becomes captain of the Ninth Division.
Before that, as with the issue Airi was reading this time, it was more like an old-fashioned news sheet: a dull notice listing announcements, incidents, schedules and little else.
It also comes with a complete roster of all Gotei 13 personnel twice a year.
(From the *BLEACH* novels.)
● Part-time Work
If you’re a noble’s child, I imagine you can get as much spending money as you like just by asking for it.
But someone from Rukon District probably wouldn’t have any money at all.
And you can’t get by in Seireitei without money.
→ So I added the setting that the Academy provides the basic necessities of life and anything else students need.
→ And with that in place, it wouldn’t be strange for there to be part-time jobs as a way to earn money—simple, poorly paid tasks that at least give you a little compensation for the work.