The hall doors closed with a dull thud, and the sound of retreating footsteps followed.
The future disciples of the Gotei 13 Captain-Commander had silently left the room, each processing what they had heard in their own way.
For a few moments, silence reigned in the hall, broken only by the faint rustle of the wind outside.
“Your thoughts?” Yamamoto was the first to break the silence, without raising his head.
He stood motionless, his hands clasped behind his back.
Spread out on the table before him were reports from the Second and Fourth Divisions, academic evaluations, and observation notes from the instructors.
Those pages contained more information than the students themselves likely knew about themselves.
“Kyoraku Shunsui-kun,” began Sasakibe Chojiro.
“By all academic metrics, he ranks in the top five of his class, even though he shows no desire to lead.
A recent incident in the World of the Living confirmed that a sharp mind lies beneath that feigned frivolity.
In a crisis, he acted with composure and decisiveness, albeit with a touch of recklessness.”
“His frivolity is merely a mask,” Unohana added quietly.
“But masks have a habit of fusing to the face over time.
He must be careful not to lose himself.”
“The Kyoraku clan has always been known for its dual nature,” Yamamoto remarked.
“The key is to channel that energy in the right direction.”
“Ukitake Jūshirō-kun,” Sasakibe continued.
“An exemplary student in the First Class, possessing a high level of spiritual power.
He is quite popular among his peers.
He appears gentle at first glance, yet he is far from weak.
He knows how to listen, avoids unnecessary risks, and acts rationally.
However, his health…
is a cause for concern.
He might not live to graduate from the Academy, especially if the physical strain on his body is increased.”
“I am certain he will manage,” Unohana replied calmly.
“His inner resilience is impressive.
Not everyone is capable of living with an incurable illness while still achieving such results.”
She paused.
“And the curious thing is, his condition isn’t worsening.
He simply…
has to live with constant discomfort,” she noted.
“Quiet, yet possessed of inner strength,” Yamamoto summarized.
“Outwardly frail, but truly reliable.
People are instinctively drawn to him.”
“Kaoru-kun,” the lieutenant said, moving on to the final student.
“He hails from the outermost districts of Northern Rukongai, with all that entails.
He is one of the top students in the First Class, if not the very best.
This practical training has confirmed his strength in both combat and decision-making.
He particularly excels in Kido.
The instructors describe his talent as nothing short of phenomenal.”
“His actions on the battlefield were…
unconventional,” Unohana remarked.
“Few in the Gotei would dare face a Menos without a released Zanpakuto, relying solely on an amateur technique and low-level Kido.
Let alone emerge victorious and unscathed, save for a few bruises and a couple of dislocations across the entire squad.
That is impressive.”
“He hasn’t been involved in any skirmishes with other students,” Sasakibe added.
“However, there was a conflict with the Hakuda instructor, Kaito Kobayashi.
Kaoru, ‘in retaliation for biased treatment’, won a sum of five hundred thousand kan and a set of unique Sekkiseki stone dice from him in a game of chance.
He also attempted to bargain for personal mentorship, though without success.”
“Have there been any complaints about him?” Yamamoto asked grimly.
“Just one, from the Kidō instructor.
He claims that Kaoru and Kyōraku often turn spell practice into a game.
But by his own admission, that’s the only way to motivate Shunsui at all…
The others either praise him or can’t quite pin down his character.
He doesn’t hide his power, yet he doesn’t show it off, either.
He’s reserved and, at times, caustic.
He interacts with only three or four people, spending most of his time at the training grounds.”
“If we overlook Kyōraku-kun’s antics, I suppose we can disregard these remarks as well,” Unohana said lightly.
“Given his background, he could have caused the Academy far more trouble,” the Captain-Commander said, waving the matter aside.
“What matters is that he possesses a rare trait, one that is difficult to cultivate.
He takes action when most others freeze.
The Gotei 13 and Soul Society need Shinigami like that.”
Chojiro remained silent.
Indeed, gambling and a bit of mischief during lessons were hardly the worst things individuals from the outlying districts were capable of.
It seemed people were truly beginning to forget that the first captains, many of whom still held their posts, had been nothing more than the strongest of the most notorious scoundrels.
Only General Yamamoto’s personal might had succeeded in forging them into a proper organization with a defined structure and hierarchy.
He cast another glance at the folders.
“Do you think they will accept your offer, Captain-Commander Yamamoto?” Sasakibe asked.
“Did you not see the look in their eyes?
They have already agreed,” he replied firmly.
“But we must give them a choice.
Wild birds do not sing in captivity.”
“I would like to personally monitor Kaoru-kun’s progress,” Unohana said.
“Informally.”
“Did you notice something?” The Captain-Commander showed unexpected interest in the request.
“…That boy is always on guard, whether exhausted or at ease.
He can sense danger even when I am holding back completely,” Unohana murmured enigmatically.
“His instincts are impressive.
He doesn’t rely on them solely for combat, they seem to permeate his entire existence.
That is not something one can learn, one is either born with it…
or acquires it through the sheer struggle to survive.”
She returned to her serene expression and gentle smile.
“I would like to…
test his limits.”
“Do as you see fit.
The main thing is that he stays alive, Retsu.” Genryusai emphasized the name, a name she had grown accustomed to bearing once more.
“Just as wild birds do not sing in captivity…
some flowers bloom only in blood.” Yachiru, flashing briefly through Retsu’s composed mask, left the metaphor hanging in the air behind her.
Unohana quietly left the hall.
Silence reigned once more, though this time it was far more meaningful.
“And what about Harumitsu?”
“Nothing remarkable,” Yamamoto replied.
“He didn’t fail, but he didn’t stand out either.
There is nothing in the reports that falls outside the baseline standards for a sixth-year student.
He didn’t unlock his potential, even under pressure…
but we need people like him, too.
The Quincy are ambushing our young recruits, and the Gotei is still short on soldiers and officers.”
“I imagine he expected as much,” Sasakibe said quietly.
“Indeed,” Yamamoto confirmed.
“And that may well work to his advantage.
Not everyone is born a genius.
Someone has to make up the majority that allows the geniuses to shine.”
…
For some unfathomable reason, Kyoraku dragged us back to the very same place where I’d out-drunk him last time.
I have to admit, the snacks here are top-notch, but the First District is full of excellent restaurants.
Oh well, never mind that.
Maybe his clan is in good standing here.
Or perhaps, conversely, he personally isn’t allowed anywhere else.
Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised.
I suppose it was obvious enough, but Ukitake is a lightweight.
His pale cheeks flushed pink after just one cup, and by the second, he was completely wasted.
Unfortunately, there was no comic transformation from polite, quiet fellow into a wild hell-raiser.
A pity, I would have liked to see that.
We collectively decided not to pour him any more drinks.
Besides, the two most important toasts had already been made: one to the victory over the Gillian, and another to our apprenticeship under Yamamoto.
I still can’t believe things turned out the way they did.
I had expected something a bit more… gradual, more methodical.
Instead, I was simply thrown into a whirlpool and told to swim for it if I wanted to survive.
As we sipped our drinks, we pondered how to squeeze private lessons with the Genryusai into the Academy’s already packed schedule.
Well, “we” is a bit of a stretch.
Mostly, it was Kyoraku doing the whining.
Mind you, he hadn’t signed up for a single extra class himself. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Unlike me, who had one mandatory and one voluntary elective on my plate.
And yet, he was the one complaining.
What a guy.
In the end, we decided to leave it up to Yamamoto.
He is both the Headmaster and the Captain-Commander.
We will do as he says.
The day was just beginning, but we had already unanimously decided to spend it idly.
Kyoraku, by the way, did end up dragging us to the river.
It seems he hadn’t let go of that idea after all.
And why not?
So, off we went.
While Jushiro dozed and Kyoraku splashed his feet in the water with evident delight, I sat on the bank, poking at the ground with a stick.
And doing so with surprising enthusiasm.
There is no point in regretting this time spent doing nothing, one has to rest eventually.
I have a feeling that once my “apprenticeship” begins, I won’t even have a spare moment to catch my breath.
“Hey, what are you drawing there…” Kyoraku’s voice gradually trailed off.
“Didn’t you say you didn’t know how?”
I stopped staring at a single spot and finally looked at the drawing as a whole.
It was a rough sketch of Katen, his Zanpakuto.
A skull-and-crossbones headpiece, pigtails that swirled like whirlpools, an eyepatch…
But there was no face.
No nose, no eyes, no mouth.
“I don’t know how,” I said, looking at the stick in my hand.
“Or, at least…
I didn’t?”
I think I’ve figured it out.
It’s possible that one of the hundreds of my past victims possessed artistic skills.
For some reason, the Diary system never recorded that, so I hadn’t even suspected such a possibility.
Just like that, the mystery is solved.
“Don’t tell me you’re dreaming about my Zanpakuto?!” he grabbed me by the shoulders in a panic and shook me.
“Come on, answer me!
I don’t want to fight you to the death for the right to wield it!”
“Oh, calm down,” I blurted out.
“My inner world is different.
It’s some kind of tower filled with archives.”
“Phew!” He ran a hand through his tousled hair and flopped down beside me.
“Well, that’s definitely a relief, Kaoru…
And when were you planning to mention that you dream about your own Zanpakuto?”
“I would’ve told you once the sword transformed…” I paused for a moment.
“I can’t see the spirit yet, anyway.”
Suddenly, it hit me.
There was no longer any need to keep a low profile.
After the victory over the Menos, no one would be surprised by the extraordinary speed at which I transformed my Asauchi into a Zanpakutō.
Kyoraku had already blazed that trail, so I was perfectly content to take second place.
It would be hard to stand out more than the three of us already had.
That was it, tonight, I’d swap my Asauchi for the Golden.
“Hey, can you hear me?” Kyoraku asked, waving his hand in front of my face.
“So, how come you know how to draw now?”
“How should I know?” I shrugged.
“I always thought I couldn’t.
Besides, you know, Zaraki isn’t exactly the place to indulge in hobbies.
There are no art supplies, and you certainly don’t have time to just doodle in the sand with a stick.”
“Why don’t you finish drawing her face?
I’ll give you pointers!” He handed the twig back to me.
“No, actually.
I’ll buy you an art set, and you can paint a real portrait of me!”
He was so enthusiastic…
whereas I didn’t even know if my talent extended beyond scratching lines in the dirt.
“What’s going on?” Shunsui’s loud voice finally woke Jushiro, who had been curled up asleep.
“Did something happen?”
“Come over here, Jushiro-kun!” our rowdy friend called out.
“You’ve got to see my beautiful Zanpakuto.”
I had a sudden, nagging urge to slash a line through the drawing with my foot, just to get under Kyoraku’s skin.
But I thought better of it.
You never know, her sword might take offense and decide to stab me the moment Muramasa’s rebellion kicks off.
And her Bankai is terrifying.
Instead, I finished sketching the bow at her neck, a dainty nose, a single eye, slender brows, and full lips.
All while Kyoraku murmured his approval.
It suddenly hit me that I had never actually seen my own Zanpakuto’s face.
Just a black-and-gold mask and neon eyes.
“Wow, did you really draw Kyoraku-kun’s Zanpakuto?” Jushiro asked in surprise.
“She’s so beautiful.”
He drew out the word with a dreamy look on his face.
Seriously, a man shouldn’t get that wasted after just two cups.
“I don’t think she was wearing a bow around her neck…” Kyoraku scratched his chin.
“Or maybe she was.”
“And let me guess why you didn’t notice…
Probably because you were ogling her massive tits.”
“N-no,” he shook his head, wearing the most serious expression he could muster.
“That didn’t happen.”
“I believe you,” I smirked.
“But tell me, a bow would suit her, wouldn’t it?”
“Possibly…” he stared at the drawing, a thoughtful look on his face.
“I think I dream about my Zanpakuto sometimes, too,” Ukitake said suddenly.
“It speaks with a child’s voice, but…
it’s as if there are two of them.”
“I know the feeling,” Kyoraku shrugged.
“It’s damn creepy.”
“I don’t think so,” Jushiro shook his head.
“That voice is actually quite sweet, like my little brothers’ and sisters’.”
At that point, I had no idea just how long this guy could go on talking about his family.
It even seemed to me that he sobered up at one point…
but he refused to stop, on principle.
Soul King, give me strength.
You wouldn’t find that level of ear-bashing even in a call center.
***
It is night.
Across the room, Kyoraku is snuffling and occasionally snoring.
And what did you expect?
Wandering around the First District and getting plastered all day is hard work.
When I finally swapped the Asauchi* for my true Zanpakuto, I felt a strange sense of relief.
It wasn’t just a matter of the habit formed over the years, either.
Although I could communicate mentally with my sword spirits and trained daily in my inner world, the absence of Golden’s physical manifestation was… deeply unsettling.
How can I describe it?
It’s a bit like having your arm isolated in another dimension.
It’s still yours, you aren’t an amputee, but using it or touching anything with it is completely impossible.
I ran my finger along the black scabbard.
I wondered if I was ready for the Shikai Trial.
I wanted to finally learn their true names and release commands, even though I had grown accustomed to their cute nicknames.
What abilities would they offer me?
What secrets lay hidden within my inner world?
Without realizing it, I drifted off to sleep.
It seemed that keeping my hand on the sword had played a part in transporting me to my inner world.
Our platform was still flying past the endless tiers of the archive, never pausing for even a moment.
And there were the two familiar spirits.
“You’ve stopped hiding, Master,” Golden said with satisfaction, bowing to me.
“The moment has finally arrived.”
Cobalt waved a greeting from a distance but didn’t say a word; she simply continued to watch me with interest.
“Yes.
I think the time has come,” I said, scratching the back of my head.
“Everything has worked out more than well.”
They always hear my thoughts, right?
I wonder if I’ll finally get some answers.
“If you’re interested, then yes. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
I’ll take off my mask once you learn our name,” she nodded.
“But I still can’t hear it…” I exhaled in disappointment.
“█████ █████,” she said clearly and distinctly.
“As you can see, no.”
“That’s two words!” I hastened to share my observation.
“Indeed.
You’ve made progress.” I could sense her smile beneath the mask.
Perhaps a tender one…
or maybe slightly condescending.
“We can skip this step.
Do you want to begin the Trial?”
“Already?
Can I really?” She nodded again.
“All right.
Let’s begin.
I remember the rule, no using the powers of Fullbring.”
“That is merely a whim of mine, Master,” she said, shaking her head.
“In the face of an insurmountable obstacle, you must use everything at your disposal.”
“Wait.
Did you really just call yourself an ‘insurmountable obstacle’?” I asked warily.
The atmosphere shifted abruptly.
The air grew thicker, drier.
It vibrated with tension.
“Master,” she said, her voice turning serious.
“Do you think your inner world is limited to just this tower?”
“Well… it’s all I’ve seen here,” I replied uncertainly.
Isn’t it your job to show me the ropes here?
I’d never even seen a way out before.
I didn’t think it was even possible.
“That’s not quite right.
The Tower is just a small part, albeit a crucial one.
Beyond the linear drive toward the summit…
you always need to look at the bigger picture.”
She didn’t stop the platform, as she had every time before.
Without warning or a countdown, she struck.
A lightning-fast upward blow slammed into me with savage force.
I barely managed to raise my sword in time.
And it was a good thing I did.
I was launched like a cannonball from the makeshift arena, slamming into the archive wall and leaving a deep dent in it.
But before I could pull myself free, Golden was upon me…
…and with a powerful kick, she sent me crashing right through the tower wall.
It was a long fall.
We were plummeting from a tremendous height.
Although I had managed to block the blow, my arms and back throbbed with pain.
So intensely, in fact, that I was nearly distracted from the mesmerizing sight before me.
No, not the sight of my beautiful Golden, who was racing after me, ready to run me through with her sword…
But of the Tower.
It was pitch black, rising up beyond the snow-white sky.
All around, wherever I looked, there was nothing but red sand.
Nothing else.
A perfect void.
Even in Hueco Mundo, a moon hangs in the sky and quartz-like trees jut from the sand.
Why, then, is my world so empty?
I tried to condense my Reiatsu beneath me to slow my descent.
But after a few failed attempts, I gave up and used Fullbring, it was far easier.
Pushing off the compressed air, I clashed blades with her.
“What’s the point of this?
Why did you bring me out here?”
“You tell me, Master,” she replied without slowing her pace.
“I am merely fulfilling my duty and introducing you to this world.
It is far vaster than you can imagine.”
We continued to trade blows, using the air itself for leverage, until we landed on the sand, kicking up a crimson storm.
We paused briefly, waiting for visibility to improve, then clashed once more.
Every strike from the Golden was precise, devoid of wasted movement, as if she were an enhanced reflection of myself.
It was as though she knew everything I was capable of.
We constantly swapped roles, shifting seamlessly between defense and offense.
“Why is it so empty here?” I asked, risking a mouthful of sand.
“Who knows?
Such is my Master’s Soul,” she replied neutrally.
I felt as though we were evenly matched.
It seemed like a single opportune moment would be enough to win…
yet that moment simply wouldn’t present itself.
The Golden was a tireless machine, fighting on without pause.
I, however, was beginning to tire.
“Should I let you pierce me through, then, to undergo the metaphorical process of acceptance?” I asked.
“Do as your heart tells you,” she chuckled.
“The chance to achieve Shikai rests entirely with you.”
I began to take greater risks, absorbing blows for the sake of landing my own.
I was making progress, though her physical condition didn’t seem to trouble her in the slightest.
She remained at her peak, just as she had been at the start of the fight.
Blood dripped from our swords, running down our arms and onto the red sand, turning it black.
Yet our movements churned it up instantly, leaving no trace behind.
Though this world was empty and inscrutable, I couldn’t call it ugly.
I liked it all.
It…
seemed to be in harmony with me.
If the books in our tower are empty, I will fill them.
If this world is empty, I will fill it.
Even if a hollow hole ever opens up in my chest, I’ll devour everyone in my path to fill it!
I clashed blades with Golden one more time before she struck me with her palm right in the center of my chest, knocking the wind out of me.
She is so merciless…
The sky was a blinding white, yet not so bright as to cause discomfort.
The tower’s height remained immeasurable…
It simply stood there like a black beacon.
“I lost.
Too bad…” I exhaled heavily once I could catch my breath.
“That means you aren’t ready yet,” the obedient Zanpakuto replied.
“It was a good fight, Master.
You’ve grown a great deal.”
“Oh, come on,” I grumbled.
“Save the praise for when I actually win…”
“Of course,” she nodded.
“But you are worthy of praise even now.”
“Never mind that,” I exhaled again.
“How do we get back to the tower?”
She pointed to the base of the black structure, it was thicker at the bottom.
“Obviously, there are doors on the ground floor.
The platform will always be wherever you need it to be…” She paused.
“But it’s probably time for you to leave.
The next time you’re here, you’ll find yourself on the platform by default.”
“See you then,” I said, making an effort to wake up.
The world began to blur.
I had a feeling I’d wake up feeling incredibly sluggish today.
“Our name is Kokū Banshō,” the words reached me with unexpected clarity.
I turned my head sharply, trying to hold onto this world a little longer.
She casually removed her mask, revealing the youthful face of a stunning young woman.
“How you both love to put on a show,” the Hollow’s weightless voice rang out, completely breaking the mood.
You’re just jealous of our very special connection, Cobalt.
Or…
should I call you Kokū now?
Emptiness and All That Is.
What an interesting name for my Zanpakuto.