"Where did this brat come from? Beat it! I'm in a bad mood right now!" Emiya Shirō waved his hand irritably.
He was a transmigrator, after all. Sure, he looked young, but his soul was anything but. It was only natural to sigh about the absurdity of life now and then. But this little runt? A real kid? What the hell did he have to be so sentimental about?
Wouldn't he be better off running back home, crying in his mama's arms with a warm bottle of milk?
"You're calling me a brat? Look who's talking!" the kid immediately snapped back, clearly enraged.
"Hah! At least I'm taller than you. Want to compare birth years while we're at it?" Shirō grinned, lips curling into a rare smirk.
It had been so long since he'd felt this kind of superiority, he couldn't even remember the last time. In the Soul Society, souls aged slowly, and the population was dominated by adults, especially outside the noble clans. The vast majority were much older than he was.
Besides Soifon and little Lisa, Shirō hadn't met anyone who looked younger than him in ages.
But today, he finally got his moment of triumph. Like stumbling upon treasure after wandering aimlessly.
Even the gloom he'd bottled up from dealing with Yoruichi seemed to fade, just a little.
As Shirō exaggeratedly measured his height beside the kid, the boy's head filled with mental hashtags: #AnnoyingAsHell #WhoIsThisIdiot #LetMeGoBackHome. He had finally snuck out to explore, and this was the first person he ran into?!
"The Soul Society values strength above all else! Age means nothing! And height?! Even more irrelevant!" the kid shouted.
"Tch. You're just saying that because you're smaller than me. When I'm with older people, I say the exact same thing!" Shirō shrugged. "But it's rare to find someone shorter than me, so excuse me while I enjoy it."
He reached out to ruffle the boy's head.
Smack!
The kid swatted his hand away and snapped, "Don't push your luck, or I won't go easy on you!"
"Hah? What are you gonna do, tiny arms and legs? Hit me?" Shirō taunted, grinning wider.
"Bastard!" The kid lashed out with a kick, not bad, clearly trained, but far too slow.
Shirō had sparred with Yoruichi for years. This wasn't even close.
He was all speed and agility, the kind of guy who dodged instinctively, always fluid, never caught.
"Come on, hit me! I'm right here! Try and land a punch, just one!" Shirō teased, effortlessly dodging, dancing circles around the poor kid.
Neither had weapons, and unlike Soifon, this kid wasn't going all out or trying to kill him. With no pressure on Shirō, he weaved through the attacks like a breeze.
"You bastard! Stop running! Stand still!" the kid shouted, chasing him in a flustered rage.
He had long realized he wasn't Shirō's match. At first, he thought about retreating. Ignore the annoying weirdo and walk away.
But Shirō kept provoking him. Patting his cheeks, ruffling his hair, how was he supposed to just endure that kind of humiliation?
Even getting beat up outright wouldn't have felt as awful. This was unbearable.
Truth be told, after all these years with Yoruichi, Shirō had picked up some bad habits. Teasing people was one of them. You could even say… he was slowly evolving into a certified sadist.
"Come on, hit me! I'm standing right here! What's wrong, shorty?" Shirō backed up as he called out.
And then, thud!, he bumped into someone.
He stopped.
The kid's eyes lit up. Perfect! He swung a fist at Shirō's now-still figure.
But it didn't land.
A large hand caught his punch mid-air.
Not Shirō's hand. He had already dodged to the side out of habit.
The one who caught the kid was the very person Shirō had crashed into.
"Which blind idiot is blocking my path now?!" Shirō grumbled, still cranky.
"'Who the hell dares stop my punch?!"the kid yelled, already talking like he was some kind of big shot, clearly influenced by Shirō's antics.
"Hah?! I try to break up your little fight, and you punks start insulting me?!" the newcomer shouted back.
"Did this guy just call himself my old man?!" Shirō snapped, veins popping.
"Yeah! Who the hell are you calling old man?! You're gonna pay for that, jerk!" the kid shouted too, equally pissed.
"Hmph!" the man jumped back dramatically and declared, "Since you ask so sincerely, I shall mercifully reveal my identity!"
Shirō's face twitched.
Was this guy Musashi Kojirō? Or maybe… Jiraiya?
But then he looked closer, and recognized him.
"Listen up! I am none other than the greatest prodigy of the modern Soul Society, the genius himself, Kaien Shiba!"
He struck a pose, awaiting applause.
Shirō and the kid both stared blankly.
Kaien's jaw dropped. "Wait, you don't recognize me?! Tch, fine, I suppose you're still kids. Let me enlighten you!"
He puffed out his chest. "I've already been accepted into the Central Spiritual Academy, early admission, thank you very much! Passed in one try, too!"
Still no reaction.
"Not impressed? Then get this, I scored a top-tier spiritual pressure level upon entry. Level six, the highest! Amazing, right? You should be trembling in awe!"
"...Oh," Shirō replied, clapping slowly. "Is this the reaction you were hoping for? Because honestly, your face is really annoying."
"Impossible! Everyone says I'm handsome!" Kaien protested.
"Tch. You're from the Shiba clan? Big deal. I'm from the Kuchiki clan!" the kid suddenly cut in.
"The Kuchiki clan? Since when do they have a brat like you?" Kaien squinted, moving in to inspect the boy.
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150 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter