I… haven't awakened the true power of my zanpakutō?
The moment he heard those words, Arima Shinya's expression turned strange.
He stared at the blade beside him for a long time, unable to say a word.
To others, Aizen's words might have sounded confusing or difficult to grasp.
But Arima Shinya was different.
In the original course of events, Abarai Renji and Ayasegawa Yumichika —
two notable names — were classic examples of shinigami who, because they had not yet reconciled with their zanpakutō, ended up calling out their false names, whether consciously or not.
Then… according to the professor, am I the same kind of person as them?
Thinking about it carefully, it made sense.
Although Arima Shinya had managed to release his zanpakutō, he had never once encountered the spirit of his blade — the reflection of his inner soul.
He had never imagined that one day, he might have been calling the name of his own sword… incorrectly.
He gave an awkward smile, while Aizen, beside him, continued speaking in a soothing tone.
"Don't feel discouraged, Shinya-kun. Everyone has their own pace. The hardships you face, no matter how painful, will polish your mind and give you the chance to rise to greater heights."
Recovering emotionally wasn't difficult — and indeed, Shinya soon accepted reality.
Then, he began to reflect on what he should do next.
"So, Professor Aizen… what do you think I should do?"
"That brings us back to the beginning of our conversation, Shinya-kun."
Aizen's tone was calm, and his expression, unwavering.
But beneath that serenity were words enough to make anyone break out in a cold sweat.
"This might sound a bit extreme, but… I want you to challenge Giranjō once more."
"And I'm not saying this on impulse — it's a conclusion I reached after careful consideration."
"You may not have noticed, Shinya-kun, but you're someone who naturally moves at a slower pace… gradual methods won't bring you clear results."
"At certain times, I believe that only external pressure can truly force you to change."
Aizen was an exceptional observer.
And at that moment, he had completely seen through the essence of Arima Shinya.
"Shinya-kun, you don't like the sight of blood, do you?"
"I had that impression before, but after our talk, I can confirm it — you truly aren't someone who enjoys fighting."
"Don't misunderstand me. That's not a flaw.
To be gentle and yet strong — that is a unique kind of power."
But, unfortunately…
"The law of the strong is also the rule of the Soul Society.
If you're not stronger than others, you'll be swallowed by invisible currents."
"We are the ones who walk against the flow, Shinya-kun."
"If we don't advance fast enough, we'll be left behind."
Aizen's lips pressed together faintly, and a serene smile formed on his face.
"It's a rather rough method, I admit… but it's extremely effective.
Between life and death, true power awakens."
"As I said before — what you need, Shinya-kun, is different from everyone else."
"Learning by itself means nothing unless there's a chance to turn experience into real strength."
"That's why I believe this is the method most suitable for you."
This man… could say something so terrifying — and still smile.
The light, almost casual tone with which Aizen suggested that he challenge a captain left Arima caught between shock and disbelief.
Challenge Giranjō… again? A second round? He's got to be joking.
"Of course, I understand this would be an enormous burden for you, Shinya-kun.
If you wish, you can refuse and continue with the previous plan — interning in other divisions."
But then—
Aizen lifted his left hand and gently placed it on Arima's shoulder.
"As your teacher, I'd rather see you take the initiative to change."
"Besides… I believe that through this confrontation, you might discover the true name of your zanpakutō."
"That much, at least, I'm certain of."
He wasn't forcing him directly, but his words alone carried immense weight.
And indeed, Arima Shinya didn't see it as something incomprehensible.
Ever since entering the Academy, Aizen had always been like this —
pushing him to grow through spiritual pressure,
arranging "accidental" encounters with the 11th Division,
and even creating conflicts just to test him…
Now, Aizen wasn't even trying to hide it.
He said it plainly: "See Kiganjō over there? Go and give him a good beating."
Arima lowered his gaze, staring at his side in silence for a few moments.
"Professor Aizen."
"Yes, Shinya-kun?"
"If I challenge Kiganjō… and lose…"
"Hmm… you'll probably be killed.
After all, he has no reason to hold back.
He's already made it clear in public that he doesn't intend to forgive you."
"And do you think I have any chance at all?"
"Small."
"But not zero, right?"
"Exactly. I still believe there's a possibility of victory."
Aizen adjusted his posture, and his smile grew even more enigmatic.
"Because, in my eyes, Shinya-kun's zanpakutō… holds limitless potential."
With those words—
What would Arima Shinya's answer be?
After a brief moment of thought, the young man lifted his face and let out a long sigh.
To say he wasn't nervous would be a lie.
Before, that encounter had been pure coincidence;
now, it would be the result of his own decision.
Should I walk this path?
It was, without a doubt, a road covered in thorns — the path of an asura.
Arima's hands clenched, then slowly relaxed again.
As Aizen had said, he didn't like blood.
Nor pain.
He couldn't understand those who lived for the thrill of battle,
nor did he care about debates on ideals or philosophy.
But even someone like him understood:
if he didn't move forward, he would be left behind.
Now, walking alongside Aizen, the future awaiting him was obviously harsh and uncertain.
Those hardships were real.
Ignoring them wouldn't make them disappear.
And what people call talent — only has value when tested.
With that thought, Arima took a deep breath and slowly raised his head.
There was firmness in his gaze.
The answer had already been decided in his heart.
"Professor Aizen, I…"
Five days later—
Under the cold light of the moon, Kiganjō Kenpachi was walking with the members of the 11th Division after a night of drinking.
Now, they were all heading back to the headquarters.
They were still within the boundaries of the Seireitei,
but since it was an old and deserted district, rarely traveled,
the chances of encountering patrols were almost zero.
In other words—
a perfect place to fight without interruptions.
Kiganjō Kenpachi stopped.
His eyes locked onto the figure watching him from afar, motionless.
Two seconds of silence.
Then, a wide grin spread across his face.
"Heh! I've been looking for you, kid!"
"Yeah, me too."
It was time to settle the score.
One sought vengeance, the other… a chance to surpass himself.
Hair tied back, Arima Shinya kept his face expressionless, his right arm hanging loosely at his side.
His opponent was a captain.
There was no room for hesitation.
It was all or nothing.
The location was chosen, his body prepared, and his heart free of fear.
Arima Shinya was ready.
His hand slowly slid toward the hilt of the sword at his waist.
"Devour your own tail… Yumi Iori."
⸻
(End of Chapter)
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