The girl on the podium radiated youthful beauty, while the boys in the classroom were momentarily dazed.
In Kisaragi Akira's memory, Yoruichi Shihouin should have exuded the confident, teasing aura of a mature, captivating older sister. Yet, the moment she introduced herself, a strange feeling of dissonance struck him, as if he had stepped into another world entirely.
Her personality, however, remained bright and mischievous, unrivaled in teasing and playing pranks.
"Yoruichi Shihouin… could she really be from the Shihouin family?"
A few students whispered in shock. Among them were nobles who immediately recognized the weight behind that surname. The Shihouin family—one of the Five Great Noble Houses—stood at the absolute top of the Soul Society, above countless other nobles and factions.
Aizen's usually warm smile faltered slightly, a rare flicker of surprise crossing his face. Yet when his gaze fell on Kisaragi Akira beside him, his eyes lingered.
Akira sat perfectly upright, staring straight ahead, his posture immaculate. On the surface, he looked like the model student—but if one paid attention to the direction of his eyes, that image quickly shattered.
"What are you looking at?" Aizen whispered curiously.
Akira shot him a sidelong glance, lips curling into a grin. "Heh, that's a question?"
"Of course I'm admiring the finest sight in the world."
Aizen's expression froze for a moment. He decided not to respond. He was slowly realizing that often, he and Akira simply weren't on the same wavelength.
While others were still reeling from the revelation of Yoruichi Shihouin's identity, Akira was already… admiring her body.
It was difficult to judge this behavior.
On the podium, Yoruichi's sharp gaze swept over the room. As the designated heir of the Shihouin family, her abilities were exceptional. Naturally, she immediately sensed Akira's highly aggressive gaze.
A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips, her delicate fangs catching the sunlight, radiating danger.
"Let's start with the left side," she said playfully.
Akira glanced around and realized that, if the order were strictly followed, he and Aizen were the last two to be tested.
The assessment officially began.
Clad in a tight black training suit that accentuated her curves, Yoruichi—still in the bloom of youth—had not yet developed the legendary allure she would possess a century later. Yet even now, she was mesmerizing enough to draw all eyes.
Due to her status, the students who faced her dared not look her directly in the eye, fearing Kishinobu would catch any lapse and deliver a punishing strike.
"Ready?" Yoruichi asked.
"Y-Yes…" the first student stammered.
A playful laugh escaped her lips as she moved like a phantom, her slender fingers striking the defenseless chest of the student.
The motion seemed harmless, yet the next instant, a shockwave exploded outward. The impact—just the pure force of the strike—sounded like thunder.
The student's fair face flushed scarlet as though all the blood in his body had rushed there. Within a heartbeat, he was sent flying like a cannonball, slamming against the classroom wall, hanging there like a framed painting.
Striking a student like a wall decoration.
A clean, instant kill.
Kisaragi Akira's eyes widened.
Good grief! Yoruichi was already this violent?
"Floating feet, weak limbs," Yoruichi critiqued. "You lack even the most basic vigilance. Kishinobu, your students are getting worse."
Kishinobu broke into a nervous sweat, forced a smile, and dared not argue. No one understood Yoruichi's true strength better than he did. Even without considering spiritual pressure, her technique alone surpassed his.
A clear talent gap.
"Next!" Yoruichi's grin widened, clearly enjoying herself.
Judging by her demeanor, she seemed to treat this as pure entertainment.
One by one, the students stepped up, only to be knocked down in an instant. Few lasted beyond the second strike—and again, this was purely technique, no spiritual pressure involved.
After the classroom was strewn with sprawled students, Yoruichi's gaze finally fell on Aizen and Kisaragi Akira.
"Next." She smiled.
Aizen hesitated briefly, then walked forward calmly. As before, Yoruichi asked only if he was ready—he nodded—and the attack came.
Unexpectedly… Aizen fell.
Kisaragi Akira's eyes widened in disbelief. Invincible Aizen… defeated?!
Like the first student, a single, decisive strike had taken him down.
This shattered Akira's perception of the world once again. Others might not notice, but Akira knew: in terms of raw talent, even across the Soul Society, few could rival Aizen—not even members of the Five Great Noble Houses.
Yet here he was, lying on the ground, breathing shallowly, life uncertain. Akira couldn't help but stare in awe. Does he always put on such an act? Do his family know about this?
"Another rookie."
Yoruichi's eyes flicked to Akira, the danger radiating off her like a living storm.
"You're the last one," she said, her fanged smile gleaming mischievously, like a cat toying with its prey.
"Come on, boy. Show me your hand-to-hand combat skills!"
Akira forced a smile. He considered himself talented, but translating talent into real combat prowess always required time.
"Move it, Akira!" Kishinobu's voice boomed. "No shortcuts or tricks to dodge the test!"
Akira calmed himself, expression resolute, and stepped forward.
It's just getting hit, he thought. I've been hit before. As long as I observe Aizen, I'll be fine. He planned to take the strike and fall deliberately.
But…
Looking at Yoruichi's teasing, dangerous gaze, Akira's instincts screamed. Danger!
His pupils contracted. Every sense heightened to the maximum. Instantly, he shifted into combat mode.
No questions. No preparation.
Yoruichi's slender fingers moved like plucking strings, then clenched into a fist. In the same instant, her light step surged forward.
Her thin fist, slicing through the air with a sharp whistling sound, propelled a wave of force directly at Kisaragi Akira's face!