Time in Soul Society flows at a leisurely pace.
Six years slipped quietly by beneath Seireitei's ageless sky, through the sakura that bloomed and withered in the courtyards, in the daily patrols, drills, and missions of the Shinigami.
To a Shinigami whose life stretches centuries, six years might be a snap of the fingers, yet for a life still growing and waiting to bloom it is long enough to change much, to brew expectation and upheaval.
Today is Seireitei Academy's single most important day of the year—the graduation exam.
The normally quiet campus now bustled with people; the air crackled with nerves and excitement.
Temporary stands had been erected around the vast training field, packed with students yet to graduate, examinees who had washed out, and curious Rukongai residents who had caught word of the event.
Every gaze converged on a special row of seats at one side of the arena: there the captains and Vice-Captains of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads sat like stars gathered around the moon.
Evidently every division attached great importance to "harvesting" this year's crop.
Though Captain Commander Yamamoto-Genryūsai Shigekuni remained with the First Division and had not come, the turnout of Captain-level officers was the highest seen in years.
Second Division Captain Soi Fon stood ramrod-straight; beneath her bee-patterned haori her icy eyes swept the field like invisible probes, missing nothing.
Third Division Vice-Captain Kotetsu Hagane—everyone's jovial "auntie"—was present, her gaze sharp as a blade.
Fourth Division Captain Unohana Retsu sat with a gentle, fathomless smile.
Fifth Division Captain Aizen Sōsuke, one of the first to arrive, reflected soft light off his lenses while wearing a flawless, spring-breeze smile—yet what lay beneath that warmth no one could truly see.
Sixth Division Vice-Captain Uchiha Shisui, clad in shinigami uniform, was calm and focused, standing in for his captain, Shihōin Hiroki.
Seventh Division Captain Komamura Sajin—towering, broad-shouldered, conical-hatted—sat silent and immovable as a mountain.
Eighth Division Captain Kyoraku Shunsui's straw hat sat askew; his flashy haori draped carelessly, yet when his lids lifted, keen light flashed.
Ninth Division Vice-Captain Tōsen Kaname, eyes shut, nonetheless covered the entire field with his senses, representing his division.
Tenth Division Captain Shiba Isshin, jovial branch head of the Shiba Clan, lounged with a broad grin.
Eleventh Division Captain Kenpachi Kiganjō radiated wildness and battle-lust, his massive Zanpakuto thrust casually beside him; he had come only for "something interesting."
Thirteenth Division Vice-Captain Shiba Kaien, once Shino's legend—graduated in one year, Vice-Captain in five—watched with a bright smile and the fond approval of a senior for a junior.
The Sixth and Tenth Divisions had been restaffed by the Captain Commander himself during those six years, filling long-vacant posts.
As for the Third and Ninth, though their captaincies were temporarily filled by Vice-Captains, everyone knew Ichimaru Gin and Tōsen Kaname's promotions were only a matter of time.
The scientists of the Twelfth Division, as always, had no interest in such traditional talent scouting.
The First Division, of course, operated on internal recommendation and never admitted newcomers.
At the center of all these luminaries' attention stood one person alone: Isayama Yomi.
When she enrolled six years ago, this Rukongai girl had shattered the spiritual-pressure gauge with an unheard-of sixth-class reading; since then, her name had become known throughout Seireitei.
Another sixth-class prodigy, Shiba Kaien of the Four Great Noble Clans, had graduated in a single year and risen swiftly under Captain Ukitake to become Thirteenth Division Vice-Captain.
With Shiba Kaien's precedent shining before them, people placed even hotter hopes on Isayama Yomi, whose starting point seemed even higher.
Yet everyone was disappointed.
One year passed—she did not graduate.
Another year—still not graduated.
Another year—surely she never would… until, at last, six full years were gone, and Isayama Yomi had completed every last course and now stood, perfectly qualified, at the graduation exam!
'So that's… Isayama Yomi?'
'Her reiatsu feels odd—bottomless, yet…'
'Six years! First time she's ever shown what she can do—how spectacular will it be?'
'Almost every captain turned up just for her, right?'
'Even Vice-Captain Shiba didn't draw this kind of crowd back then!'
Whispers rippled across the stands like an incoming tide.
Beside Yomi stood her only friend, Kuroki Rin.
Six years had stripped much of the girlishness from this daughter of the Kuroki Clan; though a complex emotion for her brother Hiroki still flickered across her brow, right now she drew a deep breath, clenched her fists, and silently steeled herself:
'Hang in there, Kuroki Rin! Even if you're bound for the Sixth Division, make everyone see your effort! You can't let Yomi... you can't let the Kuroki Clan down!'
She sneaked a glance at Isayama Yomi beside her.
Yomi looked the same as ever—long black hair tied in a ponytail, a few strands falling across her brow, her profile delicate yet distant and aloof. Those obsidian eyes calmly watched the arena, betraying no ripple of emotion.
Six years had left almost no visible mark on her. That'sinister' spiritual pressure she'd possessed since enrollment had grown more restrained, like hidden currents beneath a deep sea.
'Yomi,' Rin couldn't help whispering, 'which division do you want? Captain Soi Fon looks formidable, Captain Aizen seems gentle and reliable, and Captain Shiba's Tenth Division must be pretty lively...'
She rattled off the strong captains present, trying to sound out her friend.
Yomi's gaze drifted across the captain seats, lingered a moment on the empty chairs, then returned to the field.
The corner of her mouth seemed to lift a fraction. Her voice was soft, carrying an indescribable nuance: 'Which division? Depends.'
She paused, then added, 'Or rather, on the heavens' arrangement.'
Rin was a bit bewildered, but seeing Yomi had nothing more to say, she turned her attention to the bustling duel that had begun.
On the field the assessments were in full swing—blades flashing, spiritual pressures colliding, Kidō booming.
The graduates poured out everything they'd learned, desperate to show the captains their finest.
Every successful parry, every brilliant Kidō release, every precise Shunpo drew cheers.
Yet in the lofty captain seats the atmosphere felt... cold.
Soi Fon only nodded occasionally, then looked away;
Unohana Retsu kept her unchanging smile, murmuring now and then with Aizen beside her, her comments seeming to focus more on a wounded student's potential;
Aizen's gaze remained gently appreciative, but deep in his eyes there was no real stir;
Komamura Sajin stayed silent as ever;
Kyōraku Shunsui even produced a small flask from nowhere, taking a discreet swig, looking rather bored;
Tōsen Kaname sat with eyes closed, saying nothing;
At first Shiba Isshin managed a couple of spirited shouts, but soon quieted;
Shiba Kaien mostly compared his own division's performance to the students below;
Only Uchiha Shisui, the relatively young Vice-Captain, watched with total concentration, as though recording every detail.
As for Eleventh Division's Kenpachi Kiganjō—arms folded, he snorted loudly through his broad nostrils and began to grumble:
'Tch! Boring! So damn boring! These brats are soft—swinging at them isn't even satisfying! This is battle?'
He suddenly turned to an academy staff member beside him.
'So when does that girl Isayama Yomi go on? I've waited till the flowers wilted!'
His voice wasn't loud, but every captain heard it clearly.
The remark seemed to light a fuse.
'Indeed, Captain Kenpachi is right,' Aizen Sōsuke adjusted his glasses, speaking mildly.
'The focus of our anticipation hasn't appeared; the wait is rather wearying. Might I ask which bout Isayama Yomi is scheduled for?'
'Heard it's still ages away—at least a dozen matches before her,' Shiba Isshin boomed in Tenth Division frankness.'Sitting here really isn't doing much.'
Kyōraku lowered his flask, a playful smile curling:'So, how about we ask the academy for a small favor—move Yomi's match up?'
His suggestion instantly voiced what nearly everyone felt.
Soi Fon:'Seconded.'
Unohana smiled: 'Very well—it saves time.'
Komamura rumbled: 'Mm,' in agreement.
Aizen, still smiling: 'A win-win, surely.'
Isshin slapped his thigh: 'Great idea! Done! Kaien, don't you agree?'
Kaien grinned and nodded: 'I'm sure the juniors are just as eager.'
Uchiha Shisui bowed slightly: 'Whatever the captains decide.'
The Seireitei Academy head dared not ignore the captains' unanimous wish.
With almost no delay the match list was rearranged.
Several students who'd been warming up nervously for their turn were told to wait; stepping onto the field in their place was Isayama Yomi.
The entire arena erupted in unprecedented roars!
Every gaze—from the stands, from the captain seats—fixed on the figure slowly walking to the center.
And Isayama Yomi's opponent was a long-serving academy Seat Officer, no weakling—roughly the level of a Tenth Seat in any division.