The moment class ended, the white-haired instructor shuffled out of the lecture hall at an unhurried pace.
Mizuhara Shin had just yawned and slumped forward onto his desk when a familiar voice rang beside his ear.
"Takikawa-kun!"
He tilted his eyes sideways.
A petite girl with chestnut, shoulder-length hair had stopped by his seat. She wore the Academy's red-and-white uniform, her figure small and delicate—but the stern expression on her pretty face dulled some of that charm.
"You haven't submitted your graduation exam application."
"Isn't it voluntary?" Shin replied without lifting his head, voice muffled against the desk. "I doubt I'm the only one who didn't turn it in."
Seated beside him, Hisagi Shūhei was organizing his textbooks. He glanced over at the exchange but said nothing.
Kaniezawa's brows knit slightly. "What exactly are you implying?"
As one of Class A's two class representatives, she handled her responsibilities with unwavering diligence. Unfortunately, that same conscientiousness made her seem distant. She didn't have many friends. On most days, the only people she spoke to for more than a few sentences were the two boys in front of her.
Shin turned his head lazily to look at her, speaking at an even, unhurried pace.
"I just feel like my performance across all subjects isn't solid enough. I don't have much confidence in passing the graduation exam. No need to overestimate myself."
Kaniezawa's eyes flickered with surprise. She instinctively glanced at Hisagi Shūhei, who could only offer a helpless look in return.
"You're not planning to graduate this year?"
"I'd like to improve myself a bit more."
After a moment's thought, Kaniezawa pulled out a roster and skimmed through it. Many names were already listed—students applying to take the graduation exam. Their homeroom instructor, Nanda-sensei, would review the list again, crossing out those who clearly didn't meet the standard. The remaining candidates would be sent to the formal assessment. Only those who met the requirements would graduate successfully.
Shūhei handed over another roster. "Please give this to Nanda-sensei as well."
As the other class representative of Class A, he handled the same responsibilities.
Kaniezawa accepted it and examined the page carefully. Her confusion deepened.
"Why isn't your name here either?"
"Same reason as this guy," Shūhei replied calmly.
"… "
She fell silent and quietly put both rosters away.
Shūhei stood up and lightly kicked Shin's calf. "Next is Kidō class. Different classroom. Stop sleeping."
Takikawa Shin was a genius—at least, that was how their homeroom teacher, Nanda Hidezawa, saw him. But the man was equally exasperated by Shin's lazy disposition. In his eyes, it was a complete waste of talent.
"That's really what he said?" Nanda Hidezawa asked thoughtfully after hearing Kaniezawa's report.
She nodded. "Hisagi-kun said the same."
Nanda frowned. "What are those two up to?"
Kaniezawa hesitated before adding, "Takikawa-kun has been absent quite a bit lately. Not just yesterday's kendo class—he also skipped the Kidō theory lecture the day before. Maybe he realized his shortcomings and wants another year to study."
She recalled how he'd been sprawled across his desk earlier, looking utterly indifferent. The words felt hollow even to her own ears.
Nanda continued flipping through the roster. He knew his students' abilities well. In his estimation, the number who could graduate smoothly this year could be counted on one hand. And yet the one with the greatest potential didn't seem interested in graduating early.
The Academy's graduation exam was extremely difficult for fourth-year students. And even after passing it, there were entrance examinations for the Gotei Thirteen, the Kidō Corps, and the Onmitsukidō. Fail those, and you'd be sent back to the Academy to repeat your training.
Nanda let out a quiet sigh. "If they truly have that kind of self-awareness, then perhaps it's not a bad thing."
He looked at Kaniezawa. "And you? Same reason?"
She pressed her lips together and gave a silent nod.
Kidō practical class was held outdoors.
By fourth year, students had already completed all theoretical coursework the Academy could offer. The fifth and sixth years focused primarily on practical experience—assisting in Soul Burials in the World of the Living, performing internal duties within Soul Society—to lay the groundwork for becoming full-fledged Shinigami.
As for Kidō practice, the fourth-years had already drilled it countless times. The difference now was merely proficiency.
Officially, the Academy taught all Kidō up to number seventy. In daily practice, however, students typically trained only up to number fifty. In more important assessments, they would touch on spells between fifty and seventy, chosen according to each student's Spiritual Pressure level. Perfect execution was not required.
Higher-level Kidō demanded substantial Spiritual Pressure. Academy students—who were not yet official Shinigami—simply couldn't sustain the burden. Once they became full Shinigami, they could pursue further mastery on their own.
Shin's Kidō proficiency ranked among the top in his cohort. It wasn't just because of the system—his natural talent was equally formidable. With Spiritual Pressure at Lv13, he far surpassed the average Academy student.
By his estimate, even a standout like Hisagi Shūhei hovered around Lv7.
"Yo, everyone."
When they arrived at the outdoor classroom, they discovered it wasn't their usual instructor waiting for them. Instead, a handsome young man in black shihakushō stood at the front.
Most of the students recognized him: Shiba Kaien, Vice-Captain of the Thirteenth Division. He had substituted at the Academy before.
The Academy frequently invited high-ranking members of the Gotei Thirteen, the Kidō Corps, and the Onmitsukidō to lecture—sometimes even captains.
Kaien was easygoing, well-liked among the students. The only catch was that whenever he visited, he vigorously promoted the Thirteenth Division, "persuading" talented students to list it as their preferred assignment upon graduation.
"Long time no see," Kaien greeted with a bright smile. "I'll be teaching today."
His gaze swept across the students. When it met Shin's, he deliberately winked.
"…Feels like he's here for you," Shūhei muttered under his breath.
Each year, the Academy produced many graduates—but only a handful were exceptional. Fourth-years weren't yet at official graduation, but they could apply for early completion. Kaien's intentions were obvious.
Shin sighed. "It's normal for someone as outstanding as me to attract attention."
Shūhei: "…"
After a pause, Shūhei asked quietly, "Did you reject Matsumoto-san because you're planning to join the Thirteenth Division?"
"No."
Kaien exchanged a few friendly words with some familiar faces before clapping his hands.
"Enough chatter. We'll start with Hado resonance training. First pair: Takikawa Shin, Aoshika."
He began calling names from the roster.
Shin rose alongside a tall, long-faced boy and stepped forward. About twenty meters ahead stood several targets made of special killing stone. Unlike the wooden targets used by lower years, these could withstand the force of higher-level Kidō.
Fourth-years had already mastered spells below number fifty. Their power had begun to take shape—ordinary wooden targets would shatter instantly.
Kaien smiled at Shin. "Let's start with Hado #63 today."
A collective groan rippled through the class. Hado #63—Raikōhō—was notoriously difficult among students.
Kaien's smile didn't fade. "What are you complaining about? Your exams will be capped at seventy. If you don't grasp spells between fifty-one and seventy, you'll lose points."
When the murmurs subsided, Shin calmly raised his arm, eyes settling on the white killing-stone target.
No hesitation.
"Hado #63—Raikōhō!"
Golden lightning erupted from his palm, bursting outward in a dense web of crackling arcs before converging sharply into a concentrated beam that struck the target dead center.
Kaien lifted a brow. "Tch."
Just from the form alone, the Raikōhō was near perfect. The killing-stone target obscured the true destructive force, but the Spiritual Pressure fluctuation told Kaien enough.
"This kid…"
Several students gasped quietly.
Kaien's smile deepened as he turned to Aoshika.
Aoshika inwardly cursed. Since when did Shin skip the incantation? The pressure was immense.
Under countless gazes, Aoshika wanted to finish just as cleanly. But he knew he couldn't. He began the full chant obediently.
"Hado #63—Raikōhō!"
Spiritual Pressure surged violently. Golden lightning exploded outward in a chaotic net before him.
The instant he released the spell, Aoshika felt the Spiritual Pressure within him spiral out of control. He couldn't compress it like Shin had. Just as panic set in—
His vision blurred.
When he regained clarity, he found himself two meters farther back.
Aoshika panted, shaken. "Th-thank you, Vice-Captain Shiba!"
Kaien chuckled. "As long as you're not hurt."
Shin returned to his seat. Aoshika, embarrassed, glanced at him. The contrast deepened his frustration.
Why did I have to be paired with this guy?!
Kaien checked the roster again and noted Aoshika's strong academic marks. After brief consideration, he adjusted.
"Let's move to Hado #54 next."
A wave of relief swept through the class.
"You really like showing off," Shūhei muttered.
"I'm naturally handsome."
"… "
Training continued. Aside from Shūhei and Kaniezawa, who executed their spells cleanly, most students faltered to varying degrees. Some of the weaker ones couldn't cast at all.
Kaien corrected each mistake patiently, then ran another round of Hado and Bakudō practice in the fifty range.
As class neared its end, the students were given free time. Clusters formed—some discussing Kidō theory, others chatting idly. Kaien was soon surrounded, animatedly recounting amusing stories from the Thirteenth Division.
Shin lay alone on the wooden floor, hands behind his head, gazing up at the azure sky. He enjoyed the quiet.
A shadow fell across him.
"Kaniezawa-san. Something you need?"
She sat beside him, studying his refined features.
"Your grades are excellent. The graduation exam shouldn't be a problem for you."
"Not at all. My Kaidō scores are pretty bad," Shin replied casually.
She didn't believe him. His "bad" was only relative to Aoshika, who ranked first in Kaidō.
The graduation exam assessed overall competence. Even specialists could pass. In her view, Shin's kendo skill alone exceeded the threshold.
After a pause, she said softly, "I didn't apply for the exam either."
"Is that so?"
He sounded utterly indifferent.
The response choked off the speech she had prepared. She remembered deliberately crossing out her own name on the roster.
Without another word, she stood and left.
The top three students of Class A's fourth-years all had no intention of graduating early. She wondered what Nanda-sensei would think.
Once her footsteps faded, Shin slowly closed his eyes.
The dismissal bell rang. Morning classes were over. Fourth-years typically had only three classes per day—two in the morning, one in the afternoon—leaving ample free time.
With graduation season approaching and new students yet to arrive, off-campus practice had lessened.
Students filtered out of the outdoor classroom. Just as Shin prepared to rise, he saw Kaien—who should have already left—approaching him with a grin.
"Come on. Lunch is on me."
Academy cafeteria.
"Why am I paying if you're the one inviting me?"
"Forgot my money today."
Shin stared speechlessly at the vice-captain. They sat by a window near the edge. Kaien's shihakushō drew no shortage of attention from passing students.
"Man, the food here brings back memories," Kaien said between mouthfuls.
"You only studied here for a year," Shin replied.
Kaien had graduated in just one year and entered the Thirteenth Division as Third Seat—causing a sensation. If Shin was considered a genius, Kaien was a genius among geniuses. Add the Shiba surname, and he was wrapped in countless halos.
The captain of the Thirteenth Division, Ukitake Jūshirō, was chronically ill. As vice-captain, Kaien effectively managed division affairs—a man of strength, capability, and charisma.
His future was limitless.
"Let's skip the nostalgia. You know why I'm here, right?" Kaien said.
"You want me in your division?"
Kaien's expression said, You're sharp.
"I'm sure Matsumoto-san has approached you. Sure, the Tenth Division captain is my uncle—but he's… not exactly reliable. There's no future sticking under him. Come to my division instead. When I become captain, maybe I'll promote you to my vice-captain."
He spoke ill of his own uncle without hesitation and painted a grand promise in the air.
Vice-captain?
Shin smiled faintly at him.
If everything went smoothly, Kaien would absolutely become a captain.
If everything went smoothly.
"I'm not graduating this year," Shin said plainly. "Not next year either."
Kaien's smile finally faltered. "Why?"
He valued Takikawa Shin because of his talent. In his eyes, Shin had already reached graduation standard.
Shin didn't elaborate.
"I'll consider the Thirteenth Division first when I do graduate. But over these next two years, there's something I want to accomplish. I hope you'll help me."
Interest flickered in Kaien's eyes. "Let's hear it."
Shin spoke slowly.
"I want to establish an official organization among the Academy students. I can't do it as just an ordinary student. But if you step in—as Vice-Captain of the Thirteenth Division and future head of the Shiba Clan—it'll be much easier."
The smile gradually left Kaien's face.
His gaze sharpened on Shin.
"You're from Rukongai, aren't you?"
A grin spread across Shin's face.
"Yeah. Zaraki District. Got a problem with that?"
Kaien snorted softly, eyes unreadable.
"That's some ambition you've got."A new book—guaranteed 4K words daily, updates at this time every night. Please support and take care of it!