Three days later, the entrance ceremony was held in the grand auditorium of the Spiritual Arts Academy. As expected, both Sigong Zun and Ichigo Kurosaki had passed with flying colors. When the final rankings were posted on the bulletin board, Sigong's name was at the very top, with Ichigo's directly beneath it. From that moment on, they were no longer just anonymous souls; they were the Academy's newest prodigies, and whispers of their unprecedented test results had already begun to circulate through the ranks of the Gotei 13.
On the podium, the Dean was giving an impassioned speech, but he paid no mind to the two students he now valued so highly. Ichigo sat stiffly, his face a tight mask of boredom as he fought the urge to yawn. Sigong Zun, next to him, appeared to be daydreaming, his eyes vacant. In reality, he was focused inward, communing with his golden finger.
[O Transgressor, thy greatness is noted. Not only didst thou fell the Child of Destiny, but thou hast also shattered the historical record for admission to the Shin'ō Spiritual Academy. The Engine of Fate is pleased. A boon is granted: the "Compound Potion."]
A quick mental query revealed its properties: a vial that could be consumed twice per day to restore a small amount of spiritual pressure and stamina, refreshing at dawn.
Putting aside the system's slanderous accusation of murdering Ichigo, Sigong had begun to grasp its core principle. It was, in essence, an achievement system. Whenever he completed a significant feat or triggered a key event, this epic, bard-like narration would appear, bestowing upon him some boon—a spoil of war, a reward from fate, a tribute to a legend in the making. The name didn't matter; the benefits were real. He'd decided to call the system [Machine Soul], a name that felt fitting for the Soul Society.
This potion was his second gift, and he was quite satisfied. A tool that aided in cultivation was priceless, especially since he knew he had to work twice as hard to keep up with the "numerical monster" that was Ichigo Kurosaki.
"Ugh, I'm alive again," Ichigo groaned as they filed out of the auditorium, stretching his neck and shoulders.
"It was only an hour," Sigong noted calmly.
"Easy for you to say," Ichigo shot back, rolling his eyes. "If I could just daydream my way through it like you, it'd feel fast for me, too."
They chatted idly as they walked the tree-lined stone path back to the dormitories. The Academy only accepted around a hundred students per class, so housing everyone on campus was a manageable affair. The dormitory itself was a beautiful, three-story wooden building in the Taisho architectural style, reminiscent of the old schoolhouses often seen in manga. The first floor held the common areas—a courtyard, the cafeteria, and the bathhouses—while the upper floors were reserved for the male and female dorms. With an interior that felt more like a traditional hot spring inn than student housing, it managed to feel both public and strangely like home.
Each student was given their own room: a classic four-and-a-half tatami mat space.
"By the way," Ichigo said, pointing to the door next to his own. "Is the person in there part of our living group, too?"
"That's right." Sigong glanced at the nameplate, where a name had been elegantly brushed in ink. "Rindo Yu. If I remember correctly, he was sitting behind us in the auditorium. I hear he's deaf and mute."
"What?" Ichigo's expression soured. "You could have warned me! I don't want to be the guy who ostracizes his own teammate. I don't give a damn about my reputation for most things, but that's one label I'd rather die than have."
The Academy assigned students to three-person "living groups." As neighbors, they were often tasked with chores and duties together, a system designed to foster communication and camaraderie.
"Who said I didn't give you a heads-up?" Sigong said, raising his chin slightly. "Turn around."
Ichigo spun around and froze. Standing there silently was a handsome, taciturn young man.
"W-When did you… I didn't hear a thing…"
The young man, Rindo Yu, simply raised a hand. With a delicate movement of his fingertips, he traced a line of glowing spirit particles in the air.
[Nice to meet you. I am Rindo Yu.]
"Uh, I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, and this is Sigong Zun… Oh, sorry, I forgot you can't…" Ichigo fumbled, looking for a pen and paper, but Rindo was already writing another line.
[I can perceive emotions, so communication isn't an issue. Please don't feel you have to treat me differently. I will do my best not to be a burden.]
Ichigo felt a lump form in his throat. It wasn't just Rindo's unique way of communicating that struck him, but the quiet confidence with which he lived. It shattered every preconceived notion Ichigo had about people with disabilities. A genuine, warm smile spread across his face.
"I get it. It's good to have you with us, Rindo."
[Likewise.] Rindo wrote, a faint smile touching his own lips.
"So, how did you two greet each other earlier?" Ichigo asked, turning to Sigong.
"The same way I just got your attention."
Ichigo's eyes widened as he understood. That subtle lift of the chin could mean 'look over there,' 'let's go,' or 'keep up.' It was a surprisingly efficient, familiar gesture to use with a stranger. It spoke to a certain mindset Sigong possessed, an effortless ease with the world that was, in its own way, as remarkable as Rindo's.
That ease, however, vanished the next day when they were issued their Asauchi.
The Academy simply handed one to each new student. There was no dramatic trek to a dark, secret chamber to choose a fated blade, as Sigong had half-expected. These nameless Zanpakutō were merely on loan until graduation, a fact that led Sigong to suspect the Academy's indifference to sword-and-wielder compatibility was a major reason so few Shinigami ever achieved Shikai.
Regardless, he held no prejudice against his own blade. The look in his eyes as he gazed at the simple katana could only be described as reverent. His hand stroked the plain wooden scabbard with a tenderness one might reserve for a lover's skin, yet his fingers twitched with the eagerness to draw it and feel its weight in a practice swing.
"Sigong," Ichigo said, his mouth twitching. "You look like one of those old samurai who'd test their new blades on unfortunate passersby."
While Ichigo was excited by the prospect of the power the sword represented, he felt little for the object itself. It looked plain, almost disappointingly so, like a mass-produced handicraft.
"Are you sure you're a high school student?" Sigong asked, looking up with genuine suspicion.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Even an elementary school kid knows you pick up a good, straight stick when you see one on the road and swing it around."
"You said it yourself: elementary school. A high schooler wouldn't be so childish."
"True," Sigong conceded. "A high schooler is more realistic. They can't resist a cool fight. They can't resist possessing a cool power that sets them above everyone else. They can't resist the cool and noble passion of protecting the world, and they certainly can't resist the cool poses they'll strike when they become famous."
"…You're really leaning into the word 'cool,' aren't you?"
"Besides," Sigong added.
"There's more?!" Ichigo's eyes widened. He was so focused that he failed to notice a curious blonde girl standing just behind him and Rindo.
"Of course," Sigong said, his tone shifting to one of academic seriousness as he admired the Asauchi in his hands. "As Master Dayunahara explained, a Shinigami and their Zanpakutō are one. We must engrave our very essence into the blade to make it resonate and grow. That is how one achieves Shikai." He paused, letting the point land. "But that's not the most important part. The most important part is that a Zanpakutō has a soul. It is a partner that will fight by your side until the very end."
He leaned in, a conspiratorial glint in his eye.
"And if that partner just so happens to be a beautiful girl… what high school boy do you know who could possibly resist?"
Handsome, powerful, and a beautiful partner.
Gulp.
The three factors combined struck Ichigo with the force of a physical blow. It was a potent combination, though not enough to make him drool.
The quiet sound, however, was not his. In the next moment, Sigong, Ichigo, and Rindo all turned to look at the source of the noise.
The blonde girl didn't seem the least bit embarrassed at being caught. She casually wiped a bit of saliva from the corner of her mouth and beamed at them.
"I'm Yahachihara Kumaru!" she announced brightly. "I heard this year's top two prodigies were fresh from the World of the Living, and I'm super interested in modern gyaru culture. If you don't mind, let's be friends!"
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