Soul Society, West Rukongai District 1 · Junrinan.
Soma Kiryu opened his eyes, stared blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling for a while, then rose from the futon. He changed into a clean, simple yukata and stepped out of the room.
"Up early, huh, Kurosaki?"
The moment he walked out, he saw the orange-haired boy at the well in the courtyard, washing up.
"Didn't really sleep much."
Ichigo tossed the towel onto his shoulder. A closer look revealed bloodshot eyes.
"You're wasting the elder's goodwill, you know."
Soma stretched lazily.
Sunlight poured down from above, sharp and brilliant. He couldn't tell where exactly that sun was hanging—whether at the edge of this world's sky or somewhere far beyond. He narrowed his eyes slightly, engraving that vast, alien sky into his heart.
The air filling his lungs was untouched by pollution, saturated with the freshness of nature. Combined with the rows of humble wooden houses around him, it was like stepping back into Edo-period Japan.
This was Soul Society—the land of the dead.
Thanks to Rukia, the two of them had been placed in the safest district.
With the help of a highly respected elder of the area, they weren't rejected as outsiders. Instead, they'd been given temporary lodging free of charge, along with clean clothes and food, allowing them to spend their first day in Soul Society in peace.
"Just to be clear, it's not like I'm complaining about the living conditions here," Ichigo muttered.
"Worried about failing the entrance exam?"
"Shut it!"
That reaction alone said enough.
"Relax. You're not gonna end up like that guy—Shūhei Hisagi, wasn't it?—who flunked twice. And look at him now, part of the captain-class big shots. Pretty inspiring story if you ask me."
Yesterday, they'd learned the basics of Soul Society from the elder.
And after seeing Rukia's power firsthand, Ichigo had been deeply intrigued by the life of a Shinigami.
Conveniently, Shin'ō Academy's enrollment for this year wasn't over yet. They could still make it if they applied now.
The choice was obvious.
Though in Rukongai the Shinigami's reputation was mixed, the elder had been open-minded, even encouraging. When he heard they wanted to apply, he gave them advice—mentioning that even a current high-ranking lieutenant had failed the exam in the past.
Soma figured the elder's point was to cushion them against failure. A little pep talk: even if you don't pass the first time, don't give up; the ones who pass immediately aren't necessarily better than you.
But Ichigo clearly hadn't taken it that way.
"If I can help it, I don't wanna wait a whole extra year… or more. It's not that I'm impatient, it's just—"
His voice grew weaker, almost fading into silence. His brow had been furrowed since yesterday and showed no signs of relaxing.
Soma walked over with a towel in hand, patted him on the shoulder, nudged him aside, and started washing up himself.
"Rukongai's full of all kinds of people. If the exam had a political screening stage, sure, we might get filtered out. But we're different. We had modern education, we've got talent, clean backgrounds, never broke the law, solid morals, and stayed out of trouble. We're basically model citizens."
He paused, smirking. "Only problem is, model citizens like us are the ones most likely to get bullied."
"…Yeah, fair enough. If I fail, I'll try another route. The elder said some squads recruit directly. As long as you've got a Zanpakutō and enough power, you're in. But if we beat out real Shinigami with some sword we picked up off the ground… wouldn't that make us hated?"
Ichigo's fire reignited quickly.
Soma was about to answer when suddenly words appeared before his eyes, like ink spreading across smoke.
[As a great transmigrator, your very first action was to take part in the murder of the Child of Destiny, the era's protagonist. The Machine Soul is greatly pleased…]
"Who? Who the hell are you saying murdered Ichigo?!"
Soma kept his expression steady, but rage surged inside.
Even if you're my cheat system, you don't just throw around accusations like that. That's outright slander.
[Your boldness has earned you the world's respect. You have a gift waiting to be claimed. Will you accept?]
"…Accept."
[——You have obtained Märchen Dragon · Blood of Cinderella. Your physical ability has greatly increased. Growth rate +1000%.]
Thump.
A strange heartbeat echoed in his chest.
On the surface, nothing seemed different. But Soma could clearly feel a new force within him, intertwining with his existing spiritual energy and fusing into something stronger.
His grip tightened. His breath grew more powerful. Holding a bucket now felt no different from holding a single grain of sand.
This wasn't the athletic ability gained through honing Reiryoku.
It felt more like an innate talent—comparable only to the Hollow powers born from compressed, high-density souls.
As for "growth rate +1000%"…
By Soma's interpretation, it meant his physical training would improve ten times faster than before.
That was the kind of gift only geniuses had—not just great potential, but the ability to realize it quickly.
"…So, did I just become a 'dragon'? Or is this the power of a 'Dragon Host'?"
In Europe of this world, there existed an organization that opposed Soul Society, and dragons and Dragon Hosts were their creations.
The one in Soma's memories hadn't seemed all that powerful.
But in this world, hybrids were always the ultimate answer.
After all, most Hollows, Shinigami, Quincy, and even Fullbringers weren't that overwhelmingly strong.
The key was that their powers were fundamentally different.
By combining those differences, one could shatter the limits of the soul.
Break free from the constraints imposed by the world itself—until surpassing everything and standing above creation.
That was the road Aizen had chosen. And perhaps, one day, it would be his too.
"…."
Soma bent down, splashing water onto his face. Cold droplets slid down his cheeks, soaking strands of his hair.
His eyes, bright as polished mirrors, reflected only one thing.
The path forward was clear.
He had to get into Shin'ō Academy. He had to become a Shinigami.
"Good luck on your exam," a neighbor said as they left.
"Thanks."
After breakfast, they bid farewell to the elder and the children who had taken a liking to them.
With their travel passes in hand, Soma and Ichigo officially entered Seireitei and arrived at the gates of Shin'ō Academy.
Looking up at the ancient plaque, its characters carved who-knew-how-many centuries ago, both boys felt their hearts surge with excitement.
"Oi, Kurosaki."
"Yeah?"
"See? Told you I was right."
"…About what?"
"Getting run over by a truck is protagonist treatment. Then you meet the goddess and get sent to another world."
"…Fine, I'll give you that one. But let's be real—she didn't look anything like a goddess."
"Wanna hear the next part?"
"What next part?"
"You get crazy powers in another world. Protect the kingdom as a hero. Defeat the demon king. Marry the princess. Happy ending."
"…That's just a game plot, isn't it? I'm not some chuunibyou. I don't care about playing hero, killing demon kings, or marrying princesses. But… the rest, I wouldn't mind."
"Then let's go. Our school life in another world starts now."
"Dying only to end up in school again… this really is hell in its own way."
They joked, but the truth was clear in their steps as they crossed the gate.
Their confidence practically radiated from them.
As far as they were concerned, that acceptance letter was already in the bag.