The academy uniform was a standardized outfit—a variation on traditional kimono. Its distinct style, paired with the wooden schoolhouse, created the atmosphere of an old private academy.
But some people were destined never to blend in as ordinary students.
Like Shinomiya Takashi, Ichigo, and also Hachihara Kumoru.
She claimed to love human-world culture—and no one doubted it. Her look screamed it. Not only did she wear light lip gloss and makeup on her brows and eyes, she had glossy blonde hair tied into a side ponytail, and her youthful skin had been bronzed into a smooth, chocolate-like tan.
She was the picture of a gyaru-style JK straight out of the living world.
Ichigo couldn't help but ask, "So… you're from the living world too?"
"Nope! Born and raised in Seireitei. My family runs a clothing store. We borrow heavily from living-world trends, and it's insanely popular. That's what got me curious—so I started researching, and now I'm totally hooked~"
Kumoru waved like a beckoning cat, smiling without the slightest hesitation as she revealed this about herself.
"Yeah… figures."
Ichigo's mouth twitched. He forced himself not to comment on her look. To people with normal tastes, gyaru beauty could feel like coffee with way too much sugar—sweet to the point of being hard to swallow.
"Clothes from the living world, huh… Different from Rukongai. Seireitei's more up to date than I thought."
Shinomiya mused to himself.
"Hmm, that could be a problem."
[ Problem? ]
Rindō wrote on the desk.
"Nothing serious. Just thinking ahead about daily life."
"What do you mean?" Ichigo asked, out of habit.
"Well, back in the living world, you'd work part-time during breaks, right?"
"…I think I get it. You're saying you want to earn money here too, live like the rich. Maybe borrow some business ideas from the human world. Even one successful product would cover all our expenses."
"Exactly. But Kumoru's words made me realize something. The Soul Society only looks outdated on the surface. Some things already exist here, and others lack demand. So making money might not be so easy after all."
Shinomiya sighed in disappointment.
He had been entertaining dreams of building a Shinomiya Conglomerate in the Soul Society, to show those nobles clinging to past glory what a true capitalist of the new era looked like.
"Now that you mention it, our living stipends are from the academy. They just cover food and necessities—nothing extra. So if we wanted to buy a few living-world outfits at Kumoru's family shop, forget it."
Ichigo scratched his head, realizing the seriousness of it.
"If you come by, I'll give you guys the lowest possible discount!"
Kumoru laughed brightly, making a peace sign and winking cutely.
"…We'll think about it later."
Spotting the teacher approaching, Shinomiya ended the conversation.
Still, that casual approach had broken the ice, and soon they grew more familiar.
Especially since Kumoru never got tired of chatting with them about the human world in private.
From the outside, it looked like after drawing Rindō into their circle, the "prodigy duo" had now brought the third-ranked student of the year into their group as well—forming the academy's most eye-catching clique.
Other students looked on enviously, but the bar for entry—at least spiritual power of seventh-rank officer level—was simply too high.
And so, before they realized it, a week of the semester had flown by.
Classes in every subject had begun in earnest.
Shinomiya, burning with enthusiasm for learning, barely noticed how quickly time was passing.
One noon in the sword training hall—
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Bang!
A strike like a thunderclap crashed down on Ichigo.
Had it been a real sword, his body would already be slashed open from shoulder to abdomen, ribs shattered, his organs exposed.
He was grateful his opponent wielded only a wooden blade.
At least that way, there was still a chance to turn the tables.
"I won't be beaten by the same move twice!"
He blocked the slash, steadied his footing, and seized the opening in his opponent's attack to launch a swift counter.
In terms of fighting spirit and reaction time, he wasn't bad at all—enough for the nearby kendo instructor to mentally award him a "high grade."
Unfortunately, Shinomiya Takashi simply didn't play fair.
He met Ichigo's fierce flurry head-on, standing unshaken, like a reef withstanding pounding waves.
Once he grew accustomed to Ichigo's attack rhythm, he suddenly pressed forward with a heavy step—like a riot officer with a shield, forcing the suspect back by sheer size and power until they stumbled.
Then he abruptly pulled back, creating space for a full swing, and with a textbook Tachikaze slash, knocked Ichigo down in one blow.
Though to be honest, the result looked more like raw brute force smashing an opponent flat.
"Damn it… your swordsmanship and martial arts technique aren't better than mine, but no matter how I fight, I can't beat you."
Ichigo rubbed his aching wrist, both frustrated and helpless.
"That's the charm of good stats," Shinomiya replied, accepting a towel from Hachihara as he wiped off sweat.
"But you've improved fast. You can hold out against me for quite a while now. At first you went down in a single strike. At this rate, it won't be long before you…"
"Before I beat you?"
"…before you can lose more gracefully."
Ichigo nearly lost his temper. Veins bulged on his forehead as he forced a grin. "Oh yeah? Wanna go again? I think I've still got some fight left. You can use the same tactic and see if it still works."
Shinomiya gave him a look of pity.
"Don't waste your energy. Even if I don't use any tactics at all, just sparring with you, I could still win through endurance. I just don't bother because it'd be a waste of time."
"You bastard…! Just you wait!"
Ichigo ground his teeth, vowing to find a chance to throw that line back at him one day.
"You two sure are fired up. Are all students from the living world like this?" Hachihara commented from the side.
"That depends on the country," Shinomiya said calmly. "But this guy's just disgusted with his own kidō. With that self-destructive kidō style of his, he knows he can't achieve well-rounded growth, so he desperately tries to make up for it elsewhere."
He mercilessly exposed Ichigo's inner thoughts.
After a week of classes, everyone's performance clearly showed how much talent mattered.
Take their little group for example—
Hachihara, lively and energetic, had sharp senses and endless energy. She learned quickly, but her willfulness was a problem. She only cared about hakuda and shunpo, and had little interest in zanjutsu or kidō, so her grades were average.
This kind of selective excellence was even more troublesome for teachers, who quickly labeled her a "problem child."
Rindō, despite being deaf and mute, had an inner strength beyond imagination. His control over spiritual power was abnormal, as if he were born for kidō—learning spells as though guided by the gods.
In other areas, though, he was just average—nothing exceptional, but solid for a first-year.
At least, unlike Hachihara, he worked hard.
Ichigo, on the other hand, excelled in zanjutsu and hakuda. His raw combat talent overflowed—so much that every instructor who saw him marveled, praising him as a natural-born fighter, the perfect successor for the captains of the Gotei 13.
But once they heard that he'd nearly blown up the entire practice field in kidō class with a misfired Shakkahō, their excitement dimmed.
The "future captain" praise wasn't withdrawn, but silently edited with an invisible note: "11th Division only."
Finally, Shinomiya Takashi.
His performance lived up to his record-breaking entrance results.
The textbook definition of a true genius.
Sword, fist, step, spell—he excelled in everything.
And with the physical specialization and growth buff from his Dragon's Blood, he had massive natural advantages in zanjutsu and hakuda.
Which meant Ichigo's plan—to become number one in those two subjects, grow stronger, and regain lost pride—was dead on arrival.
"You're acting like you're so much better just because you can cast Shakkahō… As if your kidō's leagues ahead of mine. And don't talk to me about effort—you've got no right to say I'm not trying."
Ichigo curled his lip.
"You're the one who sneaks in extra training at night. Where the hell do you even get the stamina?"
"?"
Hachihara's eyes widened in disbelief at Shinomiya.
To her, Ichigo was already hardworking—studying after class, far more diligent than his rebellious look suggested. Surprisingly earnest.
And now she learned there was someone even more obsessive?
Training through the night? They'd only been enrolled for a week!
Was that really necessary?
"I only tried it once. You just happened to catch me."
That was during one of his experiments with "compound potions."
He discovered that while they could dull the fatigue of sleepless nights, they didn't restore the energy drained by a full day of training.
So he had quickly abandoned the idea.
Just then, Rindō wrote a line.
[ This afternoon there's a calligraphy class. Are you all going? ]
"Calligraphy class… not really my thing. I hear the teacher's a popular captain, but I don't want to miss the new shipment of goods from the living world. So, pass~"
Hachihara tapped her chin thoughtfully, then shook her head with some regret.
"Me neither. I've already scheduled a spar with the sword instructor, and I can't back out. But I do need to meet with the calligraphy lecturer, so I'll head over after."
Though the headmaster had made plenty of allowances for him, cultural knowledge was still Ichigo's weak point.
It showed in daily study—sometimes he couldn't even grasp the grammar of the textbooks, struggling to understand, often forced to ask Shinomiya for help.
Ichigo hated bothering others.
Thankfully, the headmaster had prepared in advance, arranging a tutor for him.
And that tutor was none other than the calligraphy lecturer.
Since the lecturer didn't appear often, Ichigo hadn't had a chance to meet him until today.
"Then I'll go with Rindō to check it out."
Shinomiya considered it. A normal calligraphy class might be skippable, but that man's class was worth attending no matter what.
"Alright then, see you after class," Ichigo said, suddenly energized—he felt that while they were stuck in a culture lecture, he could catch up a little in training.
What he didn't know was that Shinomiya carried a "Growth Rate +1000" buff.
At least in the basics of swordsmanship and martial arts, Ichigo had no hope of catching up through ordinary means.