From the very first impression, Soma Kiryu felt like calligraphy class was more of a club meeting than an elective.
Because there were that many people.
The entire lecture hall was crammed to capacity, and anyone without a seat had to turn around and leave, sulking.
Since Soma and Atae Rindō had no afternoon classes, they showed up early and shamelessly snagged prime seats—front row, dead center.
"Looks like most of the crowd's upperclassmen," Soma muttered.
Apparently, the longer you stayed in the Academy, the more you felt the pull of this course.
They didn't have to wait long. Their special lecturer, wearing a captain's haori, appeared on the platform. The warmth in his voice as he greeted them washed over the room like spring sunlight.
"Good afternoon, everyone."
"As usual, let me briefly introduce myself for the new faces. My name is Sōsuke Aizen. I serve as captain of the 5th Division in the Gotei 13, but today I stand before you only as a teacher."
"It's my honor—and my joy—to share with you my thoughts on calligraphy. Seeing so many of you here gives me great encouragement. It proves we're walking this road together."
"But enough small talk. Let's begin—"
He pulled a white scroll from his sleeve and unfurled it on the board. The stark contrast of ink on paper wasn't what stunned Soma. It was the character itself.
"…."
Soma, who'd studied both Japanese and English calligraphy back in the Human World, understood what level meant.
Aizen had written a single character: "mountain."
Except… at first glance, nobody would recognize it as the word "mountain." It looked like a landscape painting. A black mountain towered on the paper, bold and alive, a raw visual shock.
Only after a beat did the brain catch up and realize—wait. That is the character for "mountain."
"In past lessons, I've said this often: calligraphy is art, not technique. What matters most is spiritual cultivation."
"For this character, I used no special tricks. I simply wrote the mountain as I understood it."
His tone was light, almost playful. "That's why this class has no textbook. All that matters is showing up. Don't worry about keeping pace—just being here is enough."
Whether that reassured the new students, Soma couldn't say. But he definitely felt the draw of the class.
Aizen wasn't lecturing. He was sharing.
Even Ichigo could've followed this lesson.
…Okay, maybe not. But Soma got it.
Japanese calligraphy evolved into pure artistic expression. Words became performance art. Letters twisted, broke, and reformed into emotions. Innovation mattered more than tradition.
Some pieces looked like children's scribbles, others like unsettling distortions, others split characters in half. Many were more abstract than abstract art itself.
No wonder Aizen avoided "proper" instruction—teach it straight, and students would churn out ordinary words with no soul.
Soma leaned back and whispered, "Atae, think they added this class just to help us vent stress?"
Atae thought for a moment, then scribbled: I think it's fun.
"…Fair enough." Soma shrugged. In a school without clubs, finding something actually enjoyable was rare.
On the stage, Aizen's voice carried again: "To show how calligraphy shapes spiritual growth, I'd like one student to come up and write a character. Any volunteers?"
The effect was instant.
Every hand shot up. Students practically leapt out of their seats, some shouting in desperation to be noticed. The hall turned chaotic.
Aizen just smiled warmly, calm as ever, scanning the room before settling on Soma in the front row.
"Let's go with this student."
Every head whipped toward him—and the frustration was palpable.
Soma sat there stone-faced, one hand raised. Nothing unusual. Except in that hand was… a sheet of paper. Already written on. Holding it up like a cue card on a game show. How could Aizen not notice it?
And of course, before Aizen even asked, Soma rose smoothly to his feet, turned, and displayed the character to the room.
No words. No smugness. No grandstanding.
Just casual, unhurried confidence. Like this was the most normal thing in the world.
The students stared. Weird. He was weird. They couldn't explain why, but god, he was weird.
"…Well," Aizen murmured, choosing his words carefully. "If I'm not mistaken, you must be the first-year prodigy—Kiryu-kun?"
Soma ignored the murmurs around him and asked bluntly, "Aizen-sensei, how do you think my character looks?"
He wanted to know exactly how his calligraphy measured up in Aizen's eyes.
"Excellent," Aizen said without hesitation.
"At first glance, it looks like two separate characters. But combined, they form the character for collapse."
"You separated the halves deliberately. Does it symbolize things breaking apart? Or perhaps something broader—that two different forms can fuse into something new, the opposite of collapse, a philosophy of unity through opposition?"
"Or maybe it's a warning: what's forcibly pieced together will eventually fall apart. A fable in character form."
"And aesthetically, it carries real weight."
"Such ingenuity, and with beauty besides. Clearly, the Academy underestimated you, Kiryu-kun."
With that, the room's view of Soma shifted sharply. No one had ever heard Aizen give such unreserved praise. Suddenly, there was real respect in the air.
"Do you see now?" Aizen addressed the room again. "A genius like Kiryu understands things more deeply. That understanding strengthens spiritual cultivation."
"Many assume calligraphy is useless for Shinigami work. Of course, I won't deny—no brush stroke can cut down an enemy with resolve."
He adjusted his glasses and smiled.
"But every character you write is unique to you. Calligraphy is writing your own heart. Through it, I want you to understand yourselves better. To sharpen your convictions."
"That, in turn, will help you resonate with your Zanpakutō. Even grasp high-level Kidō. And once you become Shinigami, it will shape the unique way you walk your path."
His words weren't loud or dramatic, but they carried a strange pull. Distractions slipped away, thoughts aligning naturally with his rhythm.
By the end, the lecture felt less like a class and more like a spiritual baptism.
It wasn't just "stress relief." It was fuel. A shot of courage to every single person there.
And that was why this "silly" calligraphy course was so beloved.
Not just because of Aizen's personal charm. But because what he offered truly mattered.