Time flew by.
Right after class, Soma Kiryu and Atae Rindō ran into Ichigo.
"Yo. How was it? You didn't fall asleep clutching a brush, did you?"
"If anyone could actually sleep through Aizen-sensei's lecture, their brain would have to be dosed with Collapse," Soma shot back with a raised brow.
"Collapse?" Ichigo frowned.
It's a powerful anesthetic. Supposedly even the strongest Shinigami can't resist it, Atae wrote, face unreadable.
"…Injecting anesthetic into your brain, huh? Only you'd come up with that. But you're saying he's really that good a teacher?"
"If I had to compare, it's like listening to one of the greatest thinkers of our time give a lecture. If he'd been born in Germany fifty years earlier, maybe humanity would've been united by now."
"That's not a thinker! That's a schemer. A smooth-talking manipulator with way too much ambition!"
"If you don't want to wake up at night with someone clubbing you over the head, keep your voice down." Soma jerked a thumb back toward the classroom without looking.
Ichigo instinctively glanced behind him. Through the window, he spotted a tall figure surrounded by students, clearly the man himself.
Didn't matter if Aizen was a fraud or a saint—trash-talking a popular teacher in front of his fan club was a great way to get jumped. Soma, of course, wouldn't lift a finger to stop it.
"Tch. Always exaggerating… Forget it, I'm out."
As Ichigo stomped off, Soma smirked. "Hey, Atae. Want to guess what his first words will be when he comes back tonight?"
No idea, Atae wrote, shaking his head.
"My bet? He'll say: 'Soma, you were totally right. I was way too cocky.'"
Atae paused mid-scribble, then wrote with unusual firmness: Honestly, I don't think we should get too close to that man.
"…?" Soma blinked. Atae was serious—rare for him.
Because I can barely feel any emotion from Aizen-sensei.
Soma's voice stayed calm. "Atae, you ever think maybe that's normal?"
Atae froze.
"We can't just look at someone and know if they're good or bad. Usually it takes time, trial and error. And even then, you'll be wrong more often than not."
"So why doesn't everyone live in constant paranoia? Because we're all in the same boat. If you can't read me, and I can't read you, sure, we're cautious—but you wouldn't automatically peg me as evil, right? Just… unfamiliar."
Atae hesitated, then gave a small nod.
"So yeah. You think Aizen's scary because you can't read him. Me? He's no different than anyone else. I never know what people are thinking, and I don't need to. What matters is what they do."
He clapped Atae's shoulder to drive the point home. "That's what counts."
Dorm 001 belonged to Soma.
As the sunset flared crimson outside, Ichigo shoved the door open.
"Soma, I hate to admit it, but sometimes you actually talk sense."
Soma glanced at Atae across the low table, snapping his book shut. His look said: Told you so.
Seems you guys are getting along, Atae wrote.
"Yeah," Ichigo grunted. He kicked off his shoes, plopped down cross-legged, and grabbed the glass of barley tea Soma had just poured for himself. Downed it in one go.
"Man, I was so into that class I forgot to drink water."
"Glad to hear it. Though now I'm disappointed—I was looking forward to seeing your dumb face tank the next exam." Soma shook his head, polishing his Asauchi.
"Don't underestimate me. I can pass fine without tutoring."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. So? What made you change your tune about Aizen-sensei?"
Ichigo grimaced, but gave in and explained.
Really, it boiled down to one thing:
Aizen's sincerity got to him. His teaching hit hard.
"At first I thought he was just another shady guy with glasses. But he's actually warm. Reliable. Helped me set up a study plan, even asked about problems in other classes… even in daily stuff. I owe him big time."
He sighed, ashamed of his earlier suspicion.
Soma tilted his head. "So, did you tell him about your… Kidō nuke problem?"
"I am not a Kidō nuke!" Ichigo exploded.
"So that's why people keep whispering when I walk by, huh? Don't tell me you're the one spreading rumors!"
"C'mon, Ichigo. You know me. If I've got something bad to say, I say it to your face. That's just low emotional intelligence."
"You actually used that as an excuse—?! Damn it, one of these days I'll roast you so hard you won't see it coming!"
"Better start beefing up your vocabulary first. You know your comebacks bounce right off me."
"…." Ichigo clenched his fists, barely holding back a punch.
"Hmph. Whatever. Guess what—Aizen-sensei invited me to the 5th Division this weekend. Said he can help with my Kidō issues."
"Weekend? Perfect. I'll tag along." Soma nodded like it was settled.
"Wait, you don't have Kidō issues."
"But Aizen-sensei asked you to pass along the invite for me too, didn't he?"
"…How the hell did you know that?" Ichigo gawked.
"Really? You think he'd skip out on the top student?"
Ichigo groaned and turned to Atae.
Atae calmly wrote: Soma did great in class. Aizen-sensei praised him highly.
"No wonder he warmed up when your name came up," Ichigo muttered.
"Geniuses attract each other," Soma said smugly.
"Guess that makes me a genius too." Ichigo smirked, catching him off guard.
"…Aren't you?" Soma blinked like it was obvious.
Ichigo paused, then broke into a grin. "Of course I am. All four of us—me, you, Atae, and Akari—we're geniuses."
"Speaking of which… where's Akari? She sent an e-Letter on her Denreishinki telling us to meet here, but she's the one missing."
Right on cue, the door slammed open.
Akari stormed in with all the force of a typhoon, holding a massive food box high above her head like treasure.
"Ta-da! Look what I brought!"
"Oh hell—pizza?!" Soma closed his toolkit, took the box, and flipped the lid. Sure enough, Human World pizza.
"They sell pizza in Soul Society?" Ichigo gawked.
"There's more!" Akari crowed, opening the other boxes one by one.
Pizza. Tomahawk steak. Creamy pasta. Fried chicken. Burgers. Fries.
Normal stuff in the Human World—but in Seireitei, where meals hadn't advanced much past pre-20th-century Japanese cuisine, it was a miracle. No curry, no ramen, definitely no fast food.
"So this is how you spent your afternoon?" Soma asked, catching on.
"Bingo!" Akari gave a thumbs-up.
"You know I'm obsessed with Human World culture. But it's not just me—my family's the same. We've got special channels to order from black market traders. But shhh, that's trade secret."
"Don't worry," Ichigo swore, staring reverently at the feast. "I'll take this secret to my grave."
Honestly, the sight alone sealed her legendary status in his eyes. If you wanted Human World food in Soul Society, this was the only way.
"Still, thanks. Getting all this couldn't have been easy." Soma's voice softened.
"Please. We're friends. And what kind of hostess doesn't throw a feast for her guests? Eat up!"
Then she smacked her forehead. "Oh right—no party without drinks!"
She whipped out two giant bottles.
Ichigo went pale. "Uh, I'm underage."
Akari rolled her eyes. "We're dead, Ichigo. You think Human World laws apply? Pretend you're a hundred already. That Shinigami who escorted us here looked like a middle schooler."
Soma snorted. "She's got a point."
"…Fine! Whatever."
"That's the spirit! To celebrate our bright future as Souls, I splurged on this stuff. They call it the 'water of life.' Tell me that isn't perfect!"
Even Soma's face froze for a split second. Ichigo's jaw hit the floor.
"'Water of life'… No way. You didn't actually—?! Akari, do you know how strong that stuff is?! You don't feel meaning after drinking it—you don't feel anything!"
"Oh? What's the matter, Ichigo? Chickening out?"
"—!"
Trapped, Ichigo had no way out.
Soma, meanwhile, looked perfectly calm. If he could treat Aizen with composure, what was a measly 96-proof vodka?
"Cheers!"
The four of them sat cross-legged in Soma's tiny four-and-a-half tatami dorm room, each taking a corner. The space didn't feel cramped—it felt perfect.
Atae stayed quiet, but he raised his cup along with them.
Outside, the crimson sunset had faded into darkness. Inside, the glow of lantern light mingled with laughter and warmth. The air filled with the heady burn of liquor and the comfort of belonging.