"What… what did you just say?"
Ichigo blurted it out without thinking, the words tumbling from his mouth like a reflex.
The look on his face—wide-eyed, floored, completely blindsided—seemed to delight Aizen. His smile deepened, satisfaction curling at the edges.
"Before you misunderstand," he said smoothly, "I'm not joking."
"You've been living alongside Soma Kiryu day in and day out. With his sharp eyes and sharper mind, I'm sure he's noticed your problem. The instructors at the academy aren't incompetent either. And yet… none of them could offer you a single useful answer. Which means, to them, your case is hopeless."
"Kurosaki-kun, your Reiatsu is too strong. Too overwhelming to control. That's why, whenever you try Kidō, the spell overloads and backfires."
"I do know a way to keep that from happening. But…" His tone shifted. "That opens up a different problem."
"What problem?" Ichigo pressed immediately.
"Because the power is too much, right?" Soma cut in, sharp as ever.
Aizen adjusted his glasses, the faintest gleam crossing the lens. "Correct. Even if you manage to cast Kidō without it exploding, the root issue doesn't go away. You still can't control the force behind it."
"Picture this: you try a simple Shō, just to knock a sword out of someone's hand. Instead, you blow apart their arm… maybe half their body."
Ichigo froze, jaw tight. He didn't say anything, but the weight settled heavy in his eyes. The idea of killing someone that brutally—it made his gut twist. If Kidō meant causing carnage like that, he'd rather toss it aside and rely on his Zanpakutō.
"But there is another angle to consider." Aizen's tone turned almost casual. "Kaidō."
"…Huh? Healing Kidō?" Ichigo blinked.
Soma, however, caught on instantly. "Sensei means—if offensive Kidō is too destructive, focus on Kaidō instead."
"Exactly. Healing techniques thrive on raw output. The stronger they are, the better. You'd be able to patch yourself up mid-fight, or pull an ally back from the brink. More importantly, it gives your excess Reiatsu somewhere useful to go."
"Precisely," Aizen said, pleased.
"Sacrifice Kidō offense, rely on your Zanpakutō, Zanjutsu, even Hakuda for attack. Then let Kaidō cover defense and recovery. An unconventional balance, but brutally effective. Even if your opponent outclasses you, taking you down won't be simple. It's the kind of fighting style that keeps people up at night."
No kidding.
Soma couldn't help thinking—right now, the only Shinigami who could hack someone to pieces while healing themselves in real time was one infamous captain in Soul Society.
"I get the logic," Ichigo said, hesitant. "But… Kaidō isn't exactly easy to learn."
The academy had courses for it, sure, but the difficulty was sky-high. Most students brushed it off as useless in a fight and left it as an unpopular elective.
"I understand your concern," Aizen replied. "But it's unnecessary. You haven't realized it, but your control is exceptional."
"Normally, with Reiatsu this unstable, you'd have been sealed away long ago. Yet here you stand—proof that your power is still in your hands. With the right training, you can hone that control down to something precise."
"If not for that, I wouldn't dare claim I could help you. In cases like yours, technique means nothing. Only raw control matters."
The words lit something in Ichigo, an ember of confidence flaring to life.
"…Got it. Kaidō, huh? Then I'll master it."
"Good." Aizen's smile sharpened. "From here, I'll teach you both some practical Kidō applications. With the Recovery Chamber supporting you, your efficiency will skyrocket. Kurosaki-kun's problem won't last long."
"After that, you'll cover the basics of Kaidō at the academy. Once you've got your footing, I'll recommend you work shifts at the 4th Division's general treatment ward. Nothing builds skill like real cases." His gaze slid toward Soma.
"As for you, Soma Kiryu…" Aizen's smile warmed, unusually earnest. "You're the most gifted first-year the academy has ever seen. I doubt much can truly challenge you."
"But watching over the growth of those who come after you—and lending them a hand when needed—that's also my duty, as both a captain of the Gotei 13 and an instructor at the academy. Whatever you need—Kidō or otherwise—come to me anytime."
"…Really?" Soma blinked. That was… generous. Too generous. Almost like Aizen was trying to reel him in for something bigger.
"Of course," Aizen said lightly. "I look forward to watching your path as a Shinigami unfold."
Soma couldn't read him at all. But it didn't matter. He'd said it himself before: intentions were less important than actions.
"Then… I'll be in your care, Sensei." Soma bowed low.
Seeing that, Ichigo scrambled to mimic him, straightening his posture and bowing just as seriously.
…
By the time they left, the sky was already dark. Aizen personally walked them out of the barracks, watching their silhouettes shrink down the moonlit road before finally turning back inside.
Out on the veranda, half-swallowed by shadow, someone else waited—tall and thin, lounging against a pillar where the moonlight couldn't quite reach.
"My, my. Spent the whole day training those kids, did you? Captain Aizen, are you planning to gather a little entourage for me and the others too? Smart kids, sure, but they're not gonna be battlefield-ready anytime soon."
"Are you saying I wasted my time, Gin?"
"I'd never say that~" Gin Ichimaru's voice was lazy, sing-song, unreadable. "I'm sure Captain Aizen has his reasons. Just… it's not like your usual style, so it got me curious."
He spread his hands, all nonchalance. The grin stayed plastered in place, but like a fox—or maybe a snake—nothing behind it gave away what he really thought.
"My style, hm… seems you've been paying close attention, Gin."
"Knowing your boss is part of the job, right~?"
"Then you should pay even closer attention."
Gin faltered. Just a beat.
"Because if you really understood me," Aizen murmured, "you'd remember what I've always said—developments outside the plan can be even more valuable than the plan itself."
His eyes lifted to the moon, light catching on his glasses, but not in his gaze. The clouds drifted like shadows across the sky, reflections of the dark, endless thoughts roiling behind his calm expression.
"A Ichigo Kurosaki who died… and now, another boy emerging with equal potential, without warning. I feel it, Gin. The pull of fate."
He smiled faintly. "A cruel joke, perhaps. But one far more interesting than this disappointing world. Enough to stir even me into… action. If you think I'm acting out of character, that's the reason."
Gin frowned, confusion flickering across his foxlike face. For all his genius, he couldn't follow Aizen's thoughts. Not here. Not now.
And that was natural.
The one who cast aside his comrades and carried everything alone could never truly empathize with someone who had always been alone from the start.
And so Gin couldn't understand the joy in Aizen's voice.
Couldn't understand how, with a single careless encounter, Aizen had found someone capable of walking at his side—someone who could make him forget the path of solitude.