"Another year gone by... and somehow, I've gotten even more handsome. Ahh~ what a curse it is to be me."
Early the next morning, Ichirō Tenshin stood before the mirror, carefully straightening his uniform, admiring his own reflection with all the seriousness of ritual worship. His expression was one of divine self-appreciation.
"Yeah, yeah, you're the most handsome man in the world," Urahara grumbled, pushing Ichirō aside with a look of pure disdain. "Now move, you narcissist."
The gathering the night before hadn't been anything wild.
Most of the attendees weren't especially close; it was more of a polite farewell as the student classes were reshuffled. Ichirō, having lived two lives already, now sought simplicity — he'd had enough of juggling social masks and hollow small talk. Too many friends only meant too much noise.
So he had sat quietly in a corner, joining in only when politeness required it, and left when it was time — unnoticed, unbothered, and perfectly content.
"Come on, Urahara, you're so slow."
Now leaning lazily against the doorframe, Ichirō tapped his foot impatiently.
"Stop yapping! If you hadn't hogged the mirror for ten minutes, I'd be done already!" Urahara snapped back, adjusting his belt with an air of tragic indignation.
"Tch. Amazing how putting on pants makes you bold."
Urahara shot him a glare, running both hands through his messy blond hair before stepping out of the dorm room.
"Let's go."
"Yeah, yeah."
As they walked, Urahara clasped his hands behind his head, glancing sidelong at Ichirō.
"You really don't plan on talking to the others more? That's gonna make things rough later."
Ichirō shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I'm done with the kind of life where you have to flatter everyone and walk on eggshells. I finally get to live a second time — I'd rather make it easy on myself."
"Fair enough. Guess it makes sense — you weren't born in Soul Society, after all," Urahara replied with a small smile. "Still, no friends means trouble when you join the Gotei 13 later."
"I'll deal with it then. Besides," Ichirō added with a smirk, "I've got you two, don't I?"
Urahara chuckled softly. "Heh~"
With Ichirō's talent, he'd be fine no matter what — as long as he didn't do something suicidal like insulting a noble clan.
Their conversation carried them to the front of the girls' dormitory. The two loitered there, idly chatting while waiting for Yoruichi.
Once she appeared, the trio set off together for class — just like they had almost every morning for the past year.
Sometimes Ichirō wondered if the reason Urahara and Yoruichi still hadn't admitted their feelings for each other… might actually be him.
But then he remembered — in the original timeline, those two had danced around it for centuries. Clearly, his presence wasn't to blame.
---
As they stepped into the classroom, the three of them froze.
Urahara and Yoruichi turned to stare at Ichirō — the window seat in the back row, his usual spot, was gone.
Over the past year, they'd learned that Ichirō had an almost mystical attachment to that seat. If there was ever a "choose your own spot" activity, he'd claim that one without fail.
This was the first time someone had beaten him to it.
Would he confront them? Negotiate? Or just sulk quietly?
To their surprise, Ichirō didn't do any of that.
He simply walked to the third seat from the wall — still near the window, though not his beloved corner — and sat down.
Not perfect… but still center stage.
I, Tenshin Ichirō, will never be ordinary.
Urahara and Yoruichi exchanged a look, both catching the flicker of confidence in his eyes. Amused, they sat beside him.
"Wow," Urahara said, raising a brow, "you're not sitting in your usual spot. That's rare."
Ichirō propped his chin on his arm, glaring lazily at him. "Don't make me sound like some weirdo. I'm fine sitting anywhere."
"Is that so?" Urahara teased. "Then next time, how about giving me the window seat?"
"Heh~"
Two syllables. Enough to shut him up.
—
At that moment, a girl with a long ponytail sat down in front of Ichirō, turning around with a bright smile.
"Hello! My name's Tenshin Issho. You're Tenshin Ichirō, right? What a coincidence — same family name! Please take care of me!"
Ichirō blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Tenshin… Issho? You're a Tenshin too?"
"Mm?" Now it was her turn to look confused.
"Mm?" Ichirō mirrored her expression.
The two of them stared blankly at each other until Yoruichi groaned and facepalmed.
"Don't tell me you didn't read the class roster they handed out yesterday? That's how the welcome party was organized!"
"I didn't read it," Ichirō admitted flatly. "Why would I? Better to spend the time practicing Kidō chants. You've already surpassed me anyway."
Yoruichi's lips twitched. "That's because you insist on mastering abandoning incantations before moving on to the next spell!"
Sighing, she turned to Issho. "Didn't see you at the party yesterday. Couldn't make it?"
Issho nodded. "Something came up."
"Figures. This guy," Yoruichi gestured at Ichirō, "wouldn't have talked to you unless you walked right up to his face. He's hopeless."
"Eh? I see…"
"Hey!" Ichirō protested.
"Hehe~ Then let's make it official," Issho said, smiling sweetly. "Nice to meet you, Tenshin Ichirō."
"Ah… yeah, likewise." His tone was lukewarm at best.
Cute or not, she was clearly a background character — and Ichirō wasn't interested in side roles. Once he perfected Human Transmutation, women would naturally come.
"Quiet down, everyone. We're taking attendance," the instructor said, entering the room with a clipboard. The girl turned back to face the front.
"Yukimura Matsuoka."
"Here."
"Rinya Kirigaya."
"Here."
…
"Shihōin Yoruichi."
"Here."
…
"Urahara Kisuke."
"Present."
…
"Tenshin Ichirō."
"Here."
"Tenshin Issho."
"Here."
The teacher paused for a moment, glancing between the two Tenshins as if to confirm whether they were related. Finding nothing noteworthy, he moved on.
After finishing roll call, he clapped his hands together.
"Good. Everyone's here. Next, we'll begin your first Soul Burial field exercise. All students, assemble at the Senkaimon gate on the training grounds. Move out!"
---
The scene shifted to the front of the Academy's main building.
Standing before the massive Senkaimon gate were several active Shinigami from the Thirteenth Division, waiting to escort the class. The students would perform the ritual under supervision — any mistakes would be corrected immediately.
Ichirō's gaze deepened as he stared at the glowing threshold between worlds.
He slipped a gloved hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against the smooth material as he inhaled slowly… and exhaled.
At last, the day had come.
The day he would finally set foot in the Human World once more.