By the time morning classes ended, the swordsmanship lesson was finally over.Yet throughout the entire period, no one had dared to challenge Arata to a sparring match.
Not that he sat idle the whole time—he had gone out of his way to test blades with Aizen Sōsuke.
On the surface, Arata had won cleanly.But whether it was truly a victory was another matter entirely.Aizen might still have been a student, but who knew what hidden depths lay beneath that calm smile?
The Mask of Aizen
"Arata-kun, you really don't hold back, do you?"Aizen's tone carried a trace of complaint, though his gentle smile never wavered as the two walked toward the dining hall."I thought I could at least last a few more strikes."
Arata chuckled."I get the feeling your real strength is far greater than what you showed me today.Maybe next time, I'll get to see you fight in earnest."
He didn't bother piercing Aizen's carefully worn mask.He simply let his words carry the heat of his own hunger—the yearning to cross blades with someone truly powerful.
"Well then," Aizen replied lightly, "I'll have to learn as much as I can from you before that happens."He turned a corner, leading the way through the corridor."You haven't been to the cafeteria yet, have you? Come on. The food at the Shin'ō Spiritual Arts Academy is surprisingly good."
The word food snapped Arata's attention instantly.He hadn't eaten proper food in… how long?Far too long.
When Captain Unohana had brought him to the academy last night, it had already been late.She had only given a few brief instructions before leaving him to the dormitory staff.And this morning, Aizen had advised him to skip breakfast—no doubt having guessed that Instructor Fujimoto would test Arata's swordsmanship.
What Aizen hadn't predicted was the outcome.
The Cafeteria of Souls
"...It's huge."
Arata's eyes widened as soon as they stepped into the cafeteria.Row upon row of food counters stretched before him, the air thick with the warmth of freshly cooked dishes.The scent alone was enough to make him swallow.
"Sōsuke… this place doesn't charge money, does it?"
He still wasn't used to having anything.Yesterday he had been a vagabond in the outer districts of Rukongai—utterly penniless.
Aizen didn't slow his pace."Don't worry. The academy provides several free food counters for students who came from the outer Rukongai.Personally, I recommend the tofu stall—it's quite good."
"Free? And unlimited?"
That last word made Arata's eyes light up.He'd been starving for days.During his confinement back in the human world, he hadn't eaten real food at all—only chemical nutrient injections.Now, his stomach growled audibly in protest.
Aizen heard it too.His expression didn't change, though a strange glint flickered behind his glasses.Moments ago, he'd doubted Arata's story of being a Rukongai drifter.But seeing the way the man's eyes shone at the mention of free food—he really did look like some half-starved stray dog seeing his first meal.
"Free and unlimited, yes," Aizen confirmed."But you'd better not waste any, or the cafeteria staff might get angry."
They reached the counter.The lunch lady seemed to know Aizen; she smiled warmly at him.
"The usual?" she asked.
"Yes, one serving of mapo tofu, please."
"You really do love tofu, huh?" she teased, already scooping his meal—neither too much nor too little, exactly what she knew he'd eat.
When it was Arata's turn, his gaze swept across the array of steaming dishes.Then, after a hesitant pause, he asked, "Ma'am… could I have one of everything?"
The woman blinked. "Everything? You mean… a little bit of each?"
Arata shook his head.In Aizen's mildly puzzled stare, he said, "No—one full serving of each, please. The same portion size as Sōsuke's tofu.Oh, and… a big bowl of rice. Maybe a basin, actually. Is that allowed?"
The woman stared, speechless.Her eyes drifted over Arata's frame—lean but solid, clearly fit.Could this boy really eat that much?
Before she could object, Aizen stepped in smoothly."Ma'am, Arata-kun just joined the academy yesterday. He hasn't eaten properly in a long time, and his appetite is… considerable.If he can't finish, I'll help him."
Arata blinked in mild surprise.He hadn't expected Aizen to step in for him.Was it genuine courtesy—or part of that careful, helpful façade Aizen maintained for everyone?Either way, he appreciated it.
"Well, if Sōsuke says so…"The woman sighed and began ladling food.One tray, then another, until there were several iron platters piled high with dishes—and finally, a large steel bowl filled with rice.She slid it toward Arata with a skeptical frown."Don't waste it, alright?"
"Thank you, ma'am. I'll finish every grain," Arata promised.
He pinched four trays together between his fingers, stacking them with casual strength.He was just about to balance the rice bowl on his head when Aizen, with a faint smile, lifted it for him instead.
"Come on. There's an open table over there," he said."But you'd better actually finish this—there's only so much help I can offer."
"Don't worry," Arata said brightly.
They found seats at the far end of the hall.As soon as they sat, Arata snatched the rice bowl from Aizen's hands and began to eat.No, not eat—devour.It was a whirlwind of movement, a blur of chopsticks and clattering plates.
Nearby students froze mid-bite, staring.Even Aizen paused, his spoon hovering in midair, watching the spectacle with mild astonishment.
Halfway through his feast, Arata looked up, noticing Aizen hadn't touched his food."Sōsuke, aren't you eating?"
"Oh… I was just thinking," Aizen murmured, and calmly took a bite of tofu.
Aizen Sōsuke rarely felt surprise.But today, he had been surprised more than once—first by Arata's astonishing combat instincts, and now by his equally astonishing appetite.
He watched the man finish tray after tray.If this continued, Aizen thought wryly, Arata-kun might just be the academy's greatest return on free meals.
Soon, every last grain of rice and scrap of food was gone.Arata leaned back, patting his stomach in satisfaction.He hadn't felt this full—or this alive—in years.
During his imprisonment, they had only injected him with synthetic nutrients.Even back in the human world, real food had become rare.This—this simple meal—might have been the most luxurious feast of his life.
Warmth spread through his body, spiritual energy resonating within every limb.That was the mystery of food in the Soul Society—everything here was composed of reishi, spirit particles.Eating was more than sustenance; it was replenishment.Sustained over time, even one's reiatsu could subtly grow stronger.
Of course, true power came through training, not meals.But Arata hadn't yet reached those courses in the curriculum.
Shadows of Curiosity
On the walk back to the dormitory, Aizen trailed slightly behind Arata, his eyes gleaming faintly—like a child who had just found a fascinating new toy.
He could feel it in his bones: this man wasn't ordinary.In some way, Arata was like him.At least, a genius of combat.
If his swordsmanship was already that refined, then what about hand-to-hand combat?Shunpo?Kidō?
The corner of Aizen's mouth lifted ever so slightly, before he schooled his expression again.
Arata-kun… I have a feeling the next few years will be very entertaining indeed.
Afternoon Class: Hand-to-Hand Combat
"In complex combat scenarios," the instructor droned from the podium, "there are times when we must rely on techniques other than the Zanpakutō for offense or defense…"
It was a lecture on Hakuda, the art of unarmed combat.Perhaps someone had given a discreet reminder, because the first half of class was filled with basic theory—so basic that Arata nearly nodded off.
Aizen, on the other hand, was the picture of diligence.Taking notes, listening attentively—every inch the model student.
"…Now," the instructor announced, scanning the room, "we'll begin practical training."
His gaze moved over the students—then paused on Arata—before shifting toward a girl by the window."Shihōin-san. Your Hakuda scores are the best in class. Please help the new student with some basic drills."
Arata turned his head toward the window.The girl had dark bronze skin and short violet hair, a lively, athletic beauty.But at that moment, she was slumped back in her seat, head tilted, eyes half-closed, a faint trail of drool at the corner of her mouth.She was completely asleep—and smiling, as if caught in a pleasant dream.
"Shihōin-san!"
The instructor's voice rose in exasperation.He didn't push further, though; clearly, this wasn't the first time she'd done it.The rest of the class didn't even react.It seemed the girl's habit of sleeping through lessons was tolerated—perhaps even excused.
"Ah—here!"
Startled awake, the girl jerked upright like a cat, eyes wide and alert, before landing lightly on her feet with fluid grace.
Arata's eyes narrowed slightly in intrigue.That name—Shihōin—and that skin tone, that hair…
Could it be?The young woman before him was none other than Shihōin Yoruichi?
He had read the original records, but the Bleach timeline was vague; the exact ages of the captains had always been unclear.But by rough estimate, Aizen and Yoruichi would have been close in age—perhaps even classmates.
No wonder, Arata thought, recalling how casually Yoruichi teased Aizen in the future.They were old acquaintances.
He hadn't seen her in the morning's sword class—perhaps she'd skipped it entirely.
The instructor sighed, rubbing his temples."Since you're finally awake—there's a transfer student today. Pair with him and teach him some basic Hakuda techniques."
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