Silence lingered for quite a while before the hand that had been resting on the sword hilt finally loosened its grip.
"…Thank you. And, although I can't see, I ask that you don't act so deliberately. Just treat me like a normal person."
"Ha, you've got quite the pride, huh."
"It's just a reminder — there's no need for unnecessary attention toward someone with a disability."
Seeing him drink the water in one gulp, Arima Shinya tilted his head and smiled.
"So, may I know your name?"
"Tōsen Kaname, second year, class six."
A short and firm introduction, yet it still made Arima Shinya sigh inwardly.
What kind of world is this, huh…
Yesterday he ran into the king of hair gel, and today it's the number one loyal dog!
Looks like I'm destined to cross paths with everyone from Aizen's group…
Truth be told, Shinya didn't remember much about Tōsen Kaname — he didn't even know the guy had once been a student at the Spiritual Arts Academy.
And to think he was only one year older…
No, wait.
Actually, almost everyone in the Gotei 13 had graduated from the Academy. The only exception was the 11th Division, which had always been full of special cases.
Tōsen stepped down from the bed with slow movements. He ran his hand over the item hanging at his waist — although still unsteady, he was already far better than the day before.
He stood before Shinya, his tone serious and heavy.
"Arima Shinya, thank you for your help. But it's best if you don't get too close to me…"
After all, he had provoked nobles. And if any of them decided to take revenge, that would be a problem.
"I know, no need to remind me. If trouble comes, I'll be the first one to run."
Shinya understood perfectly the reason behind Tōsen's behavior — he would later join the Thirteen Court Guard Squads driven by revenge.
His best friend had been killed, and the perpetrator never received the punishment he deserved.
That was why Tōsen carried an asauchi — the standard spiritual sword of the shinigami — a relic left behind by his friend.
During their time as students, they weren't allowed to carry real swords outside of class; only after graduation could a student possess their own asauchi.
But this was Tōsen Kaname.
A man with an unshakable sense of justice, who lived by his ideals — and who would one day become the Captain of the 9th Division.
Shinya had always thought he was the type to endure everything in silence… but it seemed that, in the past, he had been much more impulsive.
Time, after all, is a cruel blade — even the hot-headed blind man had eventually become someone composed.
Hearing Shinya's reply, Tōsen remained silent for a moment.
When he reached the dormitory door, he spoke without looking back:
"Arima-kun… thank you."
Shinya smiled broadly, flashing his large, bright teeth — though the other, of course, couldn't see them.
"Ha, don't mention it!"
⸻
Because he had stayed behind to look after Tōsen, Shinya ended up arriving late to class that day.
And at the worst possible time — Kidō class, taught by the strictest instructor of all.
The result was obvious: punishment and suspension of class privileges.
And to make things worse, the teacher even went to complain about him.
When Shinya tried to take a short rest after class, he found Aizen waiting at the door.
"Shinya-kun, may we talk for a moment?"
There was no way to refuse.
Following behind Aizen Sōsuke, the two walked through the academy's corridors, chatting casually.
"So… what exactly happened?"
The teacher didn't take him to a closed room; instead, he chose to talk in an open area — which, in itself, reflected his calm demeanor.
Aizen wasn't there to reprimand him, only to talk.
Without hiding anything, Shinya explained everything about the incident with Tōsen.
Aizen's expression remained serene, but his voice carried a faint note of melancholy.
"I see… so you were late because you stopped to help someone. Hm, that does sound like you, Shinya-kun."
"Eh? You believe that so easily, Sensei?"
That morning, the Kidō teacher had said "it was just an excuse."
But Aizen only gave a soft chuckle.
"I know the kind of person you are, Shinya-kun. You're not someone who makes excuses to escape responsibility. I imagine that, if it hadn't been truly necessary, you wouldn't have been late."
That sense of understanding — almost like that of an old friend — actually moved Shinya a little.
"As a teacher, I hope you'll become someone just and kind. But the world is unpredictable, Shinya-kun. Just like your classmate Tōsen, people suffer because of things beyond their control."
"And what should one do in that kind of situation?"
"Ha ha, why not try thinking for yourself? I'll give you three minutes, then I'll hear your answer."
They reached the first floor. Aizen asked him to wait a moment and stepped away.
When he returned, he was holding two warm onigiri in his hands.
"You came back from the dōjō, took care of Tōsen, and still rushed to class… I imagine you didn't have time to eat, did you?"
Gwah… what a ridiculously charming guy!
Shinya's stomach growled loudly.
"Looks like there's no denying it now, is there?"
Just as Aizen had said, Shinya could only thank him softly and accept the rice balls.
There were two — one filled with salmon, the other with pickled plum.
"So then, Shinya-kun, have you thought of an answer?"
"Hmm… I guess there are only two options: accept your fate… or destroy everything."
The first was resignation. The second, rebellion. Both carried their own weight — but, in Aizen's eyes, things weren't that simple.
"Oh?"
He pushed his glasses up with a light touch and sat down beside the student.
"A rare outlook, Shinya-kun. You possess a wisdom that surpasses the ordinary."
No, no…
I just quoted a line I once heard from a certain "drama king."
"It was just a spur-of-the-moment thought. What about you, Sensei? What do you think?"
"Ah, throwing the question back at me, huh? Hahaha… Though that might sound a little disrespectful, I must admit — I don't mind it that much."
Aizen went silent for a moment.
He rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped beneath his chin. His eyes, behind the glasses, remained calm and unwavering.
"If it were me… perhaps I, too, would lament the unfairness of fate."
"And wouldn't you think about rebelling against it?"
Aizen let out a quiet chuckle.
"You say bold things so easily, Shinya-kun. You truly are someone different."
Shinya could sense that Aizen still held respect for the rules — but even so, he risked one more question:
"Sensei… have you ever thought of rising above the heavens?"
Aizen seemed surprised.
He raised his eyebrows slightly and remained silent for a few seconds.
Then, almost reflexively, he looked directly at Shinya.
For a moment, the air itself seemed to distort.
And after that brief pause — as though digesting the weight of the words — the corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile.
The kind of smile one gives when hearing a child's wild dream.
"To rise above the heavens…? What an interesting and arrogant expression."