005 – Assurance and Expectation

The two figures, arms slung over each other's shoulders in a casual and unimpressive manner, exited the classroom. Yet, despite the seemingly friendly gesture, it was clear that Aizen, as the one being leaned on by Hirako Shinji, carried an air of reluctant compliance.

Snippets of their conversation drifted to Arima Seiya's ears:

"How long do you plan to hang around here?"

"The division's workload is piling up."

"We're really struggling without you right now, you know."

It was evident that Aizen had grown quite familiar with Hirako Shinji, the 5th Division Captain, and had taken on considerable responsibilities within the division himself.

So capable already, huh? What a diligent guy, thought Arima.

Arima watched Aizen cheerfully see off his captain.

While tonight hadn't yielded much in the way of attribute gains, simply meeting a captain of the Gotei 13 had made it all worthwhile.

In high spirits, Arima returned to his dorm, tidied up, and prepared to head to the training range for practice.

But before he could take a few steps, a familiar figure appeared at his door—Tōsen Kaname.

The man still bore visible swelling and bruises, and though his injuries were bandaged, he looked as ragged as ever.

"Huh? Why are you here?"

Hearing footsteps behind him, Tōsen turned slightly. His neatly combed hair gleamed faintly under the light, and his tone remained composed.

"I asked around and learned who you are. I also heard you enjoy sword practice. I don't like owing favors, so I waited here specifically for you."

He raised a hand to rest it lightly on the hilt of his sword.

"The way of the sword is long and profound. There is much for you to learn... I can teach you a thing or two."

Oh ho, is that so?

Arima's expression turned playful. With 26 points in swordsmanship, while not yet on par with an official Shinigami, he felt confident about defeating a senior student.

"Not to brag, but if it's about swordsmanship, I think you might not be my match."

Tōsen responded with a cold scoff and a decisive turn of his back.

"Words are meaningless. Let's see for ourselves in the practice field."

Such a fiery temper.

Arima chuckled lightly and quickened his pace to walk alongside Tōsen.

"By the way, I've been curious about something, so forgive me if this sounds rude... Is your skin color natural?"

"..."

"And about your hair—since you're Black, have you considered rocking a cooler style? Like an afro, dreadlocks, or maybe cornrows?"

"..."

"Come on, say something. It's boring if I'm the only one talking—it feels like a one-man show."

"Shut up."

Beyond that curt response, Tōsen said nothing more.

Two Hours Later

Both men emerged from the practice field battered and bruised, groaning in pain.

Neither had expected the other to possess such formidable skills.

Tōsen, who wielded his late friend's Asauchi, had naturally maintained rigorous sword training.

Meanwhile, Arima's 26 points in swordsmanship were no joke, making for a hard-fought duel.

Starting with cautious exchanges, their sparring escalated until both became fully invested in the battle.

Arima's left cheek swelled to twice its normal size, forcing one eye into a narrow slit—a testament to Tōsen's relentless attacks.

But Arima hadn't been on the receiving end alone.

Seeing Tōsen clutching his left arm with a grimace, visibly trying to suppress a pained cry, Arima felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

I'm not that bad, after all!

What truly mattered, however, was the reward from their sparring session:

[You wielded a wooden sword and engaged in close interaction with Tōsen Kaname. Swordsmanship +3.]

Based on the attribute gain, Arima could estimate Tōsen's level—slightly above his own, but within reach of surpassing with effort.

"You're much sharper with your sword than you are with your words," Tōsen remarked dryly.

Arima chuckled. "You're not bad yourself."

"Shall we go again tomorrow?"

"It's a deal!"

To be honest, Arima's competitive spirit had been ignited.

I might not beat Aizen, but I can certainly take you down. Just a little effort, and you're done for, my friend!

After struggling back to his dorm, Arima quickly realized he had overestimated his recovery abilities.

The next morning, the soreness in his body was even worse. It felt like the aftermath of overdoing it at the gym—his muscles screaming from exhaustion and overexertion.

Help! Somebody save me!

But realizing he wasn't close enough to anyone to ask for aid, he hesitated for a moment. By the time he decided, the dorm was already empty.

If I can't rely on others, I'll have to rely on myself. Pull yourself together, Arima Seiya!

Summoning every ounce of strength, he forced himself out of bed, washed up, bandaged his injuries, and limped his way to class.

Unsurprisingly, Arima became the center of attention, his swollen face making him stand out.

Among those who noticed was Aizen, who approached during the break with a gentle smile.

Standing in the hallway, Aizen raised a hand and hovered it over Arima's injured face.

A soft green light flickered as the healing power of Kaido repaired his wounds.

The swelling dissipated, and his blurred vision cleared instantly.

"Two hallway chats in three days, Seiya-kun. I didn't expect you to be such a troublemaker."

Sitting beside him, Aizen crossed his arms and smiled warmly.

"So, what happened this time?"

Rubbing his now-healed face, Arima recounted his sparring match with Tōsen in full.

Aizen's expression visibly brightened.

"I see. So you've made a friend. That's wonderful news. The days of a student are often simple, free from ulterior motives."

"To find a like-minded friend at this stage is a truly joyful thing. As your instructor, Seiya-kun, I'm genuinely pleased and proud of you."

However...

Aizen adjusted his glasses with a calm yet intimidating demeanor.

"But such reckless and heavy-handed actions... Next time, please think carefully before acting."

The glare from Aizen's glasses was blinding.

Gulp. Such an oppressive aura!

Arima could only laugh awkwardly and nod in agreement.

"By the way, Seiya-kun, since you're so passionate about swordsmanship, perhaps you should consider applying to borrow an Asauchi?"

"Wait, is that even allowed?"

"Of course. Certain options aren't explained to freshmen because they're not immediately necessary. But since the goal of your education here is to become a competent Shinigami, getting accustomed to wielding a blade is undoubtedly beneficial."

Arima rubbed his chin, finding the suggestion quite reasonable.

An Asauchi, the precursor to a Zanpakuto... So far, he'd only trained with wooden swords. He couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to wield a real blade.

I'm in.

"So, Aizen-sensei, what do I need to do?"

"Submit an application. I'll provide a template later. Additionally, you'll need a sponsor to support your request. After all, exceptions like this require backing, and a student's name alone won't suffice."

The logic made sense.

Without connections, Tōsen likely wouldn't have been able to keep his blade.

"So, your sponsor will have to be me, Seiya-kun."

Hearing this, Arima felt a mix of embarrassment and gratitude.

Violating academy rules could lead to serious consequences. The lightest penalty was expulsion; the worst involved imprisonment—a daunting prospect considering the extended lifespan of spiritual beings.

For Aizen to take this risk on his behalf was no small gesture.

This guy's so good at this!

"Though it wasn't intentional, I always seem to trouble you, Aizen-sensei... I'm so sorry!"

Aizen waved it off with a kind smile.

"It's nothing, really. And I trust in your character, Seiya-kun. I'm confident you won't disappoint me."

With no room to refuse, Arima straightened up and nodded solemnly.

"I won't let you down!"

As they walked back, Aizen casually reminded him, "Focusing on one skill is admirable, but as your instructor, I must advise balance. The upcoming monthly exam will focus on Hakuda."

Arima's expression froze.

He'd completely forgotten.

Performance in these exams was critical for securing a good post after graduation.

Glancing at his stats, [Hakuda: 2], Arima scratched his cheek awkwardly.

With this level, I'd barely surpass a street brawler.

Realizing the weight of his workload, Arima sighed.

I really need to work on those other skills…

Seeing Arima's troubled face, Aizen chuckled softly, as if watching his student struggle brought him amusement.

"Prepare well, Seiya-kun. I look forward to seeing what you achieve."