Born in Seireitei

On the streets of Seireitei, people seem happier than usual. The fresh scent of spring and the pleasant aroma of flowers linger in the air, dominated by the fragrance of sakura blossoms, which have been blooming for a week now.

And so, with spring's arrival in early April, the annual excitement surrounding the Spiritual Arts Academy has begun.

A huge plaza stretches before a tall wall and golden gates. A plaque bearing the proud name of the Academy is affixed to the walls. Since early morning, people have been gathering here—some alone, others in pairs or even in groups—forming a massive crowd.

I joined them, along with Daiki, taking the time to enjoy the scent of spring and the sight of sakura petals drifting down, carpeting the whiteness of Seireitei with beauty. There's no more wonderful time in Seireitei than spring: the fragrances, the sights, the festivals, it's all delightful. That is, unless you're a student forced to go to class.

As of today, for better or worse, I am a student. The entrance exams are over; now it's just a matter of finding out which class I've been placed into, along with other essential details—where to go, where to live, and so on.

The morning is hot, the sun blazing overhead, and the hum of the crowd—hundreds of people—is so loud it drowns out my own thoughts. After the usual quiet of the estate, this rush of activity is truly overwhelming.

By now, many people have gathered in front of the gates leading to the Academy grounds, all waiting for admission results. There are so many that it's impossible to count them at a glance—hundreds, perhaps. Among them, I stand with Daiki.

Daiki frowns at anyone who approaches me, holding a sheathed katana at his waist with one hand and a paper parasol with the other, shading my head from the scorching sun.

If I were the only one standing here with a parasol, I might have felt self-conscious. But scattered throughout the crowd are other parasols, like markers identifying aristocratic kids who consider it beneath them to just stand there, baking their pale skin in the sun.

Despite all the time spent training outdoors, my skin remains fair. Ever since I awakened my reiatsu, tanning just doesn't seem to happen for me.

The crowd keeps a respectful distance of at least a couple of meters from people with parasols, making standing here quite comfortable. Only those two hulking guys over there seem to command the same level of respect. I couldn't help but wonder what they eat to get arms that big—their biceps are the size of my head!

So, I stood there, not fussing, avoiding the elbow-to-elbow jostling. Thanks to the heightened senses from my awakened reiatsu, I could easily pick up conversations within a ten- to fifteen-meter radius.

Yes, eavesdropping isn't polite… but I was bored. After his punishment, Daiki preferred to play the silent bodyguard, refusing to engage in conversation. No matter what I said, he just nodded or grunted thoughtfully. He wasn't exactly my friend, but it still stung a little.

I glanced sideways at a pair of cheerful girls chatting animatedly, their heads inclined toward each other as they giggled. They were dressed expensively enough that no riffraff from Rukongai would bother them. My senses easily picked them out as awakened souls.

Surprisingly, there were few awakened souls in the crowd. What all these people were hoping for—taking the exams without any reiatsu and now expecting a miracle—was beyond me. Naturally, my attention drifted toward those with awakened souls and their conversations.

One of the girls, a rare blonde in these parts, had a long braid down to her waist and green eyes. Her sharp, light eyebrows lent an intensity and perceptiveness to her gaze that seemed unusual for someone so young.

Her toned figure is hidden beneath a green outfit that can only be described as an expensive sports kimono. I immediately recognized her as a budding Hakuda fighter. Perhaps even trained in my family's style, but a fighter, nonetheless—that much was clear at first glance. The characteristic shifting from heel to toe and the slightly reddened knuckles were a dead giveaway.

No matter how much you wrap your hands in bandages during training, it's still an unmistakable trait. When a Shinigami develops greater reiatsu reserves, such marks fade away on their own, but for a novice, things are almost the same as for ordinary people. All in all, this blonde had already caught my attention for the future.

The second girl seemed more ordinary. A typical Japanese girl of average attractiveness, with black eyes and black hair. But she was the more lively and energetic of the two, pestering her friend with teasing questions.

"Come on, Kasumi-i-i," the black-haired girl whined. "Tell me we'll be in the same class."

"…"

The blonde, Kasumi, averted her eyes and pressed her pink lips together. The silence was so endearingly awkward, yet so expressive, that I barely held back an embarrassing snicker in the crowd.

"No, please, don't give me that look!" the black-haired girl flailed her arms, lowering her head. "I'm hopeless, aren't I? Just say it straight, Kasumi. I'll never make it into anything above the average class!"

"There, there," Kasumi comforted her in a soft, pleasant whisper, patting her arm. "Hope… always exists?"

Kasumi's eyebrows knit slightly—oh, she averted her gaze again! What a charming lack of lying skills, haha. Damn it, don't look over there, Sujin. Just don't, or you'll burst out laughing.

Her exuberant friend practically shook the blonde, exclaiming:

"Is that a question or a statement?!"

"Pfft," I couldn't suppress a short laugh.

"Hm?" Daiki turned his head toward me.

"Nothing," I shook my head, hiding my hands in the wide sleeves of my white garments. "Just remembered a funny moment."

Today, in honor of the occasion, I was dressed more ceremoniously and festively. With such wide-sleeved clothing, it was practically divine will to hide your hands and stand there looking composed.

"Mhm," Daiki resumed his professional, carefully uninterested expression, scanning the crowd again.

Sigh. The demotion really affected him… But who would want to be a step away from a potential beheading and the shameful mark of someone who failed a direct duty?

"Alright, alright," the blonde soothed quietly. "Stop drawing attention. You're too loud, Darumi."

"How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Lin-lin," her friend pouted.

"You're not a child anymore," Kasumi retorted firmly. "Haven't the reprimands from your mother been enough? At least behave here."

Under the stream of reproach and the stern gaze of green eyes, poor "Lin-lin" shrank back.

"Okay," the black-haired girl muttered, head lowered.

They fell silent after that, and I found new targets for eavesdropping. Those two large men nearby caught my interest, if only because of their contrasting appearance and speech.

Both were tall and muscular, with unintelligent-looking faces and broad jaws. They wore simple gray kimono with the sleeves torn off, exposing their powerful, scarred arms. True bulls from the mid-districts of Rukongai, through and through. The crowd instinctively kept a distance from them out of sheer self-preservation.

And yet, these "bulls" spoke in a clean, pleasant manner, without any crudeness, conversing politely like old acquaintances. If the people who were avoiding them had listened closely, they would have been completely stunned.

I hadn't encountered anyone more polite or courteous than these two, not even at noble gatherings. Well, except maybe the Kuchiki side branch… You'd be hard-pressed to find bigger snobs. But these two came close.

"You're claiming the impossible, Gaidou-san," one of them, the bald one, shook his head.

His friend, equally muscular but with a buzz cut of black hair and the same thug-like face, responded with the confidence of an enlightened Confucian scholar… in a bodybuilder's frame.

"My dear Namaji-san, everything I say is the truth. I learned this by personally reading the Academy's regulations, which I requested at the admissions office on exam day. Astounded, I even asked a passing student…"

"And what did he say?" Namaji—or "the bald one"—picked up on the intrigue.

"At first, he was scared for some reason," shrugged Gaidou, his shoulders broad enough to haul oxen. "But once we cleared up the misunderstanding, he confirmed everything written. The truth I speak is indisputable."

"Oh, then I shall courteously heed your words, Gaidou-san," Namaji conceded. "I was mistaken. Please, enlighten your friend with your wisdom."

He clasped his hands prayerfully and bowed his head, the sun glinting off his scalp.

I shook my head in disbelief. These two were something else. But like a car crash on the highway, I couldn't stop watching or eavesdropping.

"Our assumptions were not entirely correct, Namaji-san," sighed the buzz-cut "bull." "We assumed that class divisions didn't affect the curriculum and that everyone was taught the same. That's not the case. And there aren't just three Shinigami classes in a single year. There's another one!"

"Oh, what an oversight, Gaidou-san," Namaji shook his head with the same gravity. "It would be lamentable to enter the Spiritual Arts Academy without understanding such basic things. I humbly request enlightenment, my friend."

"How could I refuse my dear friend knowledge, Namaji-san?" he flashed a knowing look.

In response, he received an equally brilliant and sincere gaze, filled with warmth and respect. All they were missing was a banner reading "Men's Friendship!", a firm handshake with drops of sweat, and a resounding "Hmm!"

In reality, it was just two burly men chatting, but my boredom and wild imagination… Oh, Soul King, how do I unsee this…

Daiki asked, concerned:

"Are you alright, sir?"

I quickly found an excuse.

"Just saw a woman in the crowd with a huge, festering pimple on her nose."

"Ugh," the stoic grimaced.

"Yeah. Best not to look to your right."

Of course, he looked! And to his relief, there was no one like that. Meanwhile, I continued listening to familiar information presented in an unusual way.

"There's a significant difference in the curriculum between classes, as well as the free time they get, Namaji-san," the buzz-cut "bull" lectured, raising his index finger. "As you know, there's the Lower Class, the Middle Class, and the First Class."

"Yes, I'm aware," the bald one nodded solemnly.

"But do you know the fundamental difference between them, Namaji-san?" Receiving a predictable head shake, he continued, "It turns out that the Lower Class is a dumping ground. They'll admit even the most hopeless novice, just because there's a chance they'll awaken their reiatsu during their time at the Academy."

"Appalling leniency," Namaji-san muttered, the corners of his mouth turning down.

"Yes, sadly, I now understand why all these people are here," his friend nodded in sync.

I nearly started nodding along with those two but caught myself in time and tuned in carefully. Wow, even I didn't know this… A little embarrassing, honestly. Well, at least my eavesdropping isn't for nothing.

Meanwhile, Gaidou-san continued:

"They're taught accordingly—not by the best teachers, and sometimes even by senior students. In the Middle Class, it's just as we imagined. Many subjects to study and a strict schedule that keeps students busy six days a week from morning until almost evening."

"Oh," the bald one nodded in admiration. "So many precious lessons to learn over the years."

"Yes, it's invaluable, especially for us from the humble districts of Rukongai," Gaidou-san admitted modestly. "I hope we get placed in the Middle Class."

"But what about the other classes?" the bald musclehead asked, curiosity ignited.

"Ah, now that's interesting information, Namaji-san," Gaidou smiled. "The First Class is called the Accelerated Class because they focus more on developing a Shinigami's combat skills. They don't have a third of the general subjects! This gives First Class students a lot of time for independent training."

"So it's called 'accelerated' not because they graduate earlier," the bald one mused, stroking his chin.

"Exactly," his friend nodded. "But because they mature and develop as Shinigami faster. I've also heard that First Class students can be assigned to real Gotei 13 missions. They're scouted by the Secret Ops Squad or the Kido Corps, who offer tasks and training. Sometimes as early as the fourth year—or even sooner!"

"Oh," Namaji-san's eyes widened. "That's incredible, Gaidou-san!"

"Indeed, my friend! I was just as astonished!"

People in the crowd glanced over, but dismissed it as their imagination and turned back to their own thoughts and conversations.

"But you'll be even more surprised when you hear about the final class," Gaidou said, a rather intimidating grin stretching across his thug-like face. "It ranks above the First Class and is called the Zero Class. But everyone calls it the Elite Class or the Privileged Class because its students have twice the privileges of anyone else."

Listening to Gaidou-san, I nodded inwardly, thinking, Yes, 'my friend,' that's exactly where I want to be. Just like all these other folks with umbrellas.

"And what privileges did they tell you about, Gaidou-san?" the bald one asked, more cautiously now.

"Oh, it's no secret," Gaidou-san folded his massive arms across his broad chest and explained. "The entrance exam for the Zero Class is separate from the others, and regular folks don't know about it. Well, technically, anyone could find out—it's in the Academy Regulations, for example—but they don't widely advertise it."

"A little test in itself."

"Exactly. But the entrance exam for the Zero Class is equivalent to the final exam of the first year for the regular First Class. In other words, you have to know the basics of all Academy subjects before you even enter the Academy!"

"That sounds terrifying, Gaidou-san," Namaji said, sounding overwhelmed. "Is that even possible?"

"As you can see, it is, my friend. People find teachers, books, study, and pass… But it's worth the effort!"

"Oh, definitely," the bald one agreed quickly. "So what are the privileges?"

"For the Zero Class, only Shinigami combat skills are mandatory," Gaidou-san declared firmly. "Just four subjects. All other classes are optional. And though the teachers are the same as those for the First Class, they teach the Elites more advanced material. Plus, students can get personal consultations on their progress. There are many smaller perks, but the two biggest ones are…"

Gaidou-san leaned closer and said quietly:

"Since they only have exams in four subjects, they can graduate early. The minimum is one year. And that's not all… Each Elite student gets a private room in the dorms. In the Lower and Middle Classes, it's basically barracks. Even the First Class students share rooms with at least one other person!"

"Living alone for six years or sharing a room…" the bald one said dreamily. "The Nine Hells, I want to be in the Zero Class too!"

"Everyone does," his friend replied with a knowing smirk.

"Ugh, if only I'd known earlier…"

I chuckled to myself and left the two eloquent friends to their conversation, shifting my attention to other gossip and chatter.

We didn't have to wait long under the blazing sun. Soon enough, the Academy's massive doors opened wide, inviting the new students inside.

---

The very first thing that surprises and impresses new students is the enormous main building. Additionally, the large overhanging roofs, themselves nearly a full story in size, add to its grandeur. The shadow cast by the main building alone was enough to blanket the entire courtyard in cool shade.

Everything, of course, followed the iconic style of Seireitei—snow-white walls and yellow, almost golden, roofs and decorations.

In the wide courtyard in front of the grand building, tables were set up with Academy-uniformed students offering directions. Behind them stood a massive board, a story and a half tall, displaying the list of admitted students and their assigned classes.

There's also a little trick most students only learn after admission. The numbering of each student within their class isn't random—it's the initial ranking. This will later be useful not just for future employers in the Divisions but also for the students themselves as they progress.

Quickly finding my name, I smirked with satisfaction and headed toward the farthest table. Twenty-seven people made it into the Zero Class this year. Quite a number. And my rank was higher than I expected.

I approached a table that had no line. Since I'd found my name quickly, I didn't need to wait. I like that.

"Okikiba Sujin," I introduced myself.

"Oh," the spiky-haired guy with sly eyes perked up. "First 'Zero-classer' this year, huh?"

"Seems so," I replied indifferently. "Where do I go?"

"Ah, just a second," the student said, scanning the list on his table. "Here, take this."

He handed me a lacquered wooden tag, a few centimeters long. My fingers tingled slightly upon contact.

"Block 'A.' Room Seven. This is your room key for the entire duration of your training. Don't lose it. You'll need to go over there."

He stood slightly and pointed to the right, toward a straight path lined with lush green trees, leading who knows where. Hmm, the room number matches my ranking. A reminder for the next six years of where I started? Or just a coincidence?

"When you see the buildings with blue-tiled roofs, that's your destination. Those are Block 'A' dorms, where the First Class and Zero Class students stay. In your room, you'll find a uniform in your size and a brochure with the Academy rules. The class schedule for the year and a map will also be there. Today is a free day—explore wherever you like. Oh, starting tomorrow, you must wear your uniform on Academy grounds; they're strict about that."

"Got it," I nodded. "Is that all?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Good luck with your studies, newbie."

With that, he turned to greet the person behind me, and a small line began to form. Everyone in it was already eyeing their future classmates with interest.

More than half of them bore family or clan crests that I recognized vaguely. I nodded in greeting to all of them at once. Without saying anything, I walked where I'd been directed, glancing around and trying not to show how curious I was.

Well, hello there, Academy! Let's see what I can accomplish here!

But first—the room and the cafeteria… Finding out where to eat is priority number one. After that, the libraries and training grounds can wait.