Entering the night, the quiet stillness of the room was only broken by the soft sounds of breathing. In the clean and tidy space, Ito Makoto lay on the tatami mat, resting his weary body after a long day. The room, which had been carefully prepared by Grandma Sanhua for him, was a sanctuary of peace and solitude. It was a single room, an exception among the residents. Eri Iwasaki, another soul residing in the house, lived there too, but she was in a separate part of the building. The others in the house, the long-standing residents, did not enjoy such special treatment.
Ito Makoto glanced down at his hand, where a small cluster of particles lay nestled between his fingers. They glowed faintly with a blue light, resembling tiny pieces of gravel. The sight reminded him of the earlier events of the day, particularly the actions of Dongxian. He couldn't shake the feeling that these particles were deeply connected to the experiments conducted by Aizen. His mind raced as he wondered what exactly was at play here.
"This won't be…" Ito muttered quietly to himself, unable to complete his sentence, though his thoughts were consumed by the implications of the situation.
Elsewhere, in the Fifth Team House, the atmosphere was heavy with the weight of secrecy. In the deputy captain's private room, the dim glow of an oil lamp illuminated the surroundings as Aizen Sosuke, the vice-captain, sat at the desk. His pen moved steadily across the paper, writing something with deep concentration. A sudden sound broke the stillness, a gust of air signaling the arrival of an unexpected guest.
"Whoosh!"
A figure appeared in the room, dark-skinned and with long, flowing dreadlocks—Tosen who had once held the position of the fifth seat of the Ninth Team. He stood there, his expression serious, his eyes never leaving Aizen.
"Mr. Aizen," Tosen spoke, his voice low, "the lost fragment seems to have entered the residential area of Liuhun Street. No one has seen it again, and the lost fragment of crystal is suspected to have been acquired by one of the residents of Liuhun Street."
At these words, Aizen's lips curled into a faint, almost indifferent smile. It was clear that he wasn't particularly concerned about the loss of the crystal fragments.
"It's nothing," he replied coolly, his voice calm and composed. "The fragment is an unstable defective product, after all. At most, it can be used once before it becomes useless. It poses no threat to us. We can always create more."
Tosen, though slightly relieved by Aizen's reaction, nodded silently and swiftly left the room, disappearing into the shadows, his presence as fleeting as it had been.
Seven days passed, and Ito Makoto found himself heading out early in the morning. Today was an important day—the monthly entrance assessment for the Shin'ō Spiritual Art Academy. As he walked through the early morning mist, his thoughts wandered to the events of the past few days, but he was soon distracted by the sight of a small figure waiting for him outside his residence.
There she stood, Eri Iwasaki. The girl, seemingly nervous but resolute, held a small package in her hands. As Ito approached, she looked at him, her face blushing deeply, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.
"Ito-kun," she began, her voice soft, almost shy, "This... this is a robe that I made for you with the fabric I worked on with Grandma Sanhua. I... I hope you like it."
Ito couldn't help but smile at the sight of her. The girl's earnestness was evident, her feelings for him transparent. He had seen that same kind of innocent affection in many lives before, but now, as a soul reborn, he had no interest in such attachments. His goals were higher, his purpose clear. He was determined to ascend, to reach a state of transcendence that would leave such fleeting emotions behind.
Nevertheless, he took the package from her, offering her a soft and genuine smile. "Thank you for the gift, Eri. I like it very much. Take care of yourself. See you soon."
Eri, caught in a whirlwind of emotions, could hardly speak. She had imagined countless scenarios in her head, rehearsing the words she would say, but now, with Ito turning to leave, all she could do was whisper, "Safe travels, Ito-kun."
Ito did not look back, but he raised his hand in a gentle wave, saying a final goodbye. Behind him, Eri stood silently, tears welling up in her eyes, watching him leave.
"Is this the Soul Society? It's even grander than I imagined!" Ito Makoto muttered, his voice tinged with awe.
Before him stood the magnificent and imposing structure of the Jingling Court. The massive, castle-like complex loomed over the surrounding landscape, its grandeur incomparable to the humble, low-rise buildings of Liuhun Street. The stark contrast between the two places was striking—two worlds existing side by side, yet completely different in their splendor and purpose.
The Jingling Court, located at the heart of the Soul Society, was the political and military center of this realm. It was a place where the nobility and the Death Gods resided, and it symbolized both power and control.
Ito made his way toward the Gate at the eastern entrance of Jingling Court, where a large crowd of young souls was already waiting in line. It was evident that they, too, were here for the entrance assessment at the Shinō Spiritual Art Academy. A sense of competition and anticipation hung in the air as Ito joined the line, patiently waiting his turn.
When it was finally his turn, Ito handed his identification card to a massive figure standing at the entrance—a towering man nearly ten feet tall, with two axes strapped to his waist. The man examined Ito's card briefly before allowing him to pass.
Ito followed the flow of the crowd, making his way through the gates toward the Shin'ō Spiritual Art Academy. The long queue moved steadily, and when it was Ito's turn at the registration desk, he handed over his ID card along with the card given to him by Grandma Sanhua, which had been carefully prepared for him. The Death God at the desk glanced at the cards, registering the information with a nod.
Ito observed the long line of hopefuls in front of him and couldn't help but mutter quietly to himself, wondering what challenges awaited him inside.
"When will this team line up?" Ito Makoto muttered under his breath, growing increasingly frustrated as he watched the team ahead of him, still not finished with their registration process. Just then, a middle-aged man, dressed in a dark, imposing outfit and sporting a pair of sunglasses, strode toward the group. His physique was burly, and his hair was tied back in a braided braid, adding to his no-nonsense demeanor.
"You, you, you, and you, come with me!" the middle-aged man barked, pointing directly at several people from the line, including Ito.. Without waiting for a response, he motioned for them to follow him, leading them straight into the Shin'ō Spiritual Art Academy.
Ito and the others walked swiftly behind him as he continued speaking, his tone impatient. "You guys can participate in the assessment early because you hold the token, but don't get too excited. If your talents are insufficient, you'll fail just like everyone else. No one is guaranteed a pass!" His words carried a hint of frustration.
As Ito listened, he realized that the middle-aged man must be the person Grandma Sanhua had mentioned—Yu Oda. "Seems like 'filial piety' here in Liuhun Street is a bit uneven,"Ito mused quietly. "Otherwise, Oda wouldn't be harboring so much resentment."
Yu Oda's complaints filled the air as they made their way through the halls, growing louder with each step. Ito could hear the bitterness in Oda's voice, a stark contrast to the other candidates who followed him in silence. After a short walk, they arrived at a large hall, already filled with many other participants. Some had letters of recommendation like Ito, while others appeared to have connections with powerful families in the Jingling Court, allowing them to bypass the usual queues and start their assessments early.
Ito looked around the hall, noting the crowd of anxious candidates and the various machines set up along the walls. In front of each device, a half-person-high scale was bound to a post, connected to energy storage crystals designed to measure spiritual pressure. These were tools crafted by the Technology Development Bureau to assess the candidates' abilities.
"This is a spiritual pressure measurement instrument," Yu Oda explained, his voice cold and disinterested. "All you need to do is hold the handle on the instrument, and it will measure your spiritual power. The measurement is divided into twenty levels, and you'll only be qualified to continue if you reach at least level nine. The first test isn't so easy."
Ito couldn't help but notice Oda's dismissive attitude as he glanced back at the group with a hint of contempt. After all, most of these people had gotten in through their family connections and recommendation letters, and very few would actually pass the first level of the exam.
Meanwhile, whispers filled the air as candidates nervously exchanged words. The tension in the room was palpable—most of them were concerned about passing the first level. It was common knowledge that a significant number of applicants failed this initial test. Even the influential figures, many of whom had connections to powerful families, felt the weight of the pressure. But for Ito, it was a different story. His focus was unwavering, unaffected by the chatter and nerves around him.
Suddenly, a voice boomed across the room, cutting through the whispers. "Silence! Anyone who dares to speak will be disqualified from the exam!" Two guards, stationed at the entrance, stood with an imposing presence, ensuring the room fell into complete silence.
The air grew still, and even the faintest sound seemed to vanish as the candidates fell into an uneasy quiet.
Moments later, the large wooden doors at the back of the hall creaked open, and a figure emerged, draped in a pristine white robe. The figure's presence commanded attention, and the atmosphere in the hall shifted. It was clear that the assessment was about to begin in earnest.