Zanjutsu. Kidō. Hohō. Hakuda…
Standing in line and slowly shuffling forward with the crowd, Fūjin Taichi silently reviewed the four disciplines in his head.
The problem was…
Aside from the information he had once skimmed through in the Great Archive, he knew absolutely nothing about any of them.
Zanjutsu?
He'd never even held a Zanpakutō before.
Kitchen knives, though? Those he'd used plenty.
Slice, chop, dice.
Cucumbers, eggplants, green beans, pork ribs… no problem.
But using a blade to fight Hollows?
Yeah… that sounded a little terrifying.
Kidō?
That one was even worse.
Kidō was divided into Hadō for offense, Bakudō for restraint, and Kaido for healing.
Each category had ninety-nine spells.
Even the Soul King probably didn't know every single one of them.
And Taichi? He was a complete beginner.
Hohō?
A high-speed movement technique exclusive to Shinigami.
There was even a more advanced technique called Utsusemi, which required abandoning your outer clothing like a cicada shedding its shell.
Taichi snorted internally.
For a guy who took a full minute to run a hundred-meter dash, it wasn't even worth mentioning.
Andas for Hakuda... does playing kickball count?
...
"Attention, first-year students!"
A loud announcement echoed through the academy grounds.
"The placement test will begin in thirty minutes. Please proceed in an orderly manner according to your identification number plates."
"The testing areas are divided into Exam Halls 1 through 6."
"Remain quiet and wait patiently."
By the time the announcement played for the third time, Fūjin Taichi had already received his number plate.
A large "6" was printed on it.
He glanced back at the others behind him and gave a small nod.
"Good luck on the exam."
Then he followed the signs toward Exam Hall Six.
There were a lot of freshmen this year.
Just from a rough estimate, Taichi figured there had to be two or three thousand people.
Tall and short. Fat and skinny. Young and old. Male and female.
All kinds of people from all over Rukongai had gathered here.
Each of them carried their own dreams.
But they all shared the same destination.
The path to becoming a Shinigami.
...
After Taichi disappeared into the sea of students, the others received their own number plates.
Hoko — Hall 5
Rukia — Hall 2
Renji — Hall 4
Kibune Makoto — Hall 3
"Well then… good luck, everyone," Hoko said softly.
She clutched her number plate and headed toward Exam Hall Five.
The others soon went their separate ways.
"Good grief, so many Rukongai people showed up this year! How disgusting."
A fat boy glanced around with obvious disgust as he spoke to the two students beside him.
"You ever notice something?" he sneered. "People from Rukongai all smell the same."
"Like moldy wood mixed with rotten fish."
"Exactly," agreed the skinny student on his left, who looked disturbingly like a long-limbed monkey.
"They live in the same filthy slums, eat the same garbage, and wear the same rags."
"Of course they all stink like livestock."
"Hey now, Aso Jirō," the fat boy chuckled, though the grin never left his face. "Isn't that a bit harsh?"
On the right side, a dark-skinned student with a broad, gorilla-like build bared a mouthful of white teeth.
"I think Aso's right," he laughed.
"There are so many Rukongai rats here that the whole academy smells contaminated."
"Breathing clean air feels like a luxury now."
"Hahaha!"
The fat boy finally burst out laughing.
He slapped the dark-skinned student's shoulder as he laughed.
"Come on, Kusamoto, that's going a little too far!"
"Tsunayashiro Tokio! Aso Jirō! Kusamoto Yoshihiro! You three—mind your discipline!!" A supervising academy instructor suddenly shouted at them.
"Yes, yes, we understand," said the tall, broad-shouldered fat boy—Tsunayashiro Tokio—with a dismissive wave.
Still laughing with his friends, the trio strolled casually toward their exam halls.
Truthfully, nobles like them didn't really need to worry about academy performance.
Attending the academy was merely a formality.
No matter how poorly they performed, their noble status ensured they would still enter the Gotei 13 eventually.
But after the three of them left—
A student standing nearby clenched his fists tightly inside the wide sleeves of his worn robe.
He had long golden hair, and his clothes were shabby and oversized.
His dark crimson eyes burned as he stared at the nobles' retreating backs.
Arrogant nobles…
His teeth ground together.
So what if you're nobles?
Just wait.
I, Fujiwara Tatsuma, will make you arrogant bastards regret looking down on us!
...
Meanwhile…
The six examination arenas for the academy entrance test were located near Little Mirror Lake, in the southeastern corner of the campus.
They had once been training grounds numbered 34 through 40.
Now, for the entrance season, they had been converted into testing fields.
About a hundred meters further along Little Mirror Lake stood the academy's grand library.
Behind the exam grounds, however, rows upon rows of cherry blossom trees stretched across the path. It was late March, and the branches were heavy with blooms. Large clusters of soft pink petals fluttered through the spring breeze, drifting up and down like clouds of fragrant snow.
It was a beautiful sight.
Meanwhile, Exam Hall Six, where Fūjin Taichi had been assigned, sat in the most secluded corner of the lake.
Hundreds of examinees from all over Soul Society had gathered there.
Small groups formed naturally—three here, five there—everyone whispering quietly as they speculated about the upcoming test.
"Hey, Hinamori, did you hear?" A blond boy whose bangs covered his left eye leaned closer to his companion and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. "They say the test this time requires every student to kill a Gillian-class Hollow."
"W-What?! Seriously?!"
The girl beside him—Momo Hinamori, who wore her hair in twin black ponytails—jumped in fright.
Her eyes instantly reddened as she grabbed the boy's sleeve nervously.
"Kira, don't scare me like that!"
Her voice trembled as if she might start crying at any moment.
"Haha, I'm just kidding."
Kira Izuru glanced toward Fūjin Taichi, who had momentarily looked their way, and raised his eyebrows smugly before grinning at Hinamori again.
"In reality, the placement test just measures everyone's spiritual power level."
"The real elimination exam won't happen until three months after enrollment."
"Spiritual power testing?"
Hinamori tilted her head in confusion.
"How do they measure spiritual power? And how are the levels classified?"
"Kira?
Kira chuckled. "I heard the device they use is made from a rare mineral similar to Sekkiseki Stone."
"Sekkiseki?" someone nearby exclaimed.
"That's the stuff used to block spiritual pressure, right?"
"It's similar," Kira continued, enjoying the attention.
"But the effect is much weaker."
"Wait, they're using something like Sekkiseki to measure our spiritual power?!"
A nearby freshman who had been eavesdropping cried out in shock.
"Are you serious?!"
"Idiot."
Another student rolled his eyes in disdain.
"The material is similar, not the same thing."
"Ohhhh… I see!"
The first student nodded rapidly in realization before asking again. "Then how do the examiners judge how strong our spiritual power is, Sakata?"
The boy he asked scratched his head awkwardly.
Clearly, he didn't know either. He had only repeated what he'd heard from someone else.
"Ahem."
Kira suddenly cleared his throat.
Once he noticed that several nearby students had turned their attention toward him, he continued confidently.
"It's actually very simple."
"You place your hand on the testing device and channel your spiritual power into it."
"Then the device changes color."
"The color determines your spiritual power rank."
At this point, he lowered his voice dramatically, almost whispering.
"I heard the ranking colors go from strongest to weakest like this—"
Red.
Orange.
Yellow.
Green.
Blue.
Indigo.
Purple.
"Red means Level Seven, the highest level of spiritual power."
"Apparently only the Captain-Commander himself reached that level back in the day."
"As for purple…"
Kira smiled faintly.
"That means you're the weakest."
"And you'll probably be eliminated."
The crowd of freshmen instantly erupted into anxious murmurs.
Everyone suddenly felt nervous.
What if their spiritual power didn't reach the minimum Level Two requirement?
Failing the test wouldn't just be embarrassing.
It would mean their dream of becoming a Shinigami would end before it even began.
After all, in the rigid hierarchy of Soul Society, becoming a Shinigami meant everything.
Only Shinigami received respect.
Only Shinigami could eat better food.
Only Shinigami lived in stronger houses.
Only Shinigami had a chance to marry beautiful women and rise above the miserable life of the outer districts.
But if they failed?
Then all of those dreams would vanish like an illusion.
They would return to Rukongai, ashamed and defeated.
Back to lives of poverty, hunger, and bitter cold.
And if they were unlucky…
They might even become food for a wandering Hollow one day.