"My name is Saitō Jūshirō, and I will be your homeroom teacher for the next six years."
Standing before the large blackboard, the man in a black Shinigami robe carried himself with a stern, commanding presence.
His sharp eyes swept slowly across the classroom before a faint spark flashed within them.
"Remember this well!"
"Just because you're not in the Special Advancement Class doesn't mean you're inferior!"
"If you train with the same determination as those students, you can still become outstanding Shinigami!"
"…Yes…"
A weak, half-hearted response echoed through the classroom.
Even Fūjin Taichi, who was usually optimistic by nature, couldn't help feeling a little discouraged.
It was already the second day of school, and he had discovered something he truly hadn't expected.
The Shinō Academy openly practiced a good-class / bad-class system.
The so-called top students were gathered together and trained as elites.
Meanwhile, the weaker students were grouped together and left to coast through their education.
After all, most of them supposedly had no future worth investing in.
Once that kind of system was in place…
Those who didn't care simply laughed it off and treated school like a joke.
But those with even a shred of self-respect?
Their morale collapsed completely.
The weak students became weaker and weaker.
Those who originally tried to work hard gradually gave up as well.
Eventually, everyone in the so-called "bad classes" truly became underachievers, dragging themselves through six years under the humiliating label of "trash class."
That said, the academy's system was at least somewhat fair.
Students with Level Five to Level Seven spiritual power were placed together in First Year Class One—the legendary Special Advancement Class.
In theory, those students had the potential to become future vice-captains or even captains.
At the very least, most of them would become seated officers.
Students with Level Three to Level Four spiritual power were assigned to First Year Class Two.
With some luck, they might also become vice-captains or seated officers someday.
At worst, they would still serve as the backbone of their respective divisions.
As for students with Level Two to Level Three spiritual power—
Their numbers were the largest.
So the academy scattered them randomly across Classes Three through Twenty.
Since their spiritual power wasn't particularly remarkable to begin with, unless they possessed some special talent, they would likely graduate as ordinary division members.
Most of the regular soldiers of the Kidō Corps, the Gotei 13, and the Onmitsukidō came from these eighteen classes.
They would spend their careers completing missions, gaining experience, and slowly building up both reputation and salary.
Yes.
Even in Soul Society, seniority mattered.
In fact, it was often far more rigid than in the human world.
The hierarchy of status and privilege looked something like this:
**Five Great Noble Clans
Central 46
Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13
Captains
Vice-Captains
Seated Officers
Ordinary Shinigami
Rukongai Residents**
Each level above possessed absolute authority over the ranks below.
Those below had no choice but to obey.
Anyone who attempted to challenge this system would be judged as threatening the entire order of Soul Society.
And the punishment for that?
Imprisonment… or execution by the Seireitei.
Life in Soul Society also required money.
Food, clothing, housing—none of it came free.
The Seireitei distributed salaries according to rank and position.
The Captain-Commander received the highest pay.
Captains earned far more than lieutenants.
Vice-Captains earned more than seated officers.
And so on.
There was another important detail.
If a Shinigami came from a noble family, they also received an additional noble stipend, calculated according to the rank of their clan.
Someone might ask—
If Soul Society uses currency, how do people in Rukongai obtain it?
If you asked Fūjin Taichi, he would scratch his head and answer like this:
The Seireitei issued the money.
Meanwhile, Rukongai residents exchanged resources for that currency—things like fresh water, grains, vegetables, fruits, and meat.
To maintain this supply relationship, the Seireitei also provided protection to Rukongai.
Both sides benefited.
Why wouldn't they cooperate?
According to what Fujiwara Tatsuma had told him, the Shiba Clan used to be one of the Five Great Noble Clans, and they once held the exclusive authority to issue Soul Society's currency.
But constant jealousy and political pressure from the other nobles, combined with the death of the former Tenth Division Captain and head of the Shiba Clan—Shiba Kazuo, caused the clan to decline.
Even though Shiba Isshin, the branch family head, later succeeded the position of Tenth Division Captain, his carefree and lazy personality made it difficult to reverse the family's downward spiral.
...
"Everyone, pay attention!"
At the front of the classroom, Saitō Jūshirō was still shouting motivational slogans.
His tone almost resembled the high-energy speeches of multi-level marketing recruiters in the human world.
"This year's enrollment brought three thousand and one candidates to the academy!"
"Among them, 1,600 applicants were eliminated for failing to meet the spiritual power requirement!"
"That means only 1,401 students were admitted!"
"The elimination rate was 53.3 percent!"
Then he paused.
His gaze slowly swept across the classroom.
Wherever his eyes landed, students felt something ignite in their chests.
"You!"
His voice lowered, but every word struck clearly.
"You are the lucky 46.7 percent who remained!"
"Even if your spiritual power is weaker than others…"
"With enough hard work, that gap can become insignificant!"
"For the next six years, I will devote 120 percent of my energy to guiding you!"
"And in return—"
He slammed his palm on the podium.
"I expect all of you to give 120 percent of your effort to closing that gap!"
"Yes, sir!"
Under Saitō Jūshirō's almost stubborn encouragement, all eighty students of Class 1-2 responded in unison. The atmosphere became unexpectedly heated, and even Fūjin Taichi couldn't help shouting along with everyone else.
"Hmph. If hard work alone could erase the gap you're born with, then why would there be such things as geniuses and ordinary people?"
"And why would there still be a divide between nobles and Rukongai people?"
Sitting beside Taichi, Fujiwara Tatsuma folded his arms and watched the scene with cold eyes. Finally, he couldn't resist speaking up with open ridicule.
"Fujiwara."
Taichi frowned slightly.
"Saitō-sensei isn't wrong. Hard work really can change your destiny."
"Look at us. We came from Rukongai, didn't we?"
"And now we're studying and training under the same roof as those so-called noble heirs."
"Fūjin."
Tatsuma glanced at him sideways before speaking in a slow, measured tone.
"What would you think… if something you spent decades, even centuries struggling to achieve… could be obtained by someone else overnight?"
"…"
"That is the difference between a genius and an ordinary person." Tatsuma sighed softly, "Do you really think hard work can erase that gap?"
"Maybe effort doesn't always work. But if you don't try at all, then you've already lost everything."
After saying this, Taichi couldn't help but think of what seemed like a "hardworking genius" from another series—a guy with a bowl cut, wearing a green tight-fitting suit. What was his name?
"Tch!" Tatsuma snorted dismissively. "Nobles are born with everything already in their hands."
"Meanwhile, people from Rukongai have to struggle for decades or centuries just to earn the chance to live on equal footing with them."
"What would you think about that?"
"Then we work even harder," Taichi said firmly. "We shorten that time."
"Hah. And what if the nobles are working hard too?"
The mocking smile on Tatsuma's face grew even deeper.
"Sure, some nobles just live off the achievements of their ancestors. But there are also plenty of noble heirs who train diligently day and night."
"This…" Taichi wanted to argue back, but the words stuck in his throat.
In the end, he simply fell silent and stared toward the front of the classroom, where Saitō Jūshirō was busy writing rapidly across the blackboard.
"Fūjin," Tatsuma said suddenly. "I can tell you're unconvinced."
"So take a look at this."
"What?"
Taichi turned his head.
On the desk lay a sword.
Its hilt was jade-green, and the guard was shaped like a begonia flower. Even at a glance, it radiated an unusual presence.
"This is my Zanpakutō."
Tatsuma smiled again, his tone brimming with pride.
"Her name is Yukihime."
"A blade capable of freezing the stars themselves."
"And… my spiritual power is at least Level Six."
"When they tested me, I held back."
"You—!"
Taichi's eyes widened in shock, his dark pupils trembling.
He never imagined that a genius comparable to Shiba Kaien could be hiding right beside him.
"So you see," Tatsuma said calmly,
"If geniuses were so easily surpassed by ordinary people… would they still be called geniuses?"
"Fujiwara, you…"
Taichi found himself completely speechless.
He could only watch as Tatsuma casually slipped the Zanpakutō back into his sleeve before flashing that habitual mocking grin.
Meanwhile, Taichi sank into deep thought.
According to the records in the Great Archive, the first step for a Shinigami was forming a bond with their Zanpakutō.
After that came Shikai—the weapon's initial release.
And beyond that lay Bankai, the final release.
Once a Shinigami mastered Bankai, they could apply to the Gotei 13 to become a captain.
Even if there was no vacant position, the Gotei would still accept the application and conduct a test.
Generally speaking, there were three ways to pass that test:
Pass the captain's examination under the supervision of at least three captains, including the Captain-Commander.
Receive recommendations from at least six captains, along with approval from three others.
Defeat a current captain in combat before an audience of two hundred division members.
Of course, that last method was a rather barbaric tradition mostly associated with the Eleventh Division.
Every generation, the challenger would defeat the previous captain, inherit the position—
—and claim the title of Kenpachi.
(With the exceptions of the first, second, and ninth generations.)