The next morning, the sun was bright and a cool breeze blew.
Inside the classroom for Class 1-2, over 80 students sat at their desks, waiting for their instructor to arrive.
This morning was homeroom teacher Saitō Jūshirō's theory class, so Fūjin Taichi sat obediently in the last row by the window, with Fujiwara Tatsuma beside him.
Tatsuma looked indifferent, as if nothing had happened the night before, chuckling to himself while reading A Stroll with a Gillian...
Was last night really just a dream…?
Taichi studied him carefully.
The guy looked perfectly normal.
No sign of secret plots, no ominous aura, nothing.
The more Taichi watched him, the more he began to doubt his own memory.
Just as he was still tangled in those thoughts, the classroom door burst open.
Saitō Jūshirō strode in briskly.
He set his teaching materials down and addressed the class in a firm voice.
"Everyone."
"If you want to become a Shinigami capable of standing on your own, you must learn how to perfectly combine theory and practical skill."
"So don't underestimate any theory class."
"Now then—open your textbooks to Understanding the Soul Society."
"Today, we will begin with the origins of the Soul Society."
"Yes, sir…"
The classroom responded weakly in unison.
...
Four hours later…
The academy's long bell rang across campus.
Saitō Jūshirō's lecture finally came to an end.
He closed the textbook reluctantly and glanced around the classroom before sighing.
"I hope all of you will review the material after class."
"Work hard so you can achieve good results in the examination three months from now."
"That's all for today."
"Class dismissed." With that, he turned and walked out of the classroom.
"Finally…" Fujiwara Tatsuma stretched lazily and yawned.
"That old fossil's class is over."
He tossed his book onto the desk and turned toward Rukia Kuchiki, who was sitting nearby.
"Rukia, what do we have this afternoon?"
"The first period is Shunpo training with Instructor Miyamoto," Rukia replied.
"The second period is Hakuda training with Instructor Yagyū. We'll be sharing the class with Class Eight in Dojo No. 4."
"Oh? Shunpo?"
Tatsuma glanced sideways at Taichi, who had been unusually quiet.
"That's your specialty, Fūjin."
He smirked.
"Just try not to make the same mistake you did yesterday."
After saying that, he casually left his book behind and walked out of the classroom.
Within seconds, he disappeared into the crowd of students.
"…That guy." Taichi muttered under his breath.
He slowly stepped out of the classroom as well—but instead of following the crowd, he headed in the opposite direction.
Taichi knew one thing very clearly.
He wasn't a genius.
So the only way he could keep up with everyone else was by training while others were eating or resting.
Otherwise, there was a good chance he'd be eliminated in the exam three months from now.
Following that thought, Taichi walked against the flow of students and arrived at Little Mirror Lake in the southeastern corner of the academy.
Around the lake stood rows of cherry blossom trees.
Beyond them were forty training halls, numbered Dojo No.1 through No.40, used by the academy for practical exercises.
Taichi noticed that Dojo No.2 nearby had its doors open.
So he walked inside.
It was already noon.
Most students were either eating lunch or taking a nap.
Logically speaking, the dojo should have been empty.
But the moment Taichi pushed the door open—
he froze.
Inside the supposedly empty Dojo No.2, a girl was standing in the center of the training floor.
She was practicing Kidō.
"Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south!
Hadō #31: Shakkahō (Red Fire Cannon)!"
"BOOM!"
A blazing red fireball burst from her palm.
It shot across the hall and obliterated a wooden target a hundred meters away.
Taichi's eyes widened in shock.
That Shakkahō…
The power behind that spell looked like something a seated officer would cast.
If she's also a first-year student…
then that can only mean one thing.
She's ridiculously strong.
Meanwhile, the girl practicing Kidō—Saitō Mizuki—had already sensed someone watching her.
Her mood instantly soured.
Peeping during someone's training?
Rude.
She decided to teach the intruder a small lesson.
Quietly raising one finger, she spun around and fired a spell toward the doorway.
"Bakudō #4: Hainawa (Crawling Rope)!"
Whoosh!
A rope of glowing spiritual energy shot forward like a writhing snake.
In an instant, it wrapped tightly around Taichi's arms and legs.
"Whoa—!"
Bound hand and foot, Taichi immediately lost his balance.
Thud!
He crashed face-first onto the floor.
Only after lifting his head did he finally see the girl clearly.
"Miss Saitō!"
Taichi quickly shouted.
"I'm Fūjin Taichi from Class 1-2!"
"We met in the library the night before yesterday!"
"…Oh." Mizuki walked toward him slowly, studying him from head to toe. "So it's you, Fūjin."
Her expression softened slightly.
"But what exactly are you doing here?"
"Same reason as you," Taichi replied, giving his body an awkward shake as he tested the glowing bindings around him. "Just looking for a place to train."
He glanced at her and added politely, "Miss Saitō… could you untie me first?"
"Oh! Sorry about that."
Mizuki quickly dispelled the Kidō, looking genuinely apologetic. "I just… really hate it when people spy on my training."
"It's fine," Taichi said, scratching the back of his head. "If anything, I'm the one who interrupted you."
He glanced around the quiet dojo. It was completely empty.
"By the way, Miss Saitō… shouldn't you be having lunch right now?"
"I'm… not very hungry," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her ear. Her cheeks reddened slightly. "So I thought I'd train a little longer."
Then she paused, pressing a hand lightly against her stomach.
"…Although now that you mention it, I might actually be getting a little hungry."
"Oh! Then you should go eat," Taichi said with a grin. "Leave this place to me. I'll make sure everything's cleaned up before afternoon classes start."
Mizuki hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"Alright… I'll leave it to you, Fūjin."
She gathered her belongings and headed toward the door.
Meanwhile, Taichi removed the Asauchi from his back, preparing to practice the sword style he had learned from the mysterious woman in red—
The Wind-Controlling Divine Flame One-Sword Style.
"Ah—right, Fūjin!" Mizuki suddenly stopped at the doorway and turned back.
"What is it?"
"Teacher Mangetsu asked that you visit the Academic Affairs Office today," she said, smiling awkwardly. "It's about the library incident from before. I managed to get your punishment postponed…"
"But you only have one extra day. Don't be late."
"I understand!" Taichi said quickly. "Thank you, Miss Saitō!"
"I'll be going then. The dojo's in your hands."
She gave him a small bow before hurrying away.
Taichi watched her leave, then turned his attention back to the training hall.
Silently, he raised his Asauchi and began practicing.
One slash.
Two slashes.
Three… four…
Five. Six. Seven… eight…
Nine. Ten. Eleven…
…
Time passed quickly.
Before he knew it, two hours had gone by.
Taichi set the Asauchi aside, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and picked up a bucket and rag from the corner.
Since he had promised to clean the dojo, he started scrubbing the floor.
"Hey. You there."
A sudden voice rang out behind him—loud, sharp, and unpleasant.
Taichi stopped what he was doing and turned around.
Standing in the doorway was a huge, overweight boy, flanked by two companions. The three of them swaggered into the dojo like they owned the place.
The fat one leaned forward, his enormous face looming over Taichi.
"Let me ask you again," he barked. "Who the hell are you?"
Taichi narrowed his eyes slightly as he studied the boy—who looked like he'd eaten enough for three people.
"Before asking someone else's name," he said calmly, "shouldn't you introduce yourself first?"
"Introduce… myself?"
The fat boy stared at him for a second as if he had just heard the most ridiculous joke imaginable.
Then he burst into laughter, clutching his round belly.
"HAHAHAHA! Did you hear that?" he wheezed. "This idiot actually told me to introduce myself!"
His two companions immediately joined in, laughing just as loudly. It took them a good while before they finally calmed down.
Then the skinny one—a boy so scrawny he looked like a malnourished baboon—pointed straight at Taichi's nose.
"You clueless idiot," he sneered. "How dare you ask Young Master Tsunayashiro to 'introduce himself'? Do you have a death wish?"
Taichi let out a cold chuckle.
"…Heh."
Clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation, he bent down again and resumed wiping the floor.
"Still cleaning?" the third boy scoffed.
This one had dark skin and a bulky frame, giving him the appearance of a hulking gorilla.
He kicked the bucket aside with a loud clang, then grabbed Taichi by the collar and yanked him upright.
"I haven't finished asking you yet," he snarled.
"What the hell is a Rukongai rat like you doing in a dojo reserved for nobles?"
"A dojo… reserved for nobles?"
Taichi blinked in sudden realization.
So that's why the facilities here are so much better than the other training halls…
Turns out this place is a private playground for spoiled noble brats.
"Answer me!" the boy shouted angrily. "You ignorant bastard!"
Kusamoto still had Taichi by the collar, shaking him like a raging gorilla. With a furious grunt, he lifted his arm, clearly about to slam Taichi straight into the floor.
But before he could move—
"Hadō #1: Shō (Thrust)!"
The words were spoken calmly.
An instant later, a burst of force erupted from behind Yoshii's waist.
BOOM!
The shockwave blasted him across the dojo like a cannonball. He smashed into the wall with a dull crash, his eyes rolling back as darkness swallowed his vision.
He slid down the wall and collapsed unconscious.
"Y–you're finished!"
The skinny boy—Aso Jirō—pointed at Taichi with trembling bravado.
"You filthy Rukongai rat actually dared to attack a noble! I'm reporting this to the teach—"
"Hadō #4: Byakurai (Pale Lightning)!"
A flash of lightning shot from Taichi's fingertip.
Crack!
The bolt struck Jirō square in the chest.
The baboon-like boy let out a shriek and collapsed onto the floor in a twitching heap.
Taichi casually walked over and picked up his Asauchi, which had been leaning against the wall.
At that moment, the last remaining noble—Tsunayashiro Tokio—realized the situation had taken a disastrous turn.
He immediately spun around and tried to run.
But his massive legs had barely taken two steps when—
Whoosh.
Taichi appeared directly in front of him.
The sudden movement startled the fat noble so badly that his legs gave out.
He fell flat onto the floor with a thud.
"D–don't hit me! Please don't hit me!"
Tokio clutched his head and began pleading desperately.
"I've had a weak body since I was a kid! I can't handle getting beaten!"
"Relax," Taichi said as he lowered his sword. "I'm not going to hit you."
"R–really?"
The fat noble slowly lifted his head, hope flickering in his eyes—
BAM!
A fist suddenly slammed straight into his face.
"AAAAAH!"
Tokio rolled on the floor clutching his eye, wailing in pain.
"I thought you said you weren't going to hit me?!"
Taichi looked mildly apologetic.
"Sorry. You just look so much like a meatball… I couldn't help myself."
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Alright, stop screaming. I really won't hit you again."
"…But I do have a few questions."
"W–what questions?"
Tokio cautiously sat up, still covering his swollen eye while inching backward.
Taichi's expression suddenly turned serious.
"Do you know who I am?"
"N–no… I don't. Who are you…?"
Tokio's mind immediately began racing.
He's this arrogant… and he doesn't even care about the Four Great Noble Clans…
Could he be some kind of royal prince from the Royal Family?!
Taichi continued calmly.
"Then do you know which class I belong to?"
"I–I don't… Which class are you from?"
Tokio's thoughts spiraled again.
This guy casually knocked out Aso Jirō and Kusamoto Yoshii…
Could he be that legendary student everyone's been talking about—the one who beat seven people alone… Fujiwara Tatsuma?!
But…
Wait.
That Fujiwara guy is supposed to be handsome and elegant.
This guy looks… completely ordinary.
So who the hell is he?!
While Tokio was still struggling to figure it out—
Taichi suddenly flashed a mischievous grin.
"Good. As long as you don't recognize me."
"See ya!"
"Wha—?!"
THUD.
Taichi planted his foot squarely on Tokio's massive face.
Then—
Shunpo.
In a blink, Taichi vanished from his sight.
It took a long moment before Tokio finally realized something.
"…He tricked me."
The realization made his blood boil instantly.
His face turned red as he jumped up, shouting at the top of his duck-like voice:
"HEY!! YOU SHAMELESS BASTARD!!"
"One day I'm going to make you regret this!!!"
...
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