The morning light was still thin when Yoji Mirai pushed open his door with a yawn and heard a faint crunch under his foot.
He looked down. Scattered across the threshold was a pile of paper, torn into confetti with the kind of focused, personal fury that could only come from claws.
"My, my. Looks like a certain large black cat had some feelings to work through last night."
Yoji smiled to himself, kicked the scraps into a corner, and set off toward the Shin'ō Academy in a genuinely good mood.
The walk from the Ninth Division barracks wasn't short. He had to loop around the busy commercial district of Rurin'an, pass the open expanse of the soul burial training grounds, catch a distant glimpse of the Repentance Palace rising cold and severe against the sky, and the twin hills of execution beyond it, before the Academy finally came into view.
Fortunately, last night had been Reishi Reserve and not whatever White Burn was cut with, and the weather was clear. Yoji felt good. Sharp, even. His stride had a lightness to it that hadn't been there in a while.
He was almost at the Academy's main gate when a faint pressure grazed the edge of his spiritual senses — like a needle drawn lightly across skin.
He turned his head, somewhat against his will.
Not far off, Captain Hirako Shinji of the Fifth Division stood with his arms crossed, blond hair catching the early light, wearing an expression of profound displeasure aimed directly at Yoji like a weapon.
What can't be avoided can't be avoided.
Yoji switched on his most enthusiastic smile and crossed the distance in two quick strides.
"Captain Hirako! You're here early! Got your eye on someone specific? Worried they'll get poached before you can make your pitch?"
Hirako didn't answer. He reached out and planted a hand on Yoji's shoulder with enough pressure to make Yoji's teeth show.
"Yoji," Hirako said, mouth pulling into something that wasn't quite a smile, a vein visibly throbbing at his temple. "Were you just blowing smoke last night? You think I'm too easy to mess with, or do you just not respect me as a captain?"
"Ow, ow, ow — Captain, I'm being completely wronged here!"
Yoji held up both hands.
"You know the situation in our division! Lieutenant Hisagi decided out of nowhere that she wanted to take a trip today and physically dragged Captain Rokujou with her! And you've seen our third and fourth seats — they've got the energy of two decorative planks. I was the only option left! I had no choice!"
He felt the grip loosen by a fraction and pressed forward immediately.
"And honestly — when Lieutenant Hisagi decides she wants something, who in the entire division can actually tell her no? You've heard her when she's worked up. The whole neighborhood suffers."
To his surprise, Hirako nodded at this with what looked like genuine solidarity and let go entirely.
"True enough. When that girl gets going, half the Seireitei can hear it."
He even tilted his chin up with a faint trace of pride.
"Good thing I had the foresight to see it coming three years ago."
When Hisagi had graduated at the top of her class, Hirako's instincts — honed through years of reading people — had taken one look at that sweet smile and correctly identified the chaos underneath. He'd graciously passed on recruiting her and let Rokujou Kensei have her instead.
Looking back, one of his better decisions.
Though...
His gaze settled back on Yoji, and something in it cooled.
The one who graduated in the same class as Hisagi — that one he'd read wrong.
"Listen," Hirako said, tone shifting into something more measured. "You didn't come here specifically for a certain someone, did you?"
Aizen Sosuke was a problem. Hirako couldn't pin down exactly what kind of problem yet, but his instincts had been ringing at a steady, insistent frequency ever since he'd first encountered the kid. And the character Yoji had built his story around mapped onto Aizen in ways that were hard to dismiss as coincidence. The last thing anyone needed was those two in the same division.
Yoji kept his expression open and easy.
"Not at all. Honestly, I don't even know who's graduating this year or who's supposed to be exceptional. I'm here to make an appearance and go home."
"Is that right?" Hirako's tone shifted again, turning almost conversational. "Because the way I heard it, you were out by the river last night specifically sharing drinks with the most talked-about graduate in the Rukon District. Seemed like a pretty deliberate warm-up to me."
Yoji kept the smile in place and was already lining up his response when a new voice cut through the conversation.
"Oh, you're both here early! Hirako, Yoji, my man."
Lazy, warm, faintly melodic. Yoji turned and felt his shoulders drop about an inch.
"Didn't expect you to come in person, Shunsui," he said with a grin. "There must be someone in this graduating class who actually caught your attention."
Captain Kyōraku Shunsui of the Eighth Division strolled up looking exactly as he always did — captain's haori thrown loosely over one shoulder, straw hat tilted at a relaxed angle, a few loose curls framing a face wearing its permanent expression of unhurried ease, faint stubble and all.
"Ha," Kyōraku laughed, stopping beside them. "The Eighth's been short a lieutenant for ages and the seated officers I've got aren't cutting it. Thought I'd try my luck in person."
He glanced at Hirako with a note of cheerful competition in his voice. "Fifth Division's been running without a lieutenant too, hasn't it? Maybe go easy on me today?"
"Idiot," Hirako said, already walking toward the Academy entrance, not bothering to turn around. "The good graduates get to choose us. We don't get to choose anything."
Yoji fell into step behind them.
"With two captains here, I don't even know why I showed up. A fifth seat from the Ninth is not going to be pulling top talent out from under you two. I'll be lucky to find anyone at all."
The gap in perceived seniority was hard to overstate. Two captains on one side, a fifth seat with no lieutenant anywhere in sight on the other. Any promising graduate with options would make that calculation in about three seconds.
Yoji leaned slightly toward Kyōraku and lowered his voice.
"Since you always know everything, Shunsui — who are the ones to watch this year?"
Kyōraku tucked both hands into his sleeves and answered with the air of a man reciting something already settled.
"Three who really stand out. Yadōmaru Lisa — top of the class in Flash Steps. Sarugaki Hiyori — top in combat. And Aizen Sosuke — top in Kidō."
He raised his voice toward Hirako's back. "Captain Hirako! I've got my eye on Lisa-chan. Could you maybe look the other way on that one?"
Hirako didn't break stride. "Why would I let her go? She's adorable."
"Oh dear, that does complicate things," Kyōraku said in the tone of a man performing mild theatrical distress. "I was really hoping for a cute girl as my lieutenant too~"
Yoji looked at both of them and couldn't help himself.
"With respect, gentlemen — if you're selecting a lieutenant based primarily on cute, you're going to age ten years in the first two."
He was speaking from direct personal experience. He had watched Rokujou Kensei's hairline make its slow, steady retreat ever since Hisagi came on board. The man was barely middle-aged by shinigami standards. It was a tragedy.
"Yoji, Yoji, Yoji." Kyōraku shook his head with a grin, wagging one finger. "Having someone charming around every day improves your mood, improves your focus, improves your whole quality of life. You just haven't experienced it."
"Exactly!" For once, Hirako nodded along in complete agreement. "Every morning just feels full of possibility."
Yoji stared at the two of them.
"I am genuinely humbled by your wisdom. You've both surpassed me."
The three of them — well, the two captains and their reluctant fifth-seat companion — arrived at the Academy training grounds mid-conversation to find a captain already waiting there.
Captain Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō of the Twelfth Division stood in the center of the field, hands on her hips, looking at the new arrivals with an amused smile.
"Oh, if it isn't the three drinking buddies. Staking out the training grounds this early for fresh talent?"
Yoji snapped to attention immediately.
"For the record, Captain Ōtoribashi — I am not with them."
"Mm-hm," she said, not convinced in the slightest. "The three of you get blackout drunk together on a regular basis and cause some kind of scene around the Seireitei. That reputation's been around for a while."
"Speaking of drinking," Kyōraku said, turning to Yoji with a slightly injured look, "you haven't invited me out recently, Yoji. That's a little cold."
Yoji spread his hands.
"Shunsui, that is genuinely not my fault. I haven't updated the novel, which means no royalties, which means I can barely afford the cheap stuff right now. Next month when the new book's advance comes in, I will personally buy a proper round for everyone. That's a promise."
"Done!" Kyōraku's mood immediately lifted, and he drifted naturally to Ōtoribashi's left side.
Hirako took up her right, still grumbling faintly, and managed to add: "For the record, I'm not a skirt-chaser. I simply have a deep and genuine appreciation for the beauty in all women."
Yoji fell into position three paces behind the captains, listened to that statement, and quietly rolled his eyes toward the sky.
Ōtoribashi smiled and let it go.
Because at that moment, this year's fifteen graduating students had filed into the training ground in a neat row, and everyone's attention shifted forward.
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