Squad 10 Barracks.
"Captain, you're slacking off again."
As Matsumoto Rangiku stepped into the captain's office, the thick scent of sake hung in the air. Documents lay scattered across the desk, alongside a few untouched snacks and an open bottle of liquor.
Squad 10's current captain, Shiba Isshin, was sprawled out snoring beneath the desk.
With a sigh, Rangiku stepped forward and gave his infuriatingly carefree face a few good stomps.
"Hmm?"
Isshin groggily opened his eyes to find his stunningly beautiful lieutenant glaring down at him.
"Rangiku…"
"Captain, did you finish yesterday's work?"
Isshin scratched his head as he sat up. "Work? What work?"
"Captain!"
He scrambled to his feet, apologizing as he went, claiming he'd take care of it immediately.
Rangiku heaved another sigh and began cleaning the mess on the desk. She suddenly noticed a stack of unfamiliar documents.
"…What's this? Student Council?"
Isshin shot up and snatched the papers from her hands.
"Nothing important."
Rangiku narrowed her eyes. "Captain, is there something in Squad 10 that your lieutenant isn't allowed to know about?"
He laughed awkwardly. "I told you, it's nothing. Just a small matter."
Rangiku crossed her arms under her ample chest. "Whatever. Just get back to your damn paperwork."
But instead of filing the papers away, Isshin tucked them into his robes.
Something crossed his mind. "Hey, what was the name of that student you said you wanted to bring into the squad?"
"Tachikawa Shin. Captain, could you please start taking squad affairs more seriously? If all the talent gets recruited by other divisions, no one's going to be left to help me with the workload. Do you plan on working me to death?"
"Tachikawa Shin…" Isshin repeated the name aloud.
Seeing his sudden interest, Rangiku elaborated: "He's from Zaraki District—Rukongai's 80th. I met him during a mission. His spiritual pressure was above average for a civilian, so I recommended him to Shin'ō."
"Zaraki, huh," Isshin clicked his tongue. He knew exactly what kind of place that was.
Rukongai was divided into eighty districts circling Seireitei. District 1, closest to the center, had good order, livable conditions, and food security. District 80—furthest out—was a land of starvation and bloodshed, where killing was as common as breathing.
"What kind of person is he?"
Rangiku thought a moment. "A genius. He's a fourth-year now. He scored top marks in all four core arts—Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō. In his third year, he even defeated his Zanjutsu instructor in class. But he's also a slippery one. I offered him a spot in Squad 10, even guaranteed him Twenty-third Seat—and he turned me down."
"…He turned you down?" Isshin was stunned. He gave his lieutenant a sidelong glance, as if doubting whether this guy was even a real man.
A vein pulsed on Rangiku's forehead. She knew exactly what that look meant.
"Twenty-third Seat…" Isshin muttered. He suddenly remembered that seat had recently become vacant due to retirement.
"Too low, maybe? You said it yourself—he's a genius. You know how far geniuses tend to go. We should be offering him a high-seat post."
High-seat officers—ranks 3 through 10—were considered the core operational pillars of any squad.
Rangiku blinked, surprised at Isshin's sudden seriousness. "But we have no openings within the top ten seats. And I checked his Academy file—he hasn't even manifested his Zanpakutō yet."
Isshin waved that off. "The Academy only teaches so much. Most Shinigami don't awaken their Zanpakutō until after joining a squad. And didn't you say he's crafty? Are you sure you even know all his cards?"
Rangiku hesitated. The final decision was the captain's, after all.
"So… which seat?"
Isshin smirked. "Go talk to him again. See what he wants. The Academy's on break, right? He should have plenty of free time."
After final exams, Shin'ō students who hadn't graduated received a substantial break. Since many came from far-flung Rukongai districts, the school still provided food and lodging for those who chose to stay.
Most classrooms and training halls sat unused during this time, available for students to reserve. Any damage done during usage would be logged and billed to the student after graduation.
Inside an empty Zanjutsu hall, the sound of wood clashing against wood echoed sharply. Two silhouettes moved in swift tandem, their sparring more akin to a dance of flowing steel.
Or at least—it would seem like that, until one looked closer. This wasn't a duel.
It was a lesson.
"Too slow, way too slow, Hisagi. Do you realize how wide open you are?"
"And you've got the nerve to say you stayed behind for my sake? Don't flatter yourself."
Hisagi Shūhei gritted his teeth, gripping his wooden sword tightly, swinging with all his might—trying, at the very least, to touch his opponent.
But his every move was anticipated. Or maybe, the difference in speed and reflexes was just too wide. Every strike of his was intercepted or evaded with ridiculous ease.
One more lunge. Missed again. The next instant, the opponent blurred to his side. With a desperate yell, Hisagi swung sideways.
Shin didn't dodge.
He simply raised his Shinai.
Clang!
The wooden blade vibrated with a clean metallic note. Hisagi's weapon went flying. Pain seared through his hands as he fell back, breathing hard.
He sat there, stunned, staring at the floor where his Shinai now rested. Shin calmly walked over, picked up a water jug, and tossed it to him.
After gulping down a few mouthfuls, Hisagi's breathing evened out. He looked up to see Shin casually spinning his Shinai between his fingers.
"I regret staying here over the break," Hisagi muttered.
Shin grinned. "You're the one who asked me to train with you. What, can't handle a little loss?"
Hisagi didn't respond. Losing to Shin wasn't shameful. He'd never once beaten him.
What was shameful was the feeling that no matter how much he trained, he could never catch up. Not even close. He didn't even know where Shin's limits lay.
"…Just how strong are you?"
Shin replied with a smile. "Saying it out loud ruins the mystery. Figure it out yourself. If you ever push me to go all out, I'll be impressed—and I'll give you a genuine compliment."
Just then, a slow clap echoed through the silent dojo.
"…What a cool line."
Neither of them had noticed the door open. A figure leaned lazily against the frame, bathed in warm sunlight. Her golden hair glimmered like silk, cascading down over broad shoulders and curves that could've been chiseled by a master sculptor. Her black Shihakushō parted in a plunging V, revealing confidence and strength wrapped in undeniable beauty.
Her face held a faint, knowing smirk.
Matsumoto-san…
Recognizing her, Hisagi bolted upright. "Lieutenant Matsumoto!"
Since when was she standing there? Did she see me get wrecked like that?
A storm of panicked thoughts filled his head. Then he suddenly realized something else.
She's here for him, isn't she?
Matsumoto stepped inside and removed her sandals. Her Division 10 Vice-Captain's badge gleamed on her sleeve. A dark crimson-sheathed Zanpakutō rested at her hip.
"What brings you to Shin'ō today, Miss Rangiku?" Shin asked, surprised. It'd been a month since they last saw each other.
His past month had been peaceful. He passed his fourth-year exams without issue. And yet—who knew what wheels had been turning behind the scenes?
"Just wandering around," Rangiku said, eyes gleaming as they locked on him. One hand slowly rested on the hilt of her sword.
"I saw you two sparring. Got me a little itchy to move myself. How about a round with me?"
Hisagi gulped audibly, stepping back instinctively.
Does she want to test his real strength?
Shin chuckled. "You've got to be joking, Miss Rangiku. You're Squad 10's lieutenant. I'm just a student. That's bullying."
But Rangiku didn't give him the chance to decline. Her sword flashed out, held reversed across her body.
"Just a friendly match. It's not every day you get to spar with a Vice-Captain, Shin-kun. Don't waste the opportunity."
Before he could respond, she vanished.
Clang!
Steel met steel. Hisagi hadn't even seen her move—only heard the collision of blades.
He backed up, giving them space.
Rangiku smiled. "Not bad."
She flipped back lightly, landing three meters away, eyes fixed on Shin.
"Ready? Here I come."
Shin sighed inwardly. There was no way out now. He raised his Shinai. It wasn't hard to guess what this was about.
Kaien had asked him if he'd accept Squad 10's Third Seat.
Squad 10's Captain was Shiba Isshin—Kaien's uncle. Rangiku was the Vice-Captain.
This was a test.
No matter how brilliant someone's mind was, in the end, strength was the backbone of any Shinigami's worth.
Shin's intellect might be hard to measure. But his power? That could be confirmed in moments.
His blade shimmered, white light flashing as it met Rangiku's thrust dead-on—without him moving an inch.
Rangiku's gaze sharpened. Fast reflexes…
Her feet slid subtly across the floor as she repositioned, blade sweeping low with practiced force. Again, their swords clashed.
Clang!
It wasn't strange to have a strike blocked—but Rangiku felt something was… off.
She was the Vice-Captain of Squad 10. She'd been a Shinigami for decades. Her spiritual pressure, speed, and physical power should far surpass any Academy student.
Shin's only edge was technique.
She didn't believe it. With a sharp pivot, she brought her blade down in a heavy arc.
This time, Shin didn't block. He stepped back precisely two steps—just far enough.
Rangiku halted. She didn't pursue.
Her eyes flickered.
He's figured me out…
Then she grinned.
"If you're really that skilled—why hold back?"
She'd sensed it. As a seasoned warrior, she knew when something was off. Her speed was higher, and yet he was always a beat ahead.
He saw right through her.
Shin smiled faintly. "If you manage to make me fight seriously, Miss Rangiku, I'll give you a sincere compliment."
Her eyes narrowed.
Arrogant.
She struck again—faster this time, blade sweeping with deadly precision toward his chest.
There was no way he could predict it. Not this time. Even if he somehow saw it coming, he shouldn't have the speed to react.
He was just a student. She was a Vice-Captain. And she'd even used a fraction of real power this time—frustrated from his previous rejections and her own stung pride.
Yet…
Clang!
Her Zanpakutō met his again, her sight momentarily eclipsed by the narrow blade.
On its mirrored surface, she saw her own surprised face.
Behind it, the boy's mouth curled in a subtle smirk.
His voice was slow, easygoing, unconcerned.
"I've read you, Miss Rangiku."
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