"Everyone? I'm part of 'everyone' too, right? So that means I get a share?"
Urahara Kisuke reached out cheerfully toward the bento box, but froze midway.
That's because Shihouin Yoruichi was staring him down. Her gaze was sharp—clear as day: "Touch it, and I'll cut your hand off."
"So... 'everyone' just means Aiyan, huh."
Kisuke awkwardly pulled back his hand. For a man who might one day invent the Hōgyoku, losing his hands wasn't worth a bite of breakfast.
"Thanks," Aiyan said calmly.
He glanced at Yoruichi, who kept sneaking glances his way but instantly turned her head whenever he looked back. A small smile tugged at his lips as he opened the bento box.
Inside: eggs, beef slices, purple sweet potatoes, and a carton of milk.
It looked plain, but every item was refined spiritual food—dense with spiritual particles. Regular consumption would significantly boost Reiatsu accumulation.
Clearly, this was a typical breakfast for one of the Four Noble Families.
"Well?" Yoruichi asked, trying to sound casual.
"For the taste alone, I give it 97 points," Aiyan said with a light chuckle. "The remaining three points are for your heart."
He picked up a piece of egg and chewed it slowly. Yoruichi looked away with a huff, but the tips of her ears were red.
"Hmph! Of course! Do you even know who cooked it?"
"I've been making breakfast myself lately. I just accidentally made too much, so I brought it along."
"It's a waste to throw away food infused with high-level spiritual energy," she added, turning her back to hide her smile.
"Student Urahara," Aizen spoke up, smiling as always. "If you haven't eaten, I still have extra breakfast."
"And so does everyone else. Anyone who hasn't eaten can take one. I can't finish them all, and it'd be wasteful to let them go bad."
He walked toward the doors of the Kendo Hall, opened them, and revealed the mountain of bento boxes stacked behind.
There were at least a hundred.
"...You're really popular, Aizen."
Kisuke was stunned.
"If Shin'ō Academy had a Strength Ranking and a Popularity Ranking," said Shiba Kaien in disbelief, "you and Aiyan would dominate both."
"You can do it too," said Hisagi Shūhei. "If you showed everyone your Shikai, they'd admire you just like they admire Aizen."
"Not happening," Kaien waved his hands. "Uncle Isshin would kill me if he found out."
Even if he wanted to, the Shiba family wouldn't allow it. Most Shinigami, especially noble families, treat their Zanpakutō's true power as a top secret.
"What are you all standing around for?"
"Go on, take one. It won't taste good if it gets cold."
Aizen encouraged them again.
One by one, they moved. Urahara Kisuke was the first, followed by Tōsen Kaname, Komamura Sajin, Shiba Kaien, and even Kuchiki Byakuya—who, for the first time ever, helped himself to a box.
Indeed, few things brought people closer than sharing a meal.
Though each person got their own box, as they sat and ate, conversations sparked naturally. With the walls of class and background momentarily forgotten, nobles and commoners chatted freely.
It was a stark contrast to just a few days ago when many would pass each other with only a nod.
Now, the atmosphere was warmer. Friendlier.
But just as everyone finished their meals, a realization struck: it was nearly class time, and Shiba Isshin—the substitute teacher—still hadn't shown up.
"That's strange…"
"Uncle Isshin isn't usually late."
As the bell rang and neither Isshin nor Ukitake appeared, doubts began to grow.
Shihouin Yoruichi was about to use Shunpo to check when the door to the Kendo Hall suddenly swung open.
A tall blond man wearing a long-sleeved captain's haori walked in.
"Sorry to keep everyone waiting."
"This is our first meeting. I'm Hirako Shinji, your substitute teacher for today."
"Captain Isshin isn't feeling well, so I'll be handling your class. Today, I'll be teaching you all about kendo."
Shinji walked to the center of the hall with a casual smile.
Everyone blinked in confusion.
A substitute… for a substitute teacher?
Has the teaching situation at Shin'ō Academy gotten that bad?
"To help you understand kendo more intuitively, I'll need a brave student to assist me."
"You there—the brown-haired one with glasses."
"I heard you're very helpful, and that you even released your Shikai just to help your classmates understand Zanpakutō communication. So you don't mind helping your teacher, right?"
Shinji's eyes locked directly onto Aizen.
Aiyan's eyes narrowed slightly.
From Shinji's entrance, he'd only been suspicious. But now? Now he was sure.
Hirako Shinji had come for Aizen.
And it made sense.
In the original timeline, Aizen had hidden his true power carefully—and even then, Shinji had sensed something off about him. Now that Aizen was being open with his talents, of course Shinji would notice even sooner.
No surprise then, that Shinji had arrived at the academy before graduation.
"I would be honored, Sensei."
Aizen's glasses gleamed, hiding the glint in his eyes.
Though he smiled, warm as spring, a sliver of coldness lingered beneath the surface.
"To me," Shinji said, still smiling, "kendo is just one horizontal, one vertical stroke."
"I stand. You fall. That's the path of the sword."
"To help you and the class understand this more clearly, you'll be my opponent for a real demonstration."
He smirked slightly.
"Come at me with everything you've got. Treat me like your enemy. Imagine you have to kill me."
"Because I have a little quirk—once I draw my sword, I can't hold back."
"If I get serious, someone might die by mistake."
Then he reached for his Zanpakutō.
To the others, it looked like he was just putting on an act.
But Aizen, standing across from him, felt the wave of killing intent blast out like a storm.
Clang.
The sound of steel echoed in the hall.
A flash of silver burst forth, the blade catching the light.
Everyone shivered.
In that instant, a razor-sharp strike rushed straight for Aizen's throat.