Fūryūzan — 1,729 meters tall, stretching 517 meters wide — loomed over North Rukongai's 61st District, its peak the highest in the region. Now, it stood as the training grounds for Soul Society's most infamous development unit: the Daymoon Class.
At the foot of the mountain, Higashi Shuuichi stood gazing upward. As the sole instructor of the Daymoon Class, today's examination was entirely his creation.
"Seven years… gone in a blink."
The conflict with Aizen had gutted Hueco Mundo's forces. The aftermath bought Soul Society an unprecedented seven years of peace.
Kurotsuchi Mayuri, ever the meticulous butcher of science, used the lull to push his Reconstructed Soul Project. Now, it was ready to enter Phase Two.
The theory had proven solid; now came the phase to test soul cohesion under spiritual pressure release and manipulation.
And it required combatants on the level of Vice-Captains, maybe even Captains.
But for controlled conditions, Mayuri suggested no more than two official Captains.
Shuuichi had originally intended to participate.
After all, suppressing his output to "average Captain-class" wasn't difficult.
But that changed when Shiba Kūkaku finally delivered news he'd waited on for seven long years—
She had completed the cannon to the Royal Palace.
Built alone. Without him.
Not once in the process had she let him help.
Aizen's manipulations—useless. This woman, brash and wild on the surface, was cunning as hell.
For seven years, Shuuichi had tried everything—compliments, outings to District One, even taking her shopping, much to Soi Fon's envy.
She didn't budge. Just a friend, nothing more.
Fortunately, Aizen hadn't blamed Shuuichi. He chalked it up to the Shiba Clan's lingering noble status shielding her from pressure.
Originally, Shiba Kaien hadn't made Shuuichi's candidate list for the Daymoon Class.
But one night, Aizen came to him.
"Invite Kaien."
The implication was obvious.
With Shuuichi's reputation—having slain Barragan and founded the Daymoon Class in that glow—he could send these recruits anywhere.
He wasn't bound like the Gotei 13; as long as he didn't order open rebellion, the Daymoon Class was his to command.
So… letting Kaien "encounter danger" in the course of a mission?
Hardly a challenge.
With Kyōka Suigetsu in Aizen's hands and Shuuichi's flair for complex execution, Kaien's future was sealed.
Shuuichi did pity him.
So many times targeted by fate. If his name were Kurosaki, he'd be the protagonist.
But he wasn't. He was Shiba.
With access to Soul King-level tech. A walking liability.
Possessing what should not be held, invites tragedy.
That was Kaien's fate.
This examination? A dumpling crafted for that vinegar.
He and Aizen had kneaded it together.
As morning light spilled across the land, clouds drifted like boats across an endless lake of blue.
Daymoon Class members began arriving.
First to land, as always: Ikkaku Madarame, the bald brawler.
"What the hell! Where is everyone?! They not interested in the prize or what?!"
Seeing only Shuuichi waiting at the base, Ikkaku shouted in frustration.
"Actually, we're early," said Yumichika Ayasegawa, appearing behind him with a whisper of shunpō.
"Shuuichi-sensei said ten o'clock. We're twenty minutes early."
He glanced at the pocket watch in his hand.
A gift from Shuuichi—each student had received one. Only a few actually carried them.
"So what?! If they're slower than me, they're late! Especially that… what's his name—oh right, Iba Tetsuzaemon! I still owe him a fight! You better help me corner him today, Yumichika!"
Ikkaku rubbed his head, grinning.
Seven years had taught him how vast the gap was between him and Shuuichi.
Originally, he kept challenging Shuuichi over and over, but two years ago, Shuuichi had enough—
He brought in Iba Tetsuzaemon.
Unlike the beatings Shuuichi gave, Iba could go toe-to-toe with Ikkaku.
An equal. The kind of fight Ikkaku lived for.
And when Iba told him—between bloodied grins—that his mother had died during the Hollowfication incident that branded Shuuichi and Urahara as traitors…
That hit different.
Shuuichi had always claimed innocence.
Iba didn't care. Unless Yamamoto Genryūsai himself exonerated him, he held Shuuichi responsible.
Yet Iba was torn.
He'd inherited his mother's obsession with justice.
And in all of Soul Society, no one embodied it more than Higashi Shuuichi—besides that betrayal.
It took him a year to accept the invitation to Daymoon Class.
But he joined.
And set a goal: beat Shuuichi, and drag the truth from his mouth.
Ikkaku, of course, had a simpler proposal:
"Bro, you wanna beat Shuuichi? So do I. Let's push each other 'til we crush him."
If Ikkaku had two favorites in this class, they were Yumichika and Iba.
No question.
And speak of the devil—
"I'm here, Chief Higashi!"
Iba Tetsuzaemon landed with calm swagger, Shinigami uniform under a dojang coat, sleek sunglasses, Zanpakutō resting on his shoulder.
He was the only Daymoon student who still called Shuuichi "Chief"—formal, distant.
And Shuuichi didn't mind.
It was Iba's way of reminding himself why he came.
Why he wouldn't forget.
The truth behind the Hollowfication was still a sealed box, with most participants waking up in the Human World as branded traitors.
To Iba, his mother's death was an unanswered crime.
"Perfect timing," Ikkaku charged forward. "Let's finish what we started!"
They started brawling right in front of Shuuichi.
Yumichika gave their instructor a look: Sorry. It's just how he is.
Then, two more students descended.
"Apologies, Shuuichi-sama! I'm late!"
Kotetsu Isane, hair tied in a ribbon, rushed forward. "It's 4th Division intern day—I had to delegate tasks before I could come!"
Shuuichi smiled. "You're not late. We haven't even hit the start time yet."
The Kotetsu sisters were night and day.
Isane—timid to a fault.
Kiyone—fiery and loyal to Ukitake Jūshirō to the exclusion of all else.
Too bad. He'd have preferred Kiyone.
"And what about your Lieutenant, Yamada Kiyonosuke? Isn't he supposed to handle this kind of thing?"
Shuuichi didn't involve himself with 4th Division affairs anymore—too much hassle from a certain woman.
Still, while training Isane to Vice-Captain-tier healing kido, he'd picked up on 4th Division's internal politics.
Yamada had replaced him as Vice-Captain, and pushed a healing-only hierarchy.
Combat skill didn't matter—only healing proficiency.
Isane, despite her lacking battle power, sat comfortably as 3rd Seat due to her raw talent.
If she were more ambitious, she could probably replace Yamada.
Especially since Shuuichi's own kidō was unparalleled—Tenshirō Kirinji himself had taught him everything.
Even Unohana couldn't beat him in pure healing arts.
Yet Yamada often skipped key division events. Suspicious behavior for someone once so desperate to impress Unohana.
Had he been replaced? Possessed?
Too many questions.
But Shuuichi had bigger problems.
If he noticed, surely Unohana did too… right?
Then again… did Unohana care?
That woman—secretive, brilliant—played the game like no one else.
She'd deduced Aizen's fake death from instinct alone… and still didn't blow his cover.
She just watched.
Maybe he needed to speak to Aizen. Let him look into Yamada.
Shuuichi didn't have the reach.
But Aizen? He could unmask a ghost if needed.
Just as that thought formed, another voice joined them.
"Captain Kyōraku said the winner of today's exam gets guaranteed training to unlock their Bankai and become a Captain?"
The one speaking: Ise Nanao.
Technically 8th Division's Assistant Captain, she acted as Vice-Captain in all but name.
One of the few who still referred to Shuuichi as "Captain," because Kyōraku did.
Shuuichi knew the subtle respect that title implied.
Kyōraku's way of saying: You still belong with us.
But Shuuichi wasn't so easily moved.
"And what about you, Nanao? You don't even have a Zanpakutō, right?
Did Kyōraku send you just to learn kidō from me?"
He smiled. No denial.
After Urahara fled with the Grand Kidō Chief and his deputy, Soul Society's kidō hierarchy had collapsed.
Among the new generation, only Aizen and Shuuichi were true masters.
"I'm just here to observe," Nanao adjusted her glasses.
"Kyōraku says if you claim you can teach a Shinigami Bankai, then you can.
Even Soi Fon never got your method. He sent me to see it with my own eyes."
Shuuichi nodded.
Sooner or later, Yoruichi would sneak back from the Western District to confirm this herself.
She'd hear whispers, probably from Kyōraku or Ukitake.
And she'd realize:
Shuuichi had used Mayuri's intel and Kanemidai Tokitana's resources to recreate Urahara's Tenshintai—the soul-accelerator tool used to force Bankai.
Well… a knockoff.
The counterfeit could only be used three times. And the materials were nearly impossible to replace.
One had already gone to Tokitana—wasted, in Shuuichi's opinion, given his trash Shikai.
Two, Shuuichi intended for Yoshima Ōshu, whose Shikai was already terrifying.
Of course, value had to be extracted.
Thus this exam, co-designed with Aizen.
The final victor? Already pre-selected.
Just like reality shows in his former life—rigged from the start.
But everyone else?
They'd have the experience of a lifetime.
And the third use?
Shuuichi would hold that back—for the next exam. A new bait.
He was a master of the illusion—his "promises" weren't illusions at all.
Finally, one minute before the official start time, Kaien arrived.
"Sorry, Shuuichi-kun. I'm late."
Before Shuuichi could reply—
"Late? Ha! Someone else hasn't even shown their damn face yet!"
Ikkaku, still glowing from victory over Iba, cackled.
"Wait, someone's later than me?" Kaien blinked. "Who?"
He scanned the crowd. Then:
"Ōshu? That's impossible. He's always first."
That offhand comment immediately put Shuuichi on alert.
He knew what Ōshu was doing.
But this late?
Something was off.
"Ōshu…"
Shuuichi's eyes narrowed.