Chapter 9 – Refining the Outer Shell
Time in the Seireitei was a curious thing. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, but for Nanami, the passing of time carried an unusual weight. Each day, he felt himself evolving—not just in his combat skills or the intricate techniques of Kido he had been practicing—but also in the way he carried himself. As the bonds with his fellow Shinigami grew, Nanami began to consider more deeply how he presented himself outwardly.
Standing tall at 6'2", Nanami was already a figure who commanded attention, whether he wanted it or not. His black hair, often messy from the grueling training sessions, would catch the light just enough to draw eyes. His skin, pale and smooth, stood in contrast to his dark locks, and his sharp black eyes often held a piercing, observant gaze that left many uneasy.
But despite his powerful presence and impressive abilities, Nanami found himself contemplating a change—a desire to not just blend in with the 10th Division, but to refine the external self in a way that aligned more with the man he once was. Deep down, Nanami still carried the echoes of his past life as a doctor and a hitman. There was a certain professionalism he missed from those days—both in how he conducted himself and how he looked.
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One morning, Nanami stood in front of a mirror in his quarters, regarding his appearance carefully. The pale skin, dark eyes, and solemn expression reflected back at him, but the longer he stared, the more he saw the untamed nature of his current look. It was rougher around the edges than the person he once remembered.
His thoughts wandered back to Kento Nanami—the figure from a world he once watched through a screen. Though he wasn't the same person, they did share more similarities than he cared to admit. Their personalities, their sense of duty, and even their cold, calculative exteriors resonated in parallel. But their physical appearance? That's where Nanami saw room for improvement.
His hair, currently falling loosely around his face, reminded him of the messy, disheveled way he carried himself when he was first thrust into this world. But now, as a Shinigami and as someone who had forged bonds with his squadmates, Nanami felt it was time to adopt a more refined, professional look—one that aligned with the person he aspired to be.
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The next day, Nanami took the time to visit one of the Seireitei's few but well-established barbers. It wasn't anything grand, just a small establishment tucked away within the labyrinth of the division grounds, but it had everything he needed.
The barber, a stout man with sharp eyes, greeted Nanami with a respectful nod as he entered. "You're one of the newer members of the 10th Division, right?" he asked, guiding Nanami to a chair.
"That's right," Nanami replied quietly, taking a seat. "I'd like something cleaner. Something more professional."
The barber nodded, understanding immediately. As he worked, Nanami watched the strands of his dark hair fall away, the disheveled mess slowly being replaced with a more structured style. He asked for something simple—similar to how Kento Nanami wore his hair: neatly combed back, with just enough volume to maintain its shape but not too extravagant.
By the time the barber finished, Nanami was staring at a more polished version of himself. His black hair, now slicked back and tidy, gave him a refined and dignified appearance. He wasn't the wild, mysterious figure he had been when he first arrived in the Seireitei; now, he looked every bit the composed and disciplined man he had become.
"Perfect," Nanami murmured, giving a small nod of approval. It wasn't exactly the same as the Nanami Kento he had watched, but it suited him—sleek and no-nonsense.
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The next part of his transformation was something more personal. Glasses. Nanami had always worn them in his previous life, a necessity for his work as both a doctor and a hitman. They had become an integral part of his identity, not just functionally, but aesthetically as well. He missed the familiar weight of them on his face, the way they completed the professional look he always strived to maintain.
He visited one of the Seireitei's specialized shops, which dealt in accessories and various items for the more particular Shinigami. After some searching, Nanami found a pair of glasses that were simple, with thin, circular black frames that reminded him of the ones he wore in his past life. Slipping them on, he took a moment to adjust, feeling an odd sense of comfort wash over him.
There it was—the look he had been aiming for. He stood in front of a mirror, fully taking in his new appearance. With his hair slicked back and the glasses perched on his nose, Nanami exuded a calm, calculated professionalism that mirrored his former self, both as a doctor and a hitman. It felt right, like he was finally embracing all parts of himself—the man he had been, the Shinigami he was becoming, and the blend of the two in this new life.
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Returning to the 10th Division barracks, Nanami couldn't help but notice the looks he received from his fellow squad members. Some glanced at him curiously, while others offered quiet nods of approval. Rangiku, of course, was the first to voice her thoughts aloud.
"Well, look at you!" she exclaimed, grinning as she sauntered over to where Nanami was standing. "You clean up nice, Nanami. Very sharp. Very… professional."
Nanami gave her a faint smile, adjusting his glasses slightly. "I thought it was time for a change," he replied calmly.
Rangiku gave a playful wink. "Well, I approve. You look like a man on a mission—no pun intended."
Hitsugaya, who had been watching from nearby, nodded in agreement. "It suits you," he said simply, his tone as direct as ever. "You seem… more focused."
Nanami appreciated the compliment, though he didn't elaborate. In truth, his new appearance was more than just a change in style. It was a reflection of his inner growth, the culmination of the months he had spent training and refining his abilities. He had become more focused—both in mind and body. And this change in appearance was his way of solidifying that transformation.
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As the days passed, Nanami continued to work diligently in the division, honing his skills and focusing on his personal goals. With his new look, he felt more aligned with his purpose. He was still cautious, still wary of revealing too much about his true abilities—especially the power of his Zanpakutō—but he had found a balance between maintaining his secrets and fulfilling his duties as a Shinigami.
His new look also earned him a reputation within the division. While his fellow Shinigami had already respected him for his skill in Kido and his precise combat techniques, now there was something about his presence that demanded attention. His sharp appearance, combined with his quiet intensity, made him stand out even more. He wasn't just a skilled fighter—he was someone to be taken seriously.
And though Nanami remained reserved, the bonds he had formed with his captain, Rangiku, and the others continued to grow. They respected him not just for his abilities, but for the way he carried himself. Nanami had become an integral part of their division, a man of few words but great substance.
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In those quiet moments when Nanami found himself alone, he would sometimes stare at his reflection, adjusting the glasses on his face or running a hand through his slicked-back hair. It wasn't about vanity; it was about control—control over his appearance, control over his life, and control over the power that simmered just beneath the surface.
For now, that control was enough. Nanami would continue to train, to grow stronger, and to protect the secrets he carried. But with his refined appearance and sharpened skills, he felt more prepared than ever to face whatever challenges awaited him.