"It must be that my Zanpakutō is unusually unique. Although I failed this time, I still owe you a thanks, Sōsuke," Ren said with a nod as he got up to freshen up.
Despite his failure, he felt that his recent 'interaction' with his Zanpakutō had yielded some insights. While vague, it wasn't without merit.
After a quick rinse, Ren stepped out of the bathroom to find Aizen dressed neatly in his academy uniform, ready to head to class.
"Sōsuke, can you help me try again? I have a feeling that hypnosis could truly work," Ren asked, his tone earnest.
Aizen paused mid-step. "You're skipping class?"
"There's no point in attending today. The Captain-Commander won't be there, and what they teach in class won't help me now. Mastering Shikai is the most urgent task," Ren replied matter-of-factly.
In the Shin'ō Academy, attendance wasn't mandatory, and being present every day wouldn't guarantee graduation. The final exams were the true measure of one's abilities.
"This method is dangerous, Ren-kun. You've experienced that yourself. Even knowing the risks, do you still want to proceed?" Aizen's tone was serious as he fixed his gaze on Ren.
Meeting his eyes, Ren nodded resolutely. "Sōsuke, passing the assessment is far more important to me than you can imagine."
Aizen sighed and set down his bag of calligraphy supplies. "Fine. I'll stay here and train with you in the dorm. But let me make this clear—if your reiatsu spirals out of control again, I'll have to call for an instructor."
Ren grinned. "Thanks, Sōsuke. I owe you one."
Aizen smiled faintly. "You already owe me plenty already."
----
"Failed again, huh?"
By the time Aizen glanced out the window, the sun was nearly rising.
Today was the exam day.
Over the past two days, he had continuously used Kyōka Suigetsu to hypnotize Ren, repeatedly guiding him to the depths of his soul. Yet each time, Ren would report being 'kicked out' again.
Based on Aizen's understanding of Zanpakutō awakening, it wasn't so much that Ren was being forcibly ejected—it seemed more likely that he was subconsciously withdrawing himself.
Aizen maintained his earlier assessment: Ren was resisting the power of the Zanpakutō on a deeper level, possibly without realizing it.
Drawing on his knowledge of psychology and Ren's descriptions of the phenomena he encountered, Aizen theorized that the cage symbolized Ren's inner repression, while the imprisoned demon represented self-imposed constraints—a subconscious barrier holding back his potential.
"Ren-kun, unless you can untangle the knots in your heart, no matter how much your reiatsu grows, you might never achieve Shikai," Aizen concluded with a hint of regret in his voice.
He hadn't anticipated this outcome. Given Ren's talent, Aizen had assumed awakening Shikai would be straightforward with his guidance.
Instead, this inability to unlock his Zanpakutō revealed a potential ceiling to Ren's growth as a Shinigami—a limitation Aizen found disappointing.
After a brief silence, Ren waved a hand dismissively. "Doesn't matter. You've already helped me a lot, Sōsuke. And, I think I'm starting to understand what's going on with my Zanpakutō."
Aizen raised a brow, intrigued. "Oh? Did you manage to communicate with it? There's still some time left—want to try once more?"
Ren shook his head. "No, better to take this time to rest and prepare myself. I don't know who my special examiner will be today."
"Fair enough. Get some rest—you've got about three hours. I'll grab some food for you from the cafeteria," Aizen offered.
"Thanks, Sōsuke," Ren replied, skipping pleasantries as he collapsed onto the bed. Today's battle would be brutal; he needed to ensure his mental state was at its peak.
Three hours later, Ren woke up on time. The table was laden with food Aizen had brought back, though Aizen himself was nowhere to be seen—likely already on his way to his own exam hall.
After a quick wash, Ren wolfed down the meal, ensuring his body had the energy it needed.
He checked the time and sprinted toward the exam venue.
The dorm supervisor had notified him the previous day: despite his advanced graduation challenge, Ren still had to complete the standard exams. Only after passing all the mandatory assessments would he face the Final Trial.
As expected, achieving early graduation hinged on one critical condition—mastering Shikai.
No matter how well he performed during the Final Trial, if he couldn't learn his Zanpakutō's name or release his Shikai, graduation would be invalid.
Glancing down at the plain-black, sheathed Asauchi at his side, Ren sighed internally. Binding with you is proving to be far more difficult than I anticipated.
Items obtained within mission worlds couldn't be brought out unless they were mission rewards. To secure this Asauchi, Ren had to bind it by learning its name and achieving Shikai. In other words, he needed to transform it into his true Zanpakutō.
Entering the exam hall, Ren briefly reviewed his current status:
[Explorer 404040404 Attributes:]
Constitution: 18 (+1)
Strength: 17 (+1)
Agility: 18 (+1)
Spirit: 24 (+2)
Charisma: 6
Luck: 1
Over the past month, his focus on Zanpakutō resonance had slowed his physical growth, though his spiritual attributes had improved significantly. By his estimation, he was now a solid 16th-class reiatsu user.
"Running a little late, aren't you? Still as casual as ever, I see."
The teasing voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Turning, he saw Yoruichi Shihoin leaning casually against the wall, smirking at him.
Ren stretched and flexed his limbs. "It's not a timed written test, so arriving late isn't a big deal."
The first part of the exam was Hakuda—close-quarters combat, scored directly by the examiners.
Soon, it was Ren's turn. The instructor in charge of the Hakuda examination gave him a complicated look before marking the highest possible score without even bothering to test him.
Ren wasn't surprised. During previous Hakuda classes, this very instructor had sparred with him and, well….hadn't managed to win even once.
The subsequent tests followed a predictable pattern:
Zanjutsu: Perfect score.
Hadō: Perfect score.
Bakudō: Perfect score.
Kaidō: Perfect score.
Shunpo: Perfect score.
Reiatsu Rank: 16th-class.
Many of his classmates had been eager to watch him falter and graciously allowed him to go first. Despite this, by the time Ren finished all his courses, it was already late afternoon.
Following the instructions of the final exam proctor, Ren made his way to the rooftop of the main academy building, where the final test awaited.
The top floor of the academy was rarely visited. Most of the instructors' offices were located here, along with a number of locked, unused rooms that were off-limits to students.
Ren arrived at the door of one such room. Above the entrance hung a large, aged plaque with two bold kanji written in heavy, authoritative strokes: "Genryū" (元流).
After knocking, the sliding doors parted to reveal the room's interior and the figure seated calmly at a tea table.
It was none other than Captain Unohana Retsu of the Fourth Division.
'Sōsuke, this is quite the 'jackpot,' Ren thought as the corners of his mouth curled into an unconscious smile. He could feel the battle hunger rising within him.
From the mission perspective, this was a terrible draw. But personally, he couldn't help but think of it as the best possible outcome.
Indeed, his lone point in Luck seemed to be doing surprisingly well. [T/N - I don't think so...]
Ren removed his sandals and stepped into the tatami-floored room. Behind him, the doors slid shut and locked with a faint click.
Immediately, he felt the presence of a peculiar force field in the room—a handiwork of Kirio Hikifune from the Twelfth Division, no doubt.
Inside this room, reiatsu was capped at the 16th-class level. The only way to overcome this restriction would be to unleash an overwhelming surge of spiritual pressure capable of destroying the containment mechanism. This precaution ensured a level playing field, preventing captains like Unohana from accidentally overwhelming their examinees.
Clearly, the Captain-Commander had taken great care to ensure this exam was conducted with fairness. At least Ren wouldn't have to worry about being obliterated by a sudden spike in reiatsu.
At Unohana's subtle gesture, Ren approached the tea table and sat opposite her, his expression calm and composed.
"This venue was my choice," Unohana began, her voice gentle and serene as her hands deftly arranged the tea utensils. "It is one of the Head Captain's many tea rooms."
Ren glanced around. It was well-known that the Captain-Commander was fond of tea and frequently hosted tea gatherings with his Division One subordinates.
Yet this room didn't seem like the typical venue for such events. Despite its spacious size—nearly 200 square meters—it contained only a single tea table at its centre.
A massive painting adorned the wall to their side. The artwork depicted a fierce tiger locked in battle with a malicious Oni, the brushstrokes powerful and majestic, yet sharp and menacing.
"The old tale of dragons clashing and tigers fighting….yet now it's a tiger and Oni in deadly combat," Ren mused, noticing that he was seated on the tiger's side.
Unohana, meanwhile, was meticulously arranging the tea utensils with a deliberate elegance. Her every motion exuded an almost artistic beauty, a subtle refinement that spoke of her mastery over the tea ceremony.
She wiped each utensil with a silk cloth, warmed the tea bowls, rinsed the ladles, and carefully wiped the teacups.
It felt less like a prelude to combat and more like an invitation to a serene meeting of minds over tea.
In the spacious tatami room, the kettle on the hearth let out a faint hiss as the water boiled. Wisps of steam rose and swirled lazily, creating a soft haze between the two seated figures.
Here, in this intimate space, there was no scent of bloodlust—only the calming aroma of tea.
Unohana rotated a freshly brewed cup of tea and gently slid it toward Ren. The silence remained unbroken, the scene resembling an old, silent film imbued with an inexplicable sense of Zen.
Taking the cup, Ren lightly blew on the surface before draining it in one go. Setting the empty cup back on the table, he waited.
The faint sound of the cup meeting the redwood surface seemed to either break the silence or deepen it further.
Unohana, however, didn't touch her own tea. Instead, she placed a fresh kettle on the stove. Slowly, her narrowed eyes opened, and her calm gaze locked onto Ren's.
The atmosphere shifted subtly but significantly.
It was as if two ancient sword masters meeting on a narrow path. Though their weapons remained sheathed, the invisible pressure of their auras had already begun clashing across the tea table.