“I didn’t think Captain Aizen would notice so quickly,” Nobu said in surprise.
Aizen smiled. “Oh? Don’t tell me President Tachikawa was trying to hide it on purpose?”
Nobu shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that. This really is my Zanpakutō’s ability. I only recently acquired it, so I’ve been practicing how to use it. Plus, I train often, and this spiritual energy helps prevent me from getting hurt during practice.”
“I see,” Aizen nodded. “President Tachikawa is so diligent—no wonder you’re so outstanding.”
“A lot of the people around me are the same way,” Nobu replied modestly. “I wouldn’t really call myself diligent.”
“You’re too humble, President Tachikawa. I’ve heard your kendo grades far surpass those of your peers. There’s no way talent alone could account for that. And to think that someone with such exceptional swordsmanship wields a healing-type Zanpakutō—that’s quite the surprise,” Aizen added with a smile. His tone was casual, like he was chatting with an old friend. Despite being a captain, he carried no air of authority, which made it easy for others to let their guard down.
Nobu sighed. “Honestly, I’m surprised too. I was hoping my Zanpakutō would be one with more offensive power.”
“That’s not very honest of you, President Tachikawa.”
Aizen suddenly shook his head, and the smile on his face took on a more inscrutable quality, causing Nobu to pause, caught off guard.
“The Zanpakutō is an extension of one’s soul. Its abilities are a reflection of what lies in your heart. For it to be healing-type, and for you to wield it with such affinity—it means you truly desire that kind of power deep down. It shows that you’re someone who thinks of others.”
“……”
Nobu didn’t know how to respond to that. He simply stood there, a thoughtful expression creeping across his face.
Aizen set down the papers in his hand. “Shall we go check in on Class A? Aren’t they about to start their lesson?”
Nobu glanced at the class schedules and nodded. “They have a Kidō class today. They’re probably doing spiritual motion exercises. We can observe—if you’re willing, Captain Aizen, you could even offer them some guidance.”
He led Aizen and Gin Ichimaru to the open-air Kidō classroom where the Class A students were gathered. Rukia followed alongside him.
The arrival of the Fifth Division’s captain and vice-captain caused quite a stir among the students.
The instructor quickly stepped forward to greet them.
“Hello, Captain Aizen. I didn’t realize you were—”
“It’s nothing. I just came to take a look. Please continue as usual,” Aizen said warmly.
The instructor asked, “Would Captain Aizen be willing to give the students a bit of guidance?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not!”
Aizen stepped to the front of the class, addressing the students with an easygoing demeanor.
Nobu and Rukia remained quietly by the doorway. Rukia seemed to be signaling to one of the students. Following her gaze, Nobu spotted a red-haired boy with a distinctive hairstyle.
Aizen began to explain some of the theory behind Kidō. The students listened intently—after all, it wasn’t every day that a Gotei 13 captain gave a lecture.
Then, he had them take turns performing their spells. He offered each student specific feedback, pointing out mistakes and areas for improvement with a gentle, patient tone.
Watching from the side, Nobu couldn’t help but marvel at the care Aizen was putting into the lesson. Truly “admirable,” he thought wryly. Even Kaien Shiba, who was known for his camaraderie with the students, might fall slightly short by comparison.
But during the lesson, something unexpected happened. When it was Renji’s turn to perform [Hadō #31: Shakkahō], he made a mistake that nearly caused him to injure himself. Aizen stepped in immediately, using his spiritual pressure to suppress the residual blast. Then he patiently explained the principles behind Shakkahō and the key points to watch out for when casting it, encouraging Renji to try again.
Renji, standing in the center of the classroom, could feel all eyes on him—even Rukia was watching from the side. The pressure was suffocating.
He took a deep breath, raised his arm, and chanted:
“O sovereign! Mask of flesh and blood, all creation, fluttering wings, that which names itself with the name of man! Scorching heat and strife, across the seas surging southward, step forward—”
The incantation was flawless. But Nobu sensed that the spiritual pressure within Renji was still off. He took an almost imperceptible half-step back.
“[Hadō #31: Shakkahō]!”
Aizen had clearly noticed it too. The moment Renji’s spiritual pressure surged, Aizen moved without hesitation, pressing a hand to Renji’s arm. The spirit particles, which should have ignited into flame, fizzled out at once—leaving only a puff of black smoke in his palm.
Renji: “……”
Aizen: “……”
Aizen stared at Renji, then let out a long sigh. “You’ll want to go home and review your Kidō fundamentals thoroughly.”
Laughter rippled through the students. Renji’s face flushed bright red. He didn’t even dare glance toward the doorway where Rukia stood. He just muttered a quiet “Yes” and retreated to his seat.
Nobu had been watching Aizen closely. Behind his glasses, he caught the flicker of something in the captain’s eyes.
A quiet certainty, like someone recognizing a lack of talent in another person.
“Renji’s very hardworking!”
Rukia’s voice rang out unexpectedly beside him.
Nobu glanced at her from the corner of his eye and realized she’d assumed he had been laughing at Renji earlier.
“I wasn’t laughing at that student.”
“Then who was President Tachikawa laughing at?” came a new voice.
It was Gin Ichimaru. His eyes were half-lidded as always, his expression unreadable, half-smiling.
“It was nothing,” Nobu said mildly. “I just remembered how I was when I first started learning Kidō. I wasn’t much better than him.”
“Is that so?” Gin sounded surprised. “I find that hard to believe.”
To him, the president of Shin’ō Academy’s student council didn’t seem like the type to struggle with anything. Gin knew what talent looked like—everything came effortlessly to the gifted.
“It’s the truth.”
Nobu remained unbothered, steering the conversation elsewhere. “Though that student’s Kidō may be lacking, I did notice something special about him. Maybe his talents lie elsewhere.”
[Rukia]
[Affection Level: 31]
Gin said nothing more.
But the smile on Nobu’s face deepened.
Aizen taught the entire class with care and dedication, earning the admiration of every student present. They all came to genuinely like this kind and approachable captain—many of them had assumed a Gotei 13 captain would be an intimidating, distant figure.
When the class ended, the students watched with visible reluctance as Aizen and the others departed.
“These kids were quite the experience,” Aizen said as they left. “Reminded me of my own days at the Academy.”
He turned to Nobu with a cheerful smile. “It’s been a long time since I last came here. Now I’m thinking I should visit more often—if the teachers and students don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind giving a few guest lectures now and then.”
—
This is a fan translation of 限制级死神 by 易安z. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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