Near the inner edge of Shin’ō Academy’s central plaza stood the high platform.
This was the designated stage where each class would perform their planned shows.
Kyōraku Shunsui and the other captains had already made their way over, gathered in a loose group as they chatted among themselves.
A notice had been posted nearby, listing the full program schedule and performance times.
“The first performance is from the student council, huh,” Kyōraku murmured, rubbing his chin. “Kaisawa, Hinamori Momo, and Rukia… those names alone sound like they belong to some very cute girls.”
Thankfully, Ise Nanao wasn’t nearby—if she were, she’d surely be shooting him a withering glare by now.
“I’ve met that girl Rukia,” Shiba Kaien added. “She is pretty cute.”
That immediately piqued Kyōraku’s interest. Admiring pretty women was, after all, one of his favorite pastimes.
“I’m starting to suspect Tachikawa’s real reason for delaying graduation is just to keep enjoying his time in the student council surrounded by beauties,” Kaien muttered, still clearly harboring a grudge.
Ukitake Jūshirō and Aizen Sōsuke were casually making small talk nearby.
Kuchiki Ginrei stood quietly to the side with a gentle smile, his expression composed and unreadable. He wasn’t the oldest present, but he was already a grandfather—his grandson had even married.
In truth, Ginrei wasn’t particularly interested in the so-called cultural festival. The only reason he had come was to do Shiba Kaien a favor. His own grandson was around Kaien’s age and was expected to succeed him as head of the Kuchiki clan one day. The two young men would likely be working together for a long time.
He had originally intended to bring his grandson along, but ever since that incident, the boy had become withdrawn, distant—unwilling to engage with others.
It was something Ginrei worried about constantly. With his son now deceased in service, all his hopes rested on his grandson’s shoulders.
Around the stage, a sizable crowd had already gathered, awaiting the start of the performances. Because they were captains, Kyōraku and the others had been offered spots near the front by students eager to give way.
Kyōraku glanced sideways, still chatting with the Shiba uncle-nephew duo, and spotted Ise Nanao and Matsumoto Rangiku arriving in the crowd.
He waved.
“Nanao-chan!”
Ise Nanao pretended not to see him and continued chatting with Rangiku.
Kyōraku clutched his chest in mock heartbreak. Kaien burst out laughing at the sight.
“You’re all here already?” came a gentle voice.
Unohana Retsu had arrived, accompanied by Kotetsu Isane and Nobu.
“Captain Unohana,” Aizen greeted with a smile.
Kyōraku asked, “How was your walk around the festival, Captain Unohana?”
“It was quite lively,” she replied warmly. “A lot of thought clearly went into everything.”
“Agreed,” Kyōraku chimed in. “If only we’d had something like this back when we were students.”
He and Ukitake had been in the very first class of Shin’ō Academy, back when it had only just been converted from the old Genji School founded by the Captain-Commander. Back then, everything was far more basic and utilitarian.
As the captains continued chatting, Nobu quietly stood nearby without interrupting.
Before long, a student took the stage—it was the head of the Cultural Committee, delivering the opening remarks.
“Welcome, everyone, to the first-ever cultural festival of Shin’ō Academy. What you’re about to see is a series of performances prepared by each class to celebrate the occasion. We hope you enjoy the show.”
“Opening the event will be a dance-theater performance by student council members Kaisawa, Rukia, and Hinamori Momo…”
Among the students, Rukia and Hinamori might not have been familiar to all, but Kaisawa was widely known—head of the Disciplinary Committee, known for her sternness and no-nonsense attitude. Everyone was eager to see what she would look like dancing.
The Cultural Committee head bowed and stepped offstage as three figures slowly emerged from behind the curtain.
Hinamori Momo led the way, wearing a bright pink kimono and full makeup, giving her a more mature appearance than usual.
Rukia followed. Compared to Hinamori, she looked visibly nervous, her face betraying clear discomfort—clearly not used to appearing in such attire, especially before a crowd.
Kaizawa, bringing up the rear, wore her usual blank expression. But her stiff posture gave her away—she wasn’t any more comfortable than the others.
“How lovely…” Kyōraku said, smiling contentedly. If only all these charming girls would join the Eighth Division after graduation…
The crowd gradually quieted down, the silence adding even more pressure to the girls onstage. The first notes of music began to float out from the orchestra pit backstage.
Nobu watched with an amused smile.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Captain Kuchiki Ginrei was staring intently at the stage, eyes locked on Rukia.
The composed and elegant Sixth Division captain was experiencing something like internal upheaval.
She looks… just like her.
The girl on stage—Rukia—looked almost identical to the woman whom Ginrei had long refused to acknowledge as the Kuchiki clan’s former daughter-in-law.
“Rukia, you got this!”
A loud, out-of-place voice cut through the quiet. Many in the crowd frowned and turned to see the source.
It was a red-haired boy waving enthusiastically at the stage.
Already flustered, Rukia flushed a deep red. Idiot Renji…!
Nobu, meanwhile, was watching Ginrei’s reaction closely, his mind working quickly.
So the Kuchiki family has noticed her. That was inevitable—though perhaps a bit earlier than in the original timeline.
Still, Kuchiki Byakuya truly did care for Rukia, even if he rarely showed it outwardly.
But living in the Kuchiki household wouldn’t be easy. With such a brilliant, stoic older brother, Rukia was bound to lose confidence in herself.
The music swelled.
The three girls onstage began to move with the melody—graceful, fluid motions that told a story without words.
The dance leaned toward the gentle and lyrical, as if narrating a quiet tale.
Though none of them were trained dancers, the performance was surprisingly engaging.
Not just at the Academy—Soul Society in general had very few entertainment options. Aside from the nobility, most Shinigami had never even seen a performance like this.
Each of the three dancers had her own charm, and the audience was thoroughly captivated.
From Nobu’s critical standpoint, the choreography was average at best—but it was a school performance. He wasn’t expecting professional standards.
A few minutes later, the piece ended.
Kaisawa, Hinamori, and Rukia bowed and left the stage.
Thunderous applause erupted from the crowd.
“Well done!” Kyōraku clapped along enthusiastically, adding to the momentum.
But just then, Kuchiki Ginrei turned and said, “Pardon me, everyone—I just remembered something I need to take care of. I’ll excuse myself.”
The other captains exchanged curious glances. Shiba Kaien raised an eyebrow.
Was the performance really that bad?
But Ginrei offered no further explanation. He simply turned and walked away.
—
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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