The Shin'o Academy of Spiritual Arts wasn't an institution every Rukongai resident with spiritual power could attend—it had an extremely rigorous admission test.
The most crucial part, without a doubt, was the test for spiritual aptitude.
Although Makoto had taken the admission test in the past, sitting in the office now and looking at the sea of Rukongai residents below evoked a completely different feeling.
It was as though he stood midway up a mountain, gazing down at those climbing from its base.
Seeing the nervous yet excited faces, filled with both hope and fear for the future, Makoto could deeply empathize with their emotions.
As for Byakuya, he maintained his usual haughty aristocratic expression, which seemed cold and aloof.
"Byakuya, you didn't attend the Shin'o Academy of Spiritual Arts, did you?" Makoto asked.
"Attending the academy offers me no benefit."
Byakuya spoke with calm indifference, as though stating the most ordinary of truths.
Of course, his reasoning wasn't incorrect. For minor or mid-tier noble families, attending the academy might have been necessary. But for one of the Four Great Noble Clans like the Kuchiki family, the resources available within the family far surpassed anything the academy could offer.
Zanjutsu(Swordmanship), Shunpo(Flash Steps), Kido(Demon Arts), Hakuda(Hand to Hand Combat)—even skills like ikebana, chess, calligraphy, and musical instruments—all could be learned under the tutelage of the best instructors at Byakuya's whim.
"Truly an enviable statement…"
Makoto adjusted his glasses, his eyes scanning the orderly queues of examinees undergoing the admission test.
"However, living confined within the bounds of nobility, experiencing only what's within those walls, is that not another kind of restraint?"
Byakuya's expression stiffened, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought.
Had this come from Yoruichi, Byakuya would have assumed she was teasing him again. But coming from Makoto…
Over their recent interactions, Byakuya had discovered that Makoto's insights could sometimes pierce directly to the heart of the matter.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the crowd below. A powerful spiritual pressure burst forth, its intensity startling everyone present.
In some respects, it was already approaching the level of a vice-captain!
Byakuya turned his gaze toward the commotion's center, where a boy—a figure matching Makoto's earlier descriptions—stood at its heart.
Gin Ichimaru.
A prodigy, without question.
Feeling the oppressive spiritual pressure, even Byakuya's eyes took on a serious glint.
In an instant, Gin became the center of attention, the undisputed star of the entrance exam.
In every subsequent test, Gin secured first place in everything—except height.
As the academy's director personally handled Gin's enrollment, Makoto and Byakuya approached to offer their congratulations.
This scene did not go unnoticed by the director, who became even more amicable toward Gin, seeing him now as someone tied to the Kuchiki family and the Fourth Division.
This, after all, was one of Makoto's goals for the day.
Although in the original course of events, Gin had graduated early in just one unprecedented year, Makoto knew the academy harbored its fair share of corruption. This connection would shield Gin from unnecessary trouble.
More importantly, Makoto had already marked Gin as a key piece in his strategy against Aizen.
Now that Aizen had fully taken notice of him, maintaining a deliberate distance from Gin no longer served any purpose.
On the contrary, showing a friendly rapport with Gin might prompt Aizen to probe him further.
Later, under the guise of a senior, Makoto personally showed Gin around the academy before leading him to an isolated rooftop.
A breeze swept by as Gin, with his perpetually narrowed eyes and snake-like aura, stood silently behind Makoto, his expression unreadable.
When Makoto turned and gazed at Gin with a playful yet gentle look, Gin's carefully crafted facade faltered. Slowly, he lifted his half-closed eyelids, revealing the striking eyes Makoto had praised many times before.
It was a sensation as if someone had forcibly stripped him of his mask—deeply humiliating.
"That's better. If you want to avoid surgical intervention, you'll need to take better care of yourself," Makoto said warmly.
"Yes, Doctor Senju," Gin replied, a hint of reluctance in his tone.
Makoto paid no mind to Gin's unwillingness. To him, earning the trust of such a cunning and guarded individual was already a victory.
Adjusting his glasses, Makoto said, "Gin, I've looked into the matter you asked about."
Gin's demeanor shifted, his voice urgent. "Who is it?"
"Based on your description, it's likely the Fifth Division's vice-captain— Aizen Sosuke,"
Gin's eyes burned with raw hatred, his spiritual pressure coiling like a venomous snake ready to strike.
Feigning nervousness, Makoto asked, "Gin, what grudge do you hold against Aizen? Surely you didn't enroll just to… Don't be reckless! He's a vice-captain. If you've been wronged, take it to Central 46."
Gin quickly regained his composure, his face once more a cold, unreadable mask.
Looking at Makoto, who was sincerely concerned for him, Gin felt a rare warmth but dismissed it casually.
"Doctor Senju, it's nothing. He just has something of mine, and I plan to get it back."
Makoto nodded, as though relieved. "Well, if you tell me what it is, I could try asking for it back. I don't know Aizen personally, but I can try."
Gin was momentarily moved, but the memory of the slain Rangiku Matsumoto and Makoto's previous injuries stopped him.
This wasn't something he could involve Makoto in.
That man—Aizen Sosuke—was far too dangerous.
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