The massive test field suddenly fell into an eerie silence.
To Rukia Kuchiki and Abarai Renji, it felt as though the entire world had frozen for a moment.
Especially when they sensed the curious and intense gazes gathering around them, an absurd thought crossed their minds. They shook their heads desperately, silently praying to avoid the impending disaster.
But fate in Soul Society often delights in irony.
The more one wishes for something not to happen, the more inevitable it becomes.
"Esteemed Shinigami, I am a candidate from the Genjo clan," a young man dressed in the formal robes of a minor noble began earnestly. "When I took the entrance test last year, my spiritual pressure only registered four tier poles—far below the threshold for Shin'ō Academy. I've spent this entire year training to return stronger, but even now I lack the courage to take the test."
He paused dramatically, then turned toward the bandaged figure slumped between Rukia and Renji. "But after witnessing the sheer determination of this injured candidate, I felt deeply inspired."
"Look at him!" he continued, gripping Kuroba's bandaged wrist with reverence. "His mouth, hands, and legs are all bound in bandages, yet he's here—refusing to surrender his right to be tested. The pain etched across his face and his furrowed brows show how much he's enduring."
"In admiration, several of us have decided to give up our spots in the queue so this noble soul can go first and return to rest sooner."
He stepped aside dramatically, gesturing toward the now-cleared path leading directly to the examination platform. The long queue had shifted to create a green corridor of respect.
The thousands of eyes now fixed upon them made Rukia and Renji want to disappear into the ground.
All they had wanted was to find a quiet corner and wait for Shiba Kuroba to sober up from his drunken stupor. They never expected to be shoved into the spotlight so dramatically.
The so-called "bandages" were only meant to keep Kuroba from stumbling off in a drunken haze—or worse, trying to "recognize his wife" again while intoxicated. They had never imagined that these makeshift restraints would turn him into the symbolic "disabled yet determined" hero of the entrance exam.
The whole test site had descended into uproar.
"Please, don't be embarrassed, Senior Shinigami," the Genjo youth added with an exaggerated bow. "We've even spoken with the chief examiner. As soon as the first ten examinees are done, your courageous friend will take the stage. His exam will be brief—just enough to evaluate him without delaying medical attention."
Rukia glared daggers at the boy. Renji cracked his knuckles.
Especially now that the disturbance had drawn the attention of seated captains—visible atop the balcony overlooking the grounds. They were now trapped.
"Look! Isn't that the crest of the fallen Shiba Clan?" someone exclaimed, noticing the faded insignia on Kuroba's torn robes.
"It makes sense now!" the Genjo heir declared. "He's not just determined—he carries the burden of reviving the Shiba name. I feel ashamed for ever doubting myself. If this man can face the exam like this, what excuse do we have?"
With his noble status revealed—albeit from a clan long stripped of its glory—Kuroba's "disabled but determined" narrative gained even more traction.
Among the commoners and lower nobles, whispers of admiration surged like wildfire. It was no longer just pity—it was solidarity.
Rukia and Renji stood frozen, inwardly pleading for a miracle.
"If only we could go back and drag him out of the tavern before all this," Renji muttered bitterly.
"Too late now," Rukia sighed.
Suddenly, a refined voice cut through the noise.
"I heard this Shiba heir was ambushed by a Hollow mutation en route to the Academy. I assumed he'd miss the exam. I'm glad I was wrong," the voice said calmly.
Heads turned. Aizen Sōsuke of the Fifth Division had arrived, Momo Hinamori trailing beside him.
"Aizen-taichō is here?"
"No, you're missing the point," another candidate whispered. "This man from the Shiba family was nearly killed by a Hollow and still came to take the exam. That's real willpower. Even a captain acknowledges it."
"A true inspiration. Let him through!"
Aizen's calm affirmation reignited the fervor across the testing ground.
Rukia and Renji exchanged tortured glances.
This wasn't just a tiger they couldn't dismount—it was a dragon they had no hope of escaping.
And when Kuroba inevitably failed the test—registering barely three tier poles of spiritual pressure—their names would be enshrined in the Seireitei's collective memory… as the handlers of the most tragically misunderstood candidate in Shin'ō Academy history.
For centuries to come, whenever anyone saw a bandage, they'd remember the "disabled but determined" Shiba… and the two fools who brought him there.
"You are Rukia from the Kuchiki family, correct? Why so tense?" Aizen Sōsuke's warm smile was as composed as ever, his voice soft and reassuring. "Everyone here seems quite enthusiastic. Are you perhaps worried that the other captains or examiners might raise objections?"
Before Rukia could respond, Aizen continued gently, "There's no need for concern. For the sake of allowing this candidate to complete the assessment as soon as possible, I believe it's reasonable to call in a few favors. I'll speak to the others and ask them to permit him to take the test early. And since no one here seems to object, I doubt the other captains or examiners will take issue either."
His words, delivered with calm confidence, echoed across the testing grounds.
A few murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, most of them unaware that they had simply fallen under Aizen's subtle spiritual pressure and persuasive charisma. As always, his carefully cultivated image of kindness earned admiration—especially among the more impressionable candidates.
And just like that, because of Aizen's calculated benevolence, the narrative surrounding the drunken, bandaged boy—Shiba Kuroha—shifted completely. No longer a disruptive figure, he was now a symbol of perseverance. The supposed "disabled candidate" who had survived a Hollow attack had become the center of attention.
Still snoring faintly, Kuroha lay slumped against the testing wall, entirely unaware of the legend that was forming around him.
Rukia and Renji, standing on the sidelines, exchanged stiff glances. Surrounded by whispers and curious stares, they could only grit their teeth and follow the instructions toward the examination area—though with the dramatic build-up, it felt more like walking to an execution ground.
No—
It was definitely just the examination room.
If every candidate watching had handed Kuroha a white rose, it would have looked more like a hero's funeral procession than an entrance test.
"Captain Aizen," came a sly, almost sing-song voice from the crowd, "you really are as gentle as ever. It's no wonder the squad adores you."
The soft-spoken mockery belonged to Ichimaru Gin, whose narrow, permanently smiling eyes scanned the crowd. His silver hair caught the light, but his eerie presence made the surrounding candidates instinctively back away. Compared to Aizen's comforting aura, Gin's presence felt like being stared at by a coiled serpent.
"Captain Ichimaru," Aizen replied, unfazed, "that's too kind of you. If you'd arrived a bit earlier, I'm sure even you would have been moved by the resolve of this candidate."
A brief glint passed through Gin's closed eyes.
"I imagine," Aizen added, smiling serenely, "not just you, but the other captains and hopeful students here are quite curious. After all, isn't it compelling to witness whether someone who survived a Hollow attack—against all odds—can pass the academy's entrance test and carve out a new destiny?"
His tone remained soft, but every word subtly fanned the crowd's anticipation, deepening their investment in the spectacle to come.