Makoto Ito, Madarame and Ayasegawa walked between the green tiles and white walls, heading straight for the Thirteenth Division.
As they turned a corner, a tall, beautiful girl with twin ponytails stood waiting. Dressed in a Shinigami uniform, she held a food box in her hands, blocking their path.
Upon seeing Makoto Ito, she hesitated for a long moment before finally speaking.
"Are you from the Shino Spiritual Arts Academy?"
Makoto studied her face, recognizing her as one of the students who had taken the assessment with him, though he couldn't immediately recall her name.
"Yes," he answered.
Her expression brightened. "We graduated in the same class! My name is Tamura. Thanks to your help, all thirty-three students in our group passed!"
At her words, Ito finally remembered her. They had interacted briefly during their academy days. Seeing the food box she was holding, he accepted it without hesitation.
"Tamura, thank you. I'll be sure to enjoy these pastries."
After exchanging a few pleasantries, he waved goodbye and continued walking.
Not long after, Tamura's voice called out from behind him.
"Ito-san! I've joined the Fifth Division. If you like the pastries, feel free to visit me anytime—I'll make more for you!"
Her words carried a hint of nervousness, but also sincerity.
"Well, well," Ayasegawa teased, nudging Ito with a smirk. "Looks like our little Ito is quite the ladies' man!"
Beside him, Madarame chuckled, giving Ito a thumbs-up. Any previous tension they had felt earlier seemed completely forgotten.
Makoto rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Oh, come on. She was just thanking me for saving her life."
Ignoring their laughter, he opened the food box. Inside were eight meticulously crafted rabbit-shaped pastries. A faint milky aroma drifted from them.
Curious, he picked up two and stuffed them into the mouths of Madarame and Ayasegawa before trying one himself.
Their reactions were immediate.
"This is amazing!"
Ito savored the soft, delicate texture. Compared to the pastries from the shops he had known in his past life, these were on another level.
"This girl should've been a dessert chef instead of a Shinigami," he thought, amused.
As they continued walking, they neared the Eleventh Division's headquarters. At the end of the bluestone street, a tall figure stood waiting.
The moment Makoto saw him, he felt a chill run down his spine. His grip on the food box tightened.
Dressed in a captain's haori, the man exuded an aura of calm authority. Medium-length hair, black-framed glasses, and a warm smile gave him the appearance of someone refined and approachable.
Yet to Makoto, it felt as though he were standing before a beast that could devour him at any moment. Even though the man's spiritual pressure was perfectly restrained, Makoto's instincts screamed danger.
Aizen Sōsuke.
"What does he want with me?" Ito swallowed hard, feeling his scalp tingle.
Aizen's voice was smooth and pleasant as he spoke.
"Ito, I am Captain Aizen. I've heard of your accomplishments. Are you interested in joining the Fifth Division?"
For a moment, Makoto was stunned. He hadn't expected this. Aizen himself was recruiting him?
Before he could respond, Madarame stepped forward, crossing his arms.
"Sorry, Captain Aizen," he said, his tone firm. "Ito's already part of the Eleventh Division. Captain Kenpachi personally selected him as a team leader. You're too late."
He emphasized Kenpachi's name heavily, as if invoking it to counter Aizen's influence.
Watching this unfold, Makoto internally screamed.
"Bro, are you serious? Are you really challenging Aizen?!"
Upon hearing Madarame's words, Aizen remained unfazed. He simply adjusted his glasses with his right hand and continued looking at Makoto Ito.
"Ito, is that truly your decision?"
Makoto maintained a polite tone, careful not to offend the man who lurked in the shadows, orchestrating events behind the scenes. He wasn't ready to confront such a powerful figure—not yet.
"I'm sorry, Captain Aizen," he replied with a slight bow. "I admire the martial spirit of the Eleventh Division, so I've decided to join them."
Aizen regarded him for a moment before nodding slightly.
"What a pity. The Fifth Division could use talent like yours."
Without another word, he turned and walked away, his presence fading like a passing shadow.
Finally, the three arrived at the Eleventh Division's headquarters. Just as they were about to enter, they spotted a familiar figure leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed, looking utterly bored.
The moment Makoto approached, the man's expression changed, and he greeted him with a knowing smile.
It was Masahiko Yano, the proctor who had overseen the entrance exam for the Shino Spiritual Arts Academy.
"Another one here to recruit you, huh?"
Sure enough, as Makoto drew closer, Yano smirked.
"Ito-kun, why not join the Sixth Division? I can still offer you the same benefits I promised before."
Makoto simply smiled, bowing slightly before politely declining.
Yano watched as he continued toward the Eleventh Division with his companions, shaking his head with an exasperated sigh.
"This kid really doesn't know how to adapt," he muttered under his breath before turning away.
The moment they stepped inside, a small figure suddenly leapt through the air.
Makoto recognized them immediately and didn't react, allowing the person to land squarely on his shoulder.
It was Kusajishi Yachiru, the Eleventh Division's lieutenant.
"Are you Makoto Ito?" she asked in a playful voice, tilting her head.
"That's me, Vice-Captain Kusajishi," Makoto replied with a smile. Without hesitation, he handed her the remaining pastries from Tamura's gift.
Yachiru's eyes sparkled with delight as she snatched the box and hopped off his shoulder, happily munching away.
With that settled, Makoto turned his attention to the towering figure in front of him.
A burly man with a ferocious grin. A long, jagged scar ran down the left side of his face, from his forehead to his jaw. His captain's haori was tattered and worn, mirroring his wild, battle-hungry nature.
Zaraki Kenpachi.
Makoto stepped forward, standing tall.
"Makoto Ito of the Eleventh Division, reporting to Captain Zaraki!"
At his words, Kenpachi grinned wider, his single eye gleaming with excitement.
The tension between them crackled like static. Makoto could feel the sheer weight of Zaraki's battle lust, and he knew the captain could sense his own growing fighting spirit.
With Aizen, he had to tread carefully. But with Zaraki—this was different. A man who lived for battle wouldn't kill him for losing. At worst, he'd be hospitalized for weeks.
And that was a risk Makoto Ito was willing to take.
Just as the moment reached its peak, a loud smack echoed through the room.
"Kenpachi, wait!"
Yachiru, having finished her pastries, suddenly jumped onto Zaraki's shoulders and smacked him repeatedly on the head.
"You can't fight him yet! He hasn't even done his enlistment ceremony!"
Zaraki barely reacted, as if he was used to this treatment. He merely let out a huff of amusement.
Makoto exhaled, half-relieved and half-disappointed.
For now, the battle would have to wait.
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