Chapter 12: Request
Sunlight streamed pleasantly through the window. Wisps of steam rose gently between the two of them.
Sensing the timing was about right, Suoh straightened his posture and spoke.
"Terada-san, there's something I'd like to discuss with you. Because of my spiritual power aptitude, I often feel hungry and need to eat more food than usual."
"If possible, when you order supplies from Kuramoyo-ya each time, could you have them prepare an extra half portion? I'll pay for the additional cost out of my wages."
His tone was sincere—neither overly humble nor presumptuous.
He had to fight for this. Fight for every second. Food was critically important to him.
"No need to deduct wages. Use the kitchen ingredients as you need. I'm not lacking that much."
"Terada-ya never mistreats people who work diligently."
Terada-san's expression remained calm, as if discussing the most ordinary matter.
She'd lived far longer than her appearance suggested. Having run this izakaya for years, she'd long grown accustomed to Rukongai's various situations.
"Don't tell Kotama about your situation. The fewer people who know, the less danger."
"Decades ago, someone claimed to have spiritual power aptitude. He kept trying to run tabs at my shop, saying once he became a Shinigami he'd repay me. I refused."
She lifted her teacup. Through the rising steam, her gaze seemed to look through time itself at distant memories.
"He came back several more times when I wouldn't agree. Then one day, he simply never appeared again."
She set the teacup gently back on the table with a barely audible sound. She seemed to be recounting an old story, but it was also a warning.
"I understand. Thank you."
Suoh nodded in comprehension while mentally digesting the key information from what she'd just said.
Disappeared suddenly decades ago—he couldn't help thinking of Aizen's mass soul experiments to create the Hogyoku.
The Hogyoku's creation had required hundreds of Shinigami and numerous Rukongai souls with spiritual power aptitude. However, the experimental timespan was too broad, and the original series contained too little relevant description to determine specific timing.
Besides, souls disappearing suddenly in Rukongai was far too common. That made it even harder to say anything definite.
Given Terada-san's description of that person's behavior—slightly arrogant, persistently pestering—it wouldn't be strange if he'd angered someone and been killed for it.
Rukongai didn't even have the concept of years. Being able to know months and days was already quite rare.
This temporal vagueness made any verification extremely difficult. That particular point frustrated him immensely.
Very satisfied with Suoh's attitude, Terada-san continued asking. This kind of conversation was quite pleasant.
"Do you want to become a Shinigami?"
"Yes. Do you know anything about the Shinoreijutsuin?"
A heaven-sent opportunity. As he answered, Suoh took advantage of the moment to ask the question he'd been wanting to ask all along.
"I know some things. What do you want to know?"
Terada-san picked up the teapot and tilted it slightly, refilling his cup halfway with fresh tea.
A barely perceptible smile played at the corners of her lips. She'd anticipated this question.
"For example, enrollment period and requirements?"
Suoh knew the Shinoreijutsuin's exact location clearly. The other two pieces of information he genuinely didn't know.
Terada-san didn't disappoint him. She spoke slowly.
"You've missed this year. The deadline has already passed."
"As for requirements, it's quite simple. Any soul with spiritual power aptitude who can reach the academy gates alive before the end of March can register."
"For you, that should be very easy. The Shinoreijutsuin entrance is accessed from West District One through the White Path Gate that Jidanbo guards, and you'll be almost there."
"That big guy looks scary on the outside, but his personality is actually quite gentle. If you can't find your way, you can ask him."
"Wait, just walk to the gates and register?"
Hearing this, Suoh's eyes widened in a moment of stunned surprise, thinking he'd misheard.
He'd imagined the Shinoreijutsuin would have all kinds of harsh screening conditions—spiritual pressure level tests, written exams, interviews, physical assessments, various combinations of requirements.
He never expected it would be this simple and direct.
"No wait... being able to walk alive to the gates..."
Very quickly, he understood the logic.
"Already means passing the first screening."
Such simple enrollment requirements. This crude and direct screening method revealed from another angle just how cruel the Soul Society truly was.
"Hehe, it's been this way since the day I first learned about it. Never changed."
Terada-san saw this expression on Suoh's face for the first time and found it rather endearing. She covered her mouth as she laughed softly.
"Until then, you'd better work hard at Terada-ya for me!"
"Time's about up. Hurry to the kitchen and start preparations."
Sensing their casual chat had gone on long enough, Terada-san shifted topics with a wave of her hand, dismissing him to work.
"Yes!"
"Thank you very much, truly."
Suoh's spirits lifted as he stood and responded, returning to his work station full of energy.
This casual conversation had clearly pointed out the path forward for him.
It was now late May. The countdown to entering the Shinoreijutsuin was exactly ten months.
Early morning, Terada-ya back courtyard.
Dew from the night clung to the branches and leaves of an old tree in the corner of the yard. Each droplet reflected the soft light of dawn that was neither fully arrived nor completely gone.
Creak—
Gently pushing open the sliding door, Suoh emerged into the back courtyard wearing a white short-sleeved training top and carrying his white ash wood sword.
His breath condensed into faint white mist in the cool air. His appearance broke the tranquil stillness.
In addition to nighttime spiritual power training, now that he had proper training equipment, Suoh was ready to officially begin his plan to grow stronger.
As for why he hadn't started from the second day's morning—when he'd woken up, he'd been truly starving. The two meals from the first afternoon and evening had only barely lined his stomach.
Now that he'd obtained Terada-san's permission to use ingredients freely and cook whenever needed, he'd officially switched from three meals a day to five.
His strengthening plan was simple. His mind held many potential models for martial training he could learn from.
From among them, he'd selected an extremely suitable figure to emulate—Isaac Netero, the Hunter Association chairman from Hunter x Hunter. A powerful man who'd spent his life pursuing martial perfection. He'd once trained in the mountains performing ten thousand grateful striking punches daily, pursuing the ultimate limits of both body and spirit—a true grandmaster of martial arts.
Actually, Saitama-sensei's path to godhood from One Punch Man would've been pretty good too. It didn't require much space or specific locations. But Suoh didn't want to go bald, even if the chance was only one in a hundred million.
The Hunter Association chairman's philosophy of "strike ten thousand times, and understanding comes naturally"—extreme repetitive accumulation, extraordinary willpower and endurance, the precipitation of time and persistence—this suited his current situation with his extended lifespan perfectly.
Suoh gripped his sword and planted his feet firmly on the ground, assuming the basic striking stance.
"Begin!"
When he started swinging, dawn had only just begun painting the sky a deep blue-purple. The sound of the wooden blade cutting through air wove together with morning birdsong.
When the count reached one thousand, his body and spirit entered a state of complete immersion. Every muscle in his body activated like an engine. Every inch of skin seemed to breathe.
When his sword swings broke past three thousand, the last traces of night had been driven away by the pale light at the horizon's edge. The sky brightened completely. The movements in his hands grew increasingly fluid. Man and blade seemed to merge into one.
By five thousand repetitions, the morning sun had leaped above the horizon. Light poured across the earth like molten gold. Sweat had long since soaked through his training clothes. Golden sunlight fell across his body as visible heat radiated from his form.
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