Chapter 29: Library Card
Suoh's gaze slid across row after row of texts on swordsmanship.
He passed over general books, finally settling on several relatively famous school classics.
"Secret Scrolls of Katori Shinto-ryu Sword Theory," "Kashima Shinto-ryu Blade Techniques Explained," "Niten Ichi-ryu Way of Strategy Guide."
"My current kendo level is only barely adequate. Taking a few references will be enough for now."
He selected several texts whose philosophies could complement and reference the style he currently imitated.
Kendo was the art of killing. To advance further still required sparring and real combat. Solo practice only went so far.
"As for hakuda, its core meaning lies more in strengthening the body, tempering muscles and bones, and serving as a last resort after losing other means."
"Aside from Yamamoto Genryuusai Shigekuni, Shihouin Yoruichi, and Soi Fon, not many people use it. Without a master teaching, it's easy to learn but hard to perfect."
His gaze then turned toward the nearby hakuda section. He only glanced at it, shook his head, and didn't delve deeper.
"Right now, among the four Shinigami combat arts, what can most quickly improve combat capability are kidou and shunpo."
His gaze swept across the other two rows. Suoh's purpose was very clear.
Before successfully achieving shikai with one's zanpakutou, a Shinigami's direct combat methods were downright impoverished.
Unless spiritual pressure strength completely overwhelmed the opponent, Shinigami often found themselves at a disadvantage when facing Hollows.
Body type, strength, recovery ability—these factors critically important in close-range blade combat, Hollows held almost comprehensive advantages in all of them.
Even if a Shinigami relied on speed to inflict effective wounds on a Hollow through zanjutsu in close combat, they couldn't necessarily finish the opponent in one go.
The ferocious counterattack stemming from the Hollow's biological instincts and fearlessness of death often left Shinigami who'd landed a hit but couldn't instantly withdraw in immediately dangerous positions.
Among the four combat arts, currently the most effective killing method was kidou.
Shunpo was the key to ensuring one remained invincible.
"Kidou Incantation Techniques," "Complete Explanation of Kidou Spells," "Advanced Shunpo Techniques"...
Tucking the selected books in the crook of his arm, he walked to a long desk with good lighting and sat down.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting warm light across the opened pages.
Relying on his exceptional memory, Suoh soon absorbed the essential philosophical insights from several kendo texts into his mind.
"Ise Nanao..."
"Hinamori Momo..."
But when he opened "Kidou Incantation Techniques," the library card tucked beside the pages immediately caught his attention.
On the library card, he saw two extremely familiar names.
The two's handwriting—one rigorous and neat, one delicate and gentle—each had its own unique style.
In the original story, both were among the new generation of vice-captains who could be counted as kidou masters. Their names appearing on this book's library card was unsurprising.
However, that wasn't the most crucial point. The return dates on the library card held great significance for him.
"Mm, let's try looking around."
Closing the book in his hands, Suoh stood and walked toward the literature and clerical books section he'd passed earlier.
"Just as I thought."
After leafing through books for over ten minutes, Suoh finally verified his suspicions and obtained the answer he wanted.
As he deliberately examined these books' borrowing records, he discovered an interesting detail.
Both girls favored romantic works with high literary value.
Whether poetry, prose, or novels, their names frequently appeared close together on library cards.
No wonder they later became book club friends—their reading tastes were remarkably consistent.
But starting from a certain day three years ago, Hinamori Momo's signature began frequently appearing on library cards for clerical-related books.
Clerical texts were dry and full of practical matters. Such a sudden shift in reading preference formed a stark contrast with her previous interests.
"The fate of a follower is to retrace the path their deity walked."
Suoh closed the "Detailed Explanation of Clerical Standards" in his hands, a gleam of understanding flashing through his eyes.
Without doubt—
That man who'd earned the beautiful epithet "Dragon of Documentation" through meticulous thinking and impeccable clerical ability, Aizen Sosuke, had already successfully claimed his most faithful devotee.
"Poor Toshiro."
"That girl Hinamori Momo is beyond saving."
Gently pushing the book back to its original position, he sighed inwardly.
Three years to make a literary girl full of romantic fantasies wholeheartedly throw herself into studying dry, tedious clerical work.
The significance that represented naturally needed no further explanation.
Let go of the savior complex, respect others' fates. Some people truly were too difficult to save, and didn't want anyone to save them either.
"This trip was truly worthwhile."
This library visit yielded abundant rewards—not only acquiring more knowledge, but the timeline had also become much clearer.
Three years ago during World of the Living konso training, Hinamori Momo had been saved by Aizen, developing worship toward him.
Which meant that around next year, Rukia Kuchiki from the same class would be adopted by the Kuchiki family and soon arranged to enter the Thirteenth Division.
Silently noting this key point, Suoh smiled with satisfaction.
Dong—
The bell rang melodiously, penetrating the corridors to reach the library, also announcing the end of morning classes.
"With matters as they stand, let's eat first."
The timeline's outline was now clear. The worries in his heart had lessened somewhat.
When a person relaxed, their body's perception became more acute. The feeling of an empty stomach surged up right on cue.
Suoh returned the finished kendo books to their original positions, organized the other books he hadn't yet read, and came to the administration desk.
The stack of books in his arms landed gently on the counter with a steady sound.
"Hello, I'd like to borrow these."
"Certainly. Just fill out the library cards beside each book's pages along with the borrowing register and give them to me."
Behind the wooden counter, the administrator was still busy organizing catalogs. After seeing clearly who approached, she lightly adjusted her glasses and replied with a smile.
She then retrieved a thick borrowing register from behind the counter and passed it over.
Accepting the register, Suoh did as instructed, removing each book's library card.
Picking up the brush at the counter's edge and dipping it lightly in ink, he smoothly wrote his name, the date, and book titles on both the library cards and register.
The administrator accepted the completed library cards and register, carefully verifying the information.
"The return date is one month from now. Please don't forget."
After confirming everything was in order, the administrator retrieved a brass stamp and pressed it into the register, collected the library cards into a side compartment, and finally offered a gentle reminder.
"Understood. Goodbye."
Bidding farewell to the administrator, Suoh held the books with one arm and followed the path he'd come, heading toward the dining hall.
"Such beautiful handwriting."
Shortly after Suoh left, the administrator retrieved the borrowing register again and flipped to the newest page to admire it carefully.
The characters on the paper were vigorous and upright, the structure open and balanced. At each stroke's turning point was an unhurried force.
The writing reflected the person—beneath a gentle, steady exterior lay the sharp edge of youthful spirit.
"Such a shame the president has been too busy these years and rarely comes to teach at the academy anymore."
"Otherwise they'd certainly be delighted."
As a member of the Shinigami Calligraphy Association, Suoh's penmanship was among the rare few she'd seen that could compare with the president's.
She murmured softly, her tone carrying a trace of barely perceptible regret.
***
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