"So, what exactly are you planning to do with this little bell?"
After giving Kisaragi Akira a casual scare, Aizome pulled out the bell he had handed over earlier.
The bell no longer resembled the old bronze piece it had been.Ink-black markings—branch-like lines—twined across its surface, converging at the center to form a single jet-black eye.
Seeing Aizome return to his usual serious tone, Akira cleared his throat and continued the conversation:
"Obviously, I'm giving it back to Shiromachi Souya."
"Why would I keep it with me? It's not like resurrection is on the table. That guy's been dead for, what, a few dozen… maybe a hundred years? Even if it's the Spirit King…"
"Well… He could probably do it."
Akira suddenly remembered—the deity enshrined in the Reverse-Bone Shrine shared the same origin as the Spirit King.
"When Shiromachi Souya's people arrive, I'll just hand it to them and let them take care of it," he said, waving dismissively.
Aizome nodded, offering no further objections.
The power maintaining the deceased's state within the bell came from the local shrine deep in the Reverse-Bone District.With his current knowledge and ability, Aizome couldn't yet break down the nature of that power.
But based on what he had observed, he suspected it was intimately connected to the Spirit King's world-shaping abilities.
The Spirit King… what a distant name.
Textbooks mentioned him constantly—the sovereign whose overwhelming power, assisted by the Five Great Noble Houses, created the Soul Society, the Human World, and the Hollow Realm.
According to records, after forging the three realms, the Spirit King retreated to the Spirit Palace, where He silently watched over their development.
But—
Ever since meeting this troublemaker, Kisaragi Akira, Aizome had started doubting that version of history.
According to Akira, the one-eyed deity worshipped in the Reverse-Bone Shrine was actually the Spirit King's severed right arm—known as Mimihagi.
If the Spirit King was truly so lofty and untouchable…why would His limb end up in a tiny district shrine in the outer slums?
Was there some hidden truth buried beneath the myths?
Was the Spirit King truly… above everything?
Aizome looked up at the sky.A cool breeze brushed past, clearing the mind.A slender crescent moon hung behind drifting clouds, glowing faintly in the haze.
The next few days returned to calm for Kisaragi Akira.
He moved like an unbroken wild horse, sprinting all across the Spiritual Arts Academy.
Normal students followed a three-point routine:
Dorm → Cafeteria → Classroom.
Akira, meanwhile, wove a tapestry of dozens of points—if a place could have people, he appeared there.If a place couldn't have people, he found a way to make it possible.
All because the abandoned Shin'ō Execution Grounds had failed to trigger a location-sign-in.
The more he thought about it, the more he felt he had lost out.It felt like losing several hundred million yen in one go.
Sure, the Shiromachi family's fortune helped fill the gap,but Akira was haunted by the painful truth:not gaining something still counted as a loss.
So—
He began hunting for every possible sign-in point the Academy might contain.
The odds were slim, but better than nothing.
Unfortunately, the only thing responding to him was his daily sign-in:
Rock sugar candy.Tea eggs.A personal beard-comb belonging to Yamamoto Shigekuni.A calligraphy piece…
The first two were acceptable. At least they tasted decent.
But what on earth was he supposed to do with a beard comb?He was still a teenager!
The calligraphy piece was even worse.When he received it, he froze—the handwriting felt strangely familiar.
Comparing it with his homework notebook, he determined without a doubt:
It was Aizome's handwriting.
Akira nearly exploded.
Did he look like he lacked Aizome's calligraphy pieces?!All he needed were generous servings of tofu dishes and he could exploit the guy into doing all his assignments with pure craftsmanship.
Even capitalists could learn a thing or two from him.
On the third day after the Execution Grounds ritual—
The person Shiromachi Souya mentioned finally arrived at the Academy.
A familiar face.
The Kuchiki family's butler—
Ginguchi Jirō!
"Why is it you again?!"
Akira stared. "Wait—don't tell me this is what they call 'one meal, two servings'?!"
Before Akira even finished the sentence, Ginguchi Jirō felt his blood pressure spike—dangerously close to surpassing his spiritual pressure.
This brat's mouth was getting worse each time.
At their last meeting, the kid at least pretended to be polite.Now he was just openly mocking him!
He really didn't see people as people, huh?!
"Captain Shiromachi sent me," Ginguchi managed to say, forcibly pushing down his irritation.
"Regarding the transfer of the Shiromachi estate—please sign here.I'll handle everything else."
Akira didn't suspect a thing and casually signed his name.
To be fair, after constant exposure, his handwriting was starting to resemble Aizome's.At the very least, it no longer looked like he was drawing talismanic scribbles.
Ginguchi's lips twitched when he saw the nearly illegible scrawl.He wanted to ask for a rewrite, but knowing this boy's mouth, he decided it was safer not to.
"Well then, since the transfer is complete, I'll take my leave," Ginguchi said, standing abruptly."As for the Shiromachi residence—because it's been abandoned for many years, please find someone to clean it if you plan to live there."
"The location is District Six, northwest block 6072."
Akira nodded.
It made sense the residence had been left empty.Shiromachi Souya had no desire to face those memories,and the nobles he terrified wouldn't dare lay a finger on the property.
Now everything had fallen into Akira's lap—a rare case of good fortune returning to a good person.
After handing the bell to Ginguchi, the butler hurried away.
Akira sighed at the sight.
Such a dedicated, hardworking man…and he didn't even stay for a cup of tea.
A pity—he had been planning to serve the guy the only low-grade tea leaves he'd ever received from sign-ins.
"Time for class."
Sitting at his desk, Aizome suddenly closed his book.
"Next up is Kidō class. Same instructor as always—Mr. Kagibayashi Tessai."
"He's probably the least likely teacher to get sick."
Akira nodded in wholehearted agreement.
With his bull-like physique, Kagibayashi could probably punch a Gillian to death.Kidō almost felt redundant for someone like him.
It was also worth noting that Akira's stat sheet had reached a very lopsided state:
[Name: Kisaragi Akira][Identity: Priest of the Reverse-Bone Shrine / District Citizen / First-Year Student at Shin'ō Spiritual Arts Academy][Spiritual Pressure: Lv52][Swordsmanship: Lv64][Hand-to-Hand: Lv22][Shunpo: Lv21][Kidō: Lv24][Special Traits: Reishi Affinity, Danger Instinct, Heart of a God, Healing Hands, Feather-Light Step, Mercy of the Deathblade, Kidō Specialist]
His spiritual pressure had skyrocketed to the eleventh class.His swordsmanship reached Lv64.With Mercy of the Deathblade, he could probably trade blows with some captains—well, those ranked sixth or lower.
His hand-to-hand, shunpo, and kidō, on the other hand, looked downright miserable.
Compared to his peers he was a genius, sure—but he had a monster of a genius standing right beside him.
Despite his considerable improvement, Akira dared not slack off.He feared being left so far behind he couldn't even see Aizome's dust.
Thankfully, Sousuke was not the petty type.
Just a few days ago, he had even prepared a method for Akira to grow stronger quickly.
And apparently…
It had a little something to do with today's Kidō class.