Bleach: The Fifth Division Captain

"Typically, the academy organizes a formal lending ceremony for first-year students about six months after admission. As the name implies, these swords are merely on loan under the academy's name," Aizen explained calmly, leading the way through the academy's high-level training district.

"They're eventually reclaimed," he continued, "which makes perfect sense. After all, students are still immature, both physically and mentally. Carrying lethal weapons in school can encourage recklessness and unnecessary conflict. To prevent that possibility, the academy prohibits students from bearing swords on campus."

That makes sense, Seiya thought. He had wondered about this before, but hearing Aizen explain it shed new light on the logic behind the rule.

"For the ordinary masses," Aizen went on, "receiving a Asauchi early or late makes little difference. To fuse their souls with the blade and awaken their Zanpakuto's name is a long, arduous process requiring immense effort."

From a managerial perspective, limiting access minimized risk and resources—a perfectly rational approach.

"Of course," Aizen added, a knowing smile tugging at his lips, "for every ordinary individual, there exists a rare genius. Those truly gifted can bypass these rules and begin forging a connection with the blade earlier. As long as they have a guarantor, students may receive their Asauchi ahead of schedule, beginning the soul fusion process sooner.

"In fact, it's not uncommon for talented students to call forth their Zanpakuto's name while still enrolled in the academy."

Then, with a calm, measured tone, Aizen looked at Seiya.

"I believe you can do it as well, Seiya-kun."

Guh…

It was a compliment—one that should have filled Seiya with pride. Instead, it weighed on him like a stone.

Being trusted by Aizen feels great… but it's also terrifying.

Desperate to shift the subject, Seiya cleared his throat and asked, "By the way, Aizen-sensei… what's the difference between an Asauchi and a Zanpakuto?"

Aizen paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully, as though choosing the simplest way to explain something fundamental.

"An Asauchi and a Zanpakuto are essentially the same thing," he began.

"The former is simply the Zanpakuto's unawakened state. When the blade is released—when it gains a name—that's when it becomes a true Zanpakuto.

"Put simply, the difference lies in whether or not the weapon possesses an identity."

I see, Seiya thought, his curiosity satisfied. He hadn't given much thought to this distinction before.

Aizen continued, his voice smooth and encouraging.

"The process of soul fusion varies. Some take months, even years, while others find the answer almost immediately. No matter how long it takes, those with true talent will hear their blade's voice sooner or later.

"Seiya-kun, take heart. The Zanpakuto that awaits you—etched with your name, infused with your soul—will be a precious creation, unique to you."

The way Aizen described it made Seiya's pulse quicken. The idea of forging a connection with his own blade suddenly filled him with eager anticipation.

"So, was this why you left earlier, Sensei?" Seiya asked, trying to distract himself from his growing excitement.

"More or less," Aizen replied with a cryptic smile. "I had a few other matters to attend to as well."

Seiya hesitated, guilt creeping in. "Thank you, Aizen-sensei… for everything."

Aizen smiled warmly, placing a reassuring hand on Seiya's shoulder.

"It's nothing. As your instructor, this is the least I can do. If you truly feel indebted to me… then grow stronger, Seiya-kun. That would be the greatest reward you could offer me."

Damn it, now I feel even guiltier.

Scratching the back of his head awkwardly, Seiya forced a smile. "I-I'll do my best…"

Aizen led Seiya to the upper-level training wing—a place reserved for advanced students.

Seiya had no right to be here under normal circumstances. If not for Aizen's influence, he wouldn't have gotten past the gate.

They eventually arrived at a solitary, dark building with an odd architectural design.

The thick walls, heavy doors, and pitch-black windows gave it an ominous feel. As they approached, Seiya felt his vision darken slightly, as though the building itself absorbed the surrounding light.

At the reception desk, Aizen spoke quietly with an attendant, who nodded after a brief exchange. Returning to Seiya, Aizen said, "Your identity has been verified. My role ends here. From this point on, it's up to you."

Seiya swallowed hard.

Here we go.

He took a deep breath and bowed respectfully to his mentor.

"Thank you for everything, Sensei."

"Go on," Aizen said simply, waving him forward.

As Seiya turned to leave, Aizen's voice rang out again.

"Oh, and Seiya-kun—if you find yourself lost or uncertain… try letting go of thought and trusting your instincts."

The advice seemed vague, but Seiya nodded firmly. If Aizen said it, there had to be some merit to it.

Following a guide, Seiya arrived at a large, steel-reinforced door.

"Inside is the Asauchi chamber," the guide explained gruffly. "Normally, students receive their blades at random during the ceremony. But since you have a guarantor, you're an exception."

The guide retrieved a heavy keyring and unlocked the door, the mechanism groaning as the massive lock disengaged.

The door swung open with a deep thud, revealing a dark, cavernous space beyond.

"Go ahead," the guide said. "Thanks to your guarantor, you have the right to choose."

Seiya stepped inside.

The Asauchi chamber was vast, its curved walls forming a massive, circular vault.

The lack of lighting didn't matter. The blades themselves provided illumination.

Rows upon rows of identical swords—lined up like soldiers—reflected the faintest light, their polished edges gleaming eerily.

It was like walking into a forest of steel.

The uniformity of the swords made them seem less like weapons and more like… eyes. Blank, unblinking eyes, all staring directly at him.

Are they… watching me?

A chill ran down Seiya's spine, and his breath grew shallow. The oppressive silence felt suffocating.

Is this… a test?

Seiya's instincts screamed at him that these swords were not lifeless objects. Each blade seemed alive, observing him silently.

The faint rustle of shifting metal filled the room, like whispers in the dark. Seiya's pulse quickened, his nerves stretched taut.

Calm down, he told himself.

Then he remembered Aizen's advice: "Let go of thought. Trust your instincts."

Taking a deep breath, Seiya closed his eyes.

He let his body relax, exhaling slowly as he let go of his conscious thoughts.

Don't choose the blade. Let it choose you.

His right foot stepped forward instinctively, his stance shifting.

Drawing upon his 33 points in swordsmanship—his accumulated experience and skill—Seiya's body moved on its own, fluid and natural.

He raised his left hand, palm up, as though offering something. His right hand hovered above it, two fingers extended.

In the stillness, something shifted.

The whispering stopped.

And for the first time, Seiya felt it—an undeniable pull.

One blade, among thousands, called to him.

When Seiya finally emerged from the chamber, Aizen was waiting.

The man opened his eyes and smiled, his expression unusually pleased.

"So, you've chosen?"

Seiya grinned, stepping forward and proudly lifting the long, sheathed sword at his hip.

The blade's black scabbard gleamed faintly, its leather-wrapped hilt secured by a simple cord.

"It chose me," Seiya said triumphantly.

Aizen shook his head with an indulgent smile.

"Gaining an Asauchi's recognition is commendable, but don't let it go to your head, Seiya-kun."

"Just for a little while, Sensei," Seiya replied with a cheeky grin. "Let me enjoy this moment."

"Very well," Aizen said with a sigh, his tone laced with amusement.

The two walked side by side, leaving the dark chamber behind.

Unbeknownst to them, the guide—having returned to check the room—paused, a puzzled look crossing his face.

Strange… who was I just talking to?

Shaking his head, the man patted his keyring, reassuring himself that everything was in place.

The most "problematic" swords were all accounted for.

"As long as that door's locked tight, there won't be any trouble."

Elsewhere, Aizen led Seiya to a familiar location: the kendo training hall.

As Seiya stood there, confused, Aizen stepped into the sparring area and began untying his robe.

"Change into your training gear, Seiya-kun," Aizen instructed, revealing a fitted black sparring uniform beneath his robes.

"…Uh, what?"

Smiling faintly, Aizen drew his Zanpakuto, its polished blade glinting in the light.

"I thought it might be interesting," he said, his voice calm yet edged with anticipation, "to have a little live-blade sparring session with you."