Under the surprised gaze of Aizen and Ukitake, Kaelith Yurei focused intently, his brush strokes steady and composed.
In a short ti, dozens of characters filled an entire page.
Only after he had filled the entire sheet did Kaelith finally stop, examining his work with a sowhat dissatisfied expression.
"It's been too long since I practiced. I'm a bit rusty," he muttered.
Aizen, however, didn't pay attention to Kaelith's self-critique. At that mont, he was utterly astonished.
Kaelith's calligraphy was entirely in Chinese characters—no hiragana or katakana in sight.
While he didn't fully understand the content, he could tell that Kaelith's work surpassed that of any calligraphy master he had encountered.
Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed that such remarkable calligraphy could co from Kaelith.
"Kaelith, is this the calligraphy style from your holand?" Aizen couldn't help but ask curiously.
Kaelith looked at him strangely. "Aren't you a calligraphy enthusiast? Haven't you seen beginner Yan-style works, like the Duobao Pagoda stele?"
Instinctively, Aizen glanced at Ukitake, but Ukitake seed just as bewildered.
Seeing their reactions, Kaelith suddenly realized. The world of the Soul Reapers, although similar to Earth, wasn't actually the sa.
The historical evolution of this world might be completely different from the one he knew.
Realizing this, Kaelith felt a pang of complexity.
Before crossing into this world, his elders had demanded he study calligraphy as a child. Practicing Yan, Ou, Liu, Zhao styles, along with various other calligraphy collections and exams, had been a childhood nightmare.
Now, upon discovering that the world he was in might lack these traditions, he felt a bit of loss.
Suddenly, he felt a light hand on his shoulder.
Looking up, he saw Ukitake gazing at him with a concerned expression.
"Kaelith, are you alright?"
Kaelith blinked.
Seeing him like this, Aizen thought for a mont and said, "In calligraphy, you are far superior to ."
He wasn't sure why Kaelith seed down, but from what he knew about him, a bit of praise always worked in monts like these.
As expected, Kaelith chuckled at Aizen's words. "Of course! You have no idea how talented I am."
In the past, Aizen might have taken it as a joke, but lately, Kaelith had surprised him ti and ti again. Perhaps this guy truly possessed a hidden depth that he seldom showed.
At this thought, Aizen's expression twitched slightly. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't picture Kaelith as "low-key."
Seeing that Kaelith was alright, Ukitake decisively requested the calligraphy piece. Kaelith didn't mind—after all, he hadn't put much effort into it, nowhere near the level he would have submitted for a prestigious calligraphy award.
Seeing Aizen remain silent, Kaelith gave a sly grin.
"What's wrong, Sōsuke? Are you so awestruck by my strength that you're left speechless?"
He expected a rebuttal, but Aizen, with a complex expression, was silent for a few seconds before actually nodding.
"Yes, indeed. I am quite shocked."
Previously, Kaelith's spiritual pressure, talent, and learning capabilities had already reshaped Aizen's understanding, but today's display had an even greater impact.
Under Kaelith's surprised gaze, Aizen seed to reach a decision. He set down his brush and bowed to Kaelith.
"Kaelith, in my free ti, please teach the art of calligraphy."
Kaelith blinked, feeling as though the situation was surreal. He had flaunted his strength countless tis in front of Aizen, with little effect. But now, a casual display seed to trigger such a reaction.
He'd won, but it sohow felt like a loss…
In the following days, Kaelith saw firsthand the fervor around his calligraphy.
Kinoshita ca to his dormitory, full of excitent. The normally strict teacher disregarded all decorum, clasping Kaelith's hands and begging for a piece of calligraphy.
Seinosuke Yamada even set aside his dical studies to request a piece as well.
The next afternoon, Shunsui Kyōraku sneaked into the school, asking Kaelith to write sothing for him.
Even Unohana Retsu invited him to a private tea gathering, requesting a piece to add to the Fourth Division's collection.
As Kaelith wandered through the streets of the Seireitei, he fell into deep thought. These Soul Reapers—neglecting swordsmanship in favor of these refined pursuits.
No wonder, when the Thousand-Year Blood War ca, the Quincies overpowered them.
They were falling into decadence!
Thankfully, unlike these superficial folks, Captain-Commander Yamamoto still maintained a sense of discipline. Even though Kaelith's calligraphy had gained popularity in the Seireitei, Yamamoto had never ntioned it.
…
"Apologies, Captain-Commander, I'm late!"
Kaelith opened the door to the First Division's dojo to see Yamamoto standing in the center, his back turned.
"Apologies, Captain-Commander. I was up late practicing swordsmanship."
In truth, he hadn't been practicing at all. Last night, Aizen had once again slipped away in the middle of the night.
Curious about his destination, Kaelith spent most of the night tracking Aizen with Kido, following him to what he believed was Aizen's hideout in Rukongai's 74th district.
From what he could tell, Aizen's base was in the desolate 70-80th districts, places devoid of life where only starvation lingered. It was no surprise he chose such a location.
After spying the whole night, he had barely slept when Yamamoto summoned him for class, resulting in his slight tardiness.
Yamamoto rely nodded, showing no sign of displeasure. Kaelith, however, noticed a table set up in the dojo. A bad feeling crept over him.
Sure enough, under his skeptical gaze, Yamamoto turned around.
"I heard you've been studying calligraphy for a long ti. Before class, let evaluate your skills."
"I've prepared the brush and paper," he added with a slight cough.
Kaelith was speechless.
Retracting his earlier thoughts, Kaelith realized the Seireitei was beyond saving.
With Yamamoto's watchful gaze, Kaelith picked up the brush and began to write.
'The human condition, bound by monts…'
What he wrote was an excerpt from *The Preface to the Poems Collected from the Orchid Pavilion*, fad as the "world's finest cursive script."
He only wrote a reflective passage, omitting the introductory narrative.
That way, even if Yamamoto could read Chinese, he wouldn't notice anything unusual.
Since he had written it countless tis, his hand moved almost on its own, creating each stroke without conscious effort.
The sooner he finished, the sooner they could start training.
Yamamoto's expression shifted from surprise to delight as he observed Kaelith's writing. He hadn't expected his unusual student to possess such skill.
Simply watching the strokes filled him with a rare excitent.
Seireitei had been rife with troubling events in recent years, and it had been a long ti since he'd felt this uplifted.
Seeing Yamamoto's reaction, Kaelith paused, surprised, as he began to take his writing more seriously.
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T/n I hope you enjoyed your extra chapters!
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