Naruto: This Genius is Somewhat Ordinary-Chapter 415

The Shin’ō Academy cafeteria looked... normal.

Too normal.

Fujimoto Tōma stared at the food tray in front of him, brow slightly furrowed.

Rice.

Soup.

Grilled fish.

Even dorayaki.

It looked exactly like real-world food.

Which raised a problem.

"These are definitely not physical meals," he muttered.

He could feel it. Every bite was made of condensed spiritual energy.

So then the question became—

If he could directly absorb spiritual energy from the air...

Why was he still hungry?

He paused mid-thought.

"...Oh. Right."

The energy he’d absorbed so far was still being used to stabilize and strengthen his soul. Hunger simply wasn’t a priority in the internal resource queue yet.

Meaning...

He could eat and absorb energy at the same time.

Tōma bit into the dorayaki.

His eyes lit up.

"...Same taste."

Perfectly reproduced.

"So even reishi-based food can mimic flavor down to memory-level detail."

He chewed thoughtfully.

Then glanced at Renji.

"So... do souls ever starve to death here?"

Renji froze.

Rukia went quiet.

"...Did I say something illegal?" Tōma asked mildly.

Kira Izuru sighed.

"You really did just arrive, didn’t you?"

Tōma nodded.

"People in the outer districts starve all the time," Kira said quietly. "I had friends who died that way."

Renji clenched his jaw and nodded once.

Rukia lowered her eyes.

"...Sorry," Tōma said sincerely.

So that’s how it worked.

Those with talent unconsciously absorbed spiritual energy from the environment.

Those without it... didn’t.

Which meant hunger killed the powerless first.

He glanced at Renji’s build.

Muscular. Solid.

Not someone who’d hoarded food while friends starved.

So Renji and Rukia must’ve both had enough talent to survive on ambient energy.

Meaning...

Food mattered.

Just not equally.

"...So dirt and food aren’t interchangeable after all," Tōma muttered.

Which meant food wasn’t just reishi density. Something about its structure made it easier to convert into usable energy.

Interesting.

He experimentally circulated the spiritual energy he’d absorbed and redirected it into the same "hunger" channel.

The empty feeling vanished.

"...Confirmed."

So food was optional for Shinigami-tier souls.

But still useful.

Very useful.

Which led to a dangerous conclusion.

He started eating faster.

When he finally looked up again...

Renji, Rukia, and Kira were staring at him.

There were empty plates stacked like a small shrine beside him.

"...You know it’s free, not infinite, right?" Renji said carefully.

"I digest efficiently," Tōma replied. "...I’m done. Probably."

He shoveled the last dorayaki into his mouth and stood up, face faintly red.

Their first class was an orientation lecture.

And distribution day.

Specifically—

Asauchi.

The blank Zanpakutō.

The classroom buzzed with excitement.

Renji was vibrating in his seat.

Tōma stayed quiet.

The instructor stepped up and held out a plain katana.

"This is an Asauchi," he said. "It will be your weapon and your partner. You will live with it. Train with it. Speak to it."

"When you learn its true name, you will achieve Shikai."

He drew his own sword.

"Awaken, Tsurara."

The blade reshaped itself into a flexible steel staff.

The room exploded with gasps.

"So that’s Shikai..."

The instructor nodded.

"Each Zanpakutō reflects the wielder’s soul. Its form and power are shaped by your nature."

Renji’s eyes were burning.

Tōma’s expression turned thoughtful.

Reflects the soul...

So basically a spiritual personality test with lethal consequences.

He subconsciously pictured his old black blade from the shinobi world.

Straight.

Long.

Unadorned.

"...Yeah. That tracks."

"And above Shikai?" Renji blurted out.

The instructor sighed.

"Bankai exists. But don’t get ambitious. Even mastering Shikai puts you above most Shinigami."

"How do you get Bankai?" Renji pressed.

"I don’t know," the instructor admitted. "If I did, I wouldn’t be teaching here."

That shut everyone up.

Then came the distribution.

One by one, students stepped forward and received identical Asauchi.

When it was Tōma’s turn, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around the hilt.

The moment he touched it—

Something looked back at him.

Not eyes.

Not words.

Intent.

Recognition.

Cold.

Curious.

"...Interesting," Tōma thought.

"Student?" the instructor asked.

"Sorry. Got distracted."

He took the sword and stepped away.

His expression stayed calm.

But his instincts were wide awake.

That sensation hadn’t come from the teacher.

It had come from inside the blade.

"So you’re already awake," he thought.

The Asauchi trembled almost imperceptibly.

Tōma smiled faintly.

"...Yeah. Shikai won’t take long."

He slid the sword into his sash and followed Renji, Rukia, and Kira to their next class.

But his hand never left the hilt.

...

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