The Noble District of the Seireitei, the Kuchiki estate.
In the vast courtyard, a fish pond nearly a hundred meters across held plenty of fish, swimming about happily.
The water was so clear the fish looked almost like they were floating in midair.
A sharp crack rang out, ripples spreading across the surface, and the startled fish shot straight for the bottom of the pond.
Not far off, under a cherry blossom tree, Rukia Kuchiki was sparring with the family’s swordsmanship tutor.
Members of the great noble families didn’t attend the academy.
They were taught instead by tutors their own household hired.
This particular tutor held a spiritual power rank of seven, and his swordsmanship was genuinely accomplished, notable even within the Seireitei.
But right now, he stood rooted to the spot, his eyes trembling slightly, watching Rukia Kuchiki, the family’s newest member, and said with real admiration: “Your swordsmanship doesn’t follow any particular school, but your fundamentals are rock solid.
Paired with that fluid Reishi control of yours, it’s genuinely impressive.
No wonder you’re a Kuchiki now.” Rukia stood calmly where she was, both hands on her Zanpakuto, her expression giving away neither pleasure nor displeasure.
Seeing that composure, the tutor nodded even more approvingly.
“That’s exactly the mindset swordsmanship training calls for.
You have to stay calm in a fight, and as a member of the Kuchiki, foremost of the nobility, you especially can’t afford to look flustered or out of control.
Now, let’s continue, Miss Rukia.” At that form of address, Rukia’s brow twitched.
Even after nearly half a month here, she still hadn’t quite gotten used to it.
She gathered Reishi at the soles of her feet, then burst forward the next instant, Shunpo carrying her body to the tutor’s side in a flash.
Both hands tightened around her Zanpakuto, and she swung it in a horizontal cut.
The tutor raised his blade to block, offering his critique.
“Your speed’s quite good, but your angle of attack is naive.
If you can already close to an enemy’s side that fast, you should use that edge to go straight for their legs.
Attacking the lower body would also let you put your strength into it far more naturally.” Before he’d even finished, Rukia let go with her left hand, pointed a finger straight at the tutor’s chest, and called out, “Hadō #4, Byakurai!” A streak of silvery light flashed from her fingertip and struck the tutor’s chest instantly, burning a hole clean through his robe and sending up a curl of white smoke.
Rukia touched down on her toes, retreated at once, and came to a stop roughly ten meters back, eyes fixed steadily on the tutor.
“Miss Rukia Kuchiki, I’m your swordsmanship tutor.
You shouldn’t be using Kidō during a sword lesson.” He gave the burned-through hole in his robe an unbothered pat and shook his head slightly.
“After all, with a spiritual power rank of seven, I don’t even need to defend against a Hadō number four cast at that low a rank.
It wouldn’t so much as break the skin.” “In an actual fight, of course you use every tool available.
Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Kido, Shunpo, isn’t the end goal always the same, taking down the enemy?
So why learn them separately?” Rukia answered, her expression calm.
Back at Shin’ō Academy, the whole group had, under Moriyasu’s guidance, done away entirely with learning any single discipline in isolation, training in Zanjutsu, Hakuda, and Kido side by side instead.
Sure, there’d always be strengths and weaknesses among them, but you could never let a weak point become an absolute liability.
Instead, you made your weaker skills work together with your stronger ones for a better overall result.
Their time at the academy had already proven it: this approach was far stronger than studying swordsmanship or Hakuda in isolation.
The tutor froze for a moment after hearing that, and found he had nothing to say against it.
For a Shinigami, combat was a matter of life and death, not a contest of points scored.
He understood that well enough.
But as the Kuchiki family’s dedicated swordsmanship tutor, he also ran his own dojo in the Noble District, one built around swordsmanship as its core.
He sighed.
“Miss Rukia, honestly, over these past few days of practice, I’ve noticed you don’t seem all that interested in learning any actual sword techniques.
Your fundamentals really are excellent, but I’d still recommend picking up some proper sword techniques.
You could even build your own, combined with your Shunpo, Hakuda, or Kido.
In a fight for your life, having a few more cards up your sleeve never hurts.” Rukia nodded, her expression earnest.
“Yes, sir.
I’ll think about practicing some sword techniques.” She hadn’t actually said she wanted to learn the sword techniques of the tutor’s own school.
As far as she was concerned, this tutor, while genuinely skilled, put nowhere near the pressure on her that Moriyasu did.
If she really wanted to learn sword techniques, she’d rather go to Moriyasu for it than this man in front of her.
A flicker of disappointment crossed the tutor’s face.
He’d genuinely hoped Rukia Kuchiki would join his dojo and take up his school.
She was the sister of Byakuya Kuchiki, clan head himself, and her talent was genuinely excellent.
It probably wouldn’t be long before she broke through to rank five.
Having her join his dojo would draw plenty of nobles in on its own.
“That’ll be all for today’s lesson, then.” The tutor turned, a little forlorn, and walked off toward the estate gate.
Rukia sheathed her sword and let out a heavy breath.
Just then, a maid approached with cool water and a towel, bowing her head slightly and speaking quietly: “Miss Rukia, please mind your manners as a noble and wipe your face.” Rukia picked up the towel, dampened it, and wiped down her face, neck, and arms.
“Miss Rukia, all your favorite dishes have been prepared.” The maid turned and left, carrying the water basin with her.
Honestly, she still wasn’t quite used to being waited on like this, but there wasn’t much to be done about it.
She sighed and headed back to her room, where the table was already spread with a feast.
An elderly woman from the Kuchiki household stood beside it, hands folded in front of her.
“Miss Rukia, when it comes to eating, you need to mind…” Rukia had barely sat down when the old woman’s litany of instructions started up beside her, and she couldn’t help but sit bolt upright.
She picked up a small meatball with her chopsticks, opened her mouth just enough to slip it in, closed it again, and chewed slowly, doing her best not to make a sound.
These were the countless rules of a noble household.
Not a shred of freedom in any of it.
Food that should have tasted wonderful lost all its appeal after just a few bites like this.
She gave up on the fried chicken meatballs entirely and settled for the bland, Reishi-dense food instead.
Once she’d finished, she wiped her mouth and said, “I’m going to the archive.” “Of course, Miss Rukia.
An attendant will show you the way.” Once Rukia had left the room, the old woman stared down at the leftover fried meatballs, roasted chicken leg, and grilled skewers, then whipped her head around and shouted at the maid by the door: “What in the world is today’s cook doing?
Miss Rukia barely touched any of it!
You tell them, if they can’t manage to make something Miss Rukia actually likes next time, every last one of them is out on their ear!” The maid outside hurried to agree and rushed off.
She hurried straight to the kitchen and repeated the old woman’s words, tone and all, word for word, shouting them straight at the cooks.
“Miss Rukia didn’t like it?
That shouldn’t be possible.” The Kuchiki kitchen staff exchanged uneasy glances.
They’d gone to the trouble of studying exactly what she liked to eat at the academy, all to prepare for her arrival.
“Guess our technique just isn’t up to par.
We need to study up!
Let’s head to a tavern in Junrinan later.” “That’s Lady Hisana’s own little sister we’re talking about, Miss Rukia herself.
It’s time to pay off that debt of gratitude, understand?” “Yes, ma’am!”