Shin’ō Academy, the training grounds, one week later.
Gengoro Ounahara stood at the front, sweeping his gaze over the students below, his expression stern as he spoke.
“Over the past few days, I’ve gone over the rules of the Seireitei and the duties of a Shinigami with all of you.
Starting today, up until next month’s exam, we’ll focus on teaching you how a Shinigami fights, both against Hollows and against enemies.” There was something interesting in how he’d phrased it, splitting “Hollows” and “enemies” into two separate categories.
A few of the sharper students caught the implication right away.
Kira Izuru muttered under his breath, “Aren’t Hollows the only enemies a Shinigami has?” Renji Abarai scratched his head.
“Don’t tell me the thugs back in the Rukongai count as enemies too?” Momo Hinamori chimed in.
“What kind of enemy isn’t a Hollow, then?” The murmuring grew louder and louder among the students, but Ounahara didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping it.
Just then, Rukia turned to Moriyasu and asked, “Do you know who the teacher means by ‘enemies’?” Moriyasu answered flatly.
“So none of you were actually listening in class the past few days, huh?” Several of them turned their heads toward him at once, confusion written across their faces.
Hadn’t the lessons over the past few days all just talked about Hollows when they said “enemy”?
A Shinigami’s most important duty, as they understood it, was to maintain balance across the three worlds, to guide lost, dead souls in the living world, and to pass judgment on fallen souls, meaning Hollows.
So logically, the only thing they’d ever fight should be Hollows.
Moriyasu glanced at the others and spoke.
“A Shinigami’s first duty is protecting the Soul King and protecting the Seireitei.
So anything, or anyone, that threatens the Seireitei is our enemy.” “Exactly right!” Ounahara barked out suddenly.
“Three days ago, I told you all quite clearly: a Shinigami’s highest duty is to protect the Soul King and protect the Seireitei.
So whether it’s Hollows or something else entirely, anything that poses a threat to the Seireitei is a Shinigami’s enemy.” Ounahara looked at Moriyasu with a flicker of genuine admiration, thinking to himself: this new student, who never looked like he was paying much attention in class, had turned out to be the only one who’d actually grasped the heart of the lesson.
Such a shame his natural spiritual power rank was so low, a measly nineteen.
His future prospects wouldn’t amount to much.
Still, his thinking was sharp.
If he could work his way up to around rank fifteen before graduation, Ounahara would recommend him for a low-ranking seated officer position.
The pay difference between a seated officer and a rank-and-file Shinigami was substantial, after all.
At a mere rank nineteen, though, reaching a seated position was simply out of the question.
All things considered, Ounahara had genuinely taken a liking to Moriyasu Tokoyo.
He cleared his throat and continued.
“There are four basic ways a Shinigami fights.” He held up four fingers, folding one down each time he named a technique.
“Kidō, Zanjutsu, Shunpo, and Hakuda.
Together, they’re known as a Shinigami’s four combat arts.” “We’ll start with Kidō, since I happen to have some skill in that area myself.” “Hakuda, Shunpo, and Zanjutsu will be taught by other instructors.” Moriyasu found that a little unexpected.
Normally, the four arts were named in the order sword, fist, spirit, then step, Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Kidō, then Shunpo.
But the teacher had put Kidō first, apparently just a matter of personal preference.
Ounahara paused for a moment, then went on with his explanation.
“Kidō is one way of putting your spiritual power to use.
It lets that power take on all kinds of different forms.
Among the students here, some of you have spiritual power ranks as high as eleven, and some as low as nineteen.” No sooner had he said it than the students’ eyes turned toward Rukia and Moriyasu Tokoyo.
Rukia had the highest spiritual power rank in the class, in the entire year, actually, while Moriyasu Tokoyo had the lowest.
Ounahara clapped his hands together a couple of times to pull everyone’s attention back, then continued.
“But so long as the gap between your ranks stays below ten, the difference between you isn’t yet something to despair over.
As for what a truly hopeless gap looks like, well, after what Captain Aizen’s reiatsu put you through on your first day, you should all have a pretty clear idea.
In any case, having spiritual power and not being able to actually use it means nothing at all.
Now, let me teach you a Kidō spell from the Destruction branch.” As he spoke, he turned to face a row of targets set up at the far end of the training grounds, raised his right index finger, pointed it at the center target, and recited quietly: “Silent fangs that tear the sky asunder, the raging breath that coils through the air, gather now at my fingertip, and pierce all things.” “Hadō #1: Shō.” A sharp crack rang out, and a burst of pure force shot out from his fingertip, forming a concussive blast of air.
It slammed into the target, sending the one twenty meters away flying instantly, splintering apart in a spray of wood shards.
Once it was done, he turned back to the students and clapped his hands.
“Alright.
Now it’s your turn.” “Huh?
That’s it?” Renji Abarai’s eyes went wide.
He had no idea what had just happened, let alone how anyone was supposed to actually use Kidō.
But by then, Ounahara had already walked off, leaving all the students standing there on the training grounds.
The students exchanged blank looks.
Most of them, like Renji, hadn’t managed to pick up a single clue from watching the teacher’s Kidō.
Momo Hinamori stepped up first, planting herself twenty meters in front of the nearest target.
She raised her finger and recited loudly: “Silent fangs that tear the sky asunder, the raging breath that coils through the air, gather now at my fingertip, and pierce all things.” “Hadō #1: Shō.” But nothing happened at all, not the slightest reaction.
Unwilling to give up, she tried again.
“Hadō #1: Shō!” Still, nothing.
Renji stood off to the side, hands on his hips.
“I told you, that teacher didn’t actually teach us anything.” Kira Izuru stood nearby too, brow furrowed, head tilted slightly down, lost in some thought of his own.
Rukia stepped up next to Momo, taking her place, and turned her eyes to the second target.
She raised her right hand’s finger, closed her eyes, and after a long pause finally spoke.
“Silent fangs that tear the sky asunder, the raging breath that coils through the air, gather now at my fingertip, and pierce all things.” “Hadō #1: Shō.” A soft crack sounded, and a small ring of pressure burst from her fingertip.
It wasn’t much of a range, barely enough to stir a few strands of Momo’s long black hair beside her, let alone reach a target twenty meters away.
But unlike Momo, who’d gotten no reaction whatsoever, something had genuinely taken shape at Rukia’s fingertip.
“Rukia, that’s amazing, how’d you do that?” Renji shouted, rushing over to her side, practically bursting with excitement.
“Teach me, quick.” Rukia didn’t hold back.
She turned to face the rest of the class and explained.
“Didn’t the teacher say it himself?
Kidō is a way of applying spiritual power.
So I tried gathering my spiritual power at my fingertip.” She looked down at her own index finger, brow knitting deeply.
“But whatever I just did definitely wasn’t right.
I don’t know where I went wrong.” Moriyasu Tokoyo stepped up beside Rukia and took his place.
He raised his finger calmly and recited quickly.
“Silent fangs that tear the sky asunder, the raging breath that coils through the air, gather now at my fingertip, and pierce all things.” “Hadō #1: Shō.” A crack sounded, about the same as Rukia’s had been, but a moment later came a second, sharper snap.
Everyone turned to look in surprise, and found a faint mark on the target.
Moriyasu Tokoyo had clearly just pulled off Kidō successfully.
It just hadn’t done anywhere near the damage the teacher’s had, probably owing to his limited spiritual power.
But he had genuinely succeeded.