As we left the training hall, I gave Jushiro a light tap on the shoulder.
“The next class is Hoho.
Think you can make it to the end of the day without a trip to the doctor, Ukitake-san?” I asked, giving him a critical look.
I wasn’t exactly keen on dragging him back to former Captain Chigiri, but I’d help if I had to.
“Don’t underestimate me, Kaoru-san,” he said with a wry smile, trying to hide his shortness of breath.
“I’m holding up just fine.”
“That’s good.
Recuperate while there’s still time,” I nodded, then left him be and headed toward the next training ground.
It wouldn’t do to be too pushy.
Rumors might start circulating that I was cozying up to the nobles s a bit too much.
That was bound to happen eventually, given my intention to worm my way into Jushiro and Shunsui’s future circle, but I’d rather it happen later than right away.
The training ground where we were taken was noticeably different from where the Hakuda lesson took place.
Instead of a standard arena with mats, a spacious underground training ground opened up in front of us.
The floor was smooth stone, ideal for speedy movement, without the slightest hint of ridges or gouges that could interfere with training.
I looked around and quickly analyzed my surroundings.
Along the walls were rows of wooden mannequins with metal plates at the base.
Most likely, to practice sharp dashes and instant stops.
A little further along were tall vertical pillars with small platforms on top.
For training jumping and maintaining balance at speed, apparently.
And at the far end of the hall stretched a long piece of land, covered with shallow sand.
It was probably intended for practicing movements in difficult conditions.
It all looked quite impressive.
Judging by the amount of equipment, the training here was top-notch, and we certainly wouldn’t be allowed to slack off.
To be honest, my skills in this area left much to be desired.
Unlike the sword, which I had never parted with since receiving it, and my innate Fullbring, my fast movement technique was at the level of an ordinary person.
Even the mangled corpses of the Shinigami I had devoured didn’t help aslo.
Perhaps it was because their essence had already all but dissipated.
Or maybe none of them had possessed the Shunpo technique.
The latter seemed highly unlikely.
Trudging all the way to the 40th District without the ability to move instantaneously sounded like a form of exquisite torture.
That journey required, at the very least, immense stamina and high base speed.
I doubt anyone other than Kenpachi Zaraki could have pulled off such a feat.
Though perhaps other captains, along with a few exceptionally gifted lieutenants, might have managed it, had they ever needed to.
Then again, the fact that I had been denied other skills as well pointed toward the first explanation.
I hadn’t given it much thought before, having had no reason to, but it seemed that at this rank of Absorption, the “freshness” of the corpse played a significant role.
Obviously, I had tried to learn Shunpo on my own over the years, and more than once.
I experimented with various methods, but the primary approach remained the simple, old-fashioned path of trial and error.
Sure, I could boost my speed using spiritual energy, but I lacked the ability to execute the technique properly, controlling my balance and the direction of movement.
In any case, the Hero’s Diary didn’t deem my attempts worthy of registering it as a skill.
Clearly, I was no match for a genius like Gin Ichimaru.
Eventually, I simply abandoned the endeavor, focusing instead on training my Fullbring and on basic survival.
When everyone, already taught by the previous lesson, lined up in rows, the teacher appeared in front of us.
She looked exactly as I remembered.
Short, with gray hair pulled back into a tight bun.
Despite her age, her posture remained perfectly straight, and her movements were as light and precise as a young woman’s.
Her eyes held an expression of stern focus.
“My name is Miho Igarashi, and I am your Hoho instructor,” she introduced herself in an even, impassive voice.
“My task is to teach you how to command the space around you, rather than simply settling for survival in combat.”
She slowly swept her gaze over us.
Some students flinched under her intense stare.
“However, let’s make one thing clear right away.
Shunpo is a high-level technique.
Most Shinigami, even those who have graduated from the Academy and joined the Gotei 13, never fully master it.”
The room fell silent.
Clearly, this information came as a surprise to many.
I, too, recalled something to that effect.
Take Hanatarō Yamada, for instance, despite holding the rank of Fourth Seat in the Fourth Division, he seemed content with simply running.
“Many of you likely assume you’ll master Shunpo in just a couple of lessons.
That you’ll be able to cover dozens, or even hundreds, of meters in a single burst of speed, vanishing from your opponent’s sight.
Forget it.”
Miho-sensei stepped forward, clasping her hands behind her back.
“Today, you won’t even come close to learning Shunpo.
First, you must master the fundamentals.
These consist of body control, precision of movement, stability, and the ability to maintain your balance at high speeds.
Only those who successfully complete this training will be able to move on to learning the high-speed movement technique.”
A faint murmur rippled through the hall, and some exchanged disappointed glances.
Clearly, not everyone had expected this turn of events.
“I see someone thinks they already know enough,” Miho-sensei said, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed us.
“Very well.
Which of you has tried using Shunpo?”
Several hands shot up.
Among them, I spotted Kyoraku, as well as a couple of aristocrats, likely from families with a tradition of martial training.
“Step forward.
Show me what you can do.”
Naturally, those who decided to show off were the ones from noble families.
A tall, slender girl with light hair took a sharp step.
Her figure vanished, only to reappear a few meters away from her original spot.
However, her legs faltered, and she nearly lost her balance.
Next came the red-haired boy from the Suzunami family.
His movement was more precise but excessively heavy, he had expended too much Reiatsu.
If I noticed that, then it goes without saying that Miho-sensei did too, she criticized him immediately.
When it was Kyoraku’s turn, he seemed to dissolve into the air effortlessly and reappeared on the other side of the training ground.
His movements were fluid, yet somehow…
unrefined, perhaps.
“That’s enough,” Miho-sensei said, stopping them.
“Did everyone see that?
That is precisely why even those who already ‘know’ how to use Shunpo will start with basic training.”
She shifted her gaze to the lanky girl from the Kasumioji family.
“You’re putting too much power into the initial push but failing to control the landing.
In a real fight, that would leave you vulnerable.”
Despite the criticism, the student’s enthusiasm didn’t wane.
Let the sensei say what she pleased.
In the eyes of the others, the girl was already an object of envy.
Then, Miho-sensei’s gaze turned to Kyoraku.
“You’re too relaxed, Kyoraku-kun.
If you’d added a bit more snap to your start, you could have covered at least one and a half times the distance.” She seemed dissatisfied with the young heir’s performance, as he hadn’t given it his all.
Kyoraku merely smirked and gave a nonchalant shrug.
The sensei sighed in annoyance and continued the lesson.
“Now for the basics,” she went on.
“The first thing we’ll do is a standard run.
Ten laps around the arena.
No using spiritual power.”
Unlike the Hakuda training, where the main goal was to hold out as long as possible, this exercise called for a different approach.
“Why no Reiatsu, Igarashi-sensei?” someone in the group asked.
“Because if your body can’t handle the strain without spiritual energy, you won’t last a minute in actual combat,” she replied sternly.
“Begin.”
Given that I had run without using any enhancement techniques during the previous session as well, this was nothing new to me.
The laps were long, though ten laps here were equivalent to five in the previous training session.
The others were having a much harder time of it.
By the sixth lap, one of the aristocrats began to fall behind.
Omaeda was trailing at the back of the pack, breathing heavily.
Even Ukitake, despite his illness, was holding up better, simply maintaining a steady jogging pace.
When the final lap was finally completed, Miho-sensei surveyed us with that same cold expression.
“That was just the beginning; now we’re going to work on balance.”
She pointed to the platforms set at various heights.
“You need to get onto them and maintain your balance while performing various movements.
This will help you control your body at high speeds.”
Once we had taken our places on the platforms, it turned out that standing on them was indeed difficult.
Any careless movement shifted one’s center of gravity, forcing a scramble to find a new point of stability.
“The first exercise is moving in a circle.
We’ll start slowly, then gradually pick up speed.”
Some tried to pick up the pace immediately, but almost everyone lost their balance.
Even Kyoraku looked less steady than usual.
“If you can’t maintain your balance at a slow pace, you’ll lose control at high speeds.
And losing control means death,” she reminded them.
The subsequent exercises were no less grueling.
Sharp changes in direction, leaps from one platform to another, and sudden stops after sprinting.
It was enough to kill you.
After an hour of training, their legs were aching with fatigue, and finally, the last command was given.
“The final exercise.”
She pointed to a sandy path.
“Your task is to run along it without leaving deep footprints.
This will teach you how to distribute your weight correctly while moving.
”
Some thought the task was simple, but they were clearly mistaken.
Even walking normally on sand required concentration, let alone running.
I was among the first to try.
Pushing off sharply, I immediately felt my feet sinking in, slowing me down.
Damn.
My habit of relying on Fullbring, which I had been carefully concealing, almost had kicked in again.”
“Too abrupt a start,” Igarashi noted.
“You’re putting power into it, but not distributing it evenly.”
Kyoraku fared slightly better, though even he left noticeable indentations behind.
Once everyone had completed the task, Miho-sensei finally allowed us to stop.
“That’s all for today.
You’ve taken the first step.
But remember that without proper control, speed is merely a path to a swift demise.”
I let out a breath.
If today was just the first step, what lay ahead?
Would they teach techniques like “Cicada Shell” in the sixth year?
I really wanted to learn them.
Ichigo had ultimately saved everyone and won, but I didn’t want to believe that Shunpo, the Hollow mask, and Getsuga Tensho constituted the optimal build for beating the world of Bleach.
I mean, seriously.
After an exhausting Hoho session, we were dismissed for a short break before the next class.
However, the respite was brief.
Soon, we were directed to a large lecture hall for one of the Academy’s most significant lectures.
Hooray, it was time for Jinzen.
We were finally going to be issued Asauchi.
I didn’t really need one, all things considered, but why not take it if it’s being offered?
There was just one thing that was bothering me, and that was someone.
Oetsu Nimaiya.
I remembered perfectly well that he knew the exact location of every spiritual sword he had ever created, regardless of who held it or how they had acquired it.
The question was,could he sense the swords sitting in my inventory?
Did they vanish from his perception when I stowed them away?
It was certainly possible.
After all, my Fullbringer abilities came from a fragment of the Soul King, and those things were known for their influence on reality.
Alas, I truly didn’t know, and I had no way to verify it.
For now, I’m glad I’m too small a fry to attract the attention of the Division Zero.
And let’s be honest, it doesn’t look like they care about anything unrelated to the Amputee’s safety.
Seriously, if you can sense every Zanpakuto, you could at least drop a hint for someone to pull out the guy who’s been hacking away non-stop in the Forest of Menos for a couple of hundred years.
Ashido, I think his name was.
Poor bastard.
We took our seats, and soon the instructor walked into the lecture hall.
A stern, middle-aged man with dark-blond hair tied back in a low ponytail.
He was wearing a traditional black haori over the standard instructor’s uniform.
“Good afternoon, first-years,” he began in an even voice, standing before the class.
“My name is Sanji Tendo, and I will be your mentor in understanding the true nature of your most important weapon—your Zanpakuto.”
A peculiar silence fell over the lecture hall for a moment.
Everyone was waiting for what he would say next.
Only my mind wandered idly, searching for some form of amusement.
I smirked inwardly.
Tendo?
A familiar surname; a certain yakuza clan shared it.
‘Except this isn’t your Waifu Academy,’ Cobalt giggled in my head.
Oof. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
When you wield a Zanpakuto, you have to accept that even parts of your memory like that will be laid bare to it.
“I hope you all entered the Academy realizing that Shinigami are not merely warriors.
We are the ones who maintain the Balance of the worlds.
Yet, we possess something that sets us apart from ordinary spiritual beings.
Our swords.”
On the board behind him, on white paper, was drawn an image of a standard asauchi—an unawakened, faceless sword.
“A Zanpakutō is not merely a weapon.
It is an extension of your soul.
It is an entity that embodies your power, your will, and your nature.
However, none of you yet possesses a true Zanpakutō.
You will all start from the very beginning, with an Asauchi.”
He flipped over a large white “slide” showing the process of transforming the formless blade into an awakened weapon.
“Asauchi is a blank slate, a clean sheet.
Over the next few years, your sword will imprint a piece of your soul, taking on a form that matches your inner world.
Over time, it will become a part of you.”
Some in the audience began to whisper, while others sat motionless, listening intently.
“A Zanpakutō is not merely a tool,” Tendo-sensei continued.
“It is a companion, an ally, and a warrior spirit that will remain with you for the rest of your days.”
He shifted his gaze toward us.
“But for a Zanpakuto to acknowledge you, you must first acknowledge it.
The first step on this path is Jinzen.
That is a meditation practice that allows you to establish a connection with your blade.”
A fresh wave of whispers rippled through the hall.
“Today, you will receive your Asauchi.
And today, you will begin the first step toward awakening them.”
After a brief lecture, we were led to a special, sealed with Kido hall within the Academy, where several wooden stands awaited us.
Resting upon them were dozens of identical swords.
Simple, featureless blades with black-wrapped hilts.
When we had lined up in the proper order, Tendo-sensei stepped forward.
“These swords have no names and no souls,” he said in a deep, resonant voice.
“But they will become an extension of you.”
He gestured for us all to step forward.
“Go and take your sword.”
The first student on our class roster stepped up to the racks in turn.
We were allowed to choose whichever Asauchi we felt drawn to, though we had no more than a minute to decide.
How very generous.
Though it made no difference to me.
However, I still dragged out the time until the limit, because I had to adhere to the general line of conduct.
I couldn’t sense my sword there, even though I was deliberately trying to feel something.
I looked down at the blade in my hands.
The Asauchi felt a bit heavy, yet well-balanced.
Its blade was ordinary, devoid of any distinguishing marks.
Empty, I’d say.
An exact replica of dozens of others, not a shred of difference between them.
Once everyone had received their weapons, we were led to an open-air hall where meditation sessions took place.
There were no barriers, mats, or obstacles.
Just a spacious field covered in white sand, dotted with a few trees that offered a bit of shade.
“Sit in a circle,” Tendo-sensei instructed.
We silently followed suit.
“The first rule of Jinzen is total focus.
To hear your sword, you must clear your mind of extraneous thoughts.”
I did as told.
Silence enveloped the training ground.
The only sound was the breathing of the other students.
“Your consciousness is a door.
Your sword is the key.
Let the energy flow freely, do not hold it back.”
I felt my thoughts begin to slow down.
However, unlike the others, I didn’t try to seek a connection with my sword.
I already knew who my Zanpakuto was.
But…
what if I gave it a try?
Suddenly, a soft chuckle echoed within me.
‘Hmm…
well, go ahead, give it a try.
After all these years of playing, why not just go through the tutorial now?’
Cobalt.
I sighed inwardly.
Of course, she couldn’t help but comment on the situation.
I had simply wanted to see if anything new would come of it.
Nothing untoward regarding the two sword spirits I already possessed.
`Oh, really?
Go on, pretend you’re looking for me.
Maybe I’ll even reward you.`
I ignored her taunts and kept focusing, feigning a genuine attempt to establish contact with the sword.
A few minutes passed.
Some were beginning to grow nervous; others were finding their breathing falter.
“Take your time,” Tendo-sensei’s voice rang out.
“The first step doesn’t come easily to everyone right away.
But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”
I opened my eyes and looked around.
No one appeared to have achieved anything remarkable.
Jushiro sat motionless, a pensive look on his face.
Kyoraku was stretching lazily, clearly having achieved no result either, just like Hachigen.
This went on for some time, I almost lost count of how long.
“That’s enough for today,” the instructor finally said.
“This was your first step.
Don’t expect everything to work out right away.”
He stood up, and we followed suit.
“Don’t forget to take your Asauchi with you.
From now on, they belong to you.
And remember, the stronger your bond with the sword, the stronger you will become.”
With those words, he walked away, leaving our group to reflect on the lesson we had just completed.