During the Hakuda sparring sessions, I mostly stuck to the techniques we’d covered in class, avoiding improvisation.
There were no clear winners or losers, Chikane and I were roughly evenly matched.
Besides, my main goal wasn’t victory, but rather preparing for any surprises Kobayashi might throw my way and figuring out how to weather them with minimal damage.
“Not quite as talented at hand-to-hand combat, then?” Chikane teased.
“Do I detect a hint of envy in your voice?” I snorted.
“I’m flattered, of course, but you’re improving pretty fast yourself.
No need to sell yourself short.”
“I’m not selling myself short.
I just thought someone like you would have a lot more experience in a fistfight,” she remarked.
“But it doesn’t really look that way.”
“There’s a reason for that,” I nodded.
“Sensei really doesn’t like my style, so I’m sticking strictly to what we covered in class.
To my surprise, I’m still keeping pace with you.”
“Are you saying that if you didn’t hold back, you’d easily beat me?” she narrowed her eyes, clearly skeptical.
“Yeah,” I smirked, allowing myself a bit of a boast.
“Prove it,” she challenged, crossing her arms over her chest.
“If you say so.
Eyes or throat, take your pick,” I warned, stepping forward.
“What?” She didn’t immediately grasp what I was getting at, but I didn’t give her time to think.
Catching her off guard with a feint, I stopped my fist just millimeters from her neck.
Without even touching her skin, I could sense her nervous swallow.
Chikane slowly took a step back, her gaze fixed intently on my fist as if processing what had just happened.
Then she looked up at me, not with anger, but clearly stung.
“Attack.
I’m just getting started,” I said, beckoning her forward.
I kept the fight going using nothing but feints, stopping just a split second before landing blows that would have been excruciatingly painful or caused serious injury.
Every time she tried to counterattack, I would sidestep or intercept her move, seizing the initiative.
Eventually, she broke free and increased the distance between us.
“I see…
so this is what you call your style?” She caught her breath and gave her shoulders a shake.
“It doesn’t even look like hand-to-hand combat.”
“Well, yes.
As you’ve probably noticed, I’m a novice at Hakuda.
However, I possess a vast arsenal of tricks that come in handy for an unarmed fighter.” I shrugged, as if it were a matter of course.
“Do you think there’s any reason to hold back against an armed opponent who’s trying to kill you?”
She couldn’t give me a clear, confident answer right away.
“No.
There simply are no such reasons, nor can there be,” I answered for her.
“You have to strike your opponent with maximum brutality, pain, and ruthlessness, inflicting as much damage as possible.
Until you can get your hands on the nearest rock or stick.
Even a handful of sand will do.”
“That isn’t how Shinigami fight,” she shook her head.
“We’ll see.
It certainly won’t be of any use against Hollows, but I’m sure it’ll work against people.
Especially the ones who are a bit too proud.
Shall we continue?”
She didn’t say anything, just nodded.
We spent the time until dinner practicing standard techniques, and afterwards, having thanked each other for the session, we went our separate ways.
I, for one, headed to the dining hall, where the familiar white and pink heads were already waiting for me.
“What’s with the looks on your faces?
I’m back from the training grounds, not crawling out of a grave,” I chuckled, sitting down between them in my usual spot.
“We thought you’d be… in no state to train,” Ukitake chuckled awkwardly.
“And that you wouldn’t show up until Monday,” Hachigen added.
“Believe it or not, by the time I walked back to the Academy, the alcohol had completely worn off,” I sighed heavily and muttered, “I really need to learn Shunpo soon…”
“So…
who won?” Ushoda, the chubby kid, was clearly burning with curiosity.
I wonder how he’ll eventually grow to be nearly three meters tall?
“Guess,” I said, trying to build some suspense, but their expressions made it immediately obvious that they hadn’t been counting on me to win.
“Kyoraku-san?” Ukitake ventured.
“Nope!” I grinned.
“Really?” Jushiro raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Then where is…”
“Kyoraku-san passed out, took a nap, and then stayed behind to hit on the ladies.
Everyone has their own way of dealing with the sting of defeat,” I said, spreading my hands.
“And you went straight to the training grounds after your victory?” Hachigen looked at me as if I’d said something insane.
“It almost makes me feel ashamed for resting all day…”
“Oh, come on, I need a rest too.
I just have nothing better to do, so I’m training,” I said dismissively.
“There are still six years ahead of us.
You can learn anything in that time.”
I hadn’t lied to the guys.
The lack of the internet and video games all these years had really taken its toll on me.
Any form of entertainment other than combat seemed pointless, failing to spark even a shred of pleasure.
Watching the skill progression numbers climb in my Diary, however, was a different story.
It was like a piece of chocolate for a dopamine-starved brain.
Shunsui didn’t return that night, but I hadn’t expected him to.
It’s nice to have the room all to yourself sometimes.
Without missing a single day, as if a daily bonus with valuable rewards depended on it, I once again immersed myself in my inner world.
It felt like the only place where I was truly safe.
Yet, come to think of it, there was something strange about that.
I had never encountered a place like this, in any form, during my life.
And yet, this world, whatever it might be, was a creation of my own soul.
It was all so fascinating, so mysterious.
Without further ado, I crossed swords with Golden.
I was eager to test the effectiveness of my rank-boosted abilities against her.
“You are fighting with particular fervor today, Master,” she said, parrying my thrust.
“Were you truly so impressed by that brief encounter with Tokinada?”
The question struck a deep, painful chord, deeper than any blade ever could.
My Zanpakuto sees straight to the heart of things, as always.
“Well…
there’s no hiding anything from the two of you,” I sighed.
“Fear is a poor motivator, Master,” she said, shaking her head.
“Though, I’ll admit, a very effective one.”
“You can say that again.
After all, I somehow survived and made it here,” I chuckled, continuing to land blows.
“Unfortunately, I had no other motivation.”
“What about the thirst for power?” Cobalt interjected.
She was leaning lazily against one of the columns outside the ‘arena’, not participating in the fight but watching my every move intently.
“Ah, right, its ugly roots pulse with fear anyway.”
“And what do you mean by that?” I asked, trying not to snap.
“I’m still a Zanpakutō, even if a Hollow one.
My job is to speak riddles, and yours is to solve them,” she shrugged.
“Pay her no mind, Master,” Golden said dismissively, parrying my thrust with such force that I nearly dropped my sword.
“Just walk your path, and we shall follow you.”
When fatigue finally got the better of me, I stopped fighting and collapsed onto the platform beside Cobalt, who was sprawled out brazenly.
Gold, meanwhile, knelt down next to us, resting her hands on her lap in the *seiza* position.
“I’ve always wanted to ask…
how do my emotions affect this inner world?” I ran my hand over the platform’s smooth metal surface.
“I don’t think it rains here when I’m sad.
Besides, an archive isn’t exactly the best place for moisture.”
“When you doubt yourself, the platform starts to creak,” Cobalt replied.
“Sometimes the sound is so unbearable that you just want to tear out your eyes and puncture your eardrums.”
“Oh,” I breathed, stunned.
“Is it really like that?”
“We don’t blame you,” she continued, though her gaze involuntarily darted away.
“Besides, I’m not doing too badly.
After all, I only just returned.”
“When despair takes hold of you…” Golden added, “the platform begins to fall.
And the more your faith wavers, the faster it plummets.”
I frowned.
I caught the implication in Cobalt’s words, she hadn’t gone through it either.
It was terrifying just to imagine how I would feel in a falling elevator.
What had it been like when there was only a single spirit here, my Shinigami power?
“An endless, mounting terror,” Golden replied to my unspoken question.
“My heart rises into my throat and stops.
My blood runs cold.
There is nothing you can do.
Absolute helplessness.”
She hunched over, looming above me, her voice sounding hollow and lifeless.
“I don’t know what lies down there, Master.
Perhaps a boundless ocean of blood where the souls and memories of everyone you’ve consumed are swirling.
Or perhaps a sudden, violent halt that will shatter me to pieces.”
She pressed her mask almost right against my face, locking my gaze with eyes that burned with a fierce neon glow.
For a moment, it seemed as though the Abyss itself was swirling within those black pupils, behind the brilliant irises.
“I hate it when you give in to despair, Master.
It is easier to die than to live in utter despair.”
I sat up, never breaking eye contact, and, after a moment’s hesitation, gently put my arms around her.
She didn’t return the embrace, but her tense body visibly relaxed.
“I’m sorry,” I said awkwardly.
What else was I supposed to say to a part of my own soul?
“Sorry for the inconvenience”?
“Just… don’t lose your heart, Master, and don’t doubt yourself.
That is the only thing I ask of you.”
Our eyes met again.
I blinked…
…and woke up, staring at a familiar ceiling.
A couple of meters away, Shunsui was snoring.
Sunday was incredibly dull.
After breakfast came another training session.
Jushiro and Hachigen showed up at the training grounds today, so we sparred a bit together.
Admittedly, I didn’t get much out of it.
They were still weaker than me, after all.
Lunch, then training again.
Chikane didn’t let up and kept fighting until she was utterly exhausted.
I was actually a bit surprised by how easily we both moved past that misunderstanding.
We hadn’t exactly become friends, but she was an excellent sparring partner.
Tenacious, resilient, and fierce.
Dinner.
Sleep.
Meanwhile, things in the inner world went on just as before, as if nothing had happened.
We fought, traded barbs, and tested each other’s limits time and again.
I wanted to ask if positive emotions affected this place too, but the thought struck me as rather silly.
I’d save that question for another time.
The next morning, a lecture by Yamamoto awaited us.
Waking up Shunsui and having breakfast with the others had already become a routine.
Then, we headed to the lecture on the “Structure of the Gotei 13.”
I was familiar with most of the information, but the original source material had omitted quite a few details.
Likely because they weren’t essential to the plot.
For instance, the specific purposes and direct duties of the divisions, aside from a few key ones.
So, I readily picked up my brush and took notes on everything new.
The lecture turned out to be unexpectedly comprehensive.
Beyond the duties of each division, Yamamoto covered their symbolism and even their color schemes.
For example, the flower of the First Division was the chrysanthemum; it symbolized truth and innocence.
The color was dark purple.
Strange.
I was certain the Captain-Commander would choose something with a fire theme.
But then again, what do I really know about Yamamoto Genryusai, right?
It would help me know whether I should even continue translating it into English.