Time flowed ceaselessly and inexorably, even though it felt like we still had plenty of it.
For me, schooldays and weekends alike had completely blurred into a monotonous, undifferentiated slurry of training sessions.
I could only single out specific moments from that blur by recalling new notifications from the System.
Our Kidō training sessions with Hachigen were among those moments.
“Are you sure?” he asked again, looking uneasy.
“We were warned not to use Bakudō on each other without supervision, you know.”
“It’s too late for excuses, Hachi.
But if you want, I can go first,” I suggested.
“I think I’d feel better that way,” he said, shrinking back and closing his eyes.
“Bakudō #2: Reibaku.” As my fingers completed the necessary gesture, the chubby young guy staggered and nearly fell over.
“Hey, are you okay?
That was only number two.”
“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting that,” he quickly recovered, dispelling the spell.
“Such a strange sensation…
Like my spine had been pulled out without me even noticing.”
“A very…
specific description,” I chuckled.
“Alright, your turn.”
“Okay,” he raised his hands.
“I’m starting.”
When his Spirit Seal struck me, I instinctively clutched my throat.
The sensation was…
odd.
It was as if someone had thrown a bag over my head and started suffocating me.
Unlike Kyoraku, who had been goofing off during the lesson, Hachigen actually managed to partially suppress my spiritual energy.
Only for a couple of seconds, but still.
We continued exchanging spells until the long-awaited notification appeared.
The “Reibaku” spell has been successfully mastered to 100%!
+ Temporarily reduces the target’s physical stamina in proportion to his spiritual power suppressed by the caster.
“Ugh…
It’s pretty useless, to be honest,” I exhaled in disappointment.
“It’s simply ineffective against anyone stronger than an ordinary soul.
Unless, of course, you dump a ton of Reiatsu into it yourself, but that doesn’t seem like a worthwhile trade-off.”
“I suppose it was designed for use on human souls, though?
Like, on people strong enough to see ghosts,” he suggested.
“You hit them with the spell, and they stop seeing you.”
“Yeah, or that.
Who knows?
I’m really curious what was going through the mind of the person who came up with all these spells…
I’d shake his throat if I met him.”
Especially for this one…
I think I’m starting to hate him, whoever he is.
“Hadō No.
2: Ressen,” I incanted, and a blinding flash erupted from my hand.
The light pierced through my eyelids, the fabric, and even my very soul to reach my eyes, instantly making them water.
“Damn it… no wonder Soul Reapers hardly ever use this.”
Ressen—”Bright Flash.” It’s one of those spells that doesn’t distinguish between friend and foe.
Mastering it fully required me to practically sacrifice myself, enduring the searing pain in my constantly regenerating corneas.
I swear, I might as well just wear a bucket over my head.
“That’s the problem with most offensive spells, unfortunately,” Hachigen remarked, prudently shielding his face with a textbook.
“They were likely devised with the assumption that the caster would be fighting a group of enemies alone.
Since they were created long before the Gotei was founded, they aren’t suited for group combat.
In situations like this, more precise and controllable spells are usually the better choice.”
“Like Byakurai, Shakkahō, and Sōkatsui?” I asked, wiping my watering eyes.
“Exactly.
Why do you think Shinigami rely on those specific ones so often?” he asked, looking as though he were about to give his glasses a mysterious glint.
Even though he wasn’t wearing any.
Aside from Kubo’s laziness, what other reasons were there for Shinigami limiting themselves to just two or three dozen out of nearly two hundred spells?
“Probably because they’re… simply more efficient?” I ventured.
“Take the fourth and fifth Hadō, for instance—Byakurai and En’ya.”
I fired a bolt of lightning at the target, followed by a fiery arrow.
In classic fantasy, that would have looked cool…
Heck, it looks cool here too, but that’s about it.
“For roughly the same power output, Byakurai is faster and consumes less energy,” I continued.
“Even its ‘upgraded’ version, Sempurai, falls short on speed.
It has that annoying two-second delay while charging up.”
With a crash and a flash, another bolt of lightning shot from my fingers—Hadō #10: Sharp Thunder.
“I reached the same conclusion,” Hachigen nodded.
“It’s interesting, isn’t it?
You could write an entire research paper on ‘Which spells become popular when Shinigami are subjected to specific restrictions for decades.’ Are you absolutely sure you wouldn’t want to join the Kidō Corps after the Academy?
There will be so many spells there inaccessible to ordinary Shinigami.
Things we’ll never learn about otherwise.”
“It sounds tempting, but I enjoy swinging a sword, too.
Besides, I’ve heard that no one ever transfers out of the Corps.
Ever.
And I do want to keep my freedom of choice, at least some of it,” I said, spreading my hands.
“Well, yeah, I get that…
but I think I’m perfectly fine with it,” he said, shrugging.
“I don’t really have a talent for anything else anyway.”
“Oh, stop whining, Hachigen,” I snorted.
“You’re consistently in the top ten of the First Class, maybe even the top five.
Your talent for Kidō might overshadow other areas, but that doesn’t mean you’re seriously lagging behind anywhere.”
“Sometimes it feels like you believe in me more than I do myself,” he said with a sad, wry smile.
“You have this unshakable confidence that I’ll actually achieve something.”
It’s easy to be confident when you know the future.
Besides, why shouldn’t I use that knowledge to my advantage?
And a little extra motivation wouldn’t hurt him, either.
“You just lack confidence,” I replied calmly.
“But you have talent.
Especially in Kido.
So just keep moving forward.
Believe in yourself, even if only because I believe in you.”
I’d always wanted to say something so ridiculously melodramatic, even if the quote didn’t come out word-for-word.
We continued practicing Hadō and Bakudō spells up to number twenty.
Some of them had decent or even quite interesting extra effects in Grimoire, but most simply offered slight boosts to damage, speed, or accuracy.
As for the Bakudō, the upgrades usually meant increased range, durability, or duration.
Nothing extraordinary, yet I still tried to master every single one.
After all, who knew?
I might just stumble upon something interesting.
This time, I wasn’t just grinding mindlessly.
I was preparing for any eventuality.
We were soon due for our first foray into the World of the Living, a field exercise.
Yes, we’d be accompanied by sixth-year students under the supervision of an instructor.
It was essentially their practical assignment for the first semester…
But let’s be honest.
Could we really rely on them if things went south?
I doubted any of them had even mastered Shikai.
In fact, out of the roughly six thousand members of the Gotei, only about one percent of Shinigami ever achieve Shikai.
It was easier to imagine an aristocrat secretly dispatching bodyguards for their child via a private Senkaimon.
But they certainly wouldn’t be saving me, that much was a given.
Learning Shunpo by then would have been handy.
Of course, if real danger arose, I wouldn’t hesitate to use Fullbring and my true blades, but it’s always good to have options.
Of all the potential training partners for Hoho, the only one I managed to snag was Iba girl, the class Prefect.
I had to make do with her company, though, thankfully, she certainly wasn’t the type to bail after a few failures.
“Are you sure?” Chikane asked after another attempt, wiping her forehead with her sleeve.
“I’m sure,” I nodded, breathing heavily.
“This is simply the limit of what a person can achieve without Reiatsu.”
We looked at the sandy track, where faint footprints of ours were visible.
That was the problem, they shouldn’t have been there at all.
“Given body weight, foot width, speed, movement technique, and so on, you can’t achieve perfection without Reiatsu,” I shrugged.
“On loose sand like this, it’s physically impossible.
Maybe on packed ground, though.”
“Maybe we should ask the teacher?” She crossed her arms, frowning thoughtfully.
“Well, I’ll do that when I get the chance.
I have no idea where she might be on the weekend,” I said, spreading my hands.
“By the way, didn’t your parents teach you Shunpo?
They are officers, after all.”
“Sadly, no,” she grimaced.
“They said it was better for me to learn it correctly at the Academy right from the start…
so I wouldn’t have to unlearn bad habits later.”
“That sounds… This story is hosted at g.com.
reasonable,” I clicked my tongue in annoyance but accepted the answer.
“Maybe you should ask Kyoraku-san?”
“I already did,” I said, trying to mimic his lazy tone.
“‘Don’t be in such a rush, Kaoru-kun.
You’ll be taught everything in time.
Relax, you’ve got a whole lifetime of training and work ahead of you.
Enjoy it while you can.'”
“He’s too lazy to be a future clan head.
Don’t you think?” she muttered, then immediately caught herself.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Don’t worry, he’d agree with you himself,” I said, waving it off.
It looked like there would be no easy way out.
But I’d already figured out that the trick likely lay in gathering Reiatsu beneath the soles of one’s feet.
There was nothing inherently difficult about that.
Back in the World of the Living, our Substitute Shinigami had pulled off a similar stunt during the fight against Inoue’s brother.
However, replicating it in Seireitei would be far harder because of the Sekkiseki gates, or at least, it would require an immense level of concentration.
But it wasn’t all that bad.
It wasn’t exactly an impossible maneuver.
There was no need to take to the air like in combat, just barely lift off the surface, hovering a mere centimeter above the ground.
Besides, we were quite far from the gates.
Not to mention the fact that they’d been raised long ago.
“Why didn’t they explain this right away?” I muttered.
“Or is this some kind of test of wits?”
Skill Up!
Spiritual Energy Control: D → C
Ta-da!
Yes!
I knew my hard work would pay off sooner or later.
I was only a couple of points away from the next rank anyway, but it’s still satisfying.
By gradually increasing my speed, I finally managed to cross the entire track in ten steps without once sinking my foot into the sand.
But simply “walking on air” wasn’t enough.
I needed *Shunpo*.
And that meant…
moving at flash speed.
Just like the name implies.
Still, I should catch my breath for a moment, that trick completely drained me.
“How did you do that?” my training partner asked in surprise, losing her concentration and stumbling in the sand.
“We were told that doing this inside the city walls is nearly impossible.
Certainly not at the Academy student level.”
” ‘Nearly impossible’ doesn’t mean ‘absolutely impossible,'” I exhaled, balancing in mid-air.
“That still doesn’t explain anything,” she stated stubbornly.
“Concentration and a vast reserve of reiatsu,” I said, spreading my hands.
“It works exactly the same way for captains and lieutenants, that’s why they’re able to walk on air in Seireitei.
It’s not because of their Zanpakuto or any other tricks.
It’s simply the ability to condense a massive amount of spiritual energy beneath oneself and steadily channel a flow of it under one’s feet…
before it dissipates.”
I tried to lift my foot a little higher, but with a loud crack, I lost my balance and tumbled to the ground.
“As you can see, I can only gather Reiatsu a tiny distance above the ground.
For now,” I snorted smugly.
“It’s impressive, but stunts like that still have nothing to do with Shunpo,” she frowned, having failed to replicate my move.
“You’re supposed to push off the ground, not hover in mid-air.”
“Well, go ahead then, Chikane Iba.
Show me how it’s done,” I said, brushing the sand off myself.
Go on, future lieutenant, show off your technique.
And…
she did it.
She was actually standing on the sand, not hovering above it.
And she left no footprints as she walked.
It wasn’t quite Shunpo yet, but she was doing something right.
Wait.
Did I actually make the task significantly harder for myself?
Possibly…
But I can’t seem to manipulate the sand itself without triggering that neon light of Fullbring.
It’s an instinct, a reflex, even.
That I’ve drilled into my own head.
Overcoming it is going to take some real effort.
“See?” She stomped her foot pointedly, without causing even the slightest shift in the grains of sand.
“I see, I see,” I said, rising to my feet with a sigh…
…and slowly sinking them into the sand.
Carefully channeling my Reatsu in small bursts, I lifted one foot and tried to form a platform on the sand.
A couple of times, I unconsciously activated Soul Matter Manipulation, but I cancelled it immediately.
Just barely stopping it before the green rings could appear.
I don’t need Bringer Light.
I just need Shunpo.
After what felt like an eternity, and a massive toll on my nerves, I was finally standing there.
On the surface.
Without leaving a trace.
Got it.
Now, a step.
Or even…
a burst of speed!
I tensed my muscles, channeled Reiatsu through my body, and practically dove forward.
It seems I took that “dive” a bit too literally, though, as I went face-first right into the sand.
Yeah…
looks like a trip to the baths is in my future today.
“You did it!” she exclaimed involuntarily.
“Almost,” I said, spitting out grit as sand crunched between my teeth.
The skill hadn’t registered, which meant something was amiss.
Well, for starters, I’d learn not to fall over, we’d see what came next after that.
After dozens of attempts, I began to notice that my movements were gradually becoming… more stable.
I felt it most in my legs.
They were now “gliding” across the surface with surprising ease.
That awkward muscular tension was still there, but it was starting to feel familiar.
I began to sense the rhythm.
Channeling Reiatsu into my heel, then into my toes, and finally releasing the pulse just as I took a step.
“…One.
Two.
Three…” I whispered under my breath, focusing on each phase.
I had lost count of my failed attempts, but I finally managed my first real leap.
Yes, it was short and jerky, but it was a leap nonetheless.
It was no longer just a step—it was a genuine *Shunpo*.
Blurred in the air, I found myself two meters ahead.
No sand in my sandals, no tracks beneath my soles.
“It worked…” I rasped out after a sharp exhale.
My heart was pounding as if I’d just run a sprint.
I had barely managed to control the impulse, but for the system, that was quite enough.
Skill Acquired!
Skill: Shunpo
Rank: E
Rank Progress: 2/100
Description: A basic high-speed movement technique used by Shinigami.
It allows the user to cover short distances almost instantaneously.
The higher the skill rank, the greater the distance that can be covered without losing control, and the lower the Reiatsu cost.
Heh, I’m definitely going to squeeze every last drop out of this “Academy Student” bonus.
Now, I should probably share my progress with my reluctant partner.
After all, she was the one who nudged me onto the right path.
Though, had I been on my own, I would have achieved the result regardless.
Probably.
Just in a more twisted way, like using Shunpo in mid-air.
…
When the *Hoho* lesson finally rolled around, we were eager to show our sensei what we’d achieved.
But really, what did I expect from that old harpy, Miho?
Praise?
Of course not.
She immediately declared our technique a waking nightmare and said we moved like dead caterpillars.
And yet…
What’s more, she made it clear that we shouldn’t tell anyone else about the exercise’s key aspect, namely, Reiatsu—just yet.
Apparently, the time wasn’t right.
Well, okay then.
I just hope word of my success reaches the Headmaster.
Maybe I’ll score a point in my favor.
In the meantime, we’re waiting for the “tour” of Gensei.
I can’t wait, the monotony is starting to drive me crazy.
Just kidding, of course.
Compared to Zaraki, this is practically a resort.
A boring one, though.
…
I had thought this night would be just another one of those that blur into an endless, monotonous stream of identical nights.
But I was wrong.
“Aaaagh!” A muffled cry rang out from the far side of the room.
Shunsui bolted upright on his futon, breathing heavily, as if he’d just surfaced from a nightmare.
“Huh?” I mumbled, having barely settled onto my pillow after my Zanpakutō training.
It took me three tries just to lift my heavy head enough to spit out a sarcastic remark.
“What?
Can’t sleep while you’re sober?”
“Kaoru?
Is that you?” His voice sounded strangely unsure.
“Nope, it’s a demon talking right now.
It ate my insides, pulled my skin over itself as a disguise, and is now forced to attend classes in my place every day.” A wide yawn, one that nearly dislocated my jaw, cut my snarky speech short.
“Of course it’s me.
There are still five hours until morning.
Is this your way of getting back at me or something?”
“No, no.
How could you think that, my friend?” he breathed, stretching out on his mattress again.
“It was just…
a strange dream.
Very vivid.”
“Oh,” I said, unimpressed.
“That’s probably your Zanpakutō.
Congratulations.”
I turned onto my side, intending to drift back into a doze.
“Want to hear about it?” For some reason, Shunsui was bursting with energy right now—a stark contrast to his usual morning self.
“You weren’t going to let me sleep until you got this off your chest anyway, right?” I exhaled wearily in response to his chuckle.
“Go ahead.”
“I suppose it was my inner world,” he began, his voice slightly breathless, as if reliving the dream.
“I found myself in the middle of a cherry orchard.
An incredibly vast, silent place, as if frozen in time.
Little bridges over streams, petals scattered along the paths, gazebos with carved roofs.
It was like something out of an ancient scroll.
The air was filled with the scent of blossoms and water.”
He spoke slowly, as if afraid to startle the memory away.
“Everything was bathed in the warm glow of sunset, that fleeting light that lingers for just a moment between day and night.
The sun hung motionless at the horizon, and the trees cast long shadows that seemed to be trying to escape beyond the edge of the world.”
“You’ve got a real way with words,” I snorted irritably.
“I didn’t know you were a poet at heart.”
He ignored me and kept right on waxing lyrical.
“In the center of the orchard stood a large theatrical backdrop.
And upon it—a woman.
She was stunning, like a living painting.
The moment I looked at her, the sky turned crimson.
Shadows began to creep across the ground.
I turned around, and only then did I notice masks hanging from the trees.
Masks with children’s faces.
They were whispering something about games.
In thin, doll-like voices.”
Well, that sounded like an inner world that his Katen Kyokotsu could live in.
Or perhaps just Katen for now, seeing as his brother was still alive and he himself wasn’t yet harboring the Ise Shrine relic.
“I wouldn’t say I was scared,” he added, his tone shifting again.
“I stepped closer.
I wanted to get a good look at her.
And you know…
she was probably the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”
“And here I thought the dream would spare me your erotic fantasies,” I muttered.
“You don’t know me very well,” he chuckled softly, then fell silent.
I waited a while, but he showed no signs of continuing the story.
“…Well?!
What did she look like?” I finally blurted out, unable to drift off to sleep without satisfying my curiosity.
I had an idea of what both his Zanpakutō spirits looked like, but I needed to verify that my mental image matched reality.
I doubted my presence could have affected the structure of his soul in any way, but you never know.
“Oh, so now you’re interested, huh?” he asked playfully.
“You won’t interrupt me anymore?”
“Oh, screw off,” I said, turning away from him again and making a show of pulling the blanket over my head.
“Alright, alright—I didn’t expect you to be so grumpy and angry,” he laughed again, then went on with his story.
“I suppose I shouldn’t have woken you up in the middle of the night.”
He described her as if sketching a portrait from memory.
Painstakingly, and with a hint of bewilderment.
“She was quite tall, with a slender waist and…
you know, a voluptuous figure.” It was probably the first time in my life I’d heard genuine awkwardness in his voice.
What’s the matter, pervert, feeling shy?
“She was wearing a black cloak and a dark maroon dress with a yellow skull design on the stomach.”
Oh, so you’re going to ignore the cleavage that could rival Matsumoto’s?
“Purple hair.
A shade darker than Captain Furofushi’s, and not as long.
Straight bangs and two twirled pigtails.
The kind of hairstyle a princess might have, the sort servants spend hours styling.
Or a theater actress, that suits her too…” he mused, though he kept working on the composite sketch for me.
“She also wore a strange accessory on her head.
A small skull and crossbones.
And believe me, I wish I could find a gemstone to show just how beautiful her turquoise eyes were…
though, unfortunately, one of them was covered by an eyepatch.”
Don’t be sad, Kyoraku.
Sooner or later, you’ll have an eyepatch just like that.
And be missing an eye, too.
“She sounds…
like an interesting character.
Too bad I can’t draw.” Great, her appearance matches what I remembered.
“So, what exactly was the scary part?”
“She flitted gracefully across the stage, as if dancing, and was saying something…
but I couldn’t hear her.
I tried to speak to her, to call out to her somehow, but nothing worked.
That upset her greatly, and then shadows engulfed me and dragged me underground,” he shuddered.
“A dubious experience, if you were wondering.
Revolting.
Unpleasant and terrifying.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I snorted.
“We were told that it’s rare for a Shinigami to have a Zanpakuto spirit of the opposite sex…
I guess you’re special.
Or maybe it’s just a reflection of the fact that you’re a womanizer.”
Come to think of it, some pretty remarkable figures in this universe had female Zanpakuto spirits.
Kisuke Urahara, Azashiro Kenpachi, Zaraki Kenpachi, and Kyoraku, too.
I don’t know if that form counts as canon, but why not, let’s add Renji to the list.
And me.
Don’t forget about me.
Hmm, Kyoka Suigetsu sounds like a girl’s name too, now that I think about it…
but I won’t waste time spinning theories.
“Hmm, let’s see what your spirit turns out to be,” he snorted.
“I’ll have something to say either way.”
“Yeah, yeah.
Sure,”I said, waving him off.
“Well, the fairy tale is over.
It`s time to sleep.
”
“Don’t deny yourself anything, my friend.
Sleep as long as you like.
But I doubt I’ll be getting any sleep tonight,” he chuckled nervously.