After school, at the training field.
Sōsuke walked ahead, taking a wooden sword from the rack at the field's edge and turning to face the boy behind him.
Shinji followed, his heart uneasy. He'd been beaten by Sōsuke before, but that first "spar" on the rooftop had made the vast gap between them painfully clear. The overwhelming difference in strength showed Shinji just how far apart they were.
Even after multiple defeats, he knew Sōsuke hadn't been serious.
But…
Shinji looked up at Sōsuke, whose expression was unusually grim.
Is this jerk in a bad mood today?
Sensing his unease, Sōsuke's voice was cold. "What? Scared? You can back out now."
"Who's scared of you?!" Shinji snapped, jumping as if his tail had been stepped on.
To prove his courage, he strode to the rack, reaching for a wooden sword.
"No need." Sōsuke interrupted. "You've got a real blade, don't you? Use that, like before."
He ant the rooftop incident.
Shinji paused, hand brushing the Asauchi inherited from his senpai, Yoshida, hesitating. "But…"
"It's fine." Sōsuke cut in, matter-of-fact. "You don't think you can actually touch , do you?"
"You!" Shinji's forehead veins bulged.
Gripping the hilt, he drew his Asauchi with a sharp zing, assuming a textbook diagonal stance. Though a first-year at the Shin'ō Academy, Shinji, also called a genius, had studied nearly every sword stance available in the library since that incident. His spiritual body hadn't fully matured, but in Zanjutsu, he stood out among students.
Without hesitation, a surge of Reishi erupted from his feet. He shot forward like a gale, slashing at Sōsuke with the montum.
The gleaming blade carved a dazzling arc through the air.
The wind howled.
Yet, facing this swift strike, Sōsuke stood still, as if frozen. Only at the last mont, when the blade neared his neck, did he shift his foot, dodging with ease.
Shinji's sword t air, his balance tipping forward.
Thwack!
A wooden sword tapped his head lightly.
It stung a bit.
"One." Sōsuke said flatly.
Shinji, stunned, flushed red. In a flash, he spun his blade upward, thrusting diagonally.
"Hah!"
Sōsuke didn't move an inch, casually blocking with his wooden sword, sliding along the Asauchi's edge and striking first. A tap to Shinji's hand loosened his grip, tilting him forward.
Another tap to the head.
Thwack.
"Two."
The cold count rang out.
The ease of his defeat sent a chill through Shinji. Sōsuke hadn't used superior Reiatsu or speed, just pure Zanjutsu to dismantle his hard-earned stances.
The light head taps felt like humiliation.
The more it sank in, the harder it was for Shinji to bear.
"Die!"
Losing all reason, he abandoned his stance, raising his blade and slashing wildly.
Sōsuke's brow furrowed. Before the blade could fall, he lifted a foot and kicked Shinji's wide-open stomach, sending him flying. He rolled across the ground several tis.
Clambering up, Shinji retched, his abdon throbbing.
"Get up." Sōsuke said coldly, as he had at the start. "Keep your stance. Don't you want to get stronger?"
Shinji froze.
He realized Sōsuke, though silent about it, was teaching him Zanjutsu through this thod, not humiliating him.
A way to get stronger…
This guy.
The realization sparked a flicker of strength in Shinji's aching body. Struggling to his feet, he adopted a more conservative mid-level sword stance.
After a brief pause, he charged at Sōsuke again.
This ti, Sōsuke's frown eased slightly.
But his strikes remained unrelenting.
…
Thud.
After what felt like ages, Shinji collapsed face-first.
His once-smooth head was covered in lumps, nearly deford. Exhausted, he lay panting, unable to muster even a retort, drooling as if broken, eyes nearly rolling back.
Sōsuke finally lowered his wooden sword.
"One hundred twenty-nine."
"I'll train you to this standard from now on."
Hearing Sōsuke's voice, Shinji, dazed, struggled to lift his head, trying to protest. But at the second sentence, he deflated, trembling as he looked at Sōsuke like he was a demon.
Sōsuke, oblivious to his stunned gaze, continued calmly, "But you're impressive."
Shinji straightened, hopeful. His persistence had earned so recognition.
Then Sōsuke went on, "Your mid-stance is weak, your diagonal stance sloppy, your footwork loose, your reactions slow. Offense, defense, evasion, nothing's up to par. You've morized every stance like a glutton but haven't chosen one that suits you. Even I have to admire that."
Shinji's brief spark of pride crumbled. He opened his mouth, struggling.
You…
Mastering all stances as a first-year was impressive, wasn't it?
But recalling how Sōsuke had effortlessly "killed" Him over a hundred tis, he fell silent.
He was the one driven by a blood feud to avenge those Hollows, yet his effort paled compared to a peer.
"Damn it." Shinji muttered, clenching his fist, unwilling to accept it.
Seeing his reaction, Sōsuke's tone softened. "Your Reiatsu talent isn't bad, though."
Shinji's head shot up, grasping at hope. "Really?!"
"It's just decent." Sōsuke said dryly. "So, stop practicing Zanjutsu for now. Start with refining your Reiatsu."
"Got it!" Shinji replied eagerly, his voice loud.
He didn't even realize it himself.
At that mont, Shinji genuinely admired Sōsuke.
Once, he'd been proud of his own talent. But the Academy incident and Sōsuke's presence had shown him the truth: a so-called genius was just a weakling with the potential to beco strong.
This realization made Shinji understand how valuable Sōsuke's guidance was.
His mouth, though, stayed stubborn.
"When I get stronger, I'll knock lumps all over your head!" He muttered under his breath.
Fueled by that resolve, he trained with extra vigor. He scoffed at anyone who seed superior. If they were too far above him, he scoffed in secret.
Sōsuke watched Shinji, exhausted but seated under a tree, muttering complaints while training diligently, his eyes narrowing.
He looked down at the wooden sword in his hand.
"Is this… the gap between the ordinary and a genius?" He murmured. "In Makoto's eyes, am I just as pathetic? What exactly does he want to understand?"
Silence lingered. Unlike before, Sōsuke didn't rush to conclusions based on simple observations.
Clearly, whatever Makoto's goal, he wanted Sōsuke to feel this firsthand.
Fine. He'd experience it.
His talent gave him unmatched confidence. Sensing sothing, he looked up at the sky, his gaze as cool as ever.
…
Makoto watched the screen, his eyes eting Sōsuke's skyward glance. A faint smile spread across his face.
As expected of Sōsuke.
This was one reason he'd chosen to ddle in his life.
If this Sōsuke remained like his original self, a godlike figure gazing down on the Soul Society, detached and alone, indifferent to bonds or emotions, he'd stay as cold and solitary as in the original tiline.
Like his Zanpakutō.
Kyōka Suigetsu.
A na so deceptive, so pitiable.
A Zanpakutō's release reflects the soul's essence, and for Sōsuke, it mirrored a lifeti of pretense and emptiness. Only the blind could touch his truth.
Makoto wanted to nudge his life toward a small change, driven by a flicker of curiosity.
If Sōsuke's illusory, Kyōka Suigetsu-like existence gained a touch of bonds and friendship, could he still stand aloof like a god, gazing beyond the stars?
…
Ti passed swiftly.
For Shinigami with their long lifespans, human ti felt fleeting.
Four years blinked by, two-thirds of the six-year Academy life gone.
Yet Sōsuke, with his exceptional talent, still looked like a child, his height unchanged. Shinji, anwhile, had grown half a head taller, his once-yellow bob now longer.
That morning, as usual, they arrived early at the Academy's training field.
Shinji drew his Asauchi, facing the pint-sized Sōsuke with a cautious lower stance, not letting his guard down.
Four years of training had clarified the gap between them. Even with Sōsuke holding just a wooden sword, Shinji stayed vigilant.
Whoosh!
His figure vanished, leaving only a trace of dust.
Sōsuke remained calm, extending his wooden sword forward.
Clang.
It t Shinji's strike mid-path.
In a split second, Shinji retracted his blade, pivoting with the slight force of their clash, slashing upward in a reverse kesa cut.
Sōsuke's wooden sword thrust out in a short, direct line, aiming for Shinji's wrist. Shinji twisted his Asauchi, its tsuba deflecting the wooden tip. Stepping forward, he shifted his reverse kesa into a thrust, the air snapping sharply. Sōsuke's wooden sword parried lightly, leaving a crisp tallic ring.
Throughout, the wooden sword kept its distance from the sharp blade, deflecting Shinji's attacks with increasing speed and precision.
Shinji, accustod to this training, pressed on undeterred, no matter how many tis he attacked.
Their rapid exchange would've looked to an onlooker like Shinji's form blurring into a ring of afterimages around Sōsuke, his steps, stances, and strikes ruthlessly precise.
As a student, his Zanjutsu already surpassed most active Shinigami.
After a dozen clashes, Shinji spotted an opening and thrust forward.
But Sōsuke, near exhaustion, kicked his wooden sword upward, redirecting it with the force of his foot.
Thwack!
As always, it tapped Shinji's head.
"One." Sōsuke said lightly.
Shinji paused, sighing heavily. "Man, you don't give an inch, do you?"
Seeing his deflated look, Sōsuke thought for a mont, then offered, "You did well today. Making move a step? That's a first."
"You…" Shinji's veins pulsed, but Sōsuke's gentle smile left him deflated.
This guy genuinely ant it.
"You monster!" Shinji sheathed his Asauchi, giving up. "Let's go. Class is starting soon. It's a full-day field training today. If we're late, that jerk Sawagoe will target again."
"Speaking of which…" Shinji glanced at Sōsuke, hand on his sheath. "Just how strong are you now?"
Though Sōsuke never showed it, Shinji sensed that as he grew stronger, Sōsuke was advancing even faster, more fiercely.
He felt his own skill now rivaled Sawagoe, a forr seated officer.
But Sōsuke?
Sōsuke returned the wooden sword to the rack, turning with a cryptic smile.
"Who knows?"
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
***
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