The dojo sat nestled at the end of a side street, half-hidden behind a line of tall hedges and the rusted fra of a forgotten bicycle rack. A small wooden sign hung above the gate, its faded brushstrokes still proud in their simplicity:
Yamashita Traditional Sword Arts
Not exactly flashy, but it gave off the vibe of old-school discipline and unspoken history. More importantly, it was the only dojo in town. Kuoh wasn’t exactly brimming with options.
I slid the door open and stepped inside, greeted by the faint scent of sweat, pinewood, and polished bamboo. Smooth hardwood flooring stretched out before , lined by neatly stacked shinai and polished racks of armor. Sparse. Clean. Efficient. It reflected my previous office, just a different aesthetic. I liked it already.
I didn’t wait long before soone approached, an older man, maybe in his early forties, hair tied into a low ponytail, with sun-worn skin and sharp, narrow eyes that had clearly seen years of combat. He didn’t look particularly bulky, but he carried himself like he didn’t need to be. His gi was simple, sleeves rolled, and his calloused hands were crossed behind his back.
"You here to sign up, kid?" he asked, voice deep but casual.
"Yeah," I nodded. "Toshio Amano. I’d like to join."
He eyed for a mont, not unkindly. "You don’t look like the type to want a hobby. But that’s not a bad thing." He gestured toward a hallway. "Na’s Hideki. I help run the place. But before you start, you’ve gotta pass the test of will."
"Test of will?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
"House tradition. It’s different for everyone. It’s whatever the master chooses it to be,," he said simply. "Co on."
We walked down the short corridor until it opened into a smaller, separate dojo hall. At the center stood a man. Still. Silent. His posture perfect, his hair short and silvering at the edges. His expression unreadable. The dojo master.
Hideki gave a small bow. "Master Kurogane. The boy’s here to take the test of will."
Kurogane said nothing. He simply stepped forward, unhooked a shinai from the nearby wall, and stood in front of .
He didn’t speak. Didn’t ask if I was ready.
He raised the shinai with practiced ease, and then brought it down in a blur.
The bamboo tip halted a quarter inch from my forehead.
I didn’t move. I didn’t flinch. My body didn’t even register the impulse to recoil.
I just looked straight into his eyes.
I didn’t fear pain. My brain processed danger, sure, but fear was... dulled in . Always had been. Even more so now. Sotis I forget that fear is an emotion at all.
A long second passed before he pulled the shinai away and gave a single, approving nod.
"You may join the next session," he said, voice low and asured. "It begins in thirty minutes."
With that, he turned and walked away, as if nothing had happened.
"Not one for many words, huh."
Hideki chuckled under his breath and clapped on the back. "Not bad, kid. Most people flinch the first ti when he chooses that test. Let’s get you oriented."
He spent the next twenty minutes giving a basic tour. Storage areas, cleanup responsibilities, the rules; bow when entering, bow when leaving, respect the floor and your opponent. Monthly dues were modest, and easily covered by my stipend. Not having a guardian made it a little awkward, since technically they had to sign their kids up. I explained my unique situation and Hideki didn’t give much push back. I signed the waiver, tucked the paynt envelope into the slot, and was handed a uniform in return; a white keikogi and hakama, freshly washed and folded.
Once I changed, I stood in front of a mirror, tugging the fabric into place. Clean fit. Looked the part, at least. I tightened the belt and stepped out onto the dojo floor.
A small group had already gathered for today’s class. Most of them looked a little younger than . So older. One pair, though, stood out almost imdiately.
Two girls were finishing stretches near the far side of the mat, talking in low tones while adjusting their uniforms. One had a high ponytail and the kind of restless energy that showed in the way she shifted her weight between her feet. The other moved more deliberately, with practiced poise, her short, pink hair catching the light whenever she turned her head.
Even before they turned fully toward , I already knew who they were. Murayama and Katase. A little younger, maybe an inch shorter, not quite as sharp around the edges as I rembered them from canon. But the resemblance was unmistakable.
Murayama still carried herself like soone who wasn’t used to losing. Confident, expressive, already radiating the kind of athletic competitiveness that marked her even later on. Katase was cooler, her movents smooth and controlled—more like a tactician than a brawler. They didn’t seem to notice yet, which was fine. I wasn’t here to make a scene.
Kurogane stepped to the center of the mat. "Today, we welco a new mber. Toshio Amano. Treat him with the sa respect you give one another."
The class bowed. I returned the gesture. Warmup exercises followed shortly after.
The warmups flowed into form drills. I copied what I saw, as best I could; angles, spacing, rhythm. The blade movents weren’t overly complex, but they demanded a kind of body mory I didn’t have. I had Perfect mory, sure, but that didn’t teach you how to move, only how to rember how soone else moved. It was like trying to copy a sword movent I’ve seen in ani. It didn’t translate. My body lagged behind my mind. But I focused, stayed disciplined, didn’t complain. I probably looked as stiff as a board.
Then ca sparring.
As fate would have it, when the pairings were called out and I heard "Murayama, Amano," I already knew what kind of match it was going to be.
She approached with a playful expression—not mocking, but definitely amused. "Guess I’ve got the new guy."
"Guess so," I said, nodding politely.
"I’m Murayama. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you."
"Appreciate the kindness." I spoke in a neutral tone.
She grinned. "Just don’t cry when you lose." My face ford a slight smirk of amusent; not at the taunt, but the idea of crying over sothing like this.
We bowed. Shinai raised. The instructor called the start.
Murayama opened cautiously; testing strikes, light footwork, nothing aggressive. I tried to respond in kind, recalling the katas we’d just gone over. I could imitate the motions, but my follow-through was too tight, my steps too wide. I missed a block, barely redirected another strike, and nearly tripped trying to counter.
Murayama eased up even more, clearly not wanting to embarrass . I hated that.
Ding!
And then, without warning—
It happened.
A strange, tingling pull in my chest. A flicker behind my eyes. Like a wire had been plugged in.
I didn’t see or hear the system notification, my focus was locked in, but I felt sothing click.
The next ti Murayama struck, I moved without thinking.
My shinai t hers at the perfect angle. Our blades slid apart, and I flowed into a textbook counter, scoring a clean point.
Murayama froze.
"...Wait, what?"
She stepped back, lowering her weapon. "You couldn’t even hold your stance a minute ago."
"I’m figuring it out," I said, shrugging.
She narrowed her eyes but wasn’t angry—more curious than anything. "You’ve been holding back."
"No, this is genuinely my first ti sparring with soone." She stared at for a minute.
"You’re weird." Her eyes were slightly narrowed. I shrugged.
We reset. The second round went faster. My movents were smoother, more deliberate. Not perfect, but no longer fumbling. I blocked twice, circled with proper footwork, and landed another clean strike, this ti to her shoulder.
From the side, Katase tilted her head slightly, watching with quiet interest.
After the round ended, Murayama took a step back, breath a little heavy. "Okay. You’re definitely weird."
I offered a small smile. "Told you I was figuring it out."
"I’m not going easy next ti."
Katase approached, already lifting her shinai. "Mind if I go next?"
"Not at all."
She bowed, I bowed. The match began.
Katase didn’t waste ti. Her strikes were efficient and varied, her posture clean. I managed to hold my own for a while, even traded a few counters. But eventually, she slipped past my guard and landed a clean hit just under my ribs.
We paused. She stepped back and smiled.
"You improving fast," she said. "Murayama wasn’t exaggerating."
"I’m still catching up," I said, waving my hand in front of my face. "Trust ."
Murayama stood nearby, arms crossed, watching intently. "He got better between matches. That’s not normal, right?"
Katase glanced at , then back to her. "Not that fast. Most people need weeks to make that kind of progress."
"I had to step it up or I’d fall behind," I said. "I wanted to make it at least a little challenging for you. Better than a complete novice right?"
Murayama raised an eyebrow. "You’re lucky you caught holding back."
"Or maybe you’re just used to being the strongest one here," I replied lightly.
Her cheeks puffed out slightly. "Don’t get cocky."
Katase chuckled softly. "I think he’s more surprised than we are."
Murayama tilted her head. "So what made it click, then?"
I hesitated. "Honestly? I don’t know. Sothing just... slotted into place."
Murayama squinted at , then pointed her shinai. "Next ti, we go full power."
"Looking forward to it."
We ran more sparring rounds, alternating partners. We spent the rest of the ti sparring, and lost track of ti, probably about two hours straight with small breaks here and there. My movents beca more fluid each ti. More reactive, more intuitive. And the girls noticed. Both of them comnted on it—sotis teasing, sotis genuinely impressed.
I didn’t win any more matches, but I definitely made the two girls work for their wins. In our last match, Katase and I were exchanging sword blows, side-stepping, blocking, as before. Again, sothing clicked. I noticed a small opening in her guard. I countered her next blow, and with a subtle shift and flick, I struck her ribs just below her breasts. Glad the opening wasn’t higher. I might have felt bad.
She was stunned. "No way! How do you keep getting better?!"
Murayama walked up. "That’s what I would like to know. It’s uncanny." I shrugged.
"It just feels, natural. It helps that I’m pretty observant." I dab my face with a towel.
Katase crossed her arms, shinai dangling from her hand. "Natural? More like a prodigy." I shifted uncomfortably. Not like I could tell them I had a system advantage. I smiled awkwardly instead.
Eventually, Kurogane called the final match of day, signaling the end of the session.
The three of us stepped off the mat together, gathering our gear.
Murayama wiped her forehead with a towel and leaned over slightly to stretch her legs. "Well, you survived your first day."
"Barely," I said. "You two didn’t make it easy."
"Didn’t say we were supposed to," she replied with a grin. "But you kept up. That’s saying sothing."
Katase nodded. "Most people can’t adjust like that on day one. You’re interesting. And like Murayama said, weird."
I rubbed the back of my neck. "Thanks? I guess? I’m just trying to keep up."
"Well keep doing that," Katase said, slipping her towel over her shoulders. "Tuesday’s session is going to be tougher."
Murayama perked up. "And longer. We do extra drills midweek. Don’t flake. Would hate to lose our new sparring partner."
"Wouldn’t dream of it."
We left the dojo together, the evening air pleasantly cool on my heated skin. I was surprised when we all ended up turning down the sa street. Murayama looked over, eyebrows raised slightly.
"Oh? You’re going this way too?" she asked curiously.
I nodded. "Yeah. My place is just a few blocks down. What about you two?"
Katase adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "We live nearby, just past the corner store on Asahi Street."
"Oh, that’s really close to mine," I said. "Guess we’ll walk together for a bit."
Murayama grinned playfully. "Lucky you."
We walked in comfortable silence for a mont before Katase spoke up.
"So, Toshio, how old are you anyway? You look a bit older than us."
"I’m fifteen," I replied casually. "I just moved to Kuoh not too long ago." Not really true for this body, but they clearly didn’t rember ever seeing him. And technically, I really did just move here. Just spiritually.
"Fifteen? Oh, so you’re just one year above us," Katase said thoughtfully. "Where’d you move from?"
"Overseas," I answered vaguely. Not entirely true, but explaining reincarnation from another reality wasn’t exactly casual conversation. "It’s been a bit of an adjustnt, honestly."
Murayama tilted her head. "Well, welco to Kuoh, then. But why start kendo now? Most people join earlier when they’re younger. It’s kind of unusual for soone to jump in this late."
I considered her question carefully. "Honestly? I’ve always been interested, but I was pretty busy with other things before moving here. This is the first chance I’ve really had to dedicate so ti to it. Plus, I figured it was a good way to et new people."
Katase gave a small, approving nod. "I like that. It’s nice seeing soone actually motivated. A lot of new mbers drop out quickly."
"Yeah, well, I’m not planning on going anywhere," I assured her.
Murayama’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Good. It’d be disappointing if our newest mber vanished right after showing promise."
I smirked lightly. "Well, after today, how could I not want to spend more ti with both of you?"
Katase paused mid-step, eyes briefly widening in surprise, and Murayama gave a sideways glance, her cheeks lightly flushing. Wait, what did I just say?
"Ah, I ant—you know—spend ti around the dojo, not, um..." I stumbled over my words as realization sank in. "Sorry, that probably sounded different than I intended."
Murayama laughed, though she looked away quickly, clearly embarrassed. "Careful there, Toshio. You’re gonna give a girl the wrong idea talking like that."
Katase nodded, smiling softly. "It did sound a little like you were flirting."
I raised my hands defensively. I hated causing misunderstanding like these. "Definitely not my intention. I was just talking about kendo, promise." I really am not good at this.
Murayama’s grin widened. "Relax, we’re just teasing you. But if you start throwing lines around like that at school, you’ll be breaking hearts in no ti."
I chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of my neck. "Not really my style. I usually try to keep my foot out of my mouth." Also read, ’I used to make an active effort to not talk ever.’ I never noticed the slight heat co to my cheeks.
Katase giggled lightly. "For what it’s worth, you made quite the first impression today, intentional or not."
Murayama glanced at again, her expression more thoughtful now. "Yeah. You’re pretty interesting, Toshio. We don’t usually et guys our age who actually take us seriously."
"You both seem pretty serious about it yourselves," I replied earnestly. "I admire you both. It’s part of what makes sparring with you so much fun."
Another pause. Another awkward silence. Damn it.
Murayama elbowed Katase playfully, smirking. "Hear that, Katase? He admires us already."
Katase just smiled warmly, unfazed. "Well, the feeling’s mutual."
Thankfully, before I could make a fool of myself any further, we reached the intersection at Asahi Street. Katase stopped first, turning to face . Murayama slowed down beside her, adjusting the strap on her bag.
"Looks like this is our stop," Katase said gently.
"Guess so," I replied, a little relieved and disappointed simultaneously. "Thanks again for the spars today. I really enjoyed it."
"Sa here," Murayama said, her tone unusually sincere. "I’ll be looking forward to Tuesday’s rematch."
" too. Have a good night, you two."
"See you at the next practice," Katase said with a small wave.
I waved back as they turned away, heading down the street toward their hos. Watching them go, I took a slow breath, letting the lingering embarrassnt and amusent settle.
Well, if making friends involved sticking my foot in my mouth occasionally, I suppose I could handle that. At least things wouldn’t be boring. And practice makes perfect. I suppose they can be my training partners in more ways than one before I et Rias and her peerage. Wait, I ant as friends to socially interact with!
I sighed.
Smiling faintly, I continued walking ho, the warmth of the evening air blending pleasantly with the unnoticed, subtle heat on my cheeks.
Once we parted ways and I got over my ntal turmoil, I finally pulled up my system screen, walking back to my place on autopilot.
{New Skills Unlocked:
Swordsmanship (Rank 2)
Footwork (Rank 1)}
A mont later, the system chid again.
{Skill Fusion Available:
[Footwork] [Running] → Agility (Rank 1)
Fusion will replace original skills. Proceed?
[Y/N]}
"Yes."
{New Fused Skill Created:
Agility (Rank 1)
Combines advanced footwork and cardiovascular training to improve coordination, balance, burst movent, and sustained speed. This skill increases movent efficiency and combat responsiveness across all physical engagents.
Stat Affected: Hoho increased to Rank E.}
{Fusion Bonus Applied:
The successful fusion of ditation and Reiryoku Manipulation has refined your spiritual core.
Base Reiryoku increased by 100.
Current Reiryoku: 800/800}
I stopped walking.
"...Hoho is E-rank now."
I stared at the screen for a long mont.
Then I let out a low breath, the weight of the day finally starting to settle. I briefly took notice of my base reiryoku, happy that cultivating last night increased my base by 90.
"Not bad for a first day. Progress feels good."
XXX
After finishing my workout, dinner, and a shower, I felt refreshed—physically tired but ntally sharp. My Exercise skill had hit Rank 3 during today’s workout, and the difference was imdiately noticeable. Every muscle felt more defined, more responsive. My breath ca easier, recovery smoother, and growth more pronounced. It was rewarding, proof that my training wasn’t going unnoticed by the system.
As I sat on my yoga mat preparing to cultivate, my thoughts drifted naturally to Murayama and Katase. Sparring with them had been a genuine highlight of the day. It was strange to think about how little screen ti they actually had in the original canon. Just side characters, mostly background fanservice and occasional codic relief. Yet in person, they were more vivid. Murayama’s confidence and fire, Katase’s cool strategy—they felt real now, like actual people with aningful lives beyond their minimal roles. It really hamred ho that this is a real world now, not just main characters on a screen.
It made wonder, was there potential to change their paths? Could their futures diverge significantly because of my presence? I wasn’t sure if that would be good or bad, but it was sothing to keep in mind. Still, I looked forward to getting closer to them, to learning from their talents and refining my own in the process. Maybe they could even be my first friends in this world. Making friends is certainly not my forte, but I’m going to try my best. A person doesn’t grow unless they are out of their comfort zone after all. I hope I get a charm skill or sothing. That would make interactions so much easier.
I thought back to my day at the kendo dojo as a whole. I actually had a lot of fun. It was a little rough at first, but as soon as my new skills hit, it changed the ga. Improving on the spot, actually winning a couple of spars, seeing Murayama and Katase’s shocked expressions... yeah I definitely can’t wait for the next session.
During my initial orientation, I rembered Hideki’s explanation of the dojo ranks, a standard dan-kyu system. Six levels of kyu (6th being the lowest, 1st highest), with master ranks starting from 1st dan to the highest attainable 8th dan, which can only be held by the dojo master. Murayama and Katase were both 3rd kyu. It was impressive considering their age, showing dedication and natural talent. I had so ground to cover, but with my growth rate, I wasn’t worried. I wonder what rank they’d be at the start of canon? Considering they basically led the Kendo club, I’m willing to bet at least 2nd or 3rd Dan.
Only then did I realize I hadn’t used observe on anybody in the dojo. I was so hyperfocused on my activities there I didn’t even think too. That ’doing dumb things while being smart’ resonated again. My inventory screen popped up by itself. My sword flashed once. My eyebrow twitched. My head (sohow) gained a tic mark. I quickly recovered and tried to steady myself again and closed out the nus. I certainly didn’t glare at my Zanpakutō before doing so. You can’t prove it.
Exhaling softly, I turned my attention inward, easing into Cultivation.
Tonight would be a little different, though. I didn’t just want to circulate reiryoku through my body. I wanted to project it—convert it into Reiatsu. I needed to externalize my spiritual energy and feel that pressure tangibly affecting the environnt around . I needed to be like Kenpachi. Well, maybe not need, but how cool would that be?
Ti passed in focused stillness. Instead of circulating energy within, I ntally pushed it outward, imagining the waves of my reiryoku extending beyond my skin. It felt awkward at first, like trying to consciously control sothing that had always moved passively within . Two hours of deep concentration passed, and just when I was beginning to feel frustration—
Ding.
A system notification appeared.
{New Skill Unlocked: Reiatsu Externalization (Rank 1)
Allows the user to consciously project their internal reiryoku outward as reiatsu—spiritual pressure capable of suppressing, intimidating, or even incapacitating beings with lower mana reserves or lower levels.
Passive Effect: Uncontrolled reiatsu leakage will now occur until mastery is achieved.
Base Reiryoku increased by 100.}
A surge of power was quickly tempered by imdiate alarm. Uncontrolled leakage?
I felt it instantly, a pressure radiating outward uncontrollably. A beacon to every supernatural being in Kuoh. I grimaced, urgency gripping my chest. If I couldn’t control this imdiately, I’d attract unwanted attention far too soon. I didn’t want to be like Ichigo.
My next task was clear—containing this leakage.
I focused hard, envisioning my reiatsu wrapping around like a thin, invisible barrier, pulling it tightly to my skin, well, as well as I could. It was like trying to contain a ball of fire with just your hands. Minus the burns. Hours slipped by unnoticed, and before I realized it, dawn approached. Soon after, another notification finally appeared.
{New Skill Unlocked: Reiatsu Control (Rank 1)
Allows precise regulation and masking of reiatsu leakage. Greater mastery at higher ranks allows more subtle and comprehensive concealnt.
Base Reiryoku increased by 100.}
Another prompt imdiately followed:
{Compatible Skills Detected.
Fusion Available: [Reiatsu Externalization] [Reiatsu Control] → Reiatsu Manipulation (Rank 1)
Fusion will replace original skills. Proceed?
[Y/N]}
"Yes," I said instantly.
{New Fused Skill Created: Reiatsu Manipulation (Rank 1)
Grants complete control over external spiritual pressure—allowing both the controlled suppression of others and more advanced masking of the user’s own presence.
Base Reiryoku increased by 200.}
Another notification chid pleasantly.
{Fusion Bonus Applied:
Additional 100 Base Reiryoku granted.
Current Base Reiryoku: 1110/1110}
My excitent barely had ti to settle before a new prompt appeared:
{Compatible Skills Detected.
Fusion Available: [Reiryoku Manipulation] [Reiatsu Manipulation] → Reiryoku Dominion (Rank 1)
Fusion replaces original skills and significantly enhances overall mastery and control of spiritual energy.
Proceed?
[Y/N]}
"Yes," I confird again. This was getting ridiculous.
The sensation this ti was overwhelming—like a gate inside had swung fully open.
{New Fused Skill Created: Reiryoku Dominion (Rank 1)
This skill represents a foundational mastery over spiritual energy, vastly improving the user’s control, harnessing, and externalization of reiryoku. As the skill increases in rank, it gradually grants the user absolute command over both internal and external spiritual pressure (Reiatsu). Internally, this mastery allows for more precise regulation and distribution of reiryoku within the body, significantly improving efficiency in physical enhancent, healing, and spiritual energy-based abilities. Externally, the user gains the ability to project and manipulate their reiatsu deliberately, creating spiritual pressure capable of suppressing, intimidating, or even incapacitating weaker beings. At higher ranks, Reiryoku Dominion will enable complete concealnt of the user’s spiritual presence, as well as precise, overwhelming concentration of reiatsu against singular targets. Additionally, each rank greatly accelerates the ease and effectiveness of learning and mastering new spiritual techniques. Currently, control requires conscious effort, but with continued improvent, this dominion will eventually beco as effortless as breathing.
Base Reiryoku increased by 1000.
Spiritual Potential increased by one letter grade! D→C
Due to this skill, reiryoku regeneration is now significantly enhanced based on spiritual potential:
F: 1% per minute | E: 5% per minute | D: 10% per minute | C: 20% per minute | B: 35% per minute | A: 50% per minute | S: 75% per minute | SS: 100% per minute | SSS: 150% per minute}
{Fusion Bonus Applied:
Additional 100 Base Reiryoku granted.
Current Base Reiryoku: 2210/2210.
Spiritual Potential: C (20% reiryoku regeneration per minute)}
Incredible. My recovery rate was far beyond ordinary now. This was no longer rely a resource I’d have to manage carefully; it was a resource I could strategically exploit.
Yet there was a downside. My reiatsu was far stronger now, constantly radiating a significant spiritual presence, though thankfully not uncontrollably. Right now, my control was far from effortless; any supernatural being looking at could tell I had so degree of power. But I theorized based on the skill description that as my mastery increased, maybe at rank 10, I could suppress it completely, appearing indistinguishable from an ordinary human.
Additionally, my Reiatsu pressure currently extended only to a small localized radius around . But as the skill advanced, I imagined I could cover broader areas, maybe even project targeted pressure onto a single individual.
Curious, I experinted briefly, extending my Reiatsu outward again. Interestingly, it cost nothing—no drain on my reiryoku reserves. That was surprising but welco news, suggesting my Reiatsu was more a passive aura than an active expenditure.
Knowing the danger of my current state, I dove back into intense, ticulous cultivation, relentlessly working on fine-tuning this newfound dominion.
"I sure hope there’s no passing falling angels in the area."
The entire next day passed without pause, except for brief als. I barely noticed when new prompts appeared:
{Skill Rank Up!
Cultivation: Rank 3}
{Skill Rank Up!
Reiryoku Dominion: Rank 3
Base Reiryoku tripled due to Rank 3 effect.
Current Base Reiryoku: 6630/6630
Spiritual Potential: C (20% of base regenerated per minute)}
By the end of my daylong marathon, control felt significantly more natural, if not yet perfect. At Rank 3, I could prevent leakage easily enough, but true subtlety, perfectly masking my presence, still required conscious, hyperfocused effort. Further ranks would likely refine this.
Finally, after nearly twenty-four continuous hours, I felt genuine ntal fatigue. My mind needed rest, actual sleep.
Standing, I stretched, exhaustion finally catching up to . Before bed, though, I reflected with quiet satisfaction. Tomorrow, I would test out using my enhanced reiryoku to reinforce and enhance my body directly.
I smiled to myself as I lay down, closing my eyes. It had been a day of profound growth, deeper understanding, and clearer direction. For the first ti in days, I allowed myself the simple luxury of true sleep, letting myself drift into welco darkness, eager for tomorrow’s challenges.
Not surprisingly, no dreams ca to greet . They never do.
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