"Kidō is a form of advanced spellcraft unique to Shinigami. It's divided into three branches: Hadō, Bakudō, and Kaidō."
"Hadō is for offense and destruction. Bakudō is for restraint and binding. Kaidō is used for healing and support."
"Today, we'll begin with Hadō."
In the Academy's wide training field, Ukitake Jūshirō stood before the class, calmly laying out the fundamentals in just a few concise sentences.
After all, anyone in this class was a once-in-ten-thousand prodigy. There was no need to repeat anything. Even hearing it once was enough.
Some, like Urahara Kisuke and the future Grand Kidō Chief Tessai Tsukabishi, were already grasping advanced principles just from context.
"Hadō #1: Shō."
Ukitake extended a finger. A pulse of spiritual pressure surged from his fingertip and blasted straight through a wooden training post ten meters away.
It was the most basic of Hadō spells—but in the hands of a seasoned captain, it was still devastating.
"If your spiritual power is strong enough and your control is precise, you can skip incantations altogether and cast spells directly."
"The same applies to Bakudō and Kaidō."
"Now, it's your turn. Practice freely."
After demonstrating both a full-chant and no-chant casting of Hadō, Ukitake stepped back and gave the class free rein.
He wasn't worried.
This group didn't need hand-holding. They'd deliver results on their own.
"Kidō, huh? Looks simple enough."
Lan Yan closed the book he'd been reading—an indexed compendium of Hadō and Bakudō spells from #1 to #60. He was just about to pick a training post and try one out when an annoyed voice rang in his head.
—Your Kidō is too proud to let you interfere.
—It says if you start training now, your Zanpakutō and Swordsmanship might mock it. In retaliation, it trained nonstop and successfully mastered every Hadō and Bakudō from 1 to 60.
Lan Yan froze mid-step, then quietly sat back down.
He had planned to train.
But apparently, his Kidō talent refused to let him.
Embarrassed at the idea of being "outdone" by the swordsmanship and Zanpakutō sitting metaphorically at the next table, it had preemptively maxed out everything.
Honestly, Lan Yan suspected it wasn't even a matter of effort—just that the book only listed spells up to #60. If it had gone to 99, Kidō probably would've finished those, too.
"Hadō #4: Byakurai."
"Hadō #11: Tsuzuri Raiden."
"Hadō #12: Fushibi."
...
All around the field, students were progressing at remarkable speed.
Ukitake looked around and was especially impressed by Tessai Tsukabishi. Despite being from Rukongai and encountering Kidō for the first time today, he was already casting Hadō up to level 15—with no incantation. And the spells were just as strong as fully chanted versions.
At this rate, he'd catch up to noble-blooded prodigies like Byakuya and Yoruichi in no time.
Talent like that couldn't be taught. Not even noble blood could compete.
"Hmm?"
As Ukitake scanned the field, his gaze stopped on Lan Yan.
He wasn't practicing at all.
Instead, he'd found a shady spot beneath a tree and was sitting there like it was a summer picnic.
"Lan Yan?" Ukitake called, walking over. "Is something wrong?"
"Is there something unclear about Hadō? Anything you'd like me to explain?"
He wasn't reprimanding him—no chalk-throwing or harsh words.
That wasn't Ukitake's style.
And besides, he knew Lan Yan's talent. The strongest genius in 2,000 years didn't just slack off for no reason.
"Thank you, Professor."
"But no, there's nothing I don't understand," Lan Yan said with a calm smile.
"Then… why aren't you practicing?" Ukitake asked, puzzled.
"Look around—everyone else is training. Even your brother. As the elder, you should set an example."
Ukitake genuinely thought Lan Yan might be getting arrogant, skipping basic training because he assumed it was beneath him.
Their exchange drew the attention of nearby students, including Urahara and Byakuya.
—Your Kidō insists it will handle the training itself. If you interfere, your Zanpakutō and Swordsmanship might laugh at it again…
"Honestly, Professor," Lan Yan sighed. "I want to train."
"But my strength… won't allow it."
"So if you don't mind, I think your time would be better spent helping those who actually need it."
He could tell that Ukitake wouldn't let it go otherwise.
So he leaned into the performance—just enough to make his point.
Let the professor focus on someone like Tōsen.
Lan Yan had already tried to negotiate with his overzealous Kidō stat multiple times.
But every time he even thought about practicing, it would leap up and scream, "Not your job!"
Worse, it threatened to strike if he interfered—said it would stop progressing entirely if it got laughed at by the sword or the Zanpakutō again.
What could he do?
He had no choice but to sit in the shade and let Kidō handle itself.
"What an arrogant brat."
"Even the Kuchiki clan, trained from birth in Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō, wouldn't say something like that."
"You'd better learn a little humility before it's too late."
Across the field, Byakuya paused his spellcasting, his fingers twitching in irritation.
So what if you're strong, Lan Yan? I'm not?
He could ignore a lot.
But when Lan Yan told Ukitake to "focus on the others,"… he snapped.
That was insulting.
"Thanks for the advice," Lan Yan said smoothly.
"But Kidō isn't about who trains first, or who trains more."
"Because there's one thing in this world that can't be faked—talent."
"It erases effort, time… and even your precious noble pedigree."
He looked at Byakuya with an amused smile, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to provoke.