After Kurotsuki Renya came to live among the group of Rukongai orphans, he quickly found himself accepted as one of their own. Despite being trapped in a different world—and in one of the most chaotic districts of South Rukongai—he began to feel something unexpected: warmth. Safety. Hope.
This was because of the people around him. In a place that devoured the weak, they looked out for one another.
Among them, the one Renya had come to respect most was Abarai Renji. Despite his rough exterior, Renji was dependable—a protective older brother to the others, fiercely loyal and quick to laugh.
Rukia Kuchiki, too, had taken on a quiet leadership role. That night, after everyone lay down on their straw mats in the cramped shelter, Renya couldn't sleep. He kept his eyes slightly open and saw Rukia rise silently in the dark. She quietly checked on each of them, gently pulling their worn blankets over their shoulders. When she reached Renya, she hesitated for just a moment before tucking the edge of his blanket around him as well.
That moment stayed with him.
For the first time in a long time, Renya felt like he belonged somewhere. The ache of loneliness in his heart, ever-present since his arrival, finally began to fade.
The next morning, Renji stood outside, arms crossed, waiting. Once everyone had finished drinking their morning ration of Reishi-infused stream water, he clapped his hands and barked, "Alright, up and out! Time for training!"
The group gathered in the clearing beside their shelter, makeshift wooden swords in hand. Renji walked up to Renya and tossed him a rough-hewn practice blade.
"We're gonna start your spiritual training today," Renji said. "You've already shown you can draw in ambient Reishi, so we need to train your body and spiritual control together."
Renya caught the wooden sword and looked at it curiously. "What exactly are we doing?"
Renji smirked. "Kendo."
"Kendo?" Renya blinked. "You mean swordsmanship?"
"Right," Renji said, lifting his own wooden sword and resting it on his shoulder. "We're not nobles. We don't have fancy devices to stimulate Reiryoku growth, or tutors to teach us advanced Kidō. But there's one method passed down among Rukongai Shinigami hopefuls that works better than anything else—physical training through swordsmanship. It's how the early Shinigami trained before the Academy even existed."
Renya's eyes widened. "You can build Reiatsu just by swinging a sword?"
"It's not just swinging," Renji said, growing more serious. "Reiatsu comes from spiritual energy—Reiryoku—compressed within your soul. If you only absorb Reishi passively, your soul doesn't get stronger. But if you absorb while putting your body under strain, the soul adapts. It toughens. It compresses more Reiryoku—and that's how you increase your spiritual pressure."
Renya nodded. It was similar to how muscle training worked back in the human world. Stress, recovery, growth.
Renji continued, "Kendo uses the whole body—stance, posture, precision. And when you're taught to focus Reiryoku along the sword without letting it scatter, that's how you start developing control. We're not trying to become nobles. We're trying to become real Soul Reapers."
At that moment, Rukia spoke up, still mid-swing with her own wooden sword.
"A Shinigami who passed through here once told us a trick," she said. "When practicing, try coating your weapon with Reiryoku, but don't let any of it drift past the blade. That control is the foundation of being able to perform Kidō or elemental Zanpakutō techniques later."
She demonstrated. With a single strike, a faint shimmering line of spiritual energy followed the arc of her swing, kicking up dust as it carved a shallow groove in the dirt.
Renya's eyes widened. "That's…"
"It's not a technique," Rukia said quickly. "Just raw spirit energy manipulated through the weapon. Nowhere near as strong as something like Getsuga Tenshō. But useful for training."
Renya was intrigued. Getsuga Tenshō had been Ichigo's signature technique in the manga—a crescent-shaped blast of compressed energy. But that was tied to his Zanpakutō. What Rukia showed was more like raw control.
He bowed slightly to both of them. "Please, teach me."
Renji chuckled and stepped forward. "Alright then. First thing's the grip."
He demonstrated with his sword. "Always use two hands. Since you're right-handed, your left hand goes at the bottom of the hilt. Use your little, ring, and middle fingers to wrap around. Don't let the hilt stick out."
Renya followed the motion with his wooden practice sword.
"Good," Renji said. "Now place your right hand above it—not too tight. Just guide the blade. The dominant hand shouldn't squeeze too hard. The left hand controls the strength, the right hand controls direction."
Renya nodded, adjusting his grip. Renji walked a circle around him and corrected his posture.
"Keep your shoulders relaxed. Chest up. Feet shoulder-width apart. Hold the sword just in front of your lower abdomen. Elbows slightly bent, but not floppy."
After a few tweaks, Renya stood straight and balanced.
"You're gonna hold that stance for as long as you can," Renji said. "Don't move. Just focus your breathing, draw in Reishi, and keep your spiritual energy circulating."
"That's all for today?"
"That's all," Renji said. "Tomorrow we start movement drills. For now, hold the stance."
Renya gripped the wooden sword and fixed his gaze forward, determined. But after just a few minutes, his arms began to tremble. Fatigue crept in quickly.
The weapon felt heavy. His shoulders ached.
He lowered the sword, panting slightly.
"Don't stop," Rukia called from nearby. "If you feel sore or tired, that's exactly when you keep going. You're not made of flesh—you're made of spirit particles. Fatigue won't cause lasting harm unless your soul fractures. And your Reiryoku will heal that if you focus."
Renya blinked. Of course—he wasn't in a human body. This was his soul. Pain was real, but recovery was different.
Gritting his teeth, he raised the sword again.
The fatigue returned. His arms shook. Minutes passed. At the seven-minute mark, his hands were numb. At ten minutes, the wooden blade slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground.
He dropped to one knee, breathing hard.
"Now," Rukia said calmly, "focus. Draw in ambient Reishi. Let it enter your body and repair what was strained."
Renya closed his eyes. He opened his spiritual senses, drawing in the surrounding energy like threads pulled into a web. Slowly, the strain in his arms began to fade. The tingling in his muscles softened. The spiritual structure of his soul was knitting itself back together.
At the same time, he could feel something else: a slight condensation within. A densifying of the energy in his core.
The beginnings of true Reiatsu.
It wasn't much—but it was there.
He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes.
"I see," he murmured. "This is how it starts…"
If he continued like this, day after day, absorbing Reishi while under pressure—his soul would grow tougher. His Reiryoku would expand. His Reiatsu would rise.
He wouldn't just become a Soul Reaper.
He would become a powerful Soul Reaper.
And maybe, just maybe… one capable of changing fate itself.