The Kuchiki garden was silent, moonlight silvering the stones. Byakuya stood at the far edge, scarf trailing in the night breeze, his gaze colder than the water in the koi pond.
"You claim you wish to learn Hohō." His voice carried no doubt, only judgment. "But speed without will is meaningless. Resolve is the foundation. Tonight, you will prove if you possess it."
A pulse of Reiatsu swept out from him—cold, suffocating, noble. The air itself seemed to shiver. Akio staggered a step, knees threatening to buckle, but forced himself upright.
"You will run," Byakuya said simply. "Laps around the garden. You can't use your Reiyarku. You will not stop until I dismiss you. If you falter, if you collapse, if your spirit wavers even once—then you are unworthy."
Akio clenched his fists. The stone path stretched long and endless beneath the weight of that pressure. His chest was already tight, his muscles coiling in protest. 'No Reiyarku, no tricks—just me against his will. He's testing if I'll break. I won't. Rukongai taught me how to keep going.' He bowed his head once. "Understood… Captain Kuchiki."
He began to run.
The first laps were manageable. His breaths came steady, steps sharp. But with every turn, Byakuya's Reiatsu pressed heavier—like a mountain settling onto his shoulders. His vision swam, lungs burning, shadows clawing at the edge of sight.
'Stop… your body is breaking…' a whisper of weakness hissed in his mind.
He bit down hard, forcing another step. Then another. And another.
Byakuya watched silently, his expression unreadable. 'A reckless genius is not a genius. But a stubborn, iron-willed fighter is someone who could be polished into strength. So do you have the will, Kurozume Akio?'
The night dragged on. Sweat drenched Akio's robes, his legs trembled violently. Each heartbeat thundered like a war drum. More than once he stumbled, knees buckling—but each time he clawed his way upright, staggering back into motion. I' didn't survive District 78 to fold here. Keep moving.'
At last, after what felt like hours, Byakuya raised a hand. The crushing Reiatsu vanished. The air was suddenly weightless, and Akio collapsed to one knee, gasping raggedly but refusing to fall further.
Byakuya's eyes lingered on him, cool and sharp. "Crude. Inelegant. But…" For the faintest instant, approval flickered across his gaze. "…you did not yield. That is enough."
He turned, scarf fluttering as he walked away. "Report to me at dawn. Your true lessons begin tomorrow."
Akio bowed low, sweat dripping onto the stones. His chest ached, his body screamed… but his spirit blazed. 'I didn't stop here. And I won't ever stop.'
The dawn broke over the Squad 6 barracks, painting the garden in hues of gold and rose. Akio stood before Byakuya, muscles still sore but resolve unshaken. Shunsui was absent, likely nursing his sake elsewhere, leaving the garden's serenity to the Kuchiki captain's command.
Byakuya's voice was precise, a blade cutting through the morning calm. "Hohō is not mere movement—it is the mastery of space through will and discipline. Shunpo—Flash Step—is its foundation, a technique that compresses distance with Reiryoku. Beyond it lie Utsusemi, the decoy that weaves illusion from speed, and Senka, the strike that ends a foe in a single, flawless motion. Your trial proved your resolve; now, you will build skill upon it."
Akio nodded, his sharp blue eyes focused. Resolve got me through last night. Now it's about precision. Keep the shadows in check—don't let him see too much. "I'm ready, Captain."
Byakuya stepped forward, his haori rippling like water. "Shunpo begins with Reiryoku control. Channel it to your legs, envision your destination, and will the space to collapse." He vanished in a flicker, reappearing across the garden without stirring a single petal. "Demonstrate."
Akio focused, drawing Reiryoku to his feet. His first attempt was a clumsy lunge, more sprint than Flash Step, kicking up dust. Byakuya's voice sliced through: "Your Reiryoku scatters. Condense it—focus inward, not outward. Again."
Hours melted away in relentless drills. Akio's legs burned, but his steps grew lighter, Shunpo's basics taking root—short bursts of speed, each more controlled. Byakuya's corrections were unyielding: "Economy of motion. Every step must serve a purpose."
Next came Utsusemi. "Accelerate beyond perception, leaving an afterimage to deceive," Byakuya instructed. He blurred, his illusion lingering as his true form circled. "Release a fragment of Reiryoku to mimic your shape." Akio's attempt produced a faint, flickering shadow that dissolved quickly. "Too weak," Byakuya said. "The image must hold form. Practice until it fools the eye."
Then Senka: "A Shunpo-driven strike to the Saketsu and Hakusui—soul chain and sleep points—to sever a foe's power." Byakuya flashed behind a training dummy, a precise tap collapsing it. Akio's attempt was off-target, his speed faltering. "Accuracy is absolute," Byakuya said. "Miss, and you invite death. Refine it."
As the sun climbed, Akio drilled tirelessly. His Shunpo sharpened, Utsusemi's afterimages flickered longer, Senka's strikes grew truer. The dark threads in his Reiryoku wove subtly into his movements, enhancing deception without drawing Byakuya's notice. These shadows—they're like a second skin. If I master this, I could outmaneuver anyone.
Byakuya halted him as noon approached. "These are the foundations: Shunpo's efficiency, Utsusemi's illusion, Senka's lethality. Master them through relentless practice. In time, forge your own technique from these roots. Excellence breeds innovation." His gaze held a rare weight. "If you surpass my expectations, I will show you my own creation—a technique born of the Kuchiki legacy. It may grant you enlightenment. Rest now. You can return now and practice on your own. If you need guidance at any point you can come here and I will help you."
Akio bowed, sweat-soaked but exhilarated. "Thank you, Captain Kuchiki."
As Byakuya turned to leave, a soft voice called from the garden's edge. "Brother? Is the training finished?"
Rukia Kuchiki stepped forward, her black hair tied back, violet eyes wide with curiosity. Her robes bore the fresh Kuchiki crest, marking her recent adoption into the noble family. Byakuya's expression softened, almost imperceptibly. "Rukia, this is Kurozume Akio, a student under my temporary instruction. Akio, my sister, Rukia."
Akio's mind clicked. 'Rukia, fresh from Inuzuri, adopted after Hisana's death. She's out of her depth in this noble world, just like I was in Rukongai. I know her story—Renji, Hisana, the adoption—from the anime, but I can't let on. Build the connection naturally.' He bowed, offering a warm smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Kuchiki-san."
Rukia returned the bow, her smile tentative but kind. "You too. It's rare for Brother to train someone himself. You must be exceptional."
Byakuya nodded curtly. "I have duties. Rukia, escort him out if needed." He vanished in a flawless Shunpo, leaving the garden quiet.
Akio relaxed, sensing Rukia's unease. "Your brother's intense, but it's worth it. You new to the Kuchiki household?"
Rukia's gaze dropped to the cherry blossoms scattered on the path. "Yes… adopted recently. It's a lot to take in. I grew up in Inuzuri, District 78—Rukongai. It was… hard there. Starving days, dodging gangs, always looking over your shoulder. This place is beautiful, but it feels like I'm drowning in rules and stares."
Akio nodded, his tone soft but firm. "I know exactly what you mean. I'm from District 78 too—same streets, same struggles. Woke up there two years ago, fighting for scraps, sleeping with one eye open. But you survived it."
Rukia's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise. "You're from 78? And… yes, me and my friend Renji. We survived together, but it was never easy. We were suffering our way through Rukongai and I met Brother Byakuya. He adopted me for some reason, but… I don't fit here. The other nobles look at me like I'm dirt they can't scrape off."
Akio's jaw tightened, his own memories of Rukongai's cruelty surfacing. 'She's carrying the same weight I did—feeling like an outsider, judged for where you're from. Time to step up.' "Listen, Rukia, we're both from Inuzuri, so you're like my little sister now. Nobody gets to mess with you, okay? If anyone in this fancy house—or anywhere else—gives you trouble, you tell me. Since my teachers are Kyoraku Shunsui and Kuchiki Byakuya themselves, I will handle those nobles."
Rukia blinked, her violet eyes softening with a mix of surprise and gratitude. "You… mean that? I'm not used to people sticking up for me like that. Not here."
"Damn right I mean it," Akio said, his grin sharp but warm. "Rukongai taught us to watch each other's backs. Those streets were hell—cold nights, empty stomachs, knives in the dark. But we're still standing. That's our strength, and no one can take that away."
Rukia's lips curved into a small, genuine smile. "Thank you, Akio. It's… comforting to know someone else gets it. Maybe I'll take you up on that training offer sometime. I'm terrible at Hohō, and I could use someone who doesn't look down on me for tripping."
Akio chuckled, clapping her shoulder lightly. "You're on, little sister. We'll stumble through it together. And if anyone dares bully you, they'll answer to me."
As they walked toward the gates, sharing quiet stories of Rukongai's harsh nights and narrow escapes, a bond took root—two survivors of District 78, finding solace in shared scars and a promise to stand together in a world that judged them.
[End of Chapter]