The Art of Concentration

Early morning.

Morning sunlight had already filled Hu's room.

Fon Shaoling sat upright beside the small tea table in the corner. She held a celadon teacup in her hands, steam still rising from the matcha inside.

Fon Shaoling took a sip of tea, a faint smile on her lips. "The weather's lovely today."

Across from her...

Hu sat cross-legged on the bed, Jiku'a laid across his knees, practicing Zanjutsu meditation. It was a habit Cilian had recently made him develop: every night before bed and every morning after waking, he had to "chat" with Jiku'a for a while.

Of course, calling it a chat was generous. Most of the time, he got beaten up...

Inner World.

Above the crown of the enormous Demon World Tree.

Sounds of fighting rang out again and again.

One man wore a simple, sharp-looking black samurai outfit. Opposite him stood a man in a blue coat with golden embroidery, his white hair slicked back and his face stern. Each held an identical Zanpakuto.

Jiku'a stood there with one hand on the hilt at his waist. Then he flashed forward.

A streak of blue light flashed before Hu's eyes.

He instinctively turned sideways, and Jiku'a's blade swept past his cheek. Hu stepped back with the movement, drawing his sword with his right hand and slashing horizontally—

Jiku'a had already withdrawn his sword and casually blocked the attack.

"Too slow."

Hu gritted his teeth and clenched his left fist. Beowulf's light instantly covered his knuckles. He drove a punch straight at Jiku'a's face—

Jiku'a flickered and vanished from where he stood. The next moment, Hu felt a chill behind him and instinctively rolled forward. Jiku'a's blade cut through the spot where he had just been standing.

"Too messy."

Hu steadied himself and took a deep breath.

He knew this was a mandatory daily lesson.

He charged again.

Blades flashed, fists and feet clashed. Hu attacked from every angle, sometimes with Beowulf's fierce straight punches, sometimes with Jiku'a's sharp slashes, and sometimes with a combination of both. He flickered across the treetop like a tireless beast.

As for Jiku'a—

Jiku'a remained in the center, barely moving at all.

He swung his sword and blocked; turned sideways and dodged; raised his hand and counterattacked. Every movement was as simple as it could be, without a single wasted motion. He neutralized each of Hu's attacks with the smallest movement possible, while every one of his counterattacks forced Hu to respond with everything he had.

After who knew how long, Hu was driven back once again. He dropped to one knee, gasping for breath.

"Wait."

Jiku'a lowered his sword and looked at him.

"Every time you counterattack... aren't you hitting harder than I do?"

The corners of Jiku'a's mouth rose slightly.

"You finally noticed?"

Hu stared at him.

"So you really have been sneaking in extra power to beat me up?!"

Jiku'a sighed and even rolled his eyes.

"That's not called 'sneaking in extra power,' and it's not to beat you up," he said. "It's a combat technique."

Hu blinked.

Jiku'a walked up to him and looked down at him.

"Every Zanpakuto has its own ability and a skill to go with it. Take Ichigo Kurosaki's Zangetsu. Its accompanying skill is 'Getsuga Tenshō,' and Zangetsu also has a unique fighting technique that involves grabbing the strap at the end of its hilt and swinging the sword out."

He paused.

"The same goes for me. You don't automatically learn every technique just by achieving Shikai. You need to study and master them."

Hu looked thoughtful.

"Then that thing you were doing just now..."

"That's called 'Concentration,'" Jiku'a interrupted. "It's a core combat mechanic inherited from that man."

He turned his back on Hu and gazed at the distant city.

"By cutting out unnecessary movements, adjusting your posture, and compressing your Reiatsu, you make every attack faster and deadlier. It's like building up potential energy. The more deeply you compress it, the stronger it is when released."

Hu stood up and tried adjusting his posture.

"You have to improve the rate at which you build it up and the intensity of your Reiatsu compression through constant practice." Jiku'a didn't turn around. "And if you can maintain 'Concentration,' keep it up all the time—"

He turned his head and looked at Hu.

"Your physique will keep growing stronger, and your perception and reflexes will improve along with it."

Hu's eyes lit up.

"Keep it up all the time? Like... a passive skill?"

Jiku'a nodded.

"In theory, you can be in a state of 'Concentration' every moment of every day. Of course—"

He looked Hu up and down, a mocking smile on his lips.

"The way you are now, I doubt you could last a few minutes. You dart around like a fly when you fight, without any of Vergil's style. How could you possibly build up momentum when you squander your Reiatsu like that?"

Hu: "..."

He wanted to argue, but when he thought about how badly he had just been beaten, he felt there wasn't much he could say.

"All right." Jiku'a put away his sword. "That's enough practice for today. Once you're out, try to maintain that feeling you just had."

Hu nodded.

The scene before his eyes began to blur.

When Hu left his Inner World, Jiku'a was still lying across his knees, and the sunlight outside the window was a little brighter than before. He instinctively adjusted his breathing, trying to maintain the state he had just been in inside his Inner World, when he suddenly caught the faint scent of tea. Hu opened his eyes and saw Fon Shaoling sitting opposite the small tea table.

Today she wore a light-blue kimono with faint cloud patterns embroidered on the cuffs. Her hair was tied back as usual, and she looked as though she had stepped out of a painting. The room was quiet, save for the occasional birdsong outside the window. Sunlight streamed in at an angle, falling on Fon Shaoling and bathing her kimono in a soft glow.

Hu suddenly felt that the scene was a little unreal.

"Sha... Shaoling!? What are you doing here? When did you get here?"

"A little while ago." Fon Shaoling took a small sip of tea. "I saw you were still practicing Zanjutsu meditation, Ye Xing, so I didn't disturb you. Instructor Cilian is on leave, so someone had to come wake you, didn't they?"

Hu still felt that the scene was a little unreal.

"Stop spacing out." Fon Shaoling set down her teacup and rose. "If you're done with Zanjutsu meditation, get up. You still have Kidō class today."

The moment Hu heard the words "Kidō class," he felt awful.

The densely packed pillars of books from yesterday, the countless titles, the suffocating feeling of being surrounded by books—all of it came flooding back. He shuddered instinctively, and his state of Concentration instantly fell apart. His breathing returned to its usual rhythm, and his body slumped.

Fon Shaoling paused midstep.

She turned to look at Hu, a flicker of puzzlement in her golden eyes.

"Your breathing... it just changed."

Hu also stopped.

"During Zanjutsu meditation, your breathing rhythm changed. It became very steady and long." Fon Shaoling walked back over to him. "But just now, it went back to the way it was before."

Hu hadn't expected her to notice, and a flutter of romantic excitement stirred in his heart.

"Well..." He scratched his head. "It's a technique of my Zanpakuto's. It's called 'Concentration.'"

"Concentration?"

"Yeah." Hu briefly repeated what Jiku'a had told him. "Basically, you adjust your breathing and compress your Reiatsu to keep your body in a... prime state for attacking. The longer you maintain it, the more your physical condition improves."

Fon Shaoling listened and nodded thoughtfully.

"So, in theory, you should try to maintain it as much as possible?"

"That's what Jiku'a said."

Fon Shaoling looked at him, and her lips suddenly curved into a smile.

"That works out perfectly."

"What does?"

"I'll keep an eye on you during Kidō class." Fon Shaoling's tone was cheerful. "Changes in your breathing rhythm are still very noticeable to me. If you slack off, I can remind you right away."

Hu's heart was still fluttering. His face grew slightly warm, and he answered without thinking:

"Sure, sounds good."

Only after the words left his mouth did he realize what he had agreed to.

He had to maintain "Concentration" while memorizing all those densely packed books—

Two hours of Kidō class had just turned into two hours of hell mode.

Fon Shaoling looked at his foolish expression and chuckled softly.

"Then it's settled. Let's go."

The pillars of books still filled the Kidō practice room.

Hu sat at a desk with three books as thick as bricks piled in front of him: "Basic Theory of Hadō," "The Relationship Between Reishi Composition and Kidō," and "The Essentials of Incantations."

Fon Shaoling sat behind the lectern, wearing glasses and leafing through a book.

"Let's begin," she said without looking up. "First, memorize chapters one through three of 'Basic Theory of Hadō.' I'll quiz you in an hour and a half."

Hu took a deep breath.

Adjust his breathing, compress his Reiatsu, and maintain "Concentration."

He opened the book and began reading the first line.

"Hadō is Kidō that channels energy composed of Reishi through an incantation and releases it outward..."

His breathing was steady.

His gaze moved across the lines, every word imprinting itself clearly in his mind. He found that he was memorizing things faster and retaining them better than yesterday—the words seemed to be sucked into his mind, and he could remember them without reading them over and over.

"Very good." Fon Shaoling's voice came from the lectern. "Keep it up."

Hu didn't look up and continued reading.

Ten minutes later.

His breathing began to quicken slightly, and his attention started to wander. The densely packed words swam before his eyes like a swarm of crawling insects.

"Ye Xing, mind your breathing."

Fon Shaoling's voice rang out at just the right moment.

Hu abruptly came to his senses, adjusted his breathing, and pulled his attention back.

Twenty minutes.

Thirty minutes.

Forty minutes.

"Mind your breathing."

"Your breathing."

"Your breathing!"

At intervals, Fon Shaoling's voice rang out, pulling him back from the brink of losing focus.

Hu didn't know how he survived that hour and a half.

When Fon Shaoling said, "Time's up," he sprawled across the desk like a puddle of mud.

"Finished memorizing chapters one through three?" Fon Shaoling walked over.

Hu nodded with difficulty.

Fon Shaoling opened the book and asked a few questions at random. Hu answered each one. Though his voice was weak, all his answers were correct.

"Not bad." Fon Shaoling closed the book. "Rest for ten minutes, then continue."

Hu lay across the desk, not wanting to move at all.

At lunch, Hu felt like he had come back to life.

Though he had been put through the wringer that morning, the food still tasted good. He wolfed it down, then suddenly remembered Shimizu.

He put down his bowl and headed for the medical room.

Pushing open the door to the hospital room, Hu saw Shimizu standing beside the bed, one hand braced against its edge and the other supported by a woman as he slowly walked around the room.

The woman wore a plain, light-purple kimono, her hair pinned up at the back to reveal her gentle profile. Her movements were light, every step matching Shimizu's pace, as though she were tending to something precious.

Hearing the door, both turned at the same time.

"Hu!" Shimizu's eyes lit up.

The woman bowed slightly, a gentle smile on her face.

Hu walked over and looked Shimizu up and down.

"You're looking well."

"Not bad." Shimizu smiled. "I'm still not very steady on my feet, though. The doctor said I need to stay in bed a few more days, but I really couldn't lie there any longer."

He glanced at the woman beside him, a hint of bashful pride in his eyes.

"Oh, right, this is Keiko."

Keiko bowed slightly to Hu, her movements graceful and proper.

"Lord Ye Xing, I've heard so much about you. Shimizu said you saved his life. Thank you so very much."

Hu hurriedly waved his hands.

"No, no, we're friends. It was only right that I helped. And don't call me 'lord,' either. Just call me Hu."

Keiko gave a soft laugh.

"All right, Hu."

Hu looked at her, then at Shimizu, and suddenly thought the two of them looked quite well suited standing together.

"How have you been these past two days?" Shimizu asked. "I heard you were with Instructor Sakiro, training all afternoon yesterday?"

Hu plopped down into a chair nearby and let out a long sigh.

"Don't even mention it. I fell I don't know how many times yesterday. The last time, I almost thought I was done for. But—"

He raised his head and grinned.

"I passed in the end. The walking assessment."

Shimizu's eyes lit up.

"Really?! Congratulations!"

"Of course." Hu lifted his chin proudly. "I was a complete mess, but I passed."

Keiko covered her mouth and laughed.

Shimizu laughed too.

"Then all you have left is the Kidō assessment, right? Do your best."

Hu's smile instantly collapsed.

"...Don't remind me."

Seeing his expression, Shimizu laughed even harder.

"What, is it difficult?"

"It's not a question of difficulty." Hu covered his face in anguish. "It's memorization. So, so many books. Shaoling's teaching me herself. I just memorized three whole chapters this morning, and I nearly threw up."

Shimizu looked at him sympathetically.

"Then... do your best?"

Hu lifted his head and gave him a resentful look.

"You don't sound sincere at all."

Keiko burst out laughing beside them.

The three of them chatted for a while. Shimizu talked about how painful rehabilitation had been these past two days, how every step felt like needles were stabbing the soles of his feet. Hu talked about how many times he had fallen yesterday, and how he had nearly given up after the last one.

Keiko listened quietly beside them, occasionally handing them a cup of water or laughing softly. Her movements were always gentle, as though she were afraid of disturbing something.

Finally, Hu stood up.

"All right, I have to get back. I've got Kidō class this afternoon."

Shimizu nodded.

"Do your best. Once I've recovered, let's go fishing together."

Hu smiled.

"Sure, it's a deal."

He walked out of the hospital room, the sound of Shimizu and Keiko speaking softly drifting after him.

Warm sunlight fell on him, and Hu suddenly felt that everyday life like this was pretty good too.

That afternoon's Kidō class was still hell.

Hu sat at the desk with a different batch of books in front of him—Bakudō Explained and History and Development of Kidō.

Fon Shaoling still sat behind the lectern with her glasses on, a book still in her hand.

"This afternoon's goal is chapters one through four of Bakudō Explained," she said. "Let's begin."

Hu took a deep breath and opened the book.

"Bakudō is a type of Kidō that uses energy composed of Reishi, guided through an incantation, to bind and restrain a target..."

The two hours that afternoon were just as long as those that morning.

When Fon Shaoling said they were done, Hu slumped over his desk once again.

He suddenly remembered Shimizu telling him to do his best.

How was doing his best supposed to solve this?

By the time he came out of the Kidō practice room, the setting sun had already stained the horizon red.

Hu followed Fon Shaoling back to his room, saying little along the way, his head buzzing.

At the door, Fon Shaoling stopped.

"Remember to do your Zanjutsu meditation tonight too," she said. "I'll be back tomorrow morning."

Hu nodded.

"One more thing." Fon Shaoling looked at him. "You did very well today."

Hu: "..."

Fon Shaoling gave a soft laugh, then turned and left.

Hu pushed open the door and threw himself onto the bed.

After lying there for a while, he got up and laid Jiku'a across his knees.

Before closing his eyes, a question suddenly occurred to him—

Instructor Cilian had gone on leave.

Where would he go on his leave?

At the same time, in the Seireitei.

The last rays of the setting sun fell across the clean streets, and the sounds of squad members assembling to return came from the distance. Cilian walked alone along the stone-paved road, his single arm held behind his back, his steps unhurried.

He had just passed through the court gate and entered the Seireitei.

In four hundred years, he had walked this road countless times. But this time, it felt a little different.

He walked all the way to his squad barracks and pushed open the familiar door. Without stopping, he crossed the room and pushed open the door to the training hall.

It was a small dōjō, its wooden floor polished to a shine and several wooden swords hanging on the wall. A meditation cushion lay in the corner, where he usually meditated.

Cilian walked to the center of the dōjō and stopped.

He lowered his head and looked at his right arm.

There was nothing there; his sleeve hung empty.

He raised his left hand and touched his left eye.

It had been over a hundred years.

He took the box from inside his robes.

"Experimental Potent Flesh Supplement—Prototype"

"A single injection can fully regenerate severed limbs and damaged organs in a short time. Side effect: intense pain."

Cilian looked at the words, his single eye betraying no emotion.

He opened the box and took out a transparent syringe. The liquid glimmered faintly blue in the last rays of the setting sun, like some kind of slumbering power.

Cilian sat on the cushion and placed the syringe in front of him.

He looked at it.

The little princess's face appeared in his mind. From the little girl who followed Yoruichi around to the Soi Fon of today.

Cilian picked up the syringe.

He rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a thin, withered arm. Veins were faintly visible beneath the skin, like rivers buried deep in the years.

He did not hesitate.

The needle pierced his skin.

The cold liquid slowly entered his vein.

At first, he felt nothing.

Then—

The pain came.

A tearing agony surged from deep within his marrow. It was as though countless blades were twisting inside his body, as though every bone were breaking and knitting itself back together, as though every cell were screaming.

Cilian's single eye flew wide open.

His hand gripped the floor tightly, his nails digging into the gaps between the boards. Veins bulged on his forehead, and sweat instantly soaked through his clothes.

But he made no sound.

He only clenched his teeth tightly, letting the intense pain ravage his body.

He did not make a single sound.

The sun sank bit by bit, and darkness gradually enveloped the training hall.

In that darkness, there was only a hunched figure, trembling silently.

For a long, long time.