Training

The world of meditation was deep and tranquil. Liu Hao slowed his breathing and cast his awareness like a fine net into the chaos within him. At first, there was only silence and the lingering ache of overworked muscles. Undeterred, he patiently "listened," trying to catch the elusive "unique rhythm" Nakamura-sensei had spoken of.

Gradually, an exceedingly faint sense of "pulsation," so subtle it was almost imperceptible, flickered at the edge of his awareness. It was neither his heartbeat nor his blood flow, but more like a deeper tide originating from his soul itself. Delighted, Liu Hao was about to concentrate on touching and following that glimmer—

"Huff... snore... huff..."

A bout of heavy, rhythmic snoring, with even a touch of nasal resonance, brutally tore through the newly established quiet like a discordant, battered gong!

Liu Hao's eyes flew open, a vein throbbing at his temple as he looked toward the source of the noise. Renji Abarai was still sitting cross-legged with his sword in hand, but his head had tipped to one side, his mouth hung slightly open, and his chest rose and fell steadily. He was sleeping so deeply and soundly that Liu Hao could even make out a trace of drool.

"..." Liu Hao stared at him in silence for a few seconds, then finally sighed helplessly and abandoned the idea of shaking him awake to demand an explanation. He rubbed his somewhat stiff neck, stood, and walked over to the window.

Outside, evening at Shin'ō Academy was peaceful and serene. The courtyard was neatly trimmed, a few figures dotted the distant training ground, and the setting sun had dyed the horizon a warm orange-red. But he had no time to appreciate it now.

That momentary sensation... though it had been interrupted, the feeling had been real. Deep within him, something long dormant seemed to have been gently stirred by his clumsy attempt at meditation and had begun to "awaken" at an exceedingly slow pace.

It was not an outpouring of power. It was more like dormant roots sensing the breath of spring and beginning to extend with infinite patience deeper into the soil. He could even vaguely tell that, although his Reiatsu had not changed noticeably during that brief meditation, a tiny bit of the fatigue in his body—his spiritual body—seemed to have been washed away. An indescribable sense of fullness from within trickled in like a stream, filling the emptiness left by the intense training.

Is this... what it feels like to directly strengthen the soul's origin? Liu Hao thought. It's so faint it can almost be ignored, and it may be far less efficient and immediate than training the spiritual body, just as Nakamura-sensei said, but... the direction seems right. Besides, this feeling of "looking inward" and "guiding" isn't entirely unfamiliar to me.

He stood by the window for a long time, until Renji's snoring went from loud to steady, then from steady to faint. He turned and walked back to his bed, sat cross-legged again, and laid the Asauchi across his knees.

This time, he was mentally prepared. Rather than immediately trying to catch the faint pulse, he first relaxed his mind, taking in every sound around him like a sponge—the wind outside the window, indistinct voices in the distance, and... that long, stubborn snoring. He no longer treated the sounds as disturbances, but as part of the background, like stones in a stream.

It was a difficult process. Whenever his awareness began to sink inward, the snoring seemed to grow louder, threatening to drag him back to reality. He failed again and again, and again and again he started over.

After an unknown length of time, he finally found a peculiar balance. His awareness was like a buoy on the surface of the water: the upper half remained awake and conscious of the outside world, snoring included, while the lower half slowly sank into a deeper inner silence that belonged to him alone.

In this state, he resumed meditating. He no longer deliberately "searched" for anything, simply maintaining that relaxed awareness, half inward and half outward. Slowly, he felt a subtle change in the air around him.

The thinly dispersed Reishi that had been floating freely began to gather slightly toward his body, moving so slowly it was almost impossible to perceive. Rather than rushing toward him, they seemed to be drawn by a gentle pull, like dust settling on a damp surface.

The Reishi he attracted did not immediately flow into his body. Instead, they lingered on its surface, as though probing for an "entrance." Liu Hao kept his breathing steady and made no active attempt to draw them in.

Gradually, the purest, gentlest Reishi began to seep through the "barrier" of his skin and into his spiritual body, one tiny wisp at a time. The process was exceedingly slow, like water soaking into a sponge, and caused neither impact nor discomfort.

The Reishi that entered him were not quickly mobilized and consumed as they would have been when casting Kidō or fighting. Instead, in a more fundamental manner, they slowly merged with every "cell" of his spiritual body.

This fusion was not a forceful injection of energy. It was more like nourishment and reconstruction, making the most basic units of Reishi that formed his spiritual body denser and more vibrant.

Liu Hao himself felt no sense of "control" over the process. He could not even clearly "see" or "guide" the precise flow of the Reishi. He was more like a spectator, a "field" that allowed it all to happen. All he could feel was a steady, continuous "strengthening" taking place at the most minute level, like a plant growing silently in the night.

After this peculiar state of meditation, half dreaming and half awake, inwardly still amid external disturbance, had continued for an unknown length of time, a vague, distant sense of a "call" surfaced without warning in the depths of his awareness.

It was not a sound, but something more like... resonance? A faint stir from deeper within him, or... from the cold Asauchi on his knees? Liu Hao tried to concentrate on "listening" and distinguishing it, but the sensation was too elusive. Like a candle flickering in the wind, it flashed and vanished, leaving only faint uncertainty.

Immediately afterward, an external disturbance became clear—someone was pushing his shoulder.

Liu Hao's awareness slowly rose as though from the depths of the sea, gradually gathering itself. He opened his eyes to find a face so close it was almost touching his own: an enlarged view of Renji Abarai's face, curious and a little sleepy.

Liu Hao instinctively leaned back, putting some distance between them. "What are you doing?!"

Renji Abarai straightened and rubbed his eyes, his face still flushed from sleep. "I was about to ask you the same thing! I called you for ages and got no response. I had to push you several times before you woke up! Were you asleep? And you said I was snoring. Looks to me like you slept even more deeply than I did!"

"You're the one who fell asleep!" Liu Hao retorted irritably, moving his somewhat stiff arms and legs. "I was in deep meditation! I'd just started to feel something when your snoring interrupted me! Then I finally managed to get back into it and adjust to your 'background music,' and you came over and pushed me!"

"I... I wasn't snoring!" Renji's face grew redder, and he craned his neck as he argued. "I admit I... I accidentally fell asleep for a little while, but I definitely didn't snore! Besides, when I woke up, you weren't moving at all. You couldn't hear me calling you, and you didn't respond when I pushed you. I thought something had happened to you!"

"That's because my meditation was deeper than you imagined!" Liu Hao rolled his eyes. "Do you know how hard it was to stay focused through your snoring symphony?"

"You... Hmph!" Unable to win the argument, Renji turned his head away in a huff, though the tips of his ears were still red.

"All right, all right." Liu Hao stood, feeling considerably more relaxed than before he had meditated. Much of that deep-seated fatigue had faded. "I won't argue with you. Isn't it time to eat?"

"We should've gone ages ago!" Renji jumped up too, and his stomach chose that moment to rumble, embarrassing him a little.

The two left their room and found Rukia already waiting in the corridor outside. She had changed into a clean student uniform and combed her hair, giving her a fresh, neat appearance. "You're slow," she said, glancing between Liu Hao and Renji. She seemed to notice a subtle "post-battle" atmosphere, but wisely refrained from asking further.

The three went to the student cafeteria together. It was spacious and bright, serving food that was simple but nutritious and rich in Reishi. To them, having come from Rukongai, it was already a feast. Once they had gotten their food and sat down, Rukia asked, "You tried meditating when you got back. How did it feel?"

Liu Hao swallowed a mouthful of rice and thought for a moment before answering cautiously, "There was... a tiny, very subtle feeling. It seemed like my body recovered a little faster, and I had a bit more energy. But I'm nowhere near being able to say I've gotten stronger."

Renji immediately chimed in, sounding a little discouraged and defiant. "I didn't feel anything! I just sat there and... got tired, and then... well." He glossed over the fact that he had fallen asleep. "Anyway, I think Itō-sensei's direct way of training is more exciting!"

Rukia nodded thoughtfully. "I tried it for a while. Once I concentrated, I really could settle my mind more easily, and the restlessness after training faded quickly. But as for my Reiatsu increasing or my body getting noticeably stronger... I didn't feel anything like that either. I think I felt a little of that 'subtle feeling' Liu Hao mentioned, but I'm not sure if it was just my imagination."

"Yeah, I only felt it vaguely too," Liu Hao agreed. "It really is inefficient. It can't compare to training the spiritual body directly. Nakamura-sensei was right: it's more like a supplement, or... a way to lay a foundation? At least, it seems to have made my perception of my own Reishi a tiny bit sharper."

After eating, the three wandered around the academy to help digest their meal, acquainting themselves with its tranquil nighttime scenery. In the end, without a word between them, they found themselves at the training ground again. Though their bodies were still somewhat sore, the afternoon's meditation seemed to have dispelled some of their deeper fatigue, leaving them eager to train further.

Without a teacher urging them on, they began kendo sparring on their own. They took turns attacking and defending, the crisp clack of wooden swords echoing across the empty training ground. Sweat soaked their clothes once more, and their breathing grew heavy, but the light in their eyes only grew brighter.

There was something enthralling about relying purely on their own efforts and feeling themselves improve little by little. They trained until the moon stood high overhead and their strength was completely spent, then dragged their tired but satisfied bodies back to the dormitory.

After washing up, Liu Hao did not rest immediately. He sat cross-legged again, laid his Asauchi across his knees, and entered a meditative state. This time, he settled into it a little faster than he had that afternoon. Perhaps because Renji had slept during the day, he was still fairly alert that evening. Seeing Liu Hao start again, he pursed his lips but sat down to imitate him, doing his best to fight off sleep.

The next day, academy life fell into its proper routine. Theory, Kidō, kendo, Hakuda, the basics of Shunpo... their schedule was packed.

In Kidō class, Nakamura Sōya handed out a thick volume—the Collection of Basic Kidō Incantations. It contained the chants for Hadō and Bakudō numbered one through ninety-nine, as well as some special Kidō. The volume smelled of ink and old paper.

"Kidō is a set of techniques based on Reiatsu, woven through specific Spirit Incantations and hand gestures to produce various effects," Nakamura Sōya explained. "When you lack proficiency, or when you seek precision and power, a complete chant is essential.

The Spirit Incantations in this volume are the crystallized wisdom of countless Soul Reapers who came before us. Every syllable corresponds to a specific arrangement of Reishi and a pattern for directing energy. After class, you must memorize the Spirit Incantations for the first three numbered Hadō and Bakudō. They are the foundation for next week's practical lesson."

He explained in detail the principles behind activating Kidō, the key points of Reiatsu output and control, and the importance of mental concentration while chanting. During the question period, most students asked how to avoid the backlash caused by mispronouncing Spirit Incantations and how Reiatsu of different attributes affected Kidō.

Before class ended, Nakamura Sōya assigned homework and announced, "Tomorrow morning's class will be practical Kidō at the Third Training Ground. Bring your volumes. Also, for tomorrow's kendo and Hakuda classes, Itō-sensei wants you to bring your own Asauchi to practice the basic stances. You will still use wooden swords for sparring. All right, class dismissed."

The students gathered their things and headed for the kendo training ground out of habit. Having learned their lesson the day before, everyone lined up and collected their wooden swords much faster, and their formation was considerably neater.

Itō Shōta appeared on time. Seeing the students already standing in formation, he gave a grunt of acknowledgment. "More basics today! Jōdan-gamae, hold it! Five hundred cuts! Proper form, plenty of power! Begin!"

The tedious, grueling repetition began again. Sweat, aching muscles, and Itō-sensei's roars set the tone for training. Two hours later, the basic exercises ended, and Itō Shōta ordered them to spar in pairs.

"Use what I taught you! Don't just wave your swords around like a bunch of women! Watch your footwork! Watch your timing! Your opponent's attacks are your best teacher!" He moved among the sparring students, his gaze sharp as lightning, pointing out mistakes as they occurred. Occasionally, he stepped in to demonstrate himself. His swift, fierce attacks often knocked a student flat in a single move, drawing a chorus of gasps.

When the bell rang to mark the end, Itō Shōta called a halt. He glanced over the students, who were slumped every which way but now had a faint trace of fierceness in their eyes. "That's enough for today," he said gravely. "Remember to bring your Asauchi tomorrow. Practicing the basics with your future partner feels different. Now get lost!"

The days flew by in that intense, fulfilling rhythm, alternating between sweat and meditation. Liu Hao, Renji, and Rukia settled into a routine: during the day, they gave their all in every class; at night, Liu Hao meditated without fail, while Renji and Rukia did so intermittently. Sometimes, before bed, they also practiced kendo a little longer or reviewed Kidō Spirit Incantations. Like three greedy sponges, they desperately absorbed every piece of knowledge that could make them stronger.

Shin'ō Academy's curriculum gradually unfolded. Besides the four required foundations of swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat, movement, and Kidō, as well as elective Kaidō, there were academic courses on Soul Society history, the types and habits of Hollows, Seireitei regulations, and an introduction to noble lineages.

Liu Hao listened particularly attentively in history and regulations, trying to understand how this world worked from what he learned. The noble lineages course, meanwhile, brought a certain thought in his mind into increasingly clear focus.

One evening, about two months after enrollment, Liu Hao did not return directly to the dormitory or go to the training ground for extra practice as usual. He left the academy alone and spent a long time wandering the streets on the outskirts of Seireitei, apparently asking about something. Only when it was completely dark did he hurry back and go straight to Rukia, who had just finished evening study and was preparing to return to the dormitory.

"Rukia, there's something I want to tell you." Liu Hao looked somewhat serious as he drew her to a relatively quiet spot beneath a covered walkway.

"What is it?" Rukia looked at him in confusion.

Liu Hao weighed his words and said slowly, "I was outside today and... heard some rumors. About Captain Byakuya Kuchiki of Squad Six's wife, Lady Hisana Kuchiki."

Rukia blinked, plainly not understanding what that had to do with her.

"The rumors say Lady Hisana came from Rukongai and has always been in poor health. And she... seems to have been searching for a younger sister she lost many years ago." Liu Hao watched Rukia's eyes, his voice very soft. "I happened to see a portrait on a very old missing-person notice issued by the Kuchiki Clan... It was blurry, but the little girl's features and bearing... looked a lot like yours."

Rukia's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. A trace of bewilderment flashed through her violet-gray eyes, only to be overtaken by vehement denial. "Liu Hao, what are you talking about...? Lots of people look alike. We came from Inuzuri in District 78. How could we possibly... have anything to do with a great noble family like that? It's absurd."

"I heard that Captain Byakuya Kuchiki overrode everyone's objections back then and married Lady Hisana, who came from Rukongai. It caused a huge sensation in Seireitei at the time." Liu Hao's tone grew urgent and earnest. "So your background doesn't make it absolutely impossible. Rukia, I just think... what if? What if it really is true? There are plenty of people who know the rumors about Lady Hisana's poor health.

"If... if she really is your sister, and you miss the chance to reunite because you think it's 'impossible'... how much would you regret it when you learned the truth someday? And for her, if she couldn't find her closest family in what may be the little time she has left to live, what a regret that would be."

Rukia fell silent. She lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes. Liu Hao's words were like a pebble dropped into the lake of her heart, stirring ripples she had never dared touch. Sister... the word was distant and unfamiliar to her.

During those years in Rukongai, when they never knew whether they would survive from one day to the next, survival had been the only concern. Blood ties were a luxurious, impractical fantasy. But deep down, had there not been even a trace of secret longing for "family"? Especially after her companions had died one after another...

"I..." Her voice was a little hoarse. "I don't know... This is so sudden."

"You don't need to know anything. Just meet her and find out." Liu Hao pressed his point. "If it's a misunderstanding, the worst that can happen is a wasted trip and a little ridicule. But if... if it's true, then you'll have another blood relative in this world, a sister who truly cares about you and has been looking for you. And..." He paused, lowering his voice further. "If it really is true, think about it. The Kuchiki Clan... what would that mean? It wouldn't just mean family, but powerful backing and support you might never have imagined. It might change the course of many things in your future."

Liu Hao put that last point extremely obliquely, but Rukia understood its practical implications. In the rigid hierarchy of Soul Society, the advantages and protection that came with noble status were beyond the reach of people like them from Rukongai.

After struggling with it for a long time, Rukia finally raised her head, her expression conflicted, and nodded. "All right... I'll go. Just meet her and find out."

Liu Hao breathed a sigh of relief. "There are no required classes tomorrow afternoon. We'll ask for permission to go out."

The following afternoon, Liu Hao and Rukia informed their homeroom teacher, Nakamura Sōya, and left Shin'ō Academy. Following the directions they had been given, they came to the vicinity of Squad Six's headquarters.

As a squad led by a noble, Squad Six had headquarters that looked especially grand and imposing, with high white walls and massive gates. Two Soul Reaper guards stood at the entrance, their postures straight and expressions stern. Their Reiatsu was restrained, yet they had an intimidating presence of their own.

Liu Hao took a deep breath and led the somewhat nervous Rukia forward.

"Stop!" The Soul Reaper guard on the left held out a gloved hand to block them. His gaze swept sharply over their pale-blue Shin'ō Academy uniforms, and his voice carried an impersonal chill. "Squad Six headquarters. Unauthorized persons may not approach. Shin'ō students? What do you want?"

Liu Hao stepped half a pace forward and bowed slightly, doing his best to sound respectful without being subservient. "Greetings, senior. We're first-year students in Shin'ō Academy's elite class. We've taken the liberty of coming here to... request an audience with Captain Byakuya Kuchiki."

"An audience with the captain?" The Soul Reaper guard raised an eyebrow and looked them up and down, paying particular attention to their plain bearing, which clearly marked them as coming from Rukongai despite their academy uniforms. A barely perceptible trace of contempt crossed his eyes. "The captain is busy. Do you think just anyone can see him? Whatever it is, report it first. The squad members in charge of paperwork will handle it."

Liu Hao remained bowed and spoke clearly. "It's like this, senior. We heard that Captain Kuchiki's wife, Lady Hisana Kuchiki, has spent many years searching for her younger sister, who went missing long ago.

"And this classmate of mine happens to be named Rukia, and... she bears some resemblance to the sister Lady Hisana is said to be looking for. We wouldn't presume to jump to conclusions, but knowing Lady Hisana is in poor health, we were afraid that missing even the slightest possible lead could cause lifelong regret. So we took the liberty of coming here, hoping Lady Hisana or the captain might meet her and determine whether it's true."

His explanation was reasonable, and Liu Hao felt he had been sufficiently humble. Yet after hearing him out, the Soul Reaper guard showed no intention of passing the message on. Instead, his lips curled into an undisguised sneer.

"Heh... Rukia? A brat from Rukongai thinks she deserves that name?" His voice was icy with mockery. "I've seen plenty of people trying to latch onto the powerful. You make up a similar name, find some vague so-called 'resemblance,' and think you can worm your way into the Kuchiki Clan? And bringing up Lady Hisana's health is practically a curse! Since you two are Shin'ō students, leave right now and I can pretend I never heard this nonsense. Otherwise..." He put his hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist. Though he did not release his Reiatsu, the threat was unmistakable.

Rukia's face instantly turned pale, not from fear, but from the sting of his undisguised contempt and insults. She clenched her fists instinctively.

Liu Hao straightened. The respect vanished from his face, replaced by calm gravity. He looked the Soul Reaper guard in the eye and spoke each word distinctly. "Senior, no matter how you choose to interpret our motives—whether we're trying to latch onto the powerful or indulging ignorant delusions—we'll leave today. We won't make a scene here."

He changed tack, his tone becoming clearer and more forceful. "But I ask you to think this through carefully. We came based on definite rumors and a cautious attempt to verify a possible family connection.

"If you let your personal prejudice stop you from reporting this, and one day the truth comes out and Captain Kuchiki or Lady Hisana learns that two young people claiming to match the clues came here, only to be roughly turned away by you for 'trying to latch onto the powerful,' and that a possible chance at a reunion was missed... especially if Lady Hisana is left with that regret because of it..." He did not finish, but his meaning could not have been clearer.

The Soul Reaper guard's expression changed slightly. Liu Hao's words were like a thorn, pricking at possibilities he did not want to consider too deeply. In the rigid hierarchy of Seireitei, especially when serving a top noble family like the Kuchiki, the consequences of any possible oversight—particularly one involving the lady of the house's wishes—might be more than he could bear.

But he could not bring himself to back down immediately. He merely snorted, blustering to conceal his unease. "Alarmist nonsense! Get lost!"

Liu Hao said no more. He gave the guard a long look, then turned and took Rukia by the wrist. "Let's go."

Pulled along by him, Rukia stumbled. She looked back once more at the forbidding gates and the guard's shifting expression, her eyes full of resentment, humiliation, and a deeper trace of bewilderment.

Only after they had gone a long way and were completely out of sight of Squad Six's headquarters did Liu Hao slow his pace. He could feel Rukia's hand trembling slightly.

"Don't pay attention to someone like that," Liu Hao said quietly, his voice cold. "He's just a noble family's watchdog, barking loudly. What matters is that we came and delivered the message. Whether he reports it, and how, is his business and his karma."

Rukia remained silent for a long time before giving a soft "Mm." She looked up at Liu Hao, complicated emotions in her violet-gray eyes. "Liu Hao... thank you. And... I'm sorry you got dragged into this and were..."

"Don't be silly." Liu Hao cut her off and patted her shoulder. "We're companions. Besides, I don't think... we did anything wrong. Let's leave the rest to fate."

The two walked toward Shin'ō Academy in the afternoon sunlight. Behind them, their slender but upright shadows stretched along the long white-stone street.

The heavy noble gates remained shut behind them, but a seed called "possibility" had quietly been planted in the gatekeeper's heart by Liu Hao's final words. Whether it would sprout, and what fruit it might bear, only time would tell.

And the mystery of Rukia's origins and the lofty Kuchiki Clan seemed to have been gently drawn together by an invisible thread because of this brief, unpleasant encounter.