Bleach: The Fifth Division Captain

After arriving at the Second Division and settling in temporarily, two months had passed.

Though a mere moment compared to the lengthy lives of Shinigami, the intensity of training during this short time left a lasting impression on Seiya.

"Too slow!"

"At this level, I, Yoruichi Shihōin, won't acknowledge you!"

"Your movements are way too big—tighten them up! Imagine you're a rat in the gutter—pull in your claws and teeth!"

"Yes, that's the right rhythm… The Shihōin style prioritizes speed, but before you can run, you need to learn how to walk."

"What? You're asking why I wasn't this strict before?"

"Of course, it's because you've gotten stronger!"

Though technically a compliment, it didn't feel rewarding at all.

Seiya never expected to revisit the fundamentals of movement under Yoruichi's tutelage.

During this period, he was constantly lamenting his predicament.

According to lore, the Shihōin family's style drew inspiration from the traits of "ninjas."

Stealth, intelligence gathering, and assassination—these tasks were different from a Shinigami's standard duties. With such a standard imposed on Seiya's training, it was no surprise he struggled.

This felt akin to being completely remade, shedding his old identity.

Seiya had tried voicing his reluctance, but Yoruichi insisted that it was a necessary process.

"My Shunkō isn't something you can learn so easily. If you want me to teach you, you'll have to follow my method."

By this point, Seiya had no choice but to bite the bullet and agree.

Yoruichi's special training sessions lasted a grueling ten hours daily.

Sometimes, the training didn't even stop at night—she would barge in unannounced, kicking Seiya awake without a hint of apology and mock him with a laugh.

"You don't even have a shred of vigilance. If you were born into the Shihōin family, you'd already be relegated to the branch family."

Do you treat your own family this harshly too? Seiya often wanted to retort but held back after seeing Yūshirō's plight.

About twenty days into the training, Yūshirō took over the evening sessions, teaching Seiya the basics of Shunkō.

Compared to Yoruichi, who relished in teasing and tormenting him, Yūshirō's calm and patient demeanor was an absolute breath of fresh air.

"Don't get me wrong—I'm just helping out for a bit," Yūshirō explained.

"Shunkō's adaptability is incredibly high because of the way Sister designed it."

"Once you fully grasp the basics, you'll be able to develop techniques that suit you."

This wasn't surprising.

After all, Sui-Feng created her Infinite Shunkō, Yoruichi had her Raijin Form, and Yūshirō himself had techniques like Bakuen Musō during the Thousand-Year Blood War arc.

These were all derivatives of the original Shunkō.

It was a testament to Yoruichi's genius—she had created a technique so flexible and robust that it birthed countless variations.

"Seiya, are you paying attention?"

Yūshirō's voice snapped Seiya out of his thoughts.

Seiya looked up, seeing the concerned expression on Yūshirō's face. He quickly offered an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, my mind wandered for a moment…"

"Is Sister's training too intense? Should we take a break?"

"No, I'm fine. Let's continue."

Thanking Yūshirō for his concern, Seiya watched as the young man turned and resumed the lesson.

Seeing Yūshirō's sleeveless training attire reminded Seiya of something. Shunkō's energy concentrated on the back, so practitioners often wore lightweight, sleeveless clothing.

The result? A distinctive "exposed" look for Shunkō users.

It brought Seiya's mind to a cultural relic of immeasurable significance: Sui-Feng's sideboob.

Truly the pride of the world's intangible cultural heritage…

Thankfully, Yūshirō was male, so Seiya felt no awkwardness around him.

Wait… Does this mean Yoruichi hasn't yet become the legendary "fanservice queen" of the future?

Seiya's earliest impressions of Yoruichi came from the anime. He clearly remembered her infamous scene:

Ichigo, injured and resting on a tatami mat. Yoruichi, shifting from her cat form to her human form—fully naked—casually squatting in front of him.

What exactly did Ichigo see back then?

Seiya was certain it must have been a magnificent view.

What could've happened to turn her into that fanservice queen later on?

After pondering for a while, Seiya concluded:

It's probably because she was exiled and started hanging out with Kisuke… they must've gradually escalated their antics.

Man, I bet there's a fascinating backstory there.

Of course, this wasn't the time to dwell on such thoughts.

Shaking himself out of his musings, Seiya took a deep breath and removed his shirt.

Though the Shihōin family had specially designed training attire for Shunkō, it seemed to be tailored for their family members. When Seiya tried wearing it, it was too small—his navel was fully exposed, giving him a "postmodern exhibitionist" vibe.

Uncomfortable with the outfit, he chose to train bare-chested instead, keeping only the lightweight pants.

Seeing this, Yūshirō blushed and averted his gaze, mumbling to himself about how bold Seiya was.

Bro… you're a guy too. What's with that reaction?

Despite the awkwardness, the training paid off.

Under Yoruichi's rigorous regimen and Yūshirō's guidance, Seiya steadily advanced in mastering Shunkō.

His skill in Kidō also improved significantly during the process.

"While it sounds complicated, it's actually not that hard," Yūshirō explained.

"Reiatsu is just energy stored in the body. Once you form the right mental image, you can extract it."

"Then, using Kidō techniques, guide that energy to concentrate in your back and shoulders until it takes the desired form."

Standing a few paces away, Yūshirō demonstrated by straightening his posture and pointing to his shoulder.

"See? High-density spiritual energy shouldn't flow wildly. It should condense visibly on the back and shoulders."

To illustrate, Yūshirō shifted his stance, clenched his fist, and exhaled softly.

Seiya watched as the energy on Yūshirō's back surged forward like a living entity, flowing through his arm and releasing in a burst of heat and light.

The energy exploded into a brilliant display in the sky—a dazzling firework.

Yūshirō relaxed his stance, took a deep breath, and turned back with a cheerful smile.

"Sister taught me Shunkō, but I've modified it to suit my own preferences. What do you think?"

It didn't seem odd at all—quite the opposite. The customization made perfect sense.

While Yoruichi's derivative techniques focused on lightning, Yūshirō's leaned toward fire.

Even Sui-Feng's Infinite Shunkō exhibited wind-based properties.

Clearly, Shunkō's adaptability was extraordinary—three users, three distinct styles.

Still, compared to the captains in the original series, Yūshirō's current skills were underwhelming. His personality and inexperience made him ill-suited for leadership.

Perhaps, in another century, he'd mature into someone capable of leading.

For now, Seiya had to focus on his own growth.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on channeling his spiritual energy as Yūshirō instructed.

Taking a stance, he tried to condense the energy on his back. Spiraling streams of air began forming behind him, swirling with visible force.

While the process wasn't overly difficult, maintaining the balance required significant effort.

Yūshirō stepped closer, observing carefully.

"Relax a bit—if you're too tense, the energy will become rigid."

"Picture it as flowing water. Yes, that's better…"

Before Yūshirō could finish, an explosion erupted.

The gathered energy detonated violently, scorching Seiya's back. He collapsed to the ground, wincing in pain.

Yūshirō rushed over, but Seiya waved him off with a weak smile.

"I'm fine… really, I'm fine."

This was the challenge of mastering Shunkō: transforming raw spiritual energy into an aggressive force while maintaining its flexibility.

For today, Seiya had failed again.

Though frustrated, he understood this was a necessary process.

"Alright, let's call it a day."

"No problem—I'll fetch some ointment for your burns," Yūshirō said, hurrying off.

As Yūshirō left, a figure suddenly appeared and approached Seiya.

The newcomer was petite, seemingly a young girl in her early teens.

"Lord Yūshirō, allow me to handle this," she said in a crisp but commanding tone.

Lying on the ground, Seiya turned to see a girl in black ninja attire standing over him.

She had short, neatly trimmed bangs, with delicate and refined features.

Her expression, however, was severe—furrowed brows, tightly pressed lips, and a hint of sharpness in her demeanor.

Before Seiya could respond, she threw the ointment at him, hitting him square in the face.

"Is this little injury enough to keep you down?"

What an attitude.

Seiya sighed. "Could you be a bit more polite? I'm Yūshirō's friend, after all."

"Friend? No," she replied coldly. "You're just an academy intern."

She crossed her arms and began listing reasons.

"First, as a lowly student, you have no right to be at the Shihōin estate."

"Second, you're from Rukongai, and you hold no position in the Punishment Force or the Second Division. You can't tell me what to do."

"Third!"

She raised her brows sharply.

"I may come from a lesser noble family, but even that makes me far more legitimate than you!"

Wow, a hundred years ago, this girl was really something.

Nodding along, Seiya sighed dramatically as he sat up.

"Got it, got it… I'll be more careful next time."

"Lady Suzumebachi Rin."

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Powerstones?

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