Kazuma relaxed in a nearby chair with a small cup of sake in hand, a warm smile gracing his features.
"Right there," he instructed, his voice steady. "Hold that stance. Do not move."
A short distance away, Kōga Kuchiki stood with his muscles trembling under the strain.
Sweat soaked through his Shihakushō, yet he fought to maintain the grueling posture.
"Master, I have been holding this exact position for half the day," Kōga groaned, the exhaustion clear in his voice.
Kazuma let out a low chuckle.
"Just hold on a little longer. Your current strength is undeniable, but your physical foundation remains hollow. We are rebuilding that foundation from the ground up so you can push past your limits." He raised his cup, taking a slow sip.
Kōga drew in a ragged breath and gritted his teeth, forcing himself to endure the burning ache in his limbs.
He knew he had to push through the pain if he ever wanted to reach the pinnacle of a true Shinigami.
Noting the fierce determination in Kōga's eyes, Kazuma nodded in silent approval.
'The kid is persistent. He has held out this long, pushing himself even harder than I did at his age.'
Setting his sake aside, Kazuma rose and circled his disciple.
He studied Kōga's form with a critical eye, stepping in to adjust the angle of a shoulder or the bend of a knee to perfect the stance.
The hours slipped by, the sun dipping low toward the western horizon.
Through it all, Kōga kept his jaw locked tight, fighting the violent tremors in his muscles to remain still.
As the final rays of sunset cast long shadows across the training grounds, Kazuma offered a nod of satisfaction.
"That's enough for today."
Kōga exhaled a massive breath of relief.
He shot Kazuma a look of pure gratitude before collapsing onto the dirt. "Master, I feel like my body is going to shatter! Just holding that stance almost turned my arms and legs to lead."
"Stellar Sanctuary." Kazuma tapped the hilt of Hokushin Raitei against Kōga's shoulder.
A surge of soothing stellar Reishi flowed into the young noble, washing away the brutal physical fatigue in an instant.
"Ahhh."
Feeling life return to his limbs, Kōga let out an involuntary groan of comfort. "Master, I have to admit, this ability of yours is absurd! It's the ultimate tool for a war of attrition, my muscles feel fine, but my mind is completely fried!"
"I'm just giving you a temporary boost," Kazuma said, patting the boy's shoulder. "Training is supposed to drain you. You either pay with physical exhaustion or mental exhaustion; you cannot escape the toll. We resume tomorrow morning."
"Huh?" Kōga's face contorted in misery. "Master, can I not at least get one day of rest?"
"No." Kazuma's rejection left no room for argument. "Training is like rowing a boat against the current; the moment you stop pulling the oars, you get pushed backward. If you surrender to the fatigue today, you will look for an excuse to quit tomorrow. I will not allow that."
Kōga gritted his teeth, knowing his master was right. "Understood, Master."
Kazuma offered a warm, approving smile.
"That's what I want to hear. Head home and get some sleep, tomorrow, we move on to something new."
...
The next morning, golden sunlight flooded the Kuchiki estate.
After a hasty breakfast, Kōga sprinted toward the Seventh Division barracks. His chest buzzed with excitement, his steps light and eager for the day's lesson.
Stepping through the barracks gates, Kōga found Batsu'unsai buried in paperwork inside the captain's office.
He scanned the room for his master but found it empty.
"Mistress, where did Master Kazuma go?" he asked.
Batsu'unsai set her brush down and sighed with an exasperated smile. "That lazy pig is still dead asleep in bed! He's always like this, giving me a constant headache. Why are you here so early today, Kōga?"
"He promised to teach me something new today," Kōga explained, a bright spark of anticipation in his eyes.
"I was so excited I came over the second the sun came up."
Batsu'unsai shook her head with a fond chuckle. She poured a cup of fresh tea and handed it to the young noble.
"Drink this first. I will go drag that worm out of his futon." She marched toward the inner chambers, fully prepared to ruin Kazuma's peaceful morning.
Kōga accepted the cup, blowing on the steaming surface before taking a sip.
The rich aroma and the heat of the tea brought a moment of calm to his racing thoughts, yet the burning desire to begin his training only intensified.
In the bedroom, Batsu'unsai pinched Kazuma's ear and twisted. "Wake up, you lazy pig! Kōga is already here waiting for you."
"Ow, ow, ow! Let go!" Kazuma winced, rubbing his stinging ear. "Why is that kid here before the roosters? It's a crime to disturb a man's sweet dreams!"
"You promised to teach him a new technique today! Why else would he show up at the crack of dawn? Now get out of that bed!"
Kazuma dragged himself out of the futon with a dramatic sigh. "If I knew having a disciple meant giving up my sleep, I would have let Yamamoto deal with him."
...
A short while later, out on the training grounds, Kazuma faced his eager student.
"Kōga, today we focus entirely on Zanjutsu."
"Zanjutsu? Are you going to teach me a custom sword style?" Kōga asked, slightly puzzled. "The Kuchiki clan's traditional forms are already considered the pinnacle of the Soul Society."
"A sword style? What is the point of memorizing a rigid dance?" Kazuma rolled his eyes. "You're just as naive as I was backthen, i asked the Captain-Commander that exact same question centuries ago, and he gave me a reality check."
"Do you know why I forced you to hold that basic stance until your muscles gave out yesterday?" Kazuma's tone turned dead serious.
Kōga shook his head, unable to grasp the connection.
"I'm not gonna waste my time lecturing you. I will demonstrate it once. With your natural talent, a single look should be enough. Watch closely." Kazuma shed every ounce of his usual laziness.
He stood still, his hand resting on his hilt.
In a blur of seamless, fluid motion, he drew his blade, delivered a devastating vertical slash, and sheathed the sword with a sharp click.
'Unbelievable speed. I could not even track the trajectory of the blade,' Kōga thought, his heart pounding against his ribs.
'The moment he drew the sword, it felt like I was staring into the jaws of a primeval beast. No matter where I dodged, that single strike would have cut me in half.'
A realization began to dawn on him.
Kazuma strolled over to the edge of the training field, picking up the breakfast bento Batsu'unsai had packed for him.
"Take your time. Think about what you just felt, and tell me when you figure it out."
Before Kazuma could even finish his rice, Kōga broke the silence.
"Master, I understand."
"Let's hear it."
"You made me practice the stance to forge my killing intent. By fusing my Spiritual Pressure with that absolute presence, I can lock an opponent in place through sheer pressure alone. When the mind and blade move as one, rigid forms become obsolete. No matter the enemy, a single, flawless slash is all it takes to end a life. Therefore, memorizing complex sword dances is pointless."
Kazuma grinned around a mouthful of food. "You live up to your title as a genius..... i will pass down the exact advice the old man gave me."
"Predefined forms and sword styles will only shackle the speed of your blade. In a real fight, they are nothing but an inconvenience." Kazuma pointed his chopsticks at the training dummy.
"So, today's objective is simple... one thousand vertical swings."
Kazuma remembered the sheer agony he felt when Yamamoto subjected him to this exact brutal training.
Passing the torture down to his own disciple felt absolutely fantastic!