Bleach: The Fifth Division Captain

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The rhythmic clash of wooden swords echoed through the spacious dojo, each impact reverberating like the chime of a distant bell.

Two figures darted across the floor, their movements swift and precise.

"Don't let your guard down! If you're forced to defend, put all your focus into predicting your opponent's every move."

CRACK!

Seiya's wooden sword struck Gin's hand, leaving a fresh red welt.

"Tighten your grip. The more you're attacked, the firmer you need to hold on. Otherwise, your last chance at survival will slip away, and you'll be left with nothing but defeat."

To emphasize his point, Seiya stepped forward with effortless speed and struck the same spot again.

CRACK!

The skin on Gin's hand swelled visibly, a deepening purple hue spreading beneath the redness.

"Your defense is too soft. Don't rely only on your arms—engage your waist! If you don't, your stance has no meaning."

Seiya advanced two more steps, lifting his wooden sword high before slashing downward.

Having already suffered multiple blows, Gin clenched his teeth, raising his own sword in an attempt to block.

This was exactly what Seiya had anticipated.

Shifting his weight slightly, Seiya turned his downward slash into a diagonal feint.

The swords met.

But rather than a solid block, Gin felt his weapon slip.

The angle was off—Seiya's strike had redirected his guard.

His grip loosened.

This is bad.

If he took that hit directly, it wouldn't be something he could just endure.

No choice.

He let go of his sword.

With his primary weapon gone, it seemed like the match was over—

But that was far from the truth.

His loose-fitting training uniform hid subtle movements as his left hand slipped into the folds of his sleeve.

A thin wisp of spiritual energy coiled around his fingers like a serpent.

Hadō #31: Shakkahō.

WHOOSH!

A gust of wind roared as a crimson sphere of energy erupted from his sleeve, streaking toward Seiya's face.

A mere four meters away.

A blind-spot attack, carefully planned.

A true killing move.

'Even if I skipped the incantation, I poured enough reiatsu into this shot.'

'Even for someone like you, taking a direct hit from this at close range—'

'No way you walk away unscathed.'

So… what now?

Faced with the incoming fireball, Seiya's expression remained unchanged.

As if everything was proceeding exactly as expected.

There was no surprise.

No hesitation.

Instead, he simply raised two fingers before him.

Bakudō #39: Enkōsen.

A pale yellow light shimmered into existence, forming a translucent barrier between them.

The two opposing energies met—Shakkahō's violent red flames twisting against the defensive Kidō.

They clashed, tangled, gnawed at each other—

And then—

The Shakkahō dissipated into nothing.

Gin's brow furrowed.

His strongest move had been blocked as if it were nothing.

That was bad.

Without time to gather more reiatsu, he had no choice but to retrieve his wooden sword.

But—

"Never stop moving, even while thinking. A break in your footwork is a fatal weakness. For example—"

A voice whispered directly into his ear.

Goosebumps prickled along his skin.

Instinctively, Gin tried to escape—

Too late.

A strike to the inside of his knee shattered his balance.

His body lurched forward uncontrollably.

Desperately, he tried to recover—

But a blur of movement cut through the air.

CRACK!

The wooden blade lashed against his throat.

Pain.

Not just any pain—

A sharp, searing agony that forced him to clutch his neck, curling in on himself.

The dizziness was overwhelming.

And when he finally managed to lift his head—

Seiya's wooden sword was already pressed lightly against his forehead.

Panting heavily, Gin stared up at his opponent.

Not a single bead of sweat on Seiya's face.

Not even a slight shift in expression.

As if all of this had been inevitable from the start.

Irritating.

Just looking at that smug face made Gin want to punch him.

But right now, he could barely lift a finger.

"Want to keep going?"

The tone was almost teasing.

Gin's breath came in ragged bursts as he glared.

Every fiber of his being screamed to keep fighting—

But after a few moments, his body sagged.

Then, with a long sigh—

Thud.

He flopped onto the floor, utterly drained.

"...That's enough. I give up."

At those words, Seiya grinned.

"Not bad. You lasted quite a few moves today."

He stepped forward, crouching beside Gin and extending a hand.

"Your sword arm got taken out early. Your throat got crushed. But that Hadō was well-played. Against anyone else, it would've—"

"Hadō #63: Raikōhō."

A sudden flash of golden light exploded from Gin's outstretched left hand.

A last-ditch ambush.

A perfect, calculated counterattack.

But—

Seiya didn't move.

Didn't flinch.

Didn't even blink.

Instead—

"Bakudō #73: Tōzankyō."

A transparent, sapphire-hued crystal formed around Seiya, absorbing the full brunt of the lightning blast.

The attack fizzled out, leaving nothing but faint sparks crackling in the air.

Gin exhaled heavily, lips twitching as Seiya's unimpressed face came back into view.

"...Tch."

He hated this.

This view.

Looking up at Seiya.

That smug expression.

That damn left hand, raised ever so casually—

Like a god's decree, rendering all resistance meaningless.

"Give up now?"

Gin let out a long, drawn-out sigh and turned his head away.

"...How the hell did you see that coming?"

Seiya chuckled.

"Oh, it was just a gut feeling."

Gin's eye twitched.

"What kind of bullshit answer is that?!"

Still, all he could do was lie there as Seiya continued.

"I take it back. A Hadō #63 at your level… impressive. Especially since you've only been learning Kidō for a few months."

Seiya leaned back, stretching slightly.

"And your timing was flawless. You really do have a talent for exploiting openings."

He smirked.

"Not bad, for someone who was completely clueless half a year ago."

Gin grumbled under his breath.

This had been going on for months.

He had worked harder than ever before, pushing himself beyond limits—

And yet.

No matter how hard he tried.

Seiya was always just a few steps ahead.

No matter how much he improved.

Seiya never seemed to get any closer.

It was infuriating.

Exhaling sharply, Gin covered his face with a hand.

"...Are you even teaching me properly?"

Seiya stood up, walked away for a moment—

Then returned, tossing a bottle at him.

Gin caught it automatically.

"Of course. I've been teaching you everything I know."

Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, Kidō—

Not a single lesson held back.

"I'm giving you all the tools. You just haven't figured out how to use them together yet."

Gin remained silent as Seiya sat beside him.

"This isn't just about mastering each skill individually."

"It's about integrating them. Finding the perfect moment to strike—just like you did today."

Gin stared at his drink, deep in thought.

"...How much longer is this going to last?"

"Already getting tired?"

"No. Just wondering how long until I finally beat you."

Seiya laughed.

"Big words."

Gin scoffed but didn't argue.

Six months had passed.

For all that time, Seiya had stayed at the academy instead of taking another squad internship.

He had even begun his own research on the Hōgyoku, using this period to deepen his understanding.

But Gin saw it differently.

"You really haven't left, huh?"

"Noticed that, did you?"

Gin's expression darkened.

"You sure you're not wasting your time on me?"

A pause.

Then—

A bag landed in his lap.

Gin blinked.

"...What's this?"

"Persimmons."

Gin stiffened.

Seiya smirked.

"You like them, right?"

Gin hesitated.

"...But—"

"Just take them, idiot."

For the first time, Gin had no words.

Seiya grinned.

"By the way—training is canceled the day after tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Because I'm taking you to meet two important people."

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Powerstones?

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