In the courtyard of the Shihōin estate, two figures flickered back and forth, each movement punctuated by sharp thud, thud, thud…
"Left! Right! Kick… then repeat it again! "
Yūshirō Shihōin was relentlessly drilling the petite Suzumebachi Ayame. He was teaching her exactly as Yoruichi Shihōin had once trained him, occasionally mixing in a few variations of Tenjirō Kirinji's footwork.
Yūshirō didn't immediately pass down Zero Division techniques. Those were far too advanced for Ayame—teaching them too early would only backfire. Instead, he gave her pieces of their foundational training. Even those fragments alone benefitted her tremendously. It was like scooping a single ladle of water from the ocean—enough to fill a river.
"Huff… huff…"
Ayame kept repeating the moves, her small frame drenched in sweat.
"That's enough for today. Go wash up and rest early—we'll continue tomorrow," Yūshirō said after noticing night had already fallen.
"Yes, Yūsh—Yūshirō! "
Ayame almost blurted out the respectful honorific again but caught herself under the weight of his sharp, unblinking gaze from behind the eyepatch.
"Your spiritual body is strong. Right now, you're already on par with the lowest-seated officers of the Gotei 13. But that's not your limit. Based on what I can sense, your potential should reach vice-captain level at least."
There were prodigies who achieved captain-class power by the age of a hundred. Ayame wasn't one of those once-in-an-era geniuses, but she was far from ordinary. With steady cultivation, she could easily become a captain. Reaching the top among captains, however, would demand effort beyond what most people could endure.
"I… I haven't fully drawn out my talent," Ayame admitted in shame.
"Forget it. What matters is that you keep working hard."
Yūshirō placed a hand on her shoulder. "If you want to stay by my side, you'll need power that no one can take from you. Because I am invincible—I will never die. And you must live as well."
"Yes, Yūshirō! "
Ayame straightened up, determination flashing in her eyes.
The days that followed grew monotonous. Yūshirō still slept through classes and tasked Ayame with keeping others from disturbing him. After school, he would make up her missed lessons with grueling training.
A month passed in the blink of an eye.
During that time, Ayame was constantly injured. Her small fists blistered and bled from striking the training posts, every hit stabbing deep into her bones. Yet she never once complained—she clenched her teeth and endured. And her efforts bore fruit: her Hakuda and Zanjutsu had risen to the level of a 6th or 5th seat officer, her Shunpo surpassed many 3rd seats, and her reiatsu was visibly surging.
Every time she felt herself grow stronger, Ayame was elated. For her, strength was happiness.
After one class ended—
"Yūshirō, let's start training right away! "Ayame!" called out, bandages wrapped around her arms, eagerness shining in her eyes.
"No. Today, we'll change things up. I can already feel it—your reiatsu has matured enough. You should be ready to achieve your Zanpakutō's Shikai."
Ayame froze. "Shikai…? " She had never even considered reaching that stage yet.
"Where's your Asauchi? " Yūshirō asked.
"Here…"
She picked up the blade resting on a stone pedestal.
"Good. Now, pour your reiatsu into the sword. Then ask it to tell you its name."
Yūshirō, though he lacked a Zanpakutō of his own, had witnessed his sister's Shikai and knew the process well.
"That simple? " Ayame asked doubtfully.
"Of course. Awakening Shikai isn't like attaining Bankai. Once your reiatsu is sufficient, your Zanpakutō will answer. The real difficulty has always been Bankai. Try it—you should have no problem."
"Alright."
Nodding, Ayame raised her blade.
"Please… tell me your name," she whispered, her reiatsu surging wildly.
Boom!
Her spiritual pressure flared uncontrollably, and the blade's form shifted. Though it retained its katana shape, the hilt and guard transformed into something uniquely hers.
"Well? Did your Zanpakutō tell you its name? " Yūshirō asked, watching the power gather around her.
"Yes." Ayame nodded firmly.
"Sting to death—Suzumebachi! "
The katana vanished, replaced by a golden gauntlet-like weapon clinging tightly to her right arm and fingers, its design resembling the sharp stinger of a wasp. A weapon made only for close-quarters assassination.
"Yūshirō… does my Shikai look good? " Ayame asked shyly.
"It suits you perfectly," Yūshirō said, stroking his chin in approval. "Small, cute, but with a sharpness that makes you even more striking. What's its ability? "
Ayame straightened, her tone serious. "Suzumebachi's ability is… two strikes to kill."
"A rule-based Zanpakutō, with an added ability type. An outstanding power," Yūshirō nodded, impressed despite himself.
"T-thank you…" Ayame scratched the back of her head, embarrassed by the praise.
"Now, show me."
"But… my ability only works on living targets. And it's too cruel… Besides, there's no opponent here."
"No need for an opponent. Just use it on me." Yūshirō pointed to his own chest.
"Eh?! " Ayame froze, staring at him in shock.
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