In the pitch-black forest, crimson light flickered beneath the Hollow's mask like twin will-o'-the-wisps. Its elongated, bone-plated neck swayed as the segmented structure adjusted for attack, the six tentacles scraping against tree bark with sharp, grating sounds.
"Kira," Sombravida said calmly, raising the borrowed blade, "watch closely. This is practical combat."
He advanced slowly.
"In battle, focus is absolute. But that doesn't mean stiffness. Before engagement, you may appear relaxed—even careless. However, your body must already be aligned. Feigned openings are tools. Real openings are death."
Sombravida dragged his feet slightly, posture loose.
The Hollow took the bait.
Its neck snapped forward like a descending axe, the beak cleaving downward at terrifying speed.
Boom.
The ground exploded in dust.
"Brother Tsukishiro!" Kira shouted in alarm.
The attack had been too fast for him to track.
But as the dust thinned—
Sombravida stood to the side, untouched.
At the instant of impact, he had shifted off-line, blade angled upward to deflect the beak's trajectory along the mask's curvature. Simultaneously, his counter-thrust carved deep into the Hollow's cheek, tearing flesh beneath the mask's edge.
The Hollow shrieked.
Sombravida rotated his wrist and drove reiryoku through the blade's edge—not an external release like a Getsuga Tenshō, but a compression burst upon contact. The wound split wider.
"Second principle," Sombravida said evenly. "Exploit imbalance."
He stepped in.
A short-range burst—rougher than Shunpo but effective—carried him inside the Hollow's striking arc.
He drove the sword deep into its torso.
Both hands locked.
He tore downward, splitting the outer membrane and exposing internal reishi flow. Dark blood sprayed across the forest floor.
Kira's breathing quickened.
This was not academy sparring.
This was efficient slaughter.
The Hollow flailed, tentacles lashing blindly.
Sombravida pivoted.
Reverse grip.
A rotational cut struck the bone collar of the neck.
Crack.
Not severed—but fractured.
"Tsk. Hard structure," Sombravida muttered.
His current reiryoku output was insufficient for a single decisive cleave.
Still enough.
The Hollow's neck collapsed forward, structure destabilized.
"Final lesson," Sombravida said quietly.
He stepped in and drove the blade cleanly across the mask's lower seam, cleaving through the weakened cervical joint.
The head fell.
In one fluid motion, he tore the mask free before the reishi began dispersing.
"If you have words for your enemy," he said, lowering the blade, "save them for after they are dead."
The Hollow's body began dissolving into ambient reishi.
Kira stood frozen.
Overwhelmed.
This blind man had dissected a Hollow with terrifying clarity.
Stronger than his family's instructor.
That was Kira's honest assessment.
Sombravida flicked blood from the blade and returned it to Kira.
"Let's move. It will disperse soon."
They returned to the clearing.
Kira walked in silence for several moments before blurting—
"Brother Tsukishiro… you're incredible."
Sombravida did not respond to the praise.
"When you enter the Shin'ō Academy," he said instead, "you will receive an Asauchi. Your Zanpakutō spirit will eventually manifest according to your own soul. Whatever abilities it grants you—speed, weight manipulation, elemental expression—they will amplify the foundation you build now. Without foundation, power collapses."
Kira nodded firmly.
"I want to learn from you."
Sombravida stopped walking.
"I will accept food and modest payment. In return, I will teach fundamentals, battlefield awareness, and mental discipline. I will not teach you secret techniques. Those you must discover yourself."
"Yes."
"Then kneel."
Kira blinked in confusion—but obeyed.
Sombravida suppressed a faint smile.
He had not expected this path when he entered the forest for hunting.
"I lack a proper blade," Sombravida said casually.
Kira immediately presented his family's training katana with both hands.
"Please accept this."
Sombravida examined it briefly.
Balanced.
Decent steel.
He handed it back.
"Keep it. Bring me another tomorrow."
Kira exhaled in relief.
"Now. Stance."
He corrected Kira's posture for nearly an hour.
Lower hips.
Relaxed shoulders.
Spine aligned.
Circulate reiryoku downward through the legs—not upward through the chest.
Kira began sweating heavily.
Sombravida, meanwhile, set traps nearby and secured two rabbits before dawn.
When Kira nearly collapsed from holding stance, Sombravida stopped him.
"Feel it. Your reiryoku is pooling in your legs. Muscle fatigue is supported by circulation. That is control."
"Yes… Brother Tsukishiro."
"Drop the formality. Just Tsukishiro."
They built a small fire.
Sombravida skinned one rabbit efficiently and roasted it without seasoning.
Kira, accustomed to refined meals, devoured the plain meat without complaint.
Exhaustion amplified hunger.
"Replenish after exertion," Sombravida said. "Training without recovery leads to stagnation."
Between bites, Kira asked:
"The Shin'ō Academy exams are in three months. Will you attend?"
"If nothing interferes."
Sombravida's tone remained casual.
"I have a younger sister who intends to enroll. I will accompany her."
Kira nodded enthusiastically.
"You will pass. I'm certain."
Sombravida gave a faint smile.
His concern was not the written or practical examination.
It was the trace Hollow reiryoku within his system.
If detected—especially by the Twelfth Division in the future—questions would follow.
Yet avoiding the Academy would cripple his growth.
There was only one path forward.
Enter.
Adapt.
Advance.
"Practice daily," Sombravida concluded. "Discipline builds confidence."
"Yes."
"Meet here tomorrow night. Bring a replacement sword. And food."
Kira bowed deeply.
Sombravida lifted the boar carcass onto his shoulder, secured the remaining rabbit, and began walking toward Rukongai.
Behind him, Kira watched in awe.
A blind man.
Hunting alone.
Killing Hollows before even entering the Academy.
Surely such a person would one day join the Gotei 13.
Kira clenched his fist.
He would not fall behind.
As he gathered his belongings and prepared to leave, a new thought struck him.
What kind of sword should I forge for my teacher?
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