Chapter 51: Failure
Night.
Inside his room, Suoh Tsukasa had already properly organized everything from his bundle into categories within his storage cabinet. The entire room exuded orderliness.
Suoh sat upright at the wooden table. Having just finished his evening practice, he still had one important matter to attend to.
And this person who usually barely lit lamps had rarely lit an oil lamp indoors tonight.
The warm yellow lamplight swayed slowly in the darkness, stretching his shadow long and thin across the wooden floorboards, quietly projecting onto the white wall behind him, adding several degrees more atmosphere of tranquility and solemnity.
The lamplight illuminated the desk.
On the right side of the table sat neatly arranged sword-wiping paper and clove oil purchased from the commercial street. Before him lay horizontally the asauchi distributed by the academy.
Suoh raised his hand to pick up the sword. His left hand steadily held the scabbard while his right hand lightly pressed the guard. Accompanied by a clear, resonant low hum, the blade slowly left its sheath.
The cold blade surface flowed with a delicate luster like autumn water under the oil lamp's dim yellow light. The lines were slender, the arc smooth, flashing with brilliant sharpness at the most acute tip.
"As expected, not much maintenance."
Suoh raised the blade to eye level, carefully examining the asauchi's condition in detail.
With his rich experience, he quickly assessed the situation of the asauchi in his hand.
He also gained understanding from another aspect regarding why the Shinoreijutsuin set so many detailed rules for asauchi.
Only wooden swords could be used for practice. Asauchi couldn't be carried without permission. Taking them outside the school was strictly forbidden.
Rule after rule limited students from cultivating feelings and rapport with their asauchi, yet the textbooks clearly stated that Shinigami must live and sleep together with their asauchi.
These seemingly contradictory regulations finally had an answer at this moment.
Besides considering safety, another key point hidden behind the school rules was cost.
The Shinoreijutsuin provided food, clothing, and lodging for students. Everything within the academy was provided free of charge.
If the academy also had to bear the maintenance costs for all students' asauchi, it would indeed be no small expense for the budget.
And he also understood why most Shinigami looked like they weren't particularly wealthy.
Clearly only mid-month, yet when some regular customers chatted casually, they always lamented that their money for the month was almost spent.
They always left Terada-ya with expressions carrying a trace of heartache mixed with joy and satisfaction.
Besides daily expenses and personal hobbies, maintenance supplies were also an additional expense.
With Suoh's current financial resources, he could only afford to buy one set of superior maintenance supplies for now.
Opening the clove oil bottle cap, a gentle clove fragrance immediately permeated through the air.
He picked up a stack of sword-wiping paper and skillfully folded it to an appropriate size, dabbing a small amount of clove oil.
Pressing the paper against the blade surface, his hand movements were gentle and focused. Starting from the guard, he slowly wiped toward the tip.
His fingertip pressure was even. Each wipe carried away dust and moisture invisible to the naked eye, making the steel's true color increasingly profound under the oil film's effect.
Throughout the entire blade maintenance process, Suoh's eyes remained calm, his expression focused, as if treating a most beloved lover.
Without realizing it, nearly an hour passed.
Suoh finally completed the blade maintenance, returning the asauchi to its scabbard and putting away the maintenance supplies properly.
Then he didn't immediately place the asauchi back on the sword rack. Instead, he brought it to the meditation cushion, sat cross-legged, and placed the asauchi on his lap.
Closing his eyes, the next moment Suoh instinctively entered meditation. His consciousness slowly settled, bringing his spiritual pressure along to permeate the asauchi on his lap.
Previously, he'd already attempted numerous times to communicate with his own zanpakuto through the asauchi. Until today, he still hadn't received even the slightest feedback from his zanpakuto.
Gradually, a hour passed. Suoh slowly opened his eyes.
"Much more difficult than I anticipated..."
This attempt had failed again. His zanpakuto still resembled a stone sunk in the deep sea, no movement whatsoever, giving him no response.
Gripping the scabbard, he lifted the asauchi before his eyes and somewhat helplessly complained to the silent blade.
"I treat you so well. At least make a sound, give me some response."
From carefully selecting superior maintenance supplies, to patiently wiping and maintaining the blade, to spending time meditating and communicating.
Suoh had already exhausted everything he'd learned in his entire life to treat the asauchi in his hand with care.
Originally, he'd been full of anticipation and quite confident about this attempt. The result was still disappointment.
At this moment, Suoh even had the impulse to sing "My baby, baby" to coax the asauchi in his hand.
But thinking about it, his zanpakuto's form was unknown, gender unknown. If he chose the wrong song, wouldn't that be very awkward?
He immediately suppressed this bizarre notion.
Every zanpakuto had its own personality and soul. Around Suoh, the only person he could exchange zanpakuto communication experience with was Toshiro.
Previously, he and Toshiro had privately exchanged insights.
Toshiro had also detailed that besides that one time before enrollment when he'd encountered the ice dragon's call in a dream, he'd also tried numerous times to communicate with his zanpakuto through his asauchi. But he'd similarly failed every time, also receiving no response.
At that time, for an instant Suoh had considered directly telling him Hyourinmaru's true name to try.
But this thought was quickly abandoned. The bond between zanpakuto and master was unique.
If Hyourinmaru knew that his master hadn't learned his true name from his own mouth, but rather had it revealed by an outsider, he'd probably be very displeased.
At that point, producing a fake name like "Hyouryuumaru" would be quite the show. Not only would it be impossible to explain clearly, it would purely delay someone else's practice.
"A zanpakuto is built using the Shinigami's own soul as a prototype. By writing the essence of one's own soul into the asauchi, one creates their own zanpakuto."
Suoh gently stroked the asauchi's scabbard, silently reciting the words from the textbook in his heart.
Suoh understood this principle, but doing it was truly difficult.
He placed the asauchi properly back on the sword rack and turned to walk to the bedside and sit down.
Before sleeping, Suoh picked up Hazy Night hanging at the bed's side again.
Maintaining a wooden sword was much simpler than maintaining a steel blade. Basically, one just needed to follow principles of cleanliness, moisture prevention, drying prevention, and occasional nourishment.
Suoh took out a soft velvet cloth from a fabric bag, then used his fingertips to dab a bit of special wood oil, gently applying it to key areas of the blade surface.
Combined with accompanying it daily and maintaining it every day, he finished the routine maintenance while humming a tune.
"You're so much easier to deal with."
Lightly patting Hazy Night's blade surface, the ebony blade transmitted a heavy, solid tactile feeling.
A shallow smile floated at the corners of Suoh's mouth. The slight disappointment from failing to communicate with his zanpakuto earlier also departed.
Hanging Hazy Night back properly, Suoh raised his fingers and extinguished the oil lamp.
Moonlight fell through the window onto the asauchi on the sword rack and Hazy Night at the bedside, tranquil and gentle.
Suoh removed his outer clothing and sank into the soft bedding, closing his eyes.
Sleep!
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