"Genryū?!"
Kuchiki Kōga repeated Naraku's words, realization dawning across his face.
"So it's the Captain-Commander's style."
The Academy's predecessor had been the Genjuku—Yamamoto's old teaching hall—and the style taught there was the school he created: Genryū.
A lot of people in the Gotei 13 knew that.
"Old Man—teacher once said that training your Zanpakutō is, at its core, training yourself as a Shinigami."
Naraku spread his arms, and scorching Reiatsu rolled forward, sweeping the dōjō. The atmosphere instantly grew heavy and oppressive, like an invisible weight pressing down on the chest.
Kōga's expression turned serious.
He'd assumed earlier that he'd only been caught off guard when Naraku punched him into the wall, but now it was clear—this guy was even stronger than he'd expected.
Just the Reiatsu he was letting leak out was already frighteningly close to captain level.
"If your self-training isn't enough, you end up relying too much on external power."
"And that path rarely ends well. So, Kōga—do you want to learn Genryū from me?"
Kōga hesitated.
"Shouldn't we ask the Captain-Commander's permission for something like that?"
"Why would we?"
"?"
"I mean—Teacher said it's fine as long as you're not teaching shady people. And someone like you, who's been shedding blood for Soul Society, is exactly the kind of person he'd want to teach himself. He wouldn't refuse."
Kōga nodded vigorously.
He was liking this new friend more and more. Completely unlike his father-in-law—Naraku seemed to say exactly what Kōga wanted to hear, making him feel warm inside.
"If you put it like that, then I won't hold back."
Kōga nodded, then unfastened his Zanpakutō and set it by the wall.
"So where do we start?"
Naraku grinned, gentle as ever.
"Obviously—we start by checking your level."
"Old Man Yama said it best: if you don't know someone's real level, how can you teach them properly?"
"Hakuda, Kidō, whatever you've got—show me everything."
The moment those words fell, Kōga's body tensed. He instinctively released his full Reiatsu.
Then the fist wrapped in blood-red mist came roaring in, searing hot—like a volcano about to erupt—right toward him.
No flair at all.
Just maximum speed and power, combined with a terrifying application of force, presented in a nearly perfect form.
"Enkōsen!"
Without a second of hesitation, Kōga snapped his fingers together. A thick, oval shield of light formed instantly, like a solid fortress wall.
Crack!
A thunderous impact exploded. Shockwaves surged outward, crushing in all directions.
Fragments of light scattered, embedding deep into the dōjō floor and walls, leaving jagged cracks behind.
Kōga's Kidō was genuinely strong.
Even a chantless Enkōsen had managed to stop Naraku's Genryū strike—if only for a heartbeat.
But a heartbeat was enough.
Shunpo.
His red scarf fluttered through the air. Purple light gathered between his hands as he aimed at the figure below.
A flash of fierce excitement lit Kōga's eyes. He'd been craving a truly even fight for a long time.
In the past, rebel Shinigami under Muramasa's influence rarely lasted more than seconds.
Now that he'd set that power aside, he felt as if he'd recovered the original spark he'd had back at the Academy.
"Hadō #63: Raikōhō!"
Brilliant golden light bloomed across the dōjō. Twisted arcs of lightning poured down, illuminating the entire space—and reflecting the savage grin on the face below.
The great torrent of thunder crashed down with unstoppable force, swallowing Naraku whole.
Kōga thought that would decide it.
But in the next instant, a figure burst out of the sizzling lightning.
Wrapped in blood-red mist, Naraku shot forward like a meteor, tearing through the crackling arcs. That frightening grin never left his face as he drove a straight punch at Kōga.
Ikkotsu!
There was no time to prepare another defensive Bakudō.
Kōga held his breath, focused everything, and squeezed out every bit of Reiatsu he had, condensing it on his right fist as he met the punch head-on.
The moment their fists met, power as vast as the sea surged in.
In that instant, Kōga understood what Genryū was.
When that overwhelming force poured into his body, it flooded every limb and bone—distributed perfectly across every inch of flesh and every joint, as if his entire body had been "compressed" into receiving the blow.
His face went blank, as if time had been paused.
In a daze, his body spun through the air, drawing a near-perfect arc.
He flew dozens of meters, launched from the center of the dōjō, slammed into the solid wall hard enough to leave a person-shaped imprint—and then slid down like a puddle.
Lying flat on the cold floor, Kōga felt images flash through his mind.
The excitement of being an Academy student. The pride of joining the Kuchiki. The sweetness of marriage. The unstoppable feeling on the battlefield…
When he finally came back to himself, he couldn't even feel his limbs.
Only pain—everywhere—like all his bones had been crushed.
Naraku looked at the "puddle" on the floor, then at his own fist, and nodded with satisfaction.
Compared to when Yamamoto beat him up, he really had gotten stronger.
To be fair, Kōga wasn't weak. Even without relying on his Zanpakutō's special power, he was solidly captain-level.
The reason he'd been flattened so badly was simple: he didn't understand Naraku yet, and he'd been caught off guard.
Raikōhō alone proved Kōga's strength.
If Naraku hadn't been wearing the shihakushō specially customized by Shutara, the outer layer of his "steel skin" might've been pierced.
Naraku crouched beside him and met his eyes.
"Kōga—now you understand why I did this, right?"
Kōga nodded with difficulty, using healing Kidō to ease the pain ripping through him.
Even though he'd been beaten half to death, he didn't feel hatred—only gratitude.
Aside from his wife, it was the first time anyone had treated him so sincerely.
Someone who pointed out his flaws, and even shared Genryū techniques—things most Shinigami would treat like treasure.
To have a friend like this… was enough for a lifetime.
Kōga forced a smile and looked at the boy in front of him, speaking with real sincerity:
"Thank you, Sora."
Naraku: "?"
~~~
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