Under the Glow of the Moon

"Straighten up, Jiraiya." Raian was saying.

The war-hardened captain found himself in the Yoshida district of Rukongai, in the courtyard of the Dojang he had rebuilt in the shadow of his former master, Shōyō's, own academy. The sun was finally beginning to sink in the Soul Society skies and an evening breeze was prevalent on the fields of the otherwise lawless district of Yoshida. There, in the courtyard, Raian was teaching his first student; a young boy he had found among the corpses two months earlier, named Jiraiya. In the shade of the academy's side, a woman, Raian's new lieutenant, Yoshida, leaned up against the building, arms crossed across her chest, observing her mentor tutor his newest pupil.

Raian was behind the small child, who was wielding a practice sword, helping him straighten up his form. For two months, the three had lived in the secluded academy, searching for orphans of the war with Akujin, and training diligently day in and day out.

"Now then, swing." Raian continued, stepping back from his youngest pupil.

"HYAH!" Jiraiya cried, lunging forward in a brilliant display of what he had been learning over the past two months.

"Again!" Raian barked, folding his own arms as he observed.

They continued this for several more moments. Raian would give the order and Jiraiya, immediately, would follow it; swinging his sword down in the most elegant, yet forceful manner his young body could muster up. By the time the sun slipped below the treeline, the young Soul had worked up quite the sweat. Yet, even still, he held his form until Raian gave the okay to relent.

"You're getting better, slowly." Raian commented, ruffling his young student's brown mop of hair in praise.

"Sensei," Jiraiya began, his voice trembling with exhaustion. "When will I get my real sword back?"

"That sword you picked off a corpse?" Raian questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Never. It is a remnant of the old you. You will never pick it up again. When the time is right, I will fashion you a new weapon, and then, you will impress your soul upon it."

"What you're saying makes sense." the boy persisted. "But—"

"No buts." Raian cut him off staunchly. "That sword was wielded improperly. It has no place here."

The elder Shinigami saw the hurt in the boy's eyes after he had said this, causing him to realize that perhaps he had been a little too harsh. His expression softened into somewhat of a softer smile. Getting down on bended knee, so as to be on Jiraiya's eye level, Raian once more placed his hand on the boy's head, causing him to focus on the elder Shinigami's eyes.

"From here on, wield the sword not to strike down enemies, but to strike down your own weak self. Wield it not to protect yourself, but to protect your own soul." Raian told him, echoing the words of his own sensei. "Don't get discouraged. You will do just fine."

"Yes sensei." Jiraiya replied, returning the smile.

"You ready to head in?" Raian asked, first looking at Jiraiya before glancing in Yoshida's direction.

The ever silent lieutenant nodded, unfolded her arms, and began to make her way into the academy. Raian got to his feet and Jiraiya walked beside him as they followed her into the academy, where the door shut firmly behind them. From above, as the moon rose in the sky of Soul Society, a hooded figure lingered in the air, staring down on the solitary academy, his hood hiding any discernible expression. As the moon rose ever higher, the hooded man was overcome by a shadow, and in a gust of wind, was gone...