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The sun had already risen when Itazura ushered himself from the warm embrace of his sheets and down for something to eat. Gorging himself on slices of cold turkey from last night’s dinner, he pondered just how he was going to bring the subject of his training to Kusaka. If he didn’t speak carefully then the chances of his cousin teaching him how to harness the Rei Furashuu would be slim at best. Especially since his father, Tadashi, had forbid him from taking the training he had done so far any farther. The danger was too great he had said, but how could it be any more dangerous than what he had been doing these last few months? It was unfair, but his father had his reasons. He always did. He didn’t want them getting hurt, hated seeing it happen. Yet that was what had happened. Perhaps if they could perform the technique which was theirs by birth, Mariko and he would be better capable of performing their duties and protecting themselves more readily. Pigs might fly too. His mind set, Itazura walked out the kitchen door and felt out the signature of his cousin. Nothing answered him. Either Kusaka wasn’t here or he was suppressing his energy to the point of invisibility.
‘Lovely,’ he complained in a fierce whisper. Keeping track of Kusaka was next to impossible at the best of times. He was unpredictable, overly reckless and intelligent enough that whenever he wanted to be hidden he ensured that he was. Finding him now would be difficult. Tracking down Raiden without a lead to work from and the entire Rukongai as an option would be easier.
Wasn’t that a good start to his day? Sighing where he stood leaning against the kitchens outside wall, Itazura cast his senses outward in search of Sojiro instead, hoping that at the very least he would be around to hear his request. He was as it turned out, but he was so far away that it had taken close to five minutes just too correctly identify his location. He pushed off the wall and inhaled sharply. Several squats loosened the muscles in his legs sufficiently for what he was planning. It wouldn’t do to perform to much strenuous activity, especially after he and Mariko had just been given the all-clear yesterday to be about in the first place. Bounding off to the north with a quick series of flash steps, Itazura slowly but surely began to slice the distance between himself and his cousin down. The scenery that comprised Nishiendo passed beneath him quickly, but not so much that the sight was blurred, like it was so often when his father or uncle carried him for speeds sake. Simple two story buildings, cleanly swept paved paths and an occasional fountain passed beneath Itazura’s eyes before giving way to the next street lined with stalls. He was passing over the small marketplace where merchants cried their wares and customers partook of the goods on offer. He stopped and descended once to help an elderly man carry some heavy crates to the stall he owned farther down the street, receiving grateful thanks for his efforts. With a backwards wave, Itazura was moving again; the scenery below again whizzing beneath him. He touched down briefly atop a larger three-story building with a flat red slate roof and a chimney to his extreme right that puffed black smoke. Coughing amidst it the smoke that also made his eyes water, he crouched down, held his breathe and then propelled himself off the slates into the air! He was higher now than he had been before, his previous flash step the largest he’d ever performed. That single step allowed him to clear the roofs of several houses and three streets in total before he landed lightly with a slight blast of spiritual energy to slow his descent, where he skidded to a tidy halt mere metres from Sojiro, whose silver hair spun as his body did; the action shouting his intention to strike at some perceived threat.
‘Nice entrance,’ Sojiro said with a decisive shake of his head that also served to dismiss the long-blond-haired Shinigami woman he had been conversing with. He also loosened the hand he had on his zanpakutō. ‘I’ll talk to you later.’ He said to her with a lingering look before she walked round the nearest corner with a reluctant glance back.
‘You sly dog,’ Itazura elbowed him lightly once she was clear. ‘How long you been chasing her then? Judging by that look you’ve impressed her.’
‘That’s none- you really think so?’ Ah, poor oblivious Sojiro. Sure he was as smart as they came, but clueless at the same time.
‘Yeah, you’ve got that one in the bag.’ The almost regretful look back, the shy smile she wore, the lingering gaze. Yup, he was in there. ‘Trust me. I spend my time chatting up girls and woman both, so I know what I’m talking about. You gotta have a plan in your head, cous.’
‘Actually no, I haven’t.’ Eh? Is he taking the biscuit?
‘You have now,’ Itazura took his older cousin by the forearm and dragged him to a seat atop some wooden crates off to the side of the street they were on, nestled within a small stone carved alcove to keep rain off the boxes. Someone had obviously carved it out themselves. The stone wasn’t smooth, but it performed its function. People walked back and forth, most paying them little to no heed at best. ‘Okay, here’s what you do…’ and Itazura proceeded to tell his cousin what he should and shouldn’t do, what to say and what not to as well as general advice. ‘You’re a nice guy, Sojiro. You don’t pay much heed to anyone unless they interest you in some way, which she must, otherwise you wouldn’t bother. That covers the look interested when she speaks to you part. Now, where are you taking her?’
‘I’m taking her to that one restaurant on the west side.’ One that Itazura knew quite well. It was situated on an adjoining side-street off the main one running through the west of Nishiendo, with a quiet surround and open, balcony set tables on the second floor illuminated by low set lamps to provide a romantic setting. They served an amazing Yakiniku dish that was to die for and their Tempura dishes weren’t bad either. A little on the pricy side but regarded as one of the best spots for fine dining in the entirety of Western Rukongai, as well as one for couples. The balcony seats offered an amazing view of the entire districts best points and, depending on the time of day, the beautiful sight that was the sun setting.
‘Good choice.’ and Itazura again began offering his advice to the increasingly surprised Sojiro. Once his explanations came to an end, the elder of the Kori cousins was left open-mouthed and utterly bewildered. For him it had been like talking to a mature Kusaka or Shin! ‘What? You look a little funny.’
‘Thanks for the advice. Now,’ and he raised his eyebrow questionably, ‘what’s the catch? You’re related to Kusaka and Tadashi and you take more after Shin than I originally thought, so there needs to be a catch here. With the three I named, advice is never free and, since you are their drawn spit, I assume that the same holds true for you?’ Trust Sojiro to smack the nail right on the head with his first try.
‘What gave me away? No, don’t answer that. I think I know.’ He’d jumped at the chance and Sojiro knew it hadn’t been solely out of the goodness of his heart. Sure, he liked helping his family and all, but at times you needed to look out for number one too. ‘I’m hoping you and Kusaka can teach me the Rei Furashuu. Mariko told me not to blame myself for what happened, but the fact remains. If I was stronger I could’ve prevented her injury. I’m positive of that.’
The entire feel of the conversation altered suddenly. What had been a close and connecting conversation between cousins a minute prior suddenly became a serious matter close to Itazura’s heart. It was true that Sojiro hadn’t seen his younger cousins as often as he would have liked in the last few months and years. Work was always prevailing and Averian and his army always threatening. Yet when they did see one another they spent a great deal of time together. Itazura always managed to surprise him too. Looking at him now, his posture poised, shoulders squared, back straight and gaze unwavering, Sojiro couldn’t help but see a younger version of Tadashi and Shin sitting opposite him. The similarities were almost jaw-dropping! It was like father and uncle had stepped into young Itazura’s skin.
‘… It won’t be easy. You know that.’ Sojiro said finally. He was pacing now, hand rubbing his chin in thought.
‘But that’s the point,’ Itazura replied with more sting than he’d intended. It was too late to apologize now though. Instead he focused on driving his point home, for Sojiro was focused on him now more than before, almost like he was trying to see through him into the core of his being. ‘Even with the Rei Furashuu alone, I wouldn’t have saved her. That’s obvious. Raiden’s brother was stronger than I was, then there’s Raiden himself. I beat him simply because of his own complacency, arrogance and underestimation of Mariko and my powers. Even then it was a close call. The training for the Rei Furashuu is harsh and brutal, meaning that isn’t the only thing I’ll gain when I do finish the training. My other skills will have improved as well.’ He’d had close to five nights now to ponder what the training meant, to build his resolve and prepare his argument encase he needed to persuade his cousins to see his need.
Sojiro couldn’t help but be moved by his cousins plea. He was facing the event that could have easily claimed his sister’s life, if not his own, with such maturity that the elder of the Kori clansmen was quite proud of his younger cousin. Itazura was a womanizer like his uncle and cousin Kusaka, but, like his parents and many role models, he was smart enough to puzzle out the hidden angles and see the truth of a situation amazingly quickly. And he’d obviously had time to thing this through. In fact he’d probably came to the conclusion shortly after Kusaka had made his thoughts on the subject known the night both he and Mariko lay dreaming. Itazura was also quite steadfast in what he considered to be his current purpose. Some would even call him stubborn. Once he got an idea into his head he was like a dog with a bone. He rarely let it go and clung to it like a drowning man to driftwood. It was an admirable trait to be sure, but not always. The view could sometimes cloud your vision to all else and right now Itazura saw his goal clearly: gain the power necessary to prevent a repeat performance of his sister’s near-death experience and ensure that she never went through such turmoil again.
‘… Kusaka left to speak with Kenji because we both agreed that we would teach you the Rei Furashuu. Now let me finish!’ He raised his voice for the last at the sudden flash of wonder on Itazura’s face. ‘If you start then you will finish, Zura. That is my only condition. If we do this we do it all the way, there won’t be any dropping out if things get too difficult to handle. You’ll either succeed or be broken by it. It’s that simple.’
‘Then we’re wasting daylight, Sojiro.’ Itazura rebuked quickly, his features angered, his cheeks flushed. At his sides his fists were clenched tightly, in his mouth his teeth were grinding. Usually Itazura maintained his calm, even whilst angry. This was one thing he wouldn’t fail in; couldn’t fail in. It was as Sojiro said. He’d either succeed or be broken. It was one or the other. There was no in-between. Do or don’t. Succeed or fail… life or die.
‘I told Kusaka I wouldn’t until he returned… but it seems like a bad idea to let you run off without something to fill your hours.’ He’d likely try and replicate the technique without guidance, which never ended well for the one attempting to do so. They ended up drawing too deeply on their reiryoku reserves, thinking outright power was what was required to harness and control the energy. The Rei Furashuu was as much about discipline and spiritual understanding as it was about raw power. Only through practice, understanding and surrender could one wield its power. That’s why so many failed to achieve it – they lacked the strength of character that was required. ‘Meet me in the forest clearing, the spot where Maki and Rikimaru trained Kenji, in one hour. That’s where your training will take place. Take Mariko with you. The best way to protect you both is to arm you both with the knowledge and discipline needed.’
The sights of Nishiendo greeted Kusaka and Kireina as the couple stepped from their Senkaimon, the light from the gateway illuminating the rooftop on which they now stood. The gateway vanished then, like two doors painted to appear identical to the sky shutting and blending in. The sun was at its peak, the breeze was calm and the smell of meat was wafting up from the building below them. They had stepped out in the west side directly above the restaurant Sojiro had earlier claimed was the best in the entire Western Rukongai.
‘Let’s go,’ but before he went any farther Kireina insisted that they grab something to eat, because she was quick to point out that they hadn’t eaten all day. More like she hadn’t eaten. Her early morning had been spent on patrol throughout Horiwari’s docklands. Averian’s Army was getting ever bolder and incursions into Horiwari itself were increasing in number. Not that the smaller attacks ever made it past the Lower Heights, which young Tyrell Nishiki defended like it was going out of fashion. The larger ones rarely made it as far as the Upper Heights commanded by Yoshiro Kazuki.
The restaurant was well furnished and equally well maintained. High ceilings with hanging low-set lights within baskets provided a soft, illuminating glow which gave a nice compliment to the deep red painted walls of the second floor. The balcony they found themselves sitting at was also quite spacious, giving the occupants privacy. Opposite him Kireina was scanning the menu over before settling on the famous Tempura dish that was said to be particularly good here. In addition she asked for a small bowl of Bibimbap, which was literally a mix-up of white rice with some slices of meat, topped with an egg. It was then mixed up thoroughly just before serving. Kusaka settled for his staple: the Yakiniku dish. He liked meat dishes, especially with a side of Dolnamul, which was a type of dish he first tasted when he’d travelled to Korea with Kenji, Kazuma and Ino so many years ago now. He’d instantly fallen in love with the taste, especially when his favourite types of meat were grilled and dipped in various types of sauce or dip. He’d argued back then that the vegetables simply balanced the meal out but, in truth, he’d loved their taste as well.
They ate their meal with simple conversation about their day, topics which were interesting them currently and general events they’d heard from others. Not that Kusaka placed much faith in rumours. It was just conversation that was both pleasant and distracting. Talking with Kireina like was akin to having his mind whisked away from whatever problems and concerns troubled him, harking back to a simpler time when things weren’t so dire. He could let himself go and for once not be the inexhaustible ball of energy he was when others were about. Here with her he could relax and lose himself in the conversation, like sweet music on a moonlit night. All that differed from his mental picture in the world around him was the presence of the sun instead of the moon. They took their time as well, for now content simply to enjoy one another’s company. Even when they’d finished their respective meals they continued their chat, stopping only once momentarily so Kusaka could pay the bill.
‘We should really get going,’ Kireina said finally, rising. Kusaka soon followed though somewhat reluctantly. He’d have loved nothing more than to spend an hour or two more talking with her, yet he had a job to do. Damn cousins! She must’ve guessed at his feelings for she tapped his arm affectionately and flicked her head at the balcony, towards the forested area lining the town’s perimeter. The location that Sojiro was now at preparing to teach the Kori siblings the technique they wanted to learn so badly. Setting off with his arm around Kireina’s shoulder, both Shinigami sprang into the air and vanished. A series of impressive flash steps brought them to their destination in only a matter of minutes, where Kusaka entered through the open door into the house allocated him and Kireina for the duration of their stay in Nishiendo. Small and quaint with a burning fire in the living room, small dining rooms off the kitchen and a single room upstairs with accompanying bathroom, complete with shower and bath both. Kusaka climbed the stairs and removed from his and Kireina’s suitcase two lengths of cloth of a silver, light blue and grey coloration, which he then deposited within the inner pocket of his black jacket.
‘Ready,’ he called down.
Once again taking to the skies, the duo again flashed stepped across the heavens, where they eventually touched down amidst a natural clearing in the forest where Maki Zhijun had previously made his home during his self-imposed exile from the Seireitei, the Gotei and the Central 46. In the background, near the edge of the clearing, was a thundering waterfall plummeting into the basin below. The remnants of the training carried out here was mostly hidden by the passage of time, old moss, and grass and toppled trees covering what had once been earth scarred by small fissures from Kenji’s lightning-based powers; then much weaker and less destructive overall. Warming up near the dingy old weather-beaten shack with moss growing on its four walls were the Kori siblings, Itazura and Mariko, who were working up a sweet under Sojiro’s quiet instruction.
‘Don’t be too hard on them,’ Kireina advised with a brief smile, followed by a stern look. Great, just what he needed.
‘Me? Never,’ the smile betrayed the lie. ‘Front and centre!’ Kusaka called to his new charges, surprising both into action, who jumped to their feet and scurried over to stand in front like scolded puppies. ‘As long as we’re training, I’m not your cousin, nor are you two mine. If we do this then we do this my way, understand?’ Two heads nodded reluctantly. If they thought this was bad then they were in for a rude awakening. ‘Good. You won’t enjoy this. Heck, not even droopy-drawers would enjoy this and he relished every chance to get stronger.’
Itazura and Mariko shared a look of utter confusion. Who in blue blazes were droopy drawers? ‘Kazuma Nishiki,’ Sojiro supplied, much to Kireina’s joy. She was shaking her head and laughing.
‘Put these on,’ Kusaka threw each a length of cloth – the same pieces removed from his suitcase not ten minutes ago. Each piece of cloth ran from a person’s fingertip to the top of their bicep, stopping just beneath the armpit and shoulder respectively. Wound around the wrist was a slight piece of thickened leather-like cloth that was roughly two-and-a-half inches in length that was entirely light blue in colour against the more splendid silver background. A hole was visible to accommodate the elbow, with a circle of light blue also ringing the gap. Each sibling donned theirs on their left arm respectively. ‘Those are gloves I asked a Quincy to help me make especially for the young of our clan attempting to learn the Rei Furashuu. Are either of you familiar with the Sanrei Glove?’ When both his younger cousins shook their heads, Kusaka motioned for Sojiro to continue the explanation.
‘The Sanrei Glove functions by repelling spiritual particles away from the Quincy who has donned it; thus making it far more difficult for said Quincy to form their weaponry.’
‘What’s the point of that though?’ Mariko asked. As usual she went straight to the heart of the matter, not really caring how the glove did what was described to her. Quincy lore was scarce in Soul Society unless you happened to be a member of the 12th Division with access to research findings or have access to the Great Library where most information was kept. Something both Mariko and Itazura lacked. The siblings had never encountered a Quincy before, either, which didn’t help any.
‘A Quincy usually fights by summoning a bow constructed from ambient particles of reishi, which they can also use for their arrows. It forms the basis for a large variety of their individual techniques.’ Kireina supplied, Sojiro thanking her by inclining of his head.
‘Understand now? By repelling these reishi particles, a Quincy forms their bow, shoots their arrows and performs their abilities. The first step is to form one’s bow. If you can do that and keep it as such for a week, while firing arrows continually, the Quincy will have augmented all of their abilities to new whole heights. This glove-’ and he pointed to those now donned by Itazura and Mariko ‘-uses the Sanrei Glove as a base, though instead of repelling reishi particles away from the user, this glove makes it incredibly difficult for untrained Shinigami to utilize their reiryoku which, like reishi particles for a Quincy, provide the Shinigami with the power to utilize their various spiritual acts; such as the release of zanpakutō and the utilization of Kidō spells. The same holds true for a son or daughter of the Kori Family using the Rei Furashuu.’
‘The glove builds spiritual control because you need to spend a lot of time and a lot of effort just to summon the smallest trickle. To prove my point…’ Kusaka spent a handful of seconds looking for a suitable target. Once resting upon a large dead oak tree lying toppled against the waterfall thundering in the background he pointed to Itazura. ‘Fire a Byakurai at that tree by the waterfall.’
Doing as he was told Itazura squared his shoulders, inhaled sharply through his nostrils and cleared his mind. The index finger of his right hand came up to point at the tree; a bright light illuminating the tip of the finger in anticipation of the pale blue bolt of lightning that would soon be unleashed! Yet nothing happened. The light remained briefly and then winked away with a mere crackle of electricity dancing along his outstretched finger, which soon vanished also. ‘I see,’ he whispered after his initial surprise was quelled. ‘By wearing the glove, which makes it harder for us to draw upon our spiritual energy, our ability to control it once we remove the gloves will be greater than it had been before. As Sojiro explained before you and aunty Kireina arrived, the Rei Furashuu requires spiritual understanding.’
‘Very good, Itazura,’ Kireina said, nodding.
‘Not bad,’ Kusaka conceded. ‘Now… we begin the real training. Anyone can wear a glove. After I’m done with you, bringing your spiritual energy to bear will be as easy as breathing.’