Fairy Tail: Shinigami - CH207 (Patreon)
Content
[Adam C. POV.]
After being named, The Captain of the Fifth Division.
The days blended seamlessly, each filled with duties and decisions I hadn't expected, despite how straightforward the role was. As the temporary Captain of the 5th Division, my mornings began early, very early, unholy type of early. Reports to review, missions to assign, and the occasional reprimand to issue.
If I had to describe my new job, well. It was a life governed by rules, hierarchy, and duty.
The nobles in particular were a pain in the ass to deal with, entitled snobs, then again, that was always the case everywhere.
Thankfully, Hinamori was by my side throughout, guiding me with the ins and outs of the Gotei 13 bureaucracy. The little girl was stronger than she realized, she was a pillar of strength, even if her eyes still held an undercurrent of sadness.
I wholeheartedly admired her resilience and determination to move forward despite her evident traumas.
As for the members of the 5th Division, well they respected me. Or maybe it was more accurate to say they were wary of me. I could sense their unease, which wasn’t surprising. They had been betrayed by Aizen, and here I was, an outsider, who had for a short time been their enemy, suddenly thrust into an important leadership role.
Trust was hard to come by, but I like to think I was making strides in that area.
There were even some members of my division that I had managed to convince not to call me; Captain, though every time they did, Momo would scold them for their lack of respect, despite being clear I wasn’t one for formalities.
Anyways.
Seeing my division had no special duties, like the Twelfth Division for example, which was in charge of science and technological development, things were considerably easier for me.
So, when I wasn’t forced to be on my desk, sending Shinigamis to the field, I would be training them.
My training drills were focused, rigorous, taking a page from Yamamoto’s own training. Every shinigami under my command trained as much as they could, preparing for what could come.
Sure, my position here would be temporary, but I wanted to leave a positive mark on them.
That being said, all of the above were my daytime responsibility.
Because as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, and the rest of the Soul Society was consumed by darkness, my true challenge began.
Every night, I would head to an isolated training ground where Captain-Commander Yamamoto and the one that shall not be named, also known as the First Kenpachi, awaited.
The sheer power they both exuded was palpable, a weight that pressed down on me the moment I entered their presence. Each one for a different reason, Yamamoto for his unmeasurable power, and the other, well, for the mountains of corpses behind her aura.
Our training sessions were brutal. Yamamoto was relentless, pushing me to my limits and beyond, most of the time stopping only when I was about to die. His flames tested my endurance, my resilience, my will. Every mistake was a lesson learned the hard way, which usually involved lots and lots of pain.
Every lapse in concentration was punished swiftly. But through it all, I could feel myself growing stronger, more attuned to my own abilities.
Despite the pain, I was more than happy with this arrangement.
For the first time, ever, I had someone to actually train with, someone with experience in the same field. Not that Zanryuzuki wasn’t a good teacher, she was, but there was only so much you could grow by yourself.
Unohana, on the other hand, was a different beast altogether. Her cold, bloodthirsty smile was the last thing I saw before she launched into an attack. When it came to her, there was no structure to her training, no shape, no real goal other than surviving, with her, it was a dance of death, her blade always inches away from a fatal blow, and more than not, it would be a fatal blow.
But everytime she would ‘kill me’ I would wake up, as if nothing had happened, with no option but to continue fighting lest I want to ‘die’ again.
She reveled in the fight, her true nature as the First Kenpachi shining through with every swing of her blade.
With them, nights turned into mornings, blisters turned into scars, and exhaustion became my constant companion. But as the days passed, the progress I made was undeniable.
My reactions were sharper, my techniques more refined.
I could feel more in tune with myself as a soul, becoming aware of things that I had never thought possible. Fighting without a mortal body was freeing, limitless in essence… and as such was my potential for growth.
I still had much to learn though, and a small frame of time to do so.
As proof, one evening, after a particularly intense session with Unohana, I collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath, covered in cuts from her blade, knives, and other things.
She stood over me, her smile chilling in the dim moonlight.
“You’ve come far,” she remarked, almost contemplatively. “But for all that strength you have, you’re still weak.”
I managed a tired smile, leave it to her to finish a compliment with an insult. “I have no intention of stopping.”
She nodded, offering a hand to pull me up. As I grasped it, she brought her blade down, cutting my chest before piercing my heart with her blade. “Remember this. The fight never ends, not at least until your enemy is dead.”
I coughed blood, darkness consuming me. Just for me to wake up, feeling as if no time had passed, as my blade blocked hers again.
I chuckled.
A valuable lesson indeed.
In the battlefield, trust no one, but the corpses in your wake, because they can’t bare their blades against you, only those alive can. It was almost poetic, if you think about it.