In the rear courtyard of the Katori-ryu Dojo, a crimson maple tree of unknown age stood silently by the wall. Katori Nanatsuki gripped the scabbard at his waist tightly with his left hand, his thumb pressed lightly against the guard. A gentle breeze passed through the treetop, causing the maple leaves to sway lightly in rhythm. A few leaves broke free, startled into flight. In that instant, a flash of sword light suddenly sliced through the yard. The drifting maple leaves were split in half mid-air and slowly fluttered down, blending into the carpet of fallen leaves. With a twist of his wrist, Nanatsuki sheathed his sword and began counting the bisected leaves on the ground. He soon realized—one of the maple leaves remained intact. 'Missed one... That's one mistake today.' "'When the mind wanders, the hand falters,'" Nanatsuki sighed inwardly. His nose twitched—he could smell the herbal scent coming from the kitchen. 'The medicine's ready. Better bring it over first.' A short while later. Nanatsuki arrived at the room on the left side of the courtyard, carrying a bowl of herbal medicine that pulsed with a dense spiritual energy. He slid open the door. Inside lay a sickly beauty. "Time for another dose?" The woman had already awoken when he approached. She was none other than Katori Batsu'unsai , the former 8th Division Captain. Her face was pale as paper, her body frail beyond belief—there was no trace of the grandeur one might expect from a former captain of the Gotei 13. Nanatsuki lit the lamp on the desk, brightening the room. "The medicine's ready," he said, placing the bowl before her. After drinking the herbal decoction, a faint flush of color returned to Batsu'unsai's cheeks. Her spiritual pressure gradually stabilized after a moment of rest. Only then did the weight on Nanatsuki's heart ease slightly. "How long have I been bedridden this time?" Batsu'unsai thought aloud. She couldn't even remember how many doses she'd had. "Feels like I've been lying here forever. I want to stretch my legs—help me up, will you?" Her voice was soft, yet pleasant—often reminding Nanatsuki of a voice actress he used to like in his previous life, Kiritani Hana. She reached her hands toward him like a child asking for a hug. "This is the thirty-second day," Nanatsuki replied as he gently helped her up. Each time he went to Captain Unohana for medicine, it was a week's supply. This was already the fifth batch. "Looks like it got worse again... Last time, I only needed twenty days of rest..." Batsu'unsai gave him a glance and changed her tone, "But I'm fine, Nanatsuki." "Do you think I can't tell whether you're okay or not?" he said, exasperated. Her condition was clearly deteriorating. Each relapse required a longer period of bed rest. The Spiritual Pressure Core was the foundation of a spirit body's stability—and Batsu'unsai's had been permanently damaged during centuries of battle, with wounds so deep that not even Kaido could mend them. Among the 13 Divisions, the most skilled healer was Captain Unohana of the 4th Division. But even she could only suppress Batsu'unsai's condition temporarily, not cure it. Worse, the damage would only deepen over time. Now that her illness had worsened again, even Unohana might be reaching her limit. "It's been... about a year since I stepped down, hasn't it?" Batsu'unsai tugged lightly at her hair, tying her long black locks into segments with a crimson ribbon. She usually liked to keep it braided, but this extended illness had kept her bedridden too long. The braid draped naturally over her right shoulder, its length cradled by her generous curves. She picked up a white silk sash and tied it delicately around her slender waist, knotting it at the front. Their faces shared a clear resemblance—only the brows and eyes set them apart. Nanatsuki had sharp, heroic features. Batsu'unsai's face, meanwhile, was gentler and sweetly charming. It was this resemblance that brought them together. Ten years ago, Nanatsuki had transmigrated into this world, wandering the Rukongai aimlessly. Not long after, he had a chance encounter with Batsu'unsai while she was on a mission there. Noticing how much he resembled her, she took him in under her family name and declared him her younger brother. Ever since, he'd trained in swordsmanship under her guidance. "Still two weeks to go before the full year," Nanatsuki said, picking up the glasses by her pillow and handing them to her. Batsu'unsai's condition had deteriorated so badly that she'd lost the strength to lead, and had formally stepped down last year to recuperate at home. After learning about her injury, Nanatsuki also began studying Kaido in hopes of easing her pain. But even his healing skills could only provide minor relief when her condition flared up. "How's your training with Senmai-Oroshi going?" Batsu'unsai asked, adjusting her glasses. "Almost there. I only miss occasionally when I'm off-form," he said, lifting a haori from the rack and draping it gently over her shoulders. "That's pretty good progress," she nodded. "A few days ago, Kotetsu Ayane came to visit. She mentioned there's an opening for a swordsmanship instructor at the Shin'o Spiritual Arts Academy. I told her I'd like to recommend you." Kotetsu Ayane used to be Batsu'unsai's vice-captain. She was now the principal of the academy. She had visited a few days ago, but Nanatsuki had been out picking up medicine from the 4th Division. He'd met her a few times in the past during Batsu'unsai's previous relapses, so they weren't strangers. "Me, teaching at Shin'o? But what about the dojo..." Nanatsuki hesitated. With Batsu'unsai unwell, even handling simple 8th Division matters had become burdensome. There was no energy left for running the dojo. It had fallen into disrepair for years now, though it was always Batsu'unsai's intention to pass it down to him. "Nanatsuki, I'd love for you to reopen the dojo someday, but without the strength to back it, no one will come—even if you did open the doors again." "My spiritual pressure grows far too slowly," he said quietly. "I'm lagging behind." He remembered the Bleach anime from his past life. He may not recall every detail, but the general plot remained clear in his mind. This world wasn't safe—dark times would one day engulf the entire Soul Society. That's why he never dared slack off. He trained with the sword every day. His swordsmanship now could easily rival that of seated officers. But his spiritual pressure remained stagnant—barely at the level of an ordinary foot soldier. "You've only recently become a Shinigami. There's still time to build yourself up," Batsu'unsai said gently. "But even at your current level, your sword skills are more than enough to teach at Shin'o. If you're looking to find a gifted disciple, there's no better place than the Academy." "Alright. An extra income wouldn't hurt. We still owe Captain Unohana a lot of money, after all," Nanatsuki agreed. The medicine that stabilized her core was incredibly expensive. Batsu'unsai's life savings weren't nearly enough to cover the cost. In fact, they were heavily in debt. Just then, Nanatsuki blinked. A string of text suddenly appeared in front of his eyes. When he focused on it, the words became clearer: [Recommendation from Katori Batsu'unsai received. Instructor System activated.] [Teaching students will grant feedback-based rewards.]