5th year of the Ansei era (1858 AD)
Amagurai sat cross-legged on the roof of her dojo, gazing out across her territory. She was feeling slightly stunned: half an hour ago Tenyoshō had informed her she was now skilled enough that he was prepared to entrust her education to his other half, the gentler yin spirit of her zanpakutō. Teninshō was different to his other half as when called forth with the phrase "Judge all under Heaven" his shikai changed so it had no sharp edge at all, making it a katana-shaped piece of blunt metal. It was still dangerous in competent hands: she would now be learning how to break bones, stun and otherwise incapacitate after over a decade of bloody slaughter. Koyabashi and the nearer reaches of Akatsuki were far less dangerous to ordinary souls now as criminals preferred to stay inside closed doors after dark instead of roaming the streets. People whispered of the Shuhitokiri, the vermillion manslayer who stalked the night and slew evildoers.
Amagurai did not like killing at all; it didn't fit with the fundamental tenet by which her zanpakutō expected her to abide, that her blade was to be raised in the defence of all people. The people she was killing weren't being protected. Tenyoshō had just told her that people who chose to do evil to others had forfeited their right to protection and could be killed to ensure the survival of everyone else. He also told her that yes, in the long run murder was unproductive, which was one of the lessons he'd wanted her to learn. Bloodshed solves nothing, he'd whispered in her mind, Anyone who seeks to change the world through killing those who oppose him is doomed to fail.
This had eventually led Amagurai to where she now was, sitting on her roof listening to a very different voice in her mind. A quiet, self-deprecating, polite and somewhat rustic voice that talked about peace, understanding and forgiveness.
Amagurai had seen nearly forty teenagers go from the streets around her home to the Shinō Academy since settling in Koyabashi and her fortified dojo now protected a territory that included a tannery, a tailor and two bars, one of which had a brothel upstairs. Her dojo also hosted two permanent teachers in addition to herself and finally had a proper front door. One of said teachers was a genuine jujutsu master and the other was a lady who taught tantōjutsu: knife fighting. Despite her zanpakutō casually informing her that she was now so skilled in battōjutsu that she could rightly bear the title of Battōsai, Amagurai did not offer lessons in satsujin-ken to her students. Instead she taught them how to run over roofs, climb up walls and cross unstable ground and also how to find and use their reiryoku. It made her heart swell with delight to see a gawky pupil in mismatched clothing and bare feet scramble over broken tiles without knocking even one of them loose.
Lately she'd had occasional visitors from Seireitei, shinigami she'd plucked off the streets as children and granted a home to before taking them to join the Academy. They visited in ones and twos, Stopping by to see her and mess around with the children in the dojo. The bat yōkai had left years ago and opened an apothecary; the canny kumori had learnt to weave illusions and hid his inhuman appearance behind a glamour. The inu-yōkai still dozed outside, now just to one side of the main door, and many would-be thieves had discovered to their chagrin that his lazy exterior hid a canny mind and very sharp teeth.
Having more reliable adults around to watch over the children meant Amagurai could visit Jūshirō more often, which she took advantage of as often as possible. He frequently suffered from relapses of the strange illness that festered in his lungs and she had eventually managed to develop a way to ease his pain: an odd little trick with spirit energy that enabled her to breathe for him so he did not have to struggle to stay alive moment by moment as he coughed up blood.
Most of the dojo and neighbours knew she had someone she was close to but none of them had any idea who it was; the local women had a habit of gossiping about it and speculating from time to time.
It amused Amagurai that most people thought she was male. True, she did wear men's' clothing almost exclusively and they hid her somewhat modest figure very well, but her face was all curves and very few men had the inclination to grow their hair down to hid-thigh in a hime cut. It wasn't like she used male speech patterns either. Her fondness for cherry pink haori was also a clue, as were the embroidered obi she wore. But the fact remained that everyone who didn't actually live in the dojo and know her personally was convinced that 'Nishi-sensei' was male. The children thought it was hilarious and went out of their way to encourage the confusion.
Satsujin-ken translates as 'murdering sword', indicating a sword style designed for battle and death rather than self-defense. Battōjutsu is the art of rapidly drawing the blade from its sheath and attacking in the same movement; the title 'battōsai' is made up but suggests a person who is a master of this technique.