The moonlight flowed like water, clear and pure.
Even in the dead of night, the 4th Division's barracks — the busiest support division — teed with activity. Bandaged patients wandered about like mummies, mixing with the constant stream of people coming and going.
Therefore, Akira's figure didn't draw much attention. The Pharaoh's Mummy would feel naked compared to him.
Until he walked into the back mountain area of the Coordinated Relief Station, entering — a very modest dojo.
The next mont, countless eyes fixed on the dojo's main gate, waiting for the inevitable: another victim to erge.
An unwritten rule governed the Relief Station: no one was permitted to enter the private dojo in the back mountain area. Though no signs marked this prohibition, anyone who dared enter would be ejected swiftly and shafully. No exceptions.
However, after a mont of tense silence, realization dawned on the onlookers, drawing a collective gasp.
Hiss — Heavens above, the Captain hadn't thrown this kid out?!
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In the simple dojo, a white figure sat cross-legged on the clean wooden floor. Her braid fell forward, swaying gently with her movents, while a bamboo sword lay across her knees — the scene emanating an air of grace.
Unlike the usual Unohana they knew, she carried a sharper edge at this mont.
Seeing this setup, Akira had the urge to turn tail and run.
From previous experience, he knew all too well how terrifying the beautiful woman before him could be. During their previous sword fighting, his Danger Instinct would go off like a boiling kettle — sharp warning sounds coming one after another, relentless.
This ant Unohana could strike him down at any mont.
If her Sword Style weren't so appealing, he wouldn't have risked his life coming to this dojo so late at night...
Hmm, co to think of it... Could this be considered a moonlit rendezvous?
Looking at the scene before him, a rather dangerous thought crossed Akira's mind.
"Kisaragi-kun, my intuition tells ..." Unohana spoke softly in the silence, "Your current thoughts are quite inappropriate."
"A senior once told ." His gaze suddenly beca determined, "When the moonlight is at its most beautiful, soone who doesn't know how to appreciate it must be lacking in romance!"
Hearing this, Unohana fell silent, montarily unable to evaluate the young man's behavior.
You can't say he's not studious, as he ca to the dojo on ti tonight. Yet you can't say he is studious, as he's particularly resistant to joining 4th Division.
You can't say he's not afraid of death, as he won't dare approach when her killing intent flows, sensing her next move. Yet you can't say he is afraid of death, as he can't suppress his lecherous nature.
He really is an extrely contradictory fellow.
"Captain Unohana, where should we start learning?" Akira raised his hand and said, "I've completely mastered Cloud Parting and Darkness Severance. If—"
Before he could finish speaking, Unohana tossed him the bamboo sword from her knees.
"Demonstrate once."
He paused for a mont, then grinned, "Alright, watch this!"
Though his injuries hadn't fully healed, demonstrating sword techniques without using Reiatsu posed no challenge.
The bamboo sword danced as Akira's movents flowed from asured to swift. Like a bird soaring through the sky, becoming one with the air itself, he executed the two Death Sword Style techniques flawlessly. Through his transitions, he demonstrated not just mastery but his own unique interpretation of the forms.
Swift as the wind!
Watching the young man's display, Unohana's eyes brightened, as if discovering a rare treasure.
Unprecedented, unheard of!
A thousand years ago, she had visited every major dojo in Soul Society, encountering countless so-called geniuses — those with remarkable comprehension, those born with imnse Reiatsu, those naturally attuned to Zanjutsu...
But never had she seen anyone like Akira. After experiencing the sword techniques just once, he could replicate them perfectly and even infuse them with his own understanding.
Such talent surpassed even her own!
"One more ti." Her gentle voice commanded, brooking no refusal.
Akira scratched his head in confusion but, seeing her insistent expression, complied.
What he failed to grasp was that for Unohana, who lived and breathed Zanjutsu, watching perfect technique was a transcendent experience.
The imrsion in the forms, the sensation of the blade's path — these defied simple description.
After his third demonstration, her gaze transford once more: graceful, peaceful, serene.
Akira frowned as he studied the beautiful woman before him, inwardly puzzled.
Why's she giving off those zen master vibes right now?
"I now have a clear understanding of your level." Unohana said, deliberately ignoring the young man's inappropriate gaze — sothing she had grown accustod to over ti.
How to put it? It wasn't offensive.
"The Death Sword Style is a school I established in my early years." Her expression grew serious, "Long ago, I visited every school in Soul Society, exchanging techniques, testing my skills. The Death Sword Style erged after my first defeat."
As she spoke, she grasped the bamboo sword beside her and rose. Her expression turned solemn, killing intent radiating naturally.
From this mont, she began demonstrating two new moves from her arsenal:
Storm Cut (Arashi Kire) and Dragon Strike (Ryū Dageki)!
The teaching process proved remarkably simple. With his 'Heart of a God' enhancent, Akira's learning speed once again defied Unohana's understanding of genius.
However, her graceful movents were truly captivating.
The captain's large haori couldn't conceal her elegant figure. When she focused purely on demonstrating sword techniques, her deadly aura subdued — what a srizing sight, Sister Hana!
Akira gave a thumps up in silent appreciation.
Yet a sobering thought struck him. Unohana was earnestly teaching him Zanjutsu, and he was learning with equal sincerity. In essence, they had ford a master-disciple relationship, though they maintained their usual forms of address.
Wasn't he, then, being rather improper as a disciple?
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After the late-night teaching session, Akira crept back to his hospital room. He tiptoed to his bed, carefully slipped in, and turned his head—
Only to see a pair of bright eyes glead in the moonlight.
In the full moon's glow, he could clearly see the dark circles under Sōjun's eyes.
"Though it might be inappropriate to ask..." Their eyes t, and embarrassnt flickered across his face, "But I'm curious... This late at night, was Captain Unohana really just teaching you Zanjutsu?"
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T/N: If you want more Chapters like this, check out my Patreon! I'm constantly translating and the difference will keep getting bigger!
For just $1 you can access all the extra content, and descriptive images, costs only $2!
That's it and happy reading! (-‿◦)
/mrblackwing
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