"It’s been a very long ti since soone pointed a sword at ," Unohana said, her gaze resting on the blade in Tōma’s hands. It was slightly longer than a standard asauchi.
"Oh?" Fujimoto Tōma replied casually. "Guess today broke the streak."
"If you put that sword away now," Unohana said, her tone sharpening, her eyes darkening, "I can pretend nothing happened."
Tōma felt the shift imdiately. He straightened slightly.
"I’ve already issued the challenge," he said calmly. "I’m not backing down."
"Hm... hm hm..."
Unohana suddenly laughed.
It wasn’t the soft laugh the Fourth Division knew.
It was warped. Thrilled. Dangerous.
"I’ll say this once," she said, her voice carrying a madness that didn’t match her gentle face at all. "If you fail to satisfy ... you will die."
Tōma’s eyes lit up with interest.
"Don’t worry," he said. "I’ll make it worth your ti."
"Good." Unohana turned sharply. "Follow ."
She stepped forward, no trace of warmth left in her posture.
Tōma smiled and followed.
On the way, several shinigami spotted them and instinctively moved to greet their captain. Then they saw her eyes.
They froze.
Not a single one dared to speak.
By tomorrow, the rumors about Captain Unohana would gain yet another terrifying version.
They stopped deep underground.
"The underground prison of the Academy?" Tōma frowned. "That’s an odd place for a spar."
Unohana didn’t answer. She walked straight in.
The guards didn’t stop her.
Tōma followed, puzzled, until they descended to the eighth level.
The lowest layer.
Where the worst criminals were sealed.
Unohana halted in a massive, empty space.
"This is Muken," Tōma said softly, looking around. "Didn’t expect it to be this... wide."
Unohana turned.
She undid the braid tied at her chest, letting her long black hair fall down her back.
Tōma’s pupils shrank.
Across her chest was a grotesque scar. Deep. Old. Violent.
She brushed her fingers across it.
"This," she said quietly, "was left by him."
She didn’t continue.
After a mont, she looked at Tōma again.
"If you die here," she said lightly, "no one will ever know."
She drew her blade.
A plain sword. Like an asauchi.
Tōma had seen her release before. A healing-type manifestation. No combat power. Which ant this blade was her true weapon.
"Relax," Tōma said. "You won’t be killing ."
Then he tilted his head.
"Becoming a captain requires Bankai, right? Or are you not planning to use it?"
"That depends," Unohana replied, gripping her sword, "on whether you’re worthy of seeing it."
"That won’t take long."
No signal was given. No referee. No witness.
Yet in the sa instant, both of them moved.
Their swords collided.
Bang!
Both smiled.
One clash was enough.
Pressure. Strength. Angle. Timing.
This was real combat.
They didn’t use techniques. No tricks. No releases.
Just two people swinging blades like primitives who only knew how to kill.
And yet, every strike was lethal.
They separated after countless collisions.
"You’re good," Tōma said sincerely.
Unohana stared at her sword, then smiled.
A beautiful smile.
And a terrifying one.
"You too."
In this world... besides that man... there was soone else who could please her.
How wonderful.
It didn’t matter that he appeared late.
As long as she could still fight.
As long as she could still swing her sword.
Waiting was worth it.
"Still not using Bankai?" Tōma asked quietly. "I want you stronger."
"Heh," Unohana replied. "You haven’t used your real power either. Not even your true release."
"Sharp eye," Tōma nodded.
"So show more," she said loudly, raising her sword. "Make happy. If you can... I’ll use Bankai."
"Then don’t blink."
Tōma’s blade crackled.
Thunder roared.
"First Form – Thunderflash."
He vanished.
Lightning filled the air, tearing toward Unohana at a speed the eye couldn’t follow.
She narrowed her eyes.
Pure speed. Perfect precision.
But not enough.
She swung.
And—
He disappeared.
Impossible.
Footsteps echoed everywhere. Walls. Ground. Ceiling.
Thunder and motion ca from all directions.
Her danger sense scread.
Boom!
A blade of lightning struck.
Blood sprayed.
Steel clashed.
Unohana blocked it at the last mont.
Tōma grinned.
Good. That was good.
"I’ve got you!" Unohana laughed wildly, refusing to let him retreat.
She attacked, her blade weaving an inescapable net.
Tōma didn’t dodge.
He t it head-on.
"Second Form – Eightfold Crown."
Speed exploded.
Their swords collided thousands of tis in an instant.
Unohana’s technique was superior.
Tōma’s speed was overwhelming.
Neither could exploit the other.
One mistake ant death.
The clash lasted long enough to stretch nerves thin.
"Now this is fun!" Tōma shouted, forcing a final clash that sent them flying apart.
"You’re incredible," Unohana said, breathless and smiling.
So was he.
Then—
Tōma vanished again.
She looked up.
Sword-light flooded the sky.
"Third Form – Wild Rain Slash!"
If before it was a drizzle...
This was a catastrophic downpour.
"Barrier Art – Severing Void!"
A massive shield ford above her.
It shattered.
The rain crashed down like a falling galaxy.
Unohana’s power surged.
She cut through it. Again and again.
But sword-light slipped through.
Blood blood across her body.
The rain stopped.
Tōma looked at her.
"Still holding back? If you don’t use Bankai now, you won’t get another chance."
Unohana laughed.
Loudly.
"Who would have thought," she said, "that I’d be pushed this far... or that I’d use Bankai against soone else."
She placed one hand on the blade.
Dragged it along the edge.
Blood coated the sword.
Its shape twisted into a blood-stained curved blade.
The world changed.
A freezing voice echoed.
"Bankai... Minazuki."
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