"She even came to me for a date."
Ran Yan casually revealed the real reason behind Unohana Retsu's late-night visit.
"A date?" Aizen blinked.
"The captain of the Fourth Division… the one who heals the wounded… is actually asking you out—for a duel—in the middle of the night?"
The irony wasn't lost on him.
"Yep," Ran Yan replied, adjusting the Zanpakutō at his side. "Unexpected, but… intriguing."
Without hesitation, he began walking toward the source of the Reiatsu.
"Interesting."
Aizen's eyes gleamed as he watched Ran Yan's back disappear into the night.
"So this is the real Gotei 13… much deeper waters than I imagined."
"Not all captains are like Hirako Shinji—fit only as test subjects."
With his interest piqued, he followed.
The Reiatsu trail led them away from the Academy, out into the wild, to a secluded forest clearing atop a high hill bathed in moonlight.
There, standing tall like a lone flower under the moon, was Unohana Retsu.
The glow of the moon painted her figure in soft silver, hiding the madness that stirred beneath her calm demeanor.
"Hope you don't mind I brought an audience, Captain Unohana," Ran Yan said, stepping onto the hill with calm steps.
"If you fail to entertain me…""…perhaps I'll kill him instead to relieve the boredom."
Unohana's soft voice was like silk—but her words were laced with blades.
"Leave him there. Your blood might not be enough."
Ran Yan chuckled. "That won't be necessary."
"Is that so?" Unohana's tone turned sharper."Then draw your sword."
"Let me see it. The blade that scarred Shinji's shoulder. That fierce, wild swordplay—I can no longer restrain my own."
Ran Yan narrowed his eyes.
"So it really was that wound."
No one could draw out Unohana Retsu… except for the thrill of battle. Especially the taste of a new sword style—one the Soul Society had never seen.
"The one and only…"
Zanpakutō: Hundred-Step Flying Sword.
His voice hadn't even reached her ears when his form blurred out of sight—Shunpo activated, and he reappeared in front of her like a ghost.
His blade swung straight for her waist.
CLANG!
Unohana reacted instantly, drawing her Zanpakutō with a single hand, blocking the blow mid-swing.
A storm of sparks lit up the forest like fireflies, casting eerie shadows around them.
"Pretty petals from the Kuchiki clan's garden…" she muttered with disdain.
"I forgot to mention—I created that style."
"But this… this dull technique is not what I came for."
With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed a torrent of Reiatsu, pushing Ran Yan back through sheer force alone.
She didn't even move her feet.
But she didn't let up.
As Ran Yan twisted mid-air, Unohana surged forward like a specter. Her blade flashed—aimed straight for his chest.
"Way of the Sword: Two Breaks."
Still calm, still composed.
Ran Yan switched to a two-handed grip and slashed downward.
A massive golden arc of Reiatsu exploded from the blade, like a wave crashing over the night sky. The trees below shuddered under the pressure.
Unohana did not dodge.
She planted her feet and raised her sword with one hand.
The wave struck her—and stopped.
Not only did she block it, she attacked.
From the folds of her sleeve, a small hidden blade shot out, sharp as a viper's fang—aimed right for Ran Yan's neck.
"Is this really the medical division's captain?"
Aizen's eyes narrowed.
Even with his breadth of knowledge, Unohana's blade work shocked him.
In just a few seconds, he had already counted five sword styles he couldn't even comprehend.
"She's not the Fourth Division… She's the real Eleventh."
"Even Isshin Shiba wouldn't last long against her."
Aizen felt a flicker of anticipation.
"Tonight… was the right night to come."
"If even Unohana struggles… then I'll finally see just how far my brother has gone."
He no longer saw the gap between them.
He couldn't see Ran Yan's limits.
That alone was terrifying.
"Enough warm-up."
Unohana's lips curled into a smile, a glint in her eyes like a predator.
"How long will you keep holding back?"
"Ran Yan…"
"Use your sword to please me."
Ran Yan's smile returned.
"So that's what you're after…"
"Then…"
"Let me oblige."
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed his Zanpakutō into the air.
"HYAAAAGH—!"
The instant it left his hand, a deafening roar echoed through the forest.
The blade shimmered with golden light and took the shape of a dragon, roaring across the sky—its presence shaking the very earth.
Birds fled, beasts scattered, even the trees seemed to tremble.
CLANG!
Unohana's eyes widened in excitement.
The golden dragon danced above her, then swung its tail—her sword flew from her hands, and several ancient trees behind her were cleaved in half.
Above it all, Ran Yan stood calmly in the sky, palm extended downward.
The golden dragon circled once in the air.
Then it descended.
Fangs bared. Blade gleaming.
A falling star of raw, divine swordsmanship.
Unohana didn't flinch.
"This… this is it."
"This is the sword I've been waiting for."
"Let me cut it."
"Let me cut you."
Her smile widened—not cruelly, but joyously.
She had waited decades—centuries—for this.
And now, the drought was over.
She had found her worthy opponent.