Chapter 205
Dang!
Unohana's Zanpakutō collided with Yuta's Zanpakutō, sparks scattering with every clash.
Unohana Yachiru was indeed formidable, her sword technique refined and overwhelming.
Neither of them released spiritual pressure nor activated Shikai, let alone Bankai. Their duel remained a contest of pure swordsmanship alone.
Even the names of their Zanpakutō were irrelevant here, as both seemed to wield their blades entirely through instinct and experience.
The exchange began with sheer speed.
Yuta's blade was fast, but Unohana's was faster-stabbing forward with such intensity that his responses nearly fell behind each strike.
Dang, dang, dang, dang!
The ringing of steel echoed continuously as sword met sword in rapid succession. To an ordinary observer, such as Kotetsu Isane, the movements would have been completely invisible. The blades were far too fast for the eye to follow.
Yet Unohana quickly realized something unexpected: Yuta's ability to comprehend and adjust was astonishing. He was learning with every clash at a pace that unsettled even her.
One thrust from Yuta's blade stopped a mere centimeter in front of Unohana's nose.
That tiny distance was enough to decide the life of a master. She noted it closely as her eyes narrowed.
The second thrust brushed across her chest, slicing through fabric and leaving a faint mark on her uniform without touching her body.
The third stabbed deeper, and this time blood welled at her abdomen. Her shihakushō darkened where red seeped through the cloth.
She froze for a moment-his strike had actually cut her. The pain was sharp and undeniable, the kind she had not experienced in countless years. Her pupils dilated as memory of such sensation returned vividly to her senses.
Her lips curved faintly as her hands adjusted on the hilt of Minazuki. She pressed harder, her techniques flowing and layering into complex patterns that few in history had been able to read. Each strike folded into the next until her swordplay resembled endless threads of tangled paths, impossible to unravel.
Yuta adapted again. Their blades whirled against one another as sparks scattered into the dimming light. Each time she broke into a new rhythm, his sword mirrored and then expanded upon it. Even she could no longer perfectly predict his next movement through his body's shifting mechanics.
Soon his swordplay surrounded her like a storm of blades, only to break through her defense long enough to shear off a lock of her dark hair.
Two strands fell together between them, drifting in the breeze. They tangled briefly before the wind carried them toward a tree in the distance. Both fighters returned to their stances, eyes locked in recognition of the other's growth and intent.
By the time evening settled in, their duel had yet to reach a conclusion. If left unchecked, it might have lasted seven days and nights before either would falter. Swordsmanship in its entirety could not be mastered in a single moment's battle.
Yuta finally lowered his blade slightly, his voice steady.
"Why don't we end it here today and continue tomorrow?"
"...Alright." Unohana's tone had softened, carrying composure rather than lingering aggression. She gathered her braids before her chest and quietly sheathed her Zanpakutō. Her eyes shifted from the hardened white of bloodlust back to calm black serenity, her demeanor transforming once more from Unohana Yachiru to Unohana Retsu.
She turned to him with a faint smile. "Captain Yuta, why don't you stay here tonight and allow me to prepare a meal for you?"
"Since Captain Unohana has invited me, I accept," Yuta replied, though his gaze drifted briefly to the wound on her abdomen. "But shouldn't you treat your injury first?"
Unohana touched the scar lightly. Even the simplest movement carried pain, though she had already stopped the bleeding through immediate treatment earlier. She dismissed it calmly. "That will be enough." To her, the scar was not something to erase but something to remember.
Outside the tea room, Kotetsu Isane lingered anxiously. At intervals she pressed her fist into her other palm, the tension audible in the snapping sound it made. "Captain Yuta has been inside since this morning, and it is already evening," she muttered under her breath. "There are still somany in need of medical care, yet Captain Unohana remains here with him… What could they be doing in silence all this time?"
She leaned her ear against the wooden frame to listen, but no sound carried through. Her thoughts circled suspiciously until the door abruptly slid open, knocking her backward onto the floorboards. She froze as she looked up into the serene but imposing gaze of her captain.
"Isane… were you eavesdropping?" Unohana's voice was calm but edged with authority, her faint smile seeming kind yet carrying enough weight to make Isane's back chill instantly. She quickly stammered out, "C-Captain, the medical division still has patients awaiting your treatment…"
Unohana turned slightly over her shoulder to Yuta. "Dinner will have to wait for a while." He only gave a nod in acknowledgment.
Later that evening, Unohana and Yuta sat together at the low dining table Isane had also been invited to join. Carefully set plates lined the table as Unohana prepared the dishes herself. Isane sat stiffly, skeptical as to what the results would be. "Captain Unohana… is your cooking truly edible?" she whispered in concern.
Unohana's eyes narrowed faintly. "Do you doubt me?"
"N-no, Captain, that's not what I meant," Isane answered, nervous sweat forming on her brow.
"Then be patient," Unohana replied evenly, resting a hand momentarily on her shoulder in reassurance.
The food was presented shortly after. Isane tried the first bite cautiously, but quickly broke into a cough as her face reddened. "T-this… it's far too spicy…!" she managed to say.
Unohana tasted it herself without issue. "Is it? I hardly notice," she said carefully. Yuta ate without sign of discomfort as well, noting only a moderate level of spice that did not trouble him. Isane could only watch them both in silence as her own mouth burned.
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