"We're going straight for the zanpakuto?"
The gathered shinigami were taken aback; none expected Shutara Senjumaru to move so decisively.
Shunsui had to bite the bullet. "Senjumaru, I suggest you wait and hear the situation with the zanpakuto first."
Even as he spoke, he felt embarrassed. How was he supposed to say it? That, aside from the Head Captain, every shikai and bankai had manifested and turned against them? That was beyond humiliating. And he'd have to lay out his own zanpakuto's abilities, plus everyone else's, detail by detail—otherwise, what if they ended up getting this Zero Division member killed…?
While Shunsui was still sweating over how to explain Katen Kyokotsu , Senjumaru only smiled lightly.
"They're just zanpakuto. Without their masters to wield them, how strong could they be?"
She turned toward First Division—toward the half-dome of blood-red barrier nearby. Her figure flickered, appearing by the scarlet shell. One of her six golden skeletal hands reached out to touch it.
"Let's start by resolving this blade."
She couldn't see into the crimson space, but she could feel it: a bankai.
Every shinigami present felt their scalps prickle.
That was Unohana and her zanpakuto Minazuki (All Things End)'s bankai. From the very moment Minazuki manifested, master and blade had been locked in absolute bloodlust, ignoring Muramasa's coaxing and plunging straight into bankai combat. A week had flashed by; the scarlet bankai still held. No one knew what was happening inside, and no one dared interrupt. Who knew what waited within?
"Don't touch—" Shunsui's voice cracked sharp, but he was a beat too slow.
One of Senjumaru's golden arms lifted a needle-like blade and traced a delicate stab-and-slice. The bloody space split like cloth.
Instantly, a stench of iron slammed out. Blood—like a river—surged forth.
Blood. Practically blood slurry, thick as syrup, painting the shattered plaza of First Division in a congealing varnish that crawled outward. The sight alone made skin crawl.
Shunsui stared at the spreading red and rasped, "This… looks like real blood…"
Normally, if blood was conjured by a zanpakuto's ability, it vanished when the ability ended. Only blood that wasn't created by a zanpakuto remained like the real thing.
Soi Fong jolted. "Then over these days… just how much blood did Captain Unohana lose…?"
The crimson pool of Minazuki's world unraveled. What lay beyond turned everyone cold: two blood-drenched figures stood opposed, blades in hand, rivulets running from their clothes to drip back into the pool. Even at a glance, the killing intent boiling off them felt suffocating. The blood beneath their feet was a lake, and when the bankai dropped, it sloshed outward like a tide.
"Th-that killing aura… just looking at it makes it hard to breathe," Ikkaku stammered.
The other shinigami nodded mutely, cold sweat on their brows. They'd learned in recent days that Unohana was, in truth, a woman who loved battle. But seeing it with their own eyes—this was madness made flesh. Terrifying.
Both blood-dark figures turned in unison, eyes full of murder as they fixed on Senjumaru.
"So it's you?"
"You disturbed our battle."
A twinge of unease tugged at Senjumaru. Why did these two make even a member of the Royal Guard feel danger?
"Wait—"
Before she could finish, the pair flashed in from left and right, blood-colored blades falling.
"Die!"
Senjumaru's face changed. The killing aura rolling off them made even her feel fear. Six golden skeleton arms blurred into motion.
Clang—clang—clang—!
Metal screamed; sparks scattered. Blood-red arcs and gold limbs tangled, painting the air in two colors—scarlet and gold—until blade and hand vanished into pure momentum.
The longer Senjumaru traded blows, the more alarmed she became. These two crimson women weren't on the same level as Kenpachi at all; they were at least her equal—if not worse for her. She flicked a glance at her golden arms and her heart thumped: that peerless hardness now wore white scuffs—and more than a few shallow cuts.
That split second of distraction cost her. One of the red figures slashed with an eerie angle.
"—ah!"
Blood flashed. A line opened across Senjumaru's shoulder.
Not far off, Shunsui and the others swallowed in unison as the three women clashed—and silently began backing away.
Ten meters. Twenty. Thirty…
They didn't stop until a kilometer out. Any closer and they felt they'd be dragged in and cut to pieces.
After a few minutes of watching, Toshiro couldn't help it. "Captain Shunsui, shouldn't we… stop them?"
From the look of it, Unohana's zanpakuto hadn't betrayed her like the others. If so, there was no need to fight—both sides were Seireitei's own.
Shunsui and the other captains turned to him like he'd grown two heads. "Then why don't you go?"
Toshiro glanced toward the center—and cold sweat sluiced down. "…Pass."
Right now, Unohana and Minazuki were driven by pure slaughter-high. Even a dog charging in would get hewn in two.
"…That feeling…" Senjumaru's eyes narrowed through the flurry. "You're… Yachiru!"
After half a day of killing each other, she finally recognized Unohana's true name—shock blooming in her gaze. "Didn't you hang up the blade?"
She'd seen Yachiru Unohana in the old days—same generation as Yamamoto Genryusai—but they'd never been close. Word among her peers was that Unohana had grown gentle, abandoning her former bloodthirst.
Looking now… to hell with that. She seemed even madder than before.
But no matter what Senjumaru shouted, Unohana and Minazuki, lost in the ecstasy of the duel, couldn't hear. One woman and one blade wore the same fever-sick smile.
"Come. Let's keep killing."
In the Shihoin estate, Cole—having drained another row of houses—felt the burst of reiatsu from First Division and blinked wide. "What's going on over there? Two 'Flower-sis'? They're fighting the Royal Guard—and going hard…"
Curiosity burned, but he forced himself to look away. "Curiosity kills the cat. No way I'm going now."
If he went at a time like this, the one getting cut wouldn't be the Royal Guard. He'd be the one chopped to pieces. If not chopped—well, squeezed bone-dry. His kidneys simply couldn't take it.
Senjumaru's embroidery-needle blade shuttled like lightning, weaving. In barely a breath, palm-sized cloth patches dotted Unohana and Minazuki—but before any garment could form, two blood blades flashed—
Shwip, shwip, shwip!
The patches were shredded to dust.
Gritting her teeth, Senjumaru worked six golden arms at once and yelled at Shunsui, "Captain Shunsui, deal with this madwoman—quickly. I didn't come to spar with her."
She could easily restrain Kenpachi—but Unohana was another beast. The woman wasn't much, if at all, weaker than her; and now, with master and blade as two, they were all but pressing her into the dirt.
One more heartbeat of distraction and two more cuts scored her.
Shunsui could only offer a bitter smile. "I told you: learn about the zanpakuto before you swing. Who knew you'd be this rash?"
A tiny, unworthy pride flickered in him even as he spoke. That's what arrogance gets you, Royal Guard. Doesn't feel great to take it on the chin, does it?
Senjumaru nearly popped a vein. They were still running their mouths? "If you don't save me," she hissed, "I'll drag these two lunatics right over to you."
Two more slashes laced her robe; bile of frustration prickled her tongue. Royal Guard or not, her kenjutsu was nowhere near Unohana's.
Shunsui felt the danger spike. He studied Unohana for a few seconds and reached a grim conclusion: in their current state, Unohana and Minazuki might carve him up, too. If Senjumaru lured them his way, the streets would run red.
Sweat beaded at his brow. He didn't dare stand idle. He crept to a cautious distance, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted:
"Captain Unohana! Cole's swordcraft has leapt again—top-tier tenth dan! He invites you to duel!"
Then he bolted at full speed.
He had no desire to become a target of the two Yachiru.
The moment the words left him, Unohana and Minazuki froze. One woman, one blade flushed—tongues darting to wet lips.
"Cole-kun…"
"He's grown stronger…"
They gripped their blades tighter, memories of past duels with Cole glittering hot in their eyes.
"Cole-kun… wait for me."
With a single step, Unohana and Minazuki vanished, not even sparing Senjumaru a look.
Senjumaru exhaled, then peered at Shunsui, intrigued. "What did you say to provoke such a reaction? Who is this Cole? I've never heard the name."
No one knew better than she what state Unohana had been in—kill-mad, to the point of forgetting kin. And yet Shunsui had triggered her with a single phrase—no, with a single name. Whose subordinate was this, to command such savagery?
Shunsui looked like he might cry. "Cole is the man Captain Unohana acknowledges—the only one said to satisfy her."
The instant he remembered how he'd just sold Cole out, a soft despair washed over him. That brat would come for his head.
"Six hundred years ago, I visited Seireitei," Senjumaru mused. "There was no such man then. He's only appeared in the last few centuries?"
Shunsui nodded, lifeless.
"Less than six hundred years to rival Unohana," Senjumaru said with a small smile. "Quite the talent. Her swordcraft isn't something most can approach."
Even without joining the Royal Guard, Unohana was a name every member knew. A swordsman maniac obsessed with every path under heaven—so strange that even in freak-ridden Seireitei, she stood out as an oddity. In pure kenjutsu, she was peerless. If Yamamoto had beaten her, it had been force over finesse.
Shunsui's expression turned odd.
A vein ticked at Senjumaru's temple; six golden fists clenched. "Shunsui Kyōraku—are you mocking me?"
"Er—Senjumaru," Shunsui coughed, "that boy named Cole just turned sixteen this year."
"???"
She stared blankly for a beat. "Just turned eighteen?"
"That's not—" Shunsui's mouth twitched. So she had a sense of humor after all.
Senjumaru, uncharacteristically dazed, looked toward the direction Unohana had disappeared. "Sixteen…?"
"Sixteen," Shunsui confirmed.
"Literal sixteen?"
"Literal."
Senjumaru sucked a breath. "By what did he conquer Unohana? Don't tell me… swordcraft?"
She'd have sooner believed it was by flesh. Swordcraft—the kind that left even her in the dust?
Shunsui sighed. "Swordcraft, yes. Age aside, even against the old man, he can trade a few blows now."
Thinking of Cole's strength… and of Cole's pettiness… and of how he'd just sicced Unohana and Minazuki on him, Shunsui felt hollowed out. He was probably—
Probably going to die.
The next second, from the depths of Seireitei, a scream peeled the air.
"Shunsui Kyōraku!!!"
"You just wait!!!"
"Flower-sis!! Calm down!! Big Dumpling!! You calm—aaagh!!!"
(End of Chapter)
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