The blade lights crisscrossed and separated under the moonlight.
There was no clash of Reiatsu, no abilities released from Zanpakutō, only the most primitive collision between Spirit Body and Zanpakutō.
After an unknown number of blade exchanges ended, the distance between the two was pulled open once again.
"Yachiru..." Unohana whispered this word, her voice carrying a tremor bordering on obsession. "Captain Soifon, you have mastered this art as well."
Soifon tilted her head. "What Yachiru? Isn't this just basic Zanjutsu?"
Unohana Retsu raised her blade and stepped forward, and the two engaged in another flurry of strikes.
"It was my own arrogance, Captain Soifon."
"'Yachiru' (Eight Thousand Styles) is the name I took for myself, believing I had mastered all the sword styles under heaven."
"Now it seems, Captain Soifon is a genius who comprehended it on her own."
In the intervals of combat, Unohana's voice faintly drifted through the sounds of clashing blades, carrying a slightly breathless tone.
Once again, a heavy two-handed cleave collided. Both were pushed back several meters by the recoil simultaneously, their soles ploughing deep traces into the ground covered in fallen leaves.
At the appropriate moment, they tacitly switched to [Genryū], gripping their swords with both hands to slash at their opponent simultaneously. This was the very proof that Soifon had mastered the Yachiru style.
The two stood a few steps apart, staring at each other while panting slightly. Their eyes held only the blazing heat of meeting a worthy match.
Then, almost simultaneously, they raised their hands to undo the Captain's Haori draped over their shoulders.
If the battle continued like this, injury was inevitable. But they couldn't go to work wearing tattered Captain's Haori; they would be reprimanded by His Excellency the Captain-Commander.
The pure white Haori were gently lifted, unfurled in the night breeze, and then hung on the tree branches behind them.
The instant the garments settled, their toes tapped the ground, and their figures once again turned into two blurred afterimages, crashing violently into each other!
This time, without the restriction of the wide robes, their speed was faster, leaving even less room for error.
Unknown time passed. Due to the special nature of the Shihakushō, Soifon's back was covered in fine beads of sweat, shimmering with a crystalline glow under the moonlight.
The same was true for Unohana's heaving chest.
Soifon had temporarily turned off the ability of [Blut Vene]; now was not the time to expose her Quincy power.
The Shihakushō on their bodies now bore several tears. Beneath the fabric, small sword wounds seeping with beads of blood were faintly visible. Sweat mixed with a little blood slid down their skin.
The braid Unohana Retsu wore over her chest had completely come undone during the fierce entanglement at some point.
Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, sticking messily to her sweat-soaked face and collarbones, rising and falling with her breathing.
At the same time, the lapel of the Shihakushō at her chest had fallen open slightly, revealing that hideous, old scar.
Soifon's gaze lingered on that scar for a split second before quickly moving away.
Unohana Retsu noticed her line of sight. She raised a hand to gently pull her collar, allowing Soifon to see it more clearly.
"Captain Soifon... aren't you surprised to see my wound?"
She asked, her tone no longer possessing its usual gentleness.
Soifon shook her head, brushing away a strand of hair obstructing her face. "As a Captain, having wounds on one's body is normal."
"It is also understandable... that Captain Unohana hides it."
Unohana Retsu looked at her quietly for a few seconds. Then, the corners of her mouth slowly curled into an arc. "You know that isn't what I wanted to ask, Captain Soifon."
Could it be... that Soifon feels no surprise at all regarding her true appearance beneath the mask?
"Years ago, didn't I already learn about this in the Fourth Division's little black room?"
Soifon found it somewhat amusing. Did Unohana really think she had concealed it well back then?
Even if Soifon didn't know the other party's background, she could sense the fighting intent deeply hidden beneath that body during combat.
"A powerful Kendo master in the World of the Living once said that when the strong fight, they can convey their feelings to each other through the collision of their swords."
Actually, no one said that; Soifon made it up herself. But the meaning conveyed was relatively simple and easy to understand.
"Hehe..."
Perhaps having satisfied her craving, Unohana Retsu raised her hand to sheath her sword. This single movement caused the wound on her shoulder to spill a few more lines of fresh blood.
She turned her head to glance at the wound. Instead of a pained expression, the corners of her mouth hooked into an almost joyous, satisfied arc.
Truly, a long-lost pain...
It was not the pleasure derived from low-level pain like self-harm, but the wound formed after a battle between equals, where the opponent's sharp blade broke through her defense.
This is the joy of battle...
"Thank you, Captain Soifon," she said softly, her voice light, yet clearly reaching Soifon's ears. "Tonight... I enjoyed myself very much."
Unohana Retsu's face still bore the residual look of excitement. It seemed her lingering interest had not yet faded, and she was suppressing it solely with rationality.
As expected of the First Kenpachi, truly a born battle maniac.
Soifon silently withdrew her Zanpakutō, tapped her toes to jump onto the tree branch, and retrieved the Captain's Haori both of them had hung there. She handed Unohana's back to her and intended to leave.
"Captain Soifon..."
Unohana Retsu's voice returned to its usual gentleness. Her gaze lingered on Soifon's unsightly Shihakushō for a few seconds before she spoke hesitantly.
"Are you sure... you want to return to the Second Division in that state?"
One could see Soifon's fabric had been slashed by the blade edge into several cuts of varying lengths. Some places only had the surface layer torn, while others went deep into the skin, revealing wounds beneath that seeped with blood filaments.
"Uh..."
Soifon looked down at her own 'battle-damaged set,' which could be called tragic, then looked up at Unohana—who was in about the same state.
Then, she rolled her eyes grumpily. "I wonder who made it look like this."
"Then let me treat Captain Soifon's wounds."
Unohana Retsu smiled harmlessly, leading Soifon to a distant, lucky, and intact large tree.
Pushing aside the tattered strips of cloth, a soft Kaidō light lit up in the palm of Unohana's hand. Her palm slowly covered Soifon's exposed, bleeding skin.
Afterward, she lifted the bindings on Soifon's back and extended her hand to Soifon's waist...
"It might tickle a little, please endure it, Captain Soifon."
Her expression was focused and peaceful, as if she had already restored her persona as the Captain of the Fourth Division.
Sensing the hand wandering over her wounds, Soifon had reason to suspect Unohana was doing it on purpose, but she had no evidence.
After a long time, the sword wounds on Soifon's body had been fully healed by her, leaving only the tattered Shihakushō still stained with its owner's blood.
[Task Triggered: The First Kenpachi's Kaidō]
[Task Completed]
[Reward Obtained: Kaidō Mastery (The more people you doctor to death, the more brilliant your medical skills)]
The not-so-long-lost mission panel appeared again.
PS: Written to exhaustion with this battle segment. One moment it's Kendo, the next it's swords; my brain is scrambled. I still haven't figured out why using a Zanpakutō is called Kendo (Kendo = Way of the Sword, but Zanpakutō are blades/katanas). ()
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