Since the moment I gained consciousness a thousand years ago, I've owned nothing but the name Unohana and the sword in my hand.
A dull world. A lifeless world. A false world. There was nothing that stirred my soul—aside from slaughter and blood.
Fighting. Killing. Endless carnage.
I've long lost track of how many lives I've taken, just as no one counts the breaths they take. Breathing sustains life, and for me, killing… was merely the way I sustained myself, brought myself joy, and sought my identity.
They called me Yachiru, a name cloaked in reverence, fear, and awe.
Yet even after mastering all the sword techniques of the Soul Society, the world seemed even duller, more lifeless, more false.
Until he appeared—Yamamoto Genryusai.
He was strong. Stronger than any opponent I had ever faced. I lost.
It wasn't to his swordsmanship that I succumbed, but to the inescapable inferno of his hellfire.
Perhaps it was for the best. Unohana… in the end, a flower cannot escape its fate of withering beneath the blazing sun, no matter how much blood it absorbs.
Yet he didn't take my life. Instead, he proposed an intriguing agreement—an invitation to join the Gotei 13 as a captain to face the Sternritter.
A group of… pitiful wretches.
Their frail bodies, flawed battle techniques, and laughable control over spiritual energy. Only their blood provided me with fleeting moments of pleasure.
But the world grew even duller. In the Seireitei, I was bound by the agreement not to kill my comrades.
Ha! If those weaklings could even be considered comrades!
As a defeated warrior, I had no complaints. At least while Yamamoto Genryusai still lived, I would honor the agreement.
Perhaps, somewhere in Rukongai, I might find someone who could bring me a sliver of joy…
Finally, an intriguing opponent appeared—a born beast!
Though I ultimately won, this beast left scars on my body. Regrettably, it seemed he still held back his full strength.
Even after a brutal, prolonged slaughter, this mindless beast failed to unleash his true potential.
Exhilarated, yet disappointed.
Still, it was the most exhilarating fight I'd had thus far.
Perhaps this beast could truly kill me in a head-on duel and grant me the bliss of death.
So… I decided to wait.
Until that day, I would no longer draw my sword, nurturing my bloodlust in anticipation of the moment.
A thousand years passed.
That beast finally found his way to the Seireitei and claimed the title of Kenpachi.
But… he seemed weaker than before. There would be no meaning in killing him now.
Huh?
This brat calls himself Senju Makoto?
He seems like a decent kid. To ensure the Fourth Division won't lack a captain in the future, I should train him properly.
Makoto… he's far more remarkable than I imagined. A kind and gentle heart, extraordinary healing abilities—though he occasionally harbors rebellious thoughts. He'll need some discipline…
What a laughable, naïve child. He even thinks he can protect me?
Do I look that weak? What an insult… and yet, a strange flicker of joy stirs within me. Something other than combat and slaughter briefly moves my heart.
But Makoto, how dare you entertain countless thoughts of defying me?
Perhaps I should find a reason to discipline this insolent disciple with my blade.
This slippery brat always avoids giving me any excuses, though.
Makoto, you've been hiding your true nature all along, haven't you? That isn't how an innocent boy would act.
That aversion to fighting—could that be a lie as well? Perhaps I should have Yoruichi Shihouin give him a proper lesson…
Ha, fighting for your teacher's sake?
Makoto, do you really think such a reason would make me happy? Do you think I'd actually feel joy because of that?
A birthday banquet…
"Forest and the Spiraea."
What is this peculiar feeling?
"Always by my side?"
What do you think do you understand?
Who do you think you're directing such sentiments toward?
You understand nothing, Makoto!
The Unohana you see before you has always been a lie. What you wish to protect never existed to begin with!
My name is Yachiru Unohana. I am slaughter, I am an incarnation of evil, I am the embodiment of hell itself.
No. I can't let Makoto see that side of me.
In that moment, clutching the Forest and the Spiraea as I returned to the courtyard, my thoughts swirled in unprecedented disarray.
Why?
I instinctively didn't want Makoto to know of my bloody past. The mere thought of that day's arrival made me falter.
Huh?
Suddenly, a change occured.
What is this? A Hollowfied Shinigami? An interesting form. I wonder how it'll feel to cut down?
Everyone… they've all died. Then surely, I'm allowed to draw my blade again…
Ah, what bliss. It's been too long!
Yes, this is who I truly am. The healing and medical arts? Just a means to prolong my joy, to extend this pleasure for a little while longer.
Slaughter.
Hollowfied captain-class Shinigami—slightly more enticing prey.
No, still too weak…
Is this the best they can offer?
Heal them, then cut them down again. Surely, their Hollowfied resilience will let them endure a bit longer.
Wait… is that Makoto?!
Didn't he leave with some flimsy excuse about going to see Soi Fon?
Why?
Why is he here? Why did he come back? Why does he have to… see me like this?!
No. He can't.
Or perhaps… this is better.
Makoto, witness my true self. Fear me, revere me, and then stay far away.
Makoto, the game we've played as master and disciple—it's time to end it.
Because if this goes on, I truly don't know when I'll lose control…
It ends here.
This moment… will be the last. Afterward, you should go away, and everything will be over, Makoto.
But in that moment, when Makoto should have been filled with fear and trepidation, he stepped forward and embraced me. A warmth unlike blood enveloped me, and I heard a gentle voice near my ear.
The bloodlust and killing intent that filled my mind froze. My eyes widened as I murmured in disbelief.
"W-What?"
"Unohana-sensei, no matter what you become, I will always stay by your side… like the Forest and the Spiraea."
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