The towering structure outside the Fourth Division barracks.
From afar, Aizen stood gazing towards the courtyard where Unohana and Makoto seemed to embrace. His typically calm and composed eyes wavered ever so slightly, and the oppressive aura surrounding him intensified noticeably.
Sensing the change in Aizen's demeanor, Tōsen's expression tightened as he asked,
"Lord Aizen, have you encountered something unexpected?"
Adjusting his glasses, Aizen replied with his usual composure,
"No, everything remains under control. It's just that Makoto-kun is even more remarkable than I anticipated. I didn't expect him to face Unohana in such a terrifying state with such poise."
Terrifying.
Yes, even Aizen had to admit this truth.
Unohana, with her blade drawn, was utterly terrifying and overwhelmingly powerful.
While Aizen prided himself on mastering the pinnacle of shinigami combat skills—Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō—he had to concede that Unohana, who had mastered all swordsmanship techniques and seemed born for the art of killing, was an even more formidable presence.
Even when faced with the relentless assault of four Hollowfied captain-level shinigami, Unohana Retsu, without releasing her Zanpakutō, had rendered them utterly helpless.
In a direct clash of swordsmanship, even Aizen admitted he was no match for her.
Now, with Unohana fully unleashing the murderous intent she had suppressed for a millennium, even Aizen felt an inexplicable pressure. And yet, Makoto… calmly embraced her without a hint of fear.
In some ways, it was akin to a lamb playing affectionately with a wolf king.
"Tsk…"
Aizen cast one last deep glance towards the direction of Unohana and Makoto before firmly gripping his Kyōka Suigetsu and turning away from the Fourth Division barracks.
"Let's go, Tōsen."
"Hmm? Lord Aizen, are we not staying to watch? Captain Zaraki should be arriving soon—it's the long-awaited duel of the Kenpachi." Tōsen asked, puzzled.
"There's no need. Makoto-kun won't allow that to happen. Besides, the fact that Captain Unohana hasn't torn Makoto apart despite being in such close proximity proves she retains a significant amount of control."
Aizen's tone carried an inexplicable undertone as he disappeared into the shadows, heading towards his laboratory with Kyōka Suigetsu still in hand.
"Continuing to watch would only waste time without yielding the results I anticipate..."
Tōsen, unable to see what was happening in the courtyard, couldn't fully grasp Aizen's reasoning. Blind as he was, he could only sense the bloodthirsty and terrifying spiritual pressure emanating from Unohana—a presence that instinctively evoked fear.
But as someone utterly devoted to Aizen, Tōsen chose not to dwell on it further, quietly following behind him.
---
Contrary to Aizen's assumptions, Makoto was far from calm. Inside, he was panicking.
However, one thing was clear to him:
In Unohana's current state, retreating could mean death.
Hesitation, fear, or cowardice would likely only earn him a swift slash.
So, Makoto chose to step forward—to face death head-on and seek survival beyond it. Closing his eyes, he embraced Unohana with bold resolve.
Perhaps, if I am a somewhat lucky person, this might still work out. Even if I do get cut down, I'll revive eventually. No regrets this round.
More importantly, despite the terror Unohana unleashed, Makoto believed she wouldn't actually kill him.
Because someone consumed by pure killing intent wouldn't waste so many words beforehand…
Perhaps due to her overwhelming aura and her imposing presence—enhanced by her flowing captain's haori—it was easy to perceive Unohana as a towering figure.
In reality, Unohana stood only 159 cm tall, hardly the image of someone physically imposing.
Makoto, however, stood at a solid 181 cm, comparable to Aizen himself.
So, when he embraced her, Unohana was entirely enveloped in his arms, her head pressed softly against his chest.
Yet, in the next instant, her Zanpakutō pierced through his back, emerging from his chest in front of her.
"Schlick…"
Pain shot through Makoto's body, causing his muscles to instinctively tense.
Unohana's eyes lowered as she extended her tongue, licking the blood from the blade that had just skewered him. Her voice dripped with killing intent as she said,
"Makoto, committing such an offense against your teacher—have you prepared for the consequences?"
At this moment, Makoto smiled—genuinely, warmly—at her.
"What are you smiling about?" Unohana raised her head and demanded.
Moments ago, Makoto had been uncertain, but her attack now confirmed his suspicions.
As the Captain of the Fourth Division, Unohana's mastery of healing and anatomy was unparalleled.
The strike that seemed fatal was, in fact, meticulously calculated to avoid all his vital organs.
Even if she stabbed him nineteen more times, it would barely count as a serious injury—not even worth bandaging.
This proved that despite her fearsome state, Unohana's heart was conflicted, and she bore no true intent to kill him.
Otherwise, how could she forget that he, her most diligent disciple for nearly a year, was equally knowledgeable about spiritual anatomy?
This injury—was it a form of kindness?
As he looked down at Unohana, her lips still stained with his blood, she resembled a delicate flower petal marked with his essence. His heart pounded fiercely, tempted to lean in for a daring move.
But then—
"Bankai. Minazuki."
Unohana's voice, laden with bloodlust, echoed once more.
In an instant, the Zanpakutō impaling Makoto's chest and the surrounding space erupted with torrents of blood, engulfing them completely.
This was a world of blood.
As her blade withdrew from his chest, Makoto braced himself for what was to come.
=========================
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