"Who won…?"
The explosion at the end had nearly blown the petite Sōrin—young Soi Fon—right off the bleachers. Clinging stubbornly to the stands as the dust finally settled, only one question echoed in her heart.
Logically, she should want her captain, Yoruichi Shihōin, to emerge victorious from this sparring match.
Emotionally… she wanted it to be Lord Shuuichi standing at the end.
The scene answered her quickly.
Yoruichi stood tall at the center of the training ground—while Higashi Shuuichi hung limply in her grip, like a scolded cub, unconscious and battered.
"Did Lord Shuuichi… lose?"
Sōrin's heart sank, her large eyes shimmering with unshed tears. It was the expected result, so why did it feel so painful?
Especially seeing him unconscious like that—her chest ached.
"Don't worry, Sōrin. Your Lord Shuuichi didn't lose. On the contrary… if anything, I'm the one who lost this match."
Yoruichi strolled over with the unconscious Shuuichi slung over her shoulder, gently consoling the girl.
She couldn't help but recall the final moment of their fight. If she hadn't released her full reiatsu at the very last instant, she might've been seriously injured by that reckless, all-or-nothing move of Shuuichi's.
More importantly—she'd clearly felt it.
In that final attack, that Hadō #91: Senjū Kōten Taihō, his spiritual pressure had surged to Captain-class. Even if only for a fleeting second.
Whether it was a temporary spike or an actual breakthrough from their battle, Yoruichi couldn't say.
But one thing was certain: Higashi Shuuichi was close. Very close to crossing that threshold.
"Guess I've got a real eye for talent, huh? Just picked a random guy, and it turns out he's a Captain in the making, hahahahaha!"
Yoruichi burst out laughing.
She thought back to a certain someone who'd doubted Shuuichi's potential. "Not cut out for it," they'd said. She'd definitely be rubbing this in later.
Right then, Sōrin, who had been inspecting Shuuichi's injuries with growing worry, suddenly looked up at Yoruichi.
"Lady Yoruichi… just now you said… 'Captain material'? Were you talking about Lord Shuuichi?"
"That's right. Your Lord Shuuichi. I believe he'll be a full-fledged Captain before long."
Yoruichi pulled on a spare captain's haori, covering her still-exposed, curvaceous figure as she smiled.
Though the praise wasn't meant for her, Sōrin still beamed like she'd swallowed sunlight.
Lord Shuuichi is the greatest Shinigami!
I'll follow in his footsteps—and become a Captain myself!
She clutched her Zanpakutō tighter.
Then, Yoruichi assigned her a task.
"Eh?! Lady Yoruichi, you want me to take care of Lord Shuuichi while he recovers?! I-I can't, I'm not—I'm not qualified!"
Her cheeks lit up like fireworks, and her tiny head shook furiously.
"Then what do you expect me to do?" Yoruichi smirked. "I only managed to borrow Shuuichi from Unohana for three days. I was planning to spend those days testing him little by little, but instead the guy goes full throttle on day one and knocks himself out. What am I supposed to return—some unconscious wreck of a man?"
Yoruichi chuckled, clearly in excellent spirits. Shuuichi's ferocity satisfied her deeply—only someone like that might be able to learn that technique of hers, the one hidden away at the very bottom of her arsenal.
Still, this was just his first test.
He'd proven his combat fundamentals were strong enough to qualify—but whether she would actually teach him her secret technique depended on many other factors. Thankfully, someone else would be evaluating those.
"But I don't know Kaidō!" Sōrin bit her lip, glancing at Shuuichi with worry. "He's so badly hurt… how can I treat him?"
"You don't have to," Yoruichi replied smoothly. "Just look after him. I've already arranged for someone else to handle the healing."
And she had someone very specific in mind—someone who could both treat him and assess him.
Sōrin looked down at Shuuichi again… and nodded fiercely, as if making a solemn vow.
"I understand, Lady Yoruichi! I'll take good care of Lord Shuuichi!"
Yoruichi nodded, satisfied. Leaving a few instructions with the others in the detention force, she departed.
When Higashi Shuuichi opened his eyes again, an entire day had passed.
He blinked.
His body felt… fine?
Too fine.
Didn't he almost blow himself up with Yoruichi in that final move? He was sure he'd been on death's door.
So why did his body feel like it'd been through a massage and a hot bath?
"Lord Shuuichi! You're awake!"
The door slid open and in ran Sōrin, hands wrapped in white bandages, face lit with joy.
"…Sōrin? Wait—aren't I in the Fourth Division?"
He was genuinely surprised to see her.
"Nope! You're in Second Division, Lord Shuuichi!"
She hurried to his bedside to help him up.
But he waved her off.
Not that he didn't want to experience the luxurious life of a nobleman being pampered—but considering her tiny height barely reached his waist, she'd probably need his help just to hold him steady.
"You're the one taking care of me? And what's with the bandages on your hands?"
He stepped down from the bed, still a little dazed.
Sōrin blushed under his gaze.
"Yes… Lady Yoruichi assigned me to look after you. But I didn't heal you! That was done by our Third Seat—Urahara Kisuke-sama."
"Urahara Kisuke…?" That name sent a ripple through Higashi's mind.
"And the bandages? I wrapped them because I've been training my hakuda! I didn't want to hurt my hands too badly…"
She shyly unwrapped the cloth to show him her slightly calloused but determined little palms.
"Is that so? That's amazing, Sōrin."Shuuichi smiled, gently placing a hand on her head and ruffling her hair. "I'm sure you'll grow up to be an incredible Shinigami."
He smiled—
—but inside, his mind was already racing.
If Urahara Kisuke treated him… then that means he's already been near the sword.
That Bakkōtō… Raika.
Did he touch it…?
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