Ethan woke before dawn.
Not because he wanted to.
But because the world inside him was loud.
A soft glow pulsed in the back of his mind—slow, rhythmic, like moonlight dripping through cracks.
Yoru-no-Hikari.
His first spirit.
The one he'd somehow gone days without speaking to because Akahana's awakening had been so overwhelming.
He sat up in the futon, exhaling. The training hall was quiet. Cold air brushed his skin.
Then came her voice—gentle, warm, the opposite of Akahana's fire:
"You are overexerting yourself."
Ethan froze.
"…Yoru?"
"You awakened me long before you met Akahana. I am always watching."
A calm glow washed through his chest, soothing the lingering burn left by Akahana's drain.
His breathing stabilized instantly.
Not panel-driven.
Not Unohana-forced.
Her.
The first spirit.
"Why now?" he whispered.
A pause—a soft pulse.
"Because you are finally listening."
He felt a twinge of guilt. Akahana made everything loud. Intense. Distracting. But Yoru was always there. Always present. He had ignored her because she never demanded anything.
He rose to his feet.
Today… he would use her.
---
Unohana Was Waiting
"Good morning, Ethan."
She stood at the center of the training hall, hair neatly tied, blade in hand.
Her smile was gentle.
Her pressure was not.
"You look steadier today," she said.
Ethan swallowed. "My first spirit woke up."
Unohana's eyes gleamed with interest—the kind she reserved for anatomy samples or rare medical cases.
"Ah… the quiet one."
"You knew?" Ethan asked.
"Of course." She stepped forward, blade tapping lightly against the floor. "Your soul felt… incomplete. Missing its foundation. Now it no longer does."
A familiar chill ran down Ethan's spine.
Unohana never meant these things as threats.
But somehow they always sounded like them.
She lifted her sword slightly.
"Then today, we will see what your foundation can do."
He nodded, gripping his Zanpakutō.
Akahana pulsed with fiery impatience.
Yoru-no-Hikari pulsed back—calm, soothing.
For the first time since his Shikai, Ethan felt them both.
Balanced.
Watching.
Waiting.
---
The First Activation
Ethan inhaled.
Closed his eyes.
And called her name.
"…Yoru."
Silver light bled from his blade—not violently like Akahana's flames, but gently, expanding outward like moonlight on still water.
Unohana's expression shifted minutely.
"A beautiful reiryoku tone," she murmured. "Soft. Deceptive."
The blade didn't change form.
It brightened—a thin crescent of silver gliding along the edge.
And then—everything sharpened.
Unohana's breathing.
The faint tremor in the ground.
The humming of his own blood.
The flicker of Akahana's annoyance.
His senses… expanded.
Not like sight.
Not like hearing.
Something else.
"Trajectory prediction," Yoru whispered.
"Follow the light."
He saw it—Unohana's first step before she took it.
The subtle shift of her foot, the turn of her wrist.
A faint outline of where her blade would be a heartbeat later.
Ethan gasped.
It was like she existed in slow motion—but not truly.
He simply knew.
Unohana vanished.
He moved before she appeared.
Her blade sliced the space his head had been a split second earlier.
"Oh?" Unohana smiled as she slid past him. "Very good."
Ethan landed in a crouch, breath sharp—but controlled.
He could do this.
He could—
A spike of heat shot through his mind.
Akahana's voice snarled:
"You're using her? Instead of me?"
The silver glow flickered.
Ethan stumbled.
Unohana's blade touched his neck lightly.
"Conflict," she said, sounding almost delighted. "Excellent. Let it surface."
Ethan grit his teeth.
"Not now—Akahana—stop—"
"You're MINE first!"
Akahana's voice erupted into fire inside his chest.
"He is not a possession."
Yoru answered, soft but firm.
Akahana flared.
Yoru brightened.
The two energies crashed inside him like colliding waves.
Ethan screamed.
He hit the floor hard, blade skidding away.
Unohana didn't help him.
Of course she didn't.
She simply stepped back, observing the internal collapse of his soul as if it were the most fascinating medical case she'd ever seen.
---
The Dual-Spirit Conflict
Akahana's flames roared inside him.
Yoru's calm light pushed back, not aggressively—but insistently.
They weren't fighting each other.
They were fighting for him.
Too much. Too fast.
His reiryoku twisted violently, spiraling like torn threads.
> [WARNING: MULTI-SPIRIT RESONANCE INSTABILITY]
[User Soul Integrity: 64% and dropping]
[Immediate stabilization recommended]
"NO—stop—both of you—!" Ethan gasped.
But their voices drowned him.
Akahana: "He needs power—MY power—let me take over!"
Yoru: "He is not ready. You will burn him again."
Akahana: "Better to burn than to freeze!"
Yoru: "Not if he dies."
The two forces crashed again.
Ethan convulsed.
Blood dripped from his nose.
Unohana finally spoke:
"Ethan."
Her voice cut through the storm.
"If you cannot control your spirits, you do not deserve them."
Her blade's flat edge struck the floor beside him—cracking the wooden boards.
"Stand."
He couldn't.
She didn't care.
"Stand, Ethan."
Her voice brooked no refusal.
Somewhere deep inside—
Yoru-no-Hikari glowed warmly.
Akahana snarled but quieted slightly, instinctively responding to Ethan's desperation.
Yoru spoke:
"Let me guide you. Just this once."
Ethan inhaled.
Silver warmth wrapped around the fire inside him.
Not extinguishing Akahana.
Containing her.
For the first time ever—
the two spirits' energies did not clash.
They aligned.
Not perfectly.
Not peacefully.
But enough.
Ethan pushed himself upright, trembling but stable.
Unohana's expression softened.
"There you are."
Once again, she raised her blade.
---
The Spar — Moonlight and Blood-Heat
"Show me your balance," Unohana said.
Ethan lifted his sword.
Akahana's heat surged in his muscles.
Yoru's clarity sharpened his senses.
Two spirits.
One body.
One blade.
Unohana vanished.
Ethan didn't think—
he moved.
Silver trajectory prediction flared—
red power burst in his legs—
he dodged under Unohana's slash, rolled, and countered with a heated strike.
Moonlight guiding.
Fire empowering.
His blade almost grazed Unohana's cheek.
The Captain smiled.
"Lovely."
And then she attacked for real.
Blade arcs multiplied—
pressure spiked—
the ground cracked—
Ethan barely kept up, slipping through predicted lines, dodging on instinct, empowered by burning strength.
Akahana laughed inside him.
Yoru guided him calmly.
He was moving faster than ever before.
"This—this is insane—!" he grunted.
Unohana's smile widened.
"It is only the start."
Her spiritual pressure erupted—and Ethan's body froze in place.
His predictions shattered.
His strength buckled.
He hit the ground again, coughing blood.
Unohana lowered her sword.
"Training for today is over."
---
Aftermath — Yoru and Akahana
Ethan lay on the floor, chest heaving.
A soft silver glow wrapped around him.
Yoru's voice murmured:
"You did well."
Akahana scoffed.
"He stumbled."
"He lived." Yoru countered gently.
Akahana paused.
"…Fine. He lived."
Ethan chuckled weakly.
Even their bickering felt… good.
Yoru hummed softly, almost like a lullaby.
Akahana grumbled but did not pull away.
For the first time—
they both stayed.
Not fighting.
Not clashing.
Just… present.
Two spirits.
One wielder.
Unohana watched him from a distance, eyes sharp with interest.
"He will be exceptional," she whispered to herself.
"Or he will break spectacularly."