The alternating cycle between the two hell-hot springs washed over Kisaragi Akira in waves of bliss. With every rise and fall of the steaming water, his injuries healed at a speed that defied common sense.
The White-Bone Hell spring squeezed out ailments, forcing out tainted blood and stagnant spiritual pressure.
The Blood-Pool Hell spring replenished that loss, refilling the body with fresh blood and recharged spirit power, restoring the wounded to an even better state than before.
And all of this—for him—took only two hours.
When Akira finally surfaced from the water, he could feel it: his spiritual pressure had climbed, subtle but unmistakable.
He had risen from LV 70 to LV 75, stepping into Sixth-Class Reiryoku Authority.
That alone put him barely within the upper echelon of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads.
And in terms of practical combat power…
Akira judged himself to be at the level of an Eighth Seat—maybe even Ninth Seat officer already.
Besides the fact that he still couldn't release his Zanpakutō, he wasn't far off from a standard Captain.
Almost everything else was already there.
The only pity was that whether imitation or original, the hell-spring's spirit-pressure boost worked only once. If he wanted another jump in power, he would have to go to the true hell-spring.
…But its healing effect never diminished, no matter how many times he entered.
After a thorough inspection, Captain Unohana Retsu confirmed that Akira's arm had healed completely.
Once they left the springs, he could be discharged from the medical ward.
To test his recovery more accurately—
As soon as the three of them—Akira, Unohana, and Yoruichi—returned to Squad Four, they were dragged straight into the training hall.
And in that moment, Yoruichi once again remembered—painfully clearly—just how terrifying Unohana truly was.
Inside the Dojo
Heavy, sticky killing intent surged like a suffocating tide. Dark spiritual vapor coiled through the room, so thick it distorted the air. The dojo no longer felt like a training space—it was a battlefield built on mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.
The instant Akira let his mind empty and allowed instinct to take over—
A bamboo sword flashed.
A razor-sharp strike cut straight toward him. The air split like torn cloth, shrieking under the pressure.
It wasn't training.
It wasn't sparring.
It was murder, pure and unfiltered. A release of all the heat and restlessness the hot springs had stirred in them.
Even the air currents seemed to dodge aside, unwilling to be sliced by the two clashing figures.
From Yoruichi's perspective, every exchange was fatal.
They were fighting to kill.
If the bamboo swords in their hands were steel, she would genuinely believe she was witnessing a life-and-death duel.
Despite Akira's swordsmanship surpassing 99% of Soul Reapers, he still fell behind against the woman who had once taught him the blade.
The pride he'd felt after defeating Kanimisai Kurai earlier—
Gone.
Completely obliterated.
Between him and a true monster like Unohana, there remained a gulf far wider than he had imagined.
When Unohana's sword rhythm fully bloomed, her earlier gentleness evaporated—replaced with a bone-chilling murderous aura.
Death approached.
It hung above him like a crescent moon suspended from the night sky, gazing coldly down and spreading its frigid glow across everything in its reach.
Bamboo clashed. Explosions echoed like crashing thunder.
The two figures crossed paths, pressing in close, the brilliance of their swordsmanship surging like a tidal wave—beautiful, fierce, consuming—illuminated by moonlight pouring over their identical, feral grins.
Their sword duel continued all night long.
Yoruichi watched them the entire time.
When it finally ended, Unohana walked away with a serene, satisfied smile to resume her duties—
While Akira's legs trembled so badly that Yoruichi had to support him all the way back to the cavern.
Once there, she promptly stripped him clean, planted a foot on his back, and kicked him straight into the hot spring.
A splash.
A drenched head popped up from the steaming water, breathing out a long, traumatized sigh.
"…Too scary…"
The heat of the spring soaked into him.
Akira shivered.
Yoruichi crouched at the edge, cheek resting on one hand, staring into the hazy steam with a storm of emotions tangled in her mind.
Like a ball of yarn a cat had mauled.
From the first moment she'd met him, she knew Akira had talent.
Someone who could learn the Shihōin clan's secret Hakuda techniques in the middle of a fight—that wasn't talent anymore.
That was a monster.
Since then, she'd wanted to bring him into the family.
To make him the future son-in-law of the noble Shihōin.
And she had been right—but the execution was difficult.
Every time she brought it up, Akira casually dodged with "We'll talk about it later."
What on earth was going on in that guy's head?
And now…
His rate of growth was absurd.
He had barely graduated from the Spiritual Arts Academy.
He'd slain Kanimisai Kurai in direct combat.
Then demonstrated swordsmanship that bordered on incredible.
A true all-rounder.
Yoruichi's eyes dimmed with a complicated emotion.
Thanks to Akira, she had obtained her clan's Zanpakutō, taken the position of clan head, and become Captain of Squad Two.
But the difference between her and Unohana—
A difference she couldn't even bring herself to look at directly.
Yesterday's sword duel made it painfully clear:
If she took Akira's place, she would last only a few moves before being chopped into seventeen pieces.
The gap was too enormous.
At this rate, Akira would soon leave her behind—his silhouette disappearing far ahead.
Should she give up?
The thought flickered—
And she immediately shook her head violently.
Impossible. Absolutely impossible!
She was already 99% through her "Akira conquest route."
There was only one final push left.
How could she possibly give up?!
If she couldn't keep up, she'd simply work ten times—no, a hundred times—harder.
She would close the gap.
She would surpass him.
Training would begin now.
After soaking again, Akira finally shook off his exhaustion and revived.
With newfound confidence, he boldly declared he could fight Unohana for another three hundred rounds.
And then—
"Akira," Yoruichi called from the shore.
"You free tonight?"
"…?"
Akira blinked.
The Captain's Meeting — That Night
She chose nighttime because the noble conflict had finally cooled, and a new Captain's Conference was being convened.
As before, both Captains and Vice-Captains were required to attend, given the magnitude of recent events.
The only difference was—
There were fewer people this time.
Captain Ukitake Jūshirō predictably sent a sick-leave notice, replaced by Kotori Sentarō.
And then there was Squad Seven's situation.
Enokami Dan'ō, the former Seventh Captain, had failed disastrously in his investments and been imprisoned in the Penitence Palace.
Now the Kanimisai family was imploding; they had no strength left to protect anyone.
The Central 46 ruled to strip Enokami of his Captaincy, seal his spiritual pressure, and imprison him in the third underground level of the Central Great Prison—Rengoku Hell—for 3,000 years.
Many Captains reacted with quiet sorrow.
The most depressed was Kyōraku Shunsui, who had now lost his only reliable source of free alcohol.
His best friend, Ukitake, was wealthy too—but with that frail body, a few bottles of sake would send him straight to the emergency ward.
Whether Yamamoto would get angry was uncertain—
But Captain Unohana definitely would.
She hated patients who ignored medical advice.
Replacing Enokami at the meeting was a burly, eye-patched middle-aged man, his muscular frame barely contained by his shihakushō. A small braid hung behind his head, and his presence alone radiated a fierce, sharp pressure.
He bore a slight resemblance to Kotori Sentarō.
This was Kotori Jin'uemon, Vice-Captain of Squad Seven.
Not skilled in Kidō, but a master swordsman—recognized even by the First Generation Kenpachi herself.
Akira remembered his name because Unohana had once mentioned him during their sparring sessions.
Noticing Akira's gaze, Jin'uemon turned his head.
A piercing aura locked onto Akira—
Then vanished when he realized who he was looking at.
Akira scratched his head.
No idea what that was about.
He resumed scanning the room.
Last time, he'd spent the whole meeting exchanging silent looks with Yoruichi and ignored the rest of the Captains.
Now, Yoruichi sat with eyes closed in thought.
No one to exchange looks with.
So he looked around.
The Captain of Squad Three—
Ordinary face, ordinary build.
A man who wouldn't make a splash even if he fell into a river.
Takeda Tomofumi.
Akira barely remembered the name after Five-Assist repeated it multiple times.
Captains of Squad Nine and Ten were new faces too.
But their Vice-Captain stood out.
A young man with short silver hair, muscular build, and a powerful aura.
Handsome, too.
Swap him into almost any other world and he'd be the main character.
Unfortunately, this was the Soul Society.
Here, he was Muguruma Kensei, destined to leave a famous mark in history.
Noticing Akira's look, Kensei met his eyes without hesitation.
Far fiercer than Jin'uemon.
Akira grinned.
Youthful aggression—now that was the spirit of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads.
If he remembered correctly, Kensei was skilled in Hakuda.
Perfect. They could swap techniques someday. Yamamoto always said one should learn from many schools.
Satisfied, Akira mentally wrote down Kensei's name:
A good bro. When old man Yamamoto beats me up, I'll go hide behind him.
When everyone had arrived, Yamamoto cleared his throat.
A wave of authority filled the room.
Silence fell instantly.
"You all know the events that have transpired recently," he began. "As for the details, the individual involved will explain."
Akira's eyes lit up.
Finally—
His time to shine.
Yamamoto felt a terrible premonition.
Before the old man could stop him, Akira launched into an enthusiastic retelling.
In his version—
Kanimisai Kurai was a scheming, malevolent super-villain.
And Akira was the righteous hero who saved the Soul Society from destruction.
With one magnificent, well-timed "Focused Impact Fist," he blasted Kurai to pieces.
The story rose and fell dramatically.
One twist after another.
Exaggerated, yes—but the important details remained intact.
Captain Yotsuyu Kiryu of Squad Twelve wore a complicated expression.
She never imagined the not-very-bright-looking boy who stood before her had hidden a backdoor in such advanced artificial-soul technology.
That he had used it to turn the battle around.
Perhaps she should have recruited him when she had the chance.
Other Captains were focused on a different point:
His battle power.
He had dominated the battlefield at the Shihōin estate—
Then rushed to Squad One's barracks and continued fighting at full power.
Forget the ridiculous stamina—
The fact that he fought Kanimisai head-on was shocking enough.
The spiritual pressure unleashed that day had been on par with a Captain.
Did that mean—
The boy rambling excitedly in the center of the room—
Was already at Captain level?
The thought made several Captains feel… complicated.
When Akira finally finished, Yamamoto tapped his staff sharply.
"Kanimisai's rebellion is confirmed.
By Central 46, all participants are stripped of noble status and will be imprisoned in Kuroshō Hell for 10,000 years."
"The Seventh Division Captaincy, now vacant, will be filled by Vice-Captain Kotori Jin'uemon."
His seniority made the appointment easy. No test needed.
The Central 46 didn't care who held the position. As long as they remained powerful.
After handling a few administrative matters, Yamamoto's expression hardened.
"Recently, soul disappearances in the Rukongai have reappeared. Worse than before. Multiple investigating Soul Reapers have vanished."
He glanced sharply at Akira.
He had once assigned Akira a similar mission. After destroying a rebel stronghold, the case had seemed closed.
But now, when the Seireitei was already strained by the Kanimisai incident—
The disappearances returned.
A provocation.
A direct challenge to the honor of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads.
Yamamoto no longer intended to tolerate it.
"Captain Takeda. This matter falls to you.
Find the culprit—as quickly as possible."