Capítulo 25: Chapter 25: The Healer
Unohana Retsu observed the scene of carnage before her, her calm and placid expression betraying none of the fascination that burned within her.
Blood spattered the grass, and traces of spiritual energy lingered in the air—a twisted, volatile mix of Hollow and Shinigami power that crackled and faded into nothingness.
In its center stood Kageyama Seijirou, looking indifferent, as if slaying a Vasto Lorde was no worthy feat, his eyes calm as he sheathed his zanpakuto.
The sight stirred something deep within her. Seijirou's raw power and the ferocity with which he had engaged the Vasto Lorde were unmistakable.
Truthfully, she had arrived earlier, but opted to remain and observe the fight, curious as to how the genius acknowledged even by the Head Captain would fare against the Vasto Lorde.
She was not disappointed.
Few possessed the strength—or the audacity—to face down a creature of that magnitude, and even fewer could emerge victorious. But Kageyama had not only survived; he had utterly dominated.
Unohana felt the familiar itch beneath her skin, that relentless urge that had defined her in her younger years. She could feel the pulse of anticipation hammering in her veins, each beat demanding a test of her own strength against his.
The beast within her stirred, whispering its insistent demand: fight him.
But Unohana was no ordinary Shinigami. She had trained herself to wait, to let her bloodlust sleep, awakening it only when the moment demanded it.
For now, she would play her role as Captain Unohana, the calm and composed healer, and watch Seijirou carefully.
The rest of the Shinigami, younger and less battle-hardened, glanced nervously at the remnants of the battle and the eerie silence that followed.
They looked to Unohana for reassurance, and she responded with a gentle smile, though her mind was elsewhere.
She stepped toward Seijirou, her footsteps slow and measured, savoring each step as if she were approaching a work of art.
'Or a predator,' she thought, studying him.
He met her gaze with quiet respect, and yet she could see the traces of battle still clinging to him—the wild look in his eyes, the tension in his muscles.
A deep satisfaction filled her. Here was someone who understood the thrill of combat, someone who did not flinch in the face of death.
"Third Seat Kageyama," she said softly, her voice as gentle as the breeze, "it seems you handled this situation well."
"Thank you, Captain Unohana," he replied, his voice steady but edged with the strain of battle.
She watched him closely, the urge to challenge him swelling within her. She wondered if he knew who she truly was, if he had any inkling of the warrior that lay dormant behind her serene mask.
Likely not, but the way he had fought—the ruthless precision, the calm in the face of overwhelming odds—told her that he could sense the truth about her.
He would not be fooled by her gentle demeanor or the mask she wore for her Division.
"Kageyama," she said, her tone dropping to a whisper that only he could hear, "tell me, do you seek power?"
Seijirou's eyes sharpened, the question cutting through his cold expression like a blade. His answer came without hesitation, his voice calm but resolute. "I do, Captain."
Her smile deepened, though it held no warmth. "Good. Power demands sacrifice, and you seem willing to give it."
She paused, letting her words sink in. "Few understand what it truly means to wield strength, but perhaps you will."
She left him with that cryptic remark, watching as a flicker of intrigue passed across his face. 'Yes,' she thought. 'You're beginning to understand.'
---
Unohana made her way back to the barracks that evening, her thoughts still fixed on Seijirou. She found herself replaying the battle in her mind, imagining each blow, each moment of his fight against the Vasto Lorde.
She could picture herself standing in the Hollow's place, their blades clashing, testing each other's limits. The anticipation of such a fight sent a shiver down her spine, the longing for battle pulsing through her like a living thing.
As she entered her quarters, she could not shake the feeling. The other captains knew her only as the healer, the kind, quiet woman who patched up their wounds and tended to their injuries.
They had no knowledge of her past, of the blood-soaked history that had once defined her.
Only a few had even the slightest inkling of the beast she held within herself—the Kenpachi she had once been, Yachiru Unohana, the woman who had slaughtered without hesitation, without mercy.
She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relive those memories for just a moment. The clash of steel, the rush of adrenaline, the thrill of facing an opponent who could truly challenge her.
Those were the days when she had been alive, when each fight had pushed her to her limits and beyond.
And now… now she had found a new source of that thrill.
He's different, she thought, recalling the intensity in Seijirou's eyes, the strength he wielded with such control. He was no mere Third Seat, no ordinary soldier.
There was something about him, a hunger, a drive that mirrored her own. He reminded her of herself, in a way—a younger version, one untempered by years of restraint and discipline.
The thought was tantalizing, dangerous, and yet she could not turn away from it.
Unohana took a deep breath, pushing down the surge of excitement that rose within her. She was the captain of the Fourth Division, a healer above all else, and she could not afford to give in to such urges.
But as the days passed, she found herself watching Seijirou with growing fascination, studying his movements, analyzing his techniques.
It became a silent obsession, one she kept hidden behind her calm exterior. Every time she saw him, she felt the urge to test him, to push him to his limits and see what lay beneath that composed exterior.
She wanted to know if he would break, if he would falter under the weight of her power.
And yet, she knew that the time was not yet right. Seijirou was still growing, still learning.
His strength was formidable, but it was unrefined, untested against a true opponent. She would wait, watch, and when the moment was right, she would make her move.
The thought sent a thrill through her, a sense of anticipation that she had not felt in years.
She could feel her blood stirring, the old instincts awakening. One day, she thought, we will face each other. And when that day comes, I will know if you are truly worthy.
But for now, she would bide her time, content to watch him from the shadows. The anticipation was as sweet as the thrill of battle itself, a promise of things to come.
As the weeks passed, Unohana continued to observe Seijirou, subtly guiding him, offering hints and advice that would push him to grow stronger.
She watched as he honed his skills, each day bringing him closer to the level she desired. And with each passing moment, the urge to test him grew stronger, the beast within her straining against its bonds.
She could feel the tension building, like the calm before a storm. It was only a matter of time before they would face each other, before the mask of Captain Unohana would fall, and the true Yachiru would emerge.
She looked forward to that day with a hunger that bordered on madness, a longing that only he could satisfy.
Until then, she would wait, watching him with a predator's patience, her gaze never wavering as she prepared for the moment they would finally clash.
For she knew, deep down, that Seijirou was one of the few people who could give her the fight she craved, the battle that would bring her back to life.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder