Bleach: The Fifth Division Captain

"Ahaha, I didn't say anything! You must've misheard, Unohana-taichō!"

"Oh? Is that so?"

Unohana Retsu's voice was soft, but the subtle curve of her smile suggested otherwise.

"Well then, Kyōraku-taichō, shall we get back to the previous topic?"

"Of course! Please, take a seat! Right here—make yourself comfortable! Waiter, bring two fresh pots of tea!"

His attitude shifted dramatically.

It was clear that Kyōraku feared Unohana more than Yamamoto.

Seiya watched with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

Before he knew it, Unohana had settled herself gracefully next to him.

With practiced ease, she smoothed her robes and folded her hands neatly in her lap. Her every movement carried an air of refined elegance.

Turning to face him, she offered a gentle smile.

"Arima-kun, it's been quite some time."

She remembers my name?

Seiya blinked in surprise before quickly regaining his composure.

"Ah, yes. It's been a while, Unohana-taichō."

"My apologies for not seeing you off properly the last time. I was occupied with matters in the barracks."

She dipped her head in a brief, polite bow.

Seiya felt a chill run down his spine.

Having a thousand-year-old woman bowing to him felt deeply unsettling.

Still reeling from the formality, Seiya decided to ask a question that had been bugging him.

"Unohana-taichō, why would you remember someone like me?"

She tilted her head slightly, her expression softening further.

"My, what an odd question."

Her calm, unwavering tone had a way of making everything sound both gentle and ominous.

"Why wouldn't someone like me take notice of someone like you? It's only natural to observe talent."

She leaned in ever so slightly, her gaze never leaving Seiya's.

"After all, Arima-kun… your relationship with that young girl, Kotetsu Isane, seems quite close, doesn't it?"

Seiya felt his heartbeat quicken.

Unohana continued, her tone warm, but her words oddly unsettling.

"Ah, youth… How wonderful it is. Watching young souls flourish always brings a sense of joy. It reminds me of the beauty of life."

Her words were kind on the surface, but Seiya couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more beneath them.

Then, Unohana added softly:

"So next time, Arima-kun, please look after her a little more carefully."

"Isane has been… distracted lately. Her work has suffered because of it."

Her smile widened slightly.

"She seems like someone who's lost in a dream, as if something has stolen her thoughts away."

Turning her head slightly, Unohana's gaze sharpened, locking onto Seiya's.

"That change happened after she met you."

Her tone was light, conversational. But her words cut deep.

"So, Arima-kun… do you have any insight into this?"

Insight?

Yes, Seiya had plenty.

But there was no way in hell he was about to say any of it out loud.

The tension in the room grew thick, suffocating, until Yamamoto let out a faint cough.

With that simple sound, the atmosphere eased slightly.

The old man's voice was steady and commanding.

"Now that everyone is here, we may begin."

His gaze shifted to Kyōraku.

"Kyōraku Shunsui, explain."

"Why did you bring Arima Seiya to this gathering?"

Seiya froze.

So they weren't expecting me?

Looking around, he realized that everyone's eyes were now on him.

It dawned on him that this wasn't some casual get-together.

This was a personal gathering—a private circle under Yamamoto's name.

Without Kyōraku's invitation, Seiya would never have been allowed in.

Which meant…

Kyōraku hadn't cleared this with Yamamoto beforehand?!

"Seriously, Kyōraku-taichō…" Seiya muttered to himself.

All eyes shifted to Kyōraku, who casually sipped his tea before standing.

He grinned cheekily and waved a hand.

"Alright, alright. I knew you'd ask, Yamaji. Don't worry—I've got my speech all prepared."

Clearing his throat dramatically, he pointed directly at Seiya.

"First, this kid has already mastered his Shikai, but he's keeping it a secret."

"Second, he's the one who injured Kiganjō."

"Third, at this rate, he's destined to become a future captain."

Kyōraku's grin widened.

"Wouldn't it be wise for him to get acquainted with us old folks ahead of time?"

"That's it. Speech over."

The room fell into silence.

Ukitake Jūshirō turned to Seiya with a look of surprise and intrigue.

Sasakibe Chōjirō gave Seiya a long, thoughtful stare, as if reevaluating the young man entirely.

Yamamoto, meanwhile, sat in silence, his expression unreadable.

But then…

His lips twitched ever so slightly, and he let out a quiet, "Hoh."

It wasn't disapproval.

It was curiosity.

After a moment, Yamamoto's gaze settled on Seiya.

"Tell me…"

His voice was calm yet commanding.

"When the incident with Shihōin Yoruichi occurred at the academy, were you the one who subdued Ōmaeda Marechiyo?"

Although phrased as a question, it was clear he already knew the answer.

"Yes… I was."

Yamamoto nodded slowly.

"I see."

Then, to Seiya's utter shock, the old man smiled.

It was a small, fleeting smile, but it was there.

"Few have grasped the essence of my Dual Bone Style."

His gaze bore into Seiya's, piercing yet approving.

"Your name is Arima Seiya, yes?"

"Well done."

Wait… What?

Did Yamamoto just praise me?

Seiya blinked, struggling to process the unexpected compliment.

The once tense atmosphere shifted into something more relaxed.

Ukitake chuckled as he raised his tea.

"Impressive. These new students are getting stronger and stronger. We veterans might need to start worrying about our seats."

Sasakibe added thoughtfully, "It's possible he simply prefers a quiet life. Those who grasp Genryūsai-sama's philosophy often understand the value of restraint."

Kyōraku laughed.

"Ah, you mean that 'simplicity and purity' nonsense? No thanks. Especially if it means waking up at dawn and scrubbing your body with a dry cloth…"

Sasakibe sighed.

"And that's why Genryūsai-sama calls you a slacker."

"Haha, guilty as charged!"

Seiya took a deep breath, finally relaxing a little.

But just as he reached for his tea, he felt a sudden prickling sensation.

It was sharp and unrelenting, like needles pressing into his skin.

Turning his head slowly, he saw Unohana watching him.

Her usual gentle expression was gone.

Her eyes were cold, calculating.

It was the gaze of someone studying a specimen, devoid of emotion or empathy.

"Uh… Unohana-taichō?"

Her eyes flickered briefly, as if she'd just remembered where she was.

"Oh my, forgive me," she said softly.

"I was simply lost in thought."

Her smile returned, serene as ever.

"Some old memories came to mind."

Seiya forced a nervous chuckle.

What… was that?

Before he could dwell on it further, the door slid open, and the attendants began setting up the evening's feast.

Kyōraku clapped his hands together.

"Alright, everyone! Our annual gathering is here! Let's enjoy ourselves!"

He glanced at Seiya with a grin.

"Except for you, Arima-kun. I heard you're allergic to alcohol, right?"

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Powerstones?

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