Bleach: Love and Bonds Make Me Stronger!

As Unohana gradually shed the shackles she'd imposed on herself, Makoto sensed the shift in the tide.

Her speed, strength, reflexes, and swordsmanship were unleashed without restraint.

It was only now that Makoto truly grasped the weight of "Yachiru."

Even with their Reiatsu forcibly equalized, he held no advantage against Unohana's dual blades.

Every bond trait had been unlocked, his body pushed to its absolute limit under these near-maximal enhancements.

Yet he still couldn't touch the depths of Unohana's power.

This indescribable pressure set his heart ablaze.

At the same time, his Zanjutsu experience surged.

[Zanjutsu +2]

[Zanjutsu +3]

[Zanjutsu +5]

Relentless strikes brought equally rich experience gains. Each blow he endured in this extreme state bolstered his Zanjutsu prowess.

But it still couldn't keep pace with the mounting pressure.

Until that final moment, when a visceral sense of mortal danger gripped his heart!

"Bankai! Minazuki!"

The instant her voice rang out, Makoto's world was engulfed in black and red, transformed into a vast blood pool.

Surging blood tides swallowed his vision, the overwhelming Reiatsu drowning his senses.

His normally razor-sharp perception was reduced to an endless crimson haze.

He couldn't discern the source of her blades.

Swish!

Blood blades sprayed, arcing like crescent moons, woven with the churning, turbulent blood from the ground, slashing toward Makoto.

Only when the sound hit did Makoto snap out of the previous second's terror, hurriedly raising his blade to block the onslaught.

But as he'd sensed, the blood-formed blades weren't just strikes, they carried the relentless tenacity of flowing liquid.

The moment he blocked, the blood blade scattered, each droplet leaping like needles, splattering against him with piercing shrieks. They corroded his clothes, pierced his skin, and dissolved into wisps of white smoke, searing like acid.

Faintly, his skin seemed to rot.

Makoto knew this wasn't "damage" but "healing."

The extreme vitality in each blood droplet forced excessive regeneration in his body, but this wasn't health.

Like the unchecked proliferation of HeLa cells, such extreme regeneration signaled bodily collapse. [1]

The tiny wounds on Makoto's body were the result of this "collapse."

Before he could react, Unohana, fully immersed in the ecstasy of battle, swung her long blade toward him with unrestrained force.

Her blade seemed to ooze blood, her Reiatsu boiling to its peak in the Bankai's release.

The whistling blade roared like a deafening beast.

Clang!

Their blades clashed, resounding like a great bell.

Behind Makoto and Unohana, it was as if they each bore different worlds.

Oharai Gougi's [Hidden Dojo] domain buckled under the Bankai's pressure, barely holding.

The only reason it could withstand Unohana's "world" was the rule forcibly leveling their Reiatsu.

Even so, a Bankai's power was five to ten times that of a Shikai.

Makoto knew his script couldn't endure Unohana's full assault for long.

Twenty seconds… thirty at most!

He had to force a resolution within thirty seconds.

Otherwise, the script would shatter under this terrifying Reiatsu surge.

A Shinigami's battle was a battle of Reiatsu.

Even so-called inviolable rules were subject to this principle.

If there was a problem, it only meant the Reiatsu wasn't strong enough.

If that's the case…

Makoto's gaze on Unohana shifted.

The bloodshot veins in his eyes deepened, his whites nearly turning red.

[Bond Trait: Final Dawn]

[Final Dawn: In the face of certain death, unleash unprecedented power, followed by a period of extreme weakness.]

Clearly, Unohana's Bankai and all-out assault met the conditions to trigger this trait.

Clang!

His blade tilted, twisting under his wrist.

Unohana, cloaked in a crimson backdrop, instantly sensed Makoto's change.

Her eyes flicked upward, an unconscious, exhilarated grin spreading.

It could go further!

This ecstasy could continue!

The moment she realized this, her dual blades morphed into flowing, ribbon-like extensions, crisscrossing toward Makoto.

But Makoto didn't meet them head-on.

The [Wall of Sighs] stabilized his will, keeping his mind razor-sharp and rational, allowing him to make precise judgments.

Two seconds.

He ducked, rolling to the side.

His feet splashed through the surging blood.

His ōdachi swept low, nearly grazing the ground, aiming for Unohana's legs.

Swish!

The long blade clashed with the blood blade and parted.

Makoto seized the chance to gain distance.

Under [Final Dawn], his brain, heart, muscles, bones, veins, and nerves thrummed with unprecedented excitement, like the fleeting warmth before freezing to death or the false satiety of starvation devouring the body.

It all fueled an irrepressible urge to fight!

[First Form - Severing Strike]

A dazzling blade arc sliced through the blood sea, its concentrated Reiatsu and will tearing a path through Unohana's omnipresent Reiatsu.

But to Unohana, such a strike was nothing.

Her short blade flicked forward, catching the arc's end, while her blood blade surged like a cascading waterfall, slashing toward Makoto's waist.

Makoto's tightly contracted pupils and [Flawless Circle] trait granted him superhuman reflexes.

The instant Unohana shifted her blade's path, his Shunpo veered.

The once-linear Severing Strike curved into a spiraling arc.

At the last second, his blade grazed past her short dagger, tearing a shallow gash in her sleeve.

Yet this faint sting seemed to jolt her nerves like a needle, igniting an even fiercer thrill and impulse.

Thus, the next strike fell with greater speed, heavier force!

The boiling blood curtain behind Unohana crept forward, surging relentlessly.

Their blades clashed, emitting a dull thud.

Makoto felt his blade weigh a thousand pounds, sinking uncontrollably.

Before he could redirect the force, Unohana's left-hand dagger swung down, smashing against her own blade's back.

Thud!

The blow pressed Makoto's blade onto his shoulder.

His knees buckled.

This tiny opening was seized instantly. Unohana's movements flowed without hesitation, her stepping kick sending Makoto flying, skimming across the blood pool like a spinning stone skipping over a calm river.

Five seconds.

Mid-spin, he drove his blade into the blood pool to slow his momentum.

The next moment, fueled by an unrelenting surge of potential, his frail, pained body flared with newfound vitality.

Makoto's feet landed on the dojo floor, now overtaken by the spreading blood pool. Power surged from the ground, his body like a compressed spring, launching toward Unohana in a near-suicidal charge, carving a wave-splitting arc through the blood.

He clashed with Unohana.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Between barely perceptible figures, a cascade of sparks erupted, accompanied by hammering metal clangs that threatened to pierce eardrums.

Faster! Heavier! Sharper!

The bastard Zanpakuto's irreverent voice was all but ignored, replaced by a stream of experience notifications.

[Zanjutsu +3]

[Zanjutsu +4]

[Zanjutsu +2]

In this seemingly endless flurry of strikes, both Makoto and Unohana saw only each other.

As if etching one another into the depths of their souls.

But the oppressive force of Reiatsu couldn't be overcome by sheer will, courage, or battle lust.

Makoto's fragile [Hidden Dojo] script was steadily consumed, eroded, and torn apart by the black curtain and blood sea.

Faintly, even the dojo's outlines seemed to waver and tremble.

Ten seconds!

At this point, even with multiple bond traits, Makoto recognized his limit.

Or rather, because his mind clung to an almost unbelievable resolve, he could clearly see that his stamina, Reiatsu, and Zanpakuto abilities were being squeezed to their breaking point by Unohana.

Muscles tore in swathes from extreme exertion;

His pupils, overloaded for too long, had irises cloaked in blood;

Constant high-speed Shunpo left his ankles riddled with micro-fractures;

His fingertips, gripping the hilt, strained so tightly the veins were visible;

His skin bore countless blackened blade marks, as if scorched, each movement a tearing agony…

Even his spiritual body trembled from the extreme Reiatsu output.

He had every reason to end this fight.

A training bout between master and disciple, why push it this far?

If it was just to sate Unohana's curiosity, why face her full strength with only Tier-3 Reiatsu?

If he kept fighting, would his body collapse first, or would his mind burn out under the strain?

What was the point of this battle?

Was it really just for a chance to do whatever he wanted with Unohana's voluptuous body?!

Makoto, are you really that base?!

'If I just take one step back… just one step back…'

Swish!

Makoto's eyes widened, his blade swinging forward before his mind could catch up.

In the deep crimson blood curtain, it carved a radiant arc.

A raging fire burned in his core.

"If I do that…"

"How could I ever get the chance to do whatever I want?!"

Makoto roared, blurting out the reason he'd fought this far.

To an outsider, it sounded utterly nonsensical.

But yes, he was that base.

Clang!

With strength wrung from his body's absolute limit, he forced the blood blade back.

Makoto raised his head.

In that moment, the entire dojo, along with the defeated challengers bound in ropes, vanished, swallowed by the black-and-red curtain and blood pool, dissolved in boundless dread.

Twenty seconds!!

Yet Makoto didn't stop.

His estimated window was shorter than he'd imagined.

But none of that mattered anymore.

Splash!

His steps sank into the viscous blood pool, his Reiatsu too depleted to sustain the high-speed Shunpo of earlier. Still, he charged forward unrelentingly.

Even facing Unohana's ecstatic gaze, he pressed onward.

In that moment, only one thought remained in Makoto's mind.

He might not fulfill his occasional dream of overwhelming Sensei in one go.

But at the very least, he'd land one strike!

Crimson glinted in the depths of his pupils. Oharai Gougi thrust forward, its tip shimmering with radiant light.

It was his will, condensed to its utmost.

Unohana's gaze, as if beholding a rare treasure, met his strike with an unrestrained swing.

Their blades, one straight, one angled, crossed.

Surprisingly, no metallic clang rang out.

Unohana's expression flickered with brief shock.

Makoto broke into a grin.

This strike hit her blade.

And in the next moment, it aimed for Unohana's neck.

Though his [script] was fully consumed, the last vestige of [Rule] power still functioned.

With their Reiatsu equalized.

In Unohana's stunned gaze.

She barely raised her left-hand dagger in time, deflecting his blade just enough to avoid a severed neck.

Their forms overlapped.

Their blades pierced each other's bodies in near unison.

Unohana's blade drove deep into Makoto's shoulder.

Makoto's blade left a deep gash on Unohana's tilted neck.

As he fell, he glimpsed the scene.

His body, long past its limit, collapsed.

Yet a satisfied smile lingered on his face.

"…"

The black-and-red blood curtain slowly dissipated.

In the end, only Unohana remained, her wide-sleeved robe gently cradling Makoto's form.

Her slender, pale hand brushed his hair.

After an unknown silence, Unohana spoke softly, "Had I known it would come to this, I should've waited longer to face you."

"After today's battle, how can I ever hold back?"

"Makoto-kun."

...

[1] HeLa cells is an immortalized cell line used in scientific research. It is the oldest human cell line and one of the most commonly used. HeLa cells are durable and prolific, allowing for extensive applications in scientific study. 

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Bonus Chapter:

100 Power Stones = 1 BC

300 Power Stones = 2 BC

500 Power Stones = 3 BC

700 Power Stones = 4 BC

1000 Power Stones = 5 BC

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