Bleach: Love and Bonds Make Me Stronger!

A familiar ceiling.

When Makoto awoke, his eyes once again reflected a somewhat familiar sight.

But this time, it wasn't Tenjirō Kirinji's grand bathhouse, it was his own small room.

"You awake, Makoto-kun?"

"What's one plus one?"

No sooner had he opened his eyes than Katori's gentle voice sounded in his ear.

Turning his head, he saw the ever-empathetic Katori holding up three fingers with a small hand.

Makoto gave her a look as if she were an idiot. "Two."

"Katori-san, I stopped falling for that game when I was seven."

Clap.

Katori clapped her hands delightedly, her face still adorned with that signature frail smile.

"Looks like Makoto-kun's fully conscious."

"But that was reckless." She softly chided, her voice gentle. "With your personality, to think you'd willingly face off against that Unohana-sama… and push it to that extent."

"Do you know, Makoto-kun? Nearly a twentieth of West 79th District is gone."

"It'll probably be uninhabitable for at least fifty years."

"Huh?"

Makoto froze, his sluggish mind struggling to process.

No way, right?

"No way… that's what you're thinking, isn't it?" Katori saw through him instantly, chuckling. "What level of power do you think you two are at now?"

"And Unohana-sama even used her Bankai."

"Your Bankai domains obliterated the foundational Reishi of a huge area, the Soul Society is fragile, you know."

"I heard half the Kidō Corps was mobilized to stabilize the residual damage from your battle."

"Unohana-sama got a thorough scolding from the Captain Commander for using her Bankai in the Soul Society without permission."

"Super scary!"

Katori said this, but her barely concealed excitement made it clear she was reveling in the gossip.

"…"

Makoto was momentarily speechless, staring wide-eyed at her.

All he remembered was fighting.

He had no recollection of the surroundings.

"It's that bad?"

Makoto tugged at the corner of his mouth awkwardly.

"Normally, it wouldn't be."

Katori leaned forward suddenly, her lovely face nearly touching his. But her gaze, hidden behind plain glasses, betrayed her true nature.

"But… you're special, Makoto-kun."

Her lips curled into a deeply intrigued smile. "According to the Kidō Corps, your Zanpakuto has an exceptionally powerful rule-based ability."

"Because of your Zanpakuto, the surrounding Reishi environment was 'infected' and transformed."

"It's like you carved out a piece of Hueco Mundo and forced it into the Soul Society."

"…"

Makoto stiffened, his pupils contracting instinctively.

So it was the script world invading the Soul Society?

He'd sensed this "invasion" The moment his full Shikai manifested, but he hadn't realized it could alter the world's very essence.

"By the way, where's Unohana-sensei?"

"How is she now?"

Makoto snapped back to reality.

Though his memory was fuzzy, he was certain his final strike had hit her neck.

At his question, a glint flashed across Katori's glasses, and a faint smile curved her lips.

"That's exactly why I'm here watching over you, because of Unohana-sama."

Her voice was soft as she asked, "How did you do it?"

The girl leaned closer from his bedside, lowering her voice. "Your Zanpakuto, Makoto-kun, what did it do?"

"To leave a scar on that woman."

"That's just…"

As she spoke, Katori's hand unconsciously gripped Makoto's wrist, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

"…incredible!"

Makoto blinked, then glanced at Katori, tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Just then, his bastard Zanpakuto's childish voice piped up from the bedside.

[Makoto-sama! Let her try!]

[Don't you dare stop her!!]

[I've been dying to that big boobs!]

[Watch me suck her boobs first, then eat her ass, and prprpr!]

The voice alone made it sound like the bastard Zanpakuto was drooling from its sheath, sloshing noisily.

Katori's gaze lingered on the Zanpakuto for a few seconds before returning to Makoto, a hint of surprise in her eyes.

That confident, huh?

Makoto waved a hand weakly. "Anyway, that's the gist of it."

"I don't think Katori-san would want to know."

He was speaking the absolute truth, no exaggeration.

Oharai Gougi was a Zanpakuto that dragged both wielder and victim into social death.

Makoto had learned this the hard way.

Unohana hadn't spilled the details of his ability, had she?

A sudden worry gnawed at him.

If the day came when he had to reveal his ability publicly…

Others would say, "I can breathe fire." "He can shoot water." "You can perform combat arts."

And he'd have to say, "My Shikai creates a special domain with a dojo full of bound women, and the defeated become slaves…"

Just imagining saying that in front of a crowd…

Wait!

Makoto's brows furrowed.

Compared to his Zanpakuto's true power, that description actually seemed… kind of acceptable?!

He sucked in a sharp breath.

"That's the terrifying thing about your zanpakuto, isn't it?"

"Unknowingly dragging my core into the abyss."

"Your zanpakuto just too terrifying."

"Hm?"

Katori tilted her head, puzzled, as Makoto muttered to himself.

Just then, a figure crashed through the window like a shadow, shouting and tumbling onto Makoto's bed like a swallow diving into a forest.

"Makoto!!!"

Thud!

Saito, the Olympic-level gymnast, executed a flawless 720-degree Thomas flair mid-air, landing squarely on Makoto's stomach with both small feet, eliciting a muffled groan.

Makoto's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Ohhh!!"

Saito's single, ageless eye gleamed wide with excitement. She grabbed his shoulders, shouting, "I knew it! That Reiatsu I felt was spot-on!"

"You're finally awake!"

"Great job, Makoto, you did it!"

"Leaving a mark on that old hag! That's my boy!"

Saito shook him vigorously, oblivious to Makoto's expression, which looked like he was about to fall apart.

"Wait, Saito, hold on!"

Makoto struggled to resist, but he couldn't overpower her.

The issue between Saito and Unohana wasn't just a grudge, it was an obsession!

Now, just for leaving a scar on Unohana, Saito was so thrilled she could probably laugh in her sleep.

It took Katori stepping in to stop her.

"Saito-senpai."

"Makoto-kun's at his limit. Please stop."

Katori grabbed her wrist.

Saito froze, turning with a puzzled look at the well-endowed woman beside her. "What're you doing here?"

A faint glint flickered behind Katori's glasses as she squinted slightly, but her voice remained as frail as ever. "Makoto-kun's injuries were severe, and Tenjirō-san was temporarily called to the Soul King Palace, so it's better I stay by his side."

"I know a bit of Kaido, too."

Stare...

Saito's lone eye fixed on Katori.

Suddenly, she felt a twinge of concern.

Come to think of it, back in Hueco Mundo, didn't this woman get along pretty well with Makoto?

The thought sparked a small irritation in Saito's chest.

But she couldn't just lash out for no reason.

So she waved it off. "No matter! Tenjirō's back, and I'm here to take Makoto to him!"

"You head to the 1st Division barracks first!"

"That old man Yamamoto said there's a meeting soon."

"Eh?"

Katori blinked, startled.

Before she could respond, Saito hoisted Makoto over her shoulder like a rolled-up mat, leaping out the window with ease.

In a flash, she was gone.

Once Saito's Reiatsu faded into the distance, Katori's stunned expression returned to normal.

The girl adjusted her slightly slipping glasses, gazing after Saito's retreating figure with intrigue. "Saito-senpai really cares about Makoto-kun, doesn't she?"

"Cute."

…

Tenjirō's skills were, as expected, impeccable.

Though he grumbled about "just finishing training and already working" or "you brat wasting my Reiatsu again." as a healer, he was thoroughly professional.

After a brief soak in the hot springs, the last traces of Makoto's injuries vanished completely.

Saito stayed by his side the whole time.

From the moment Makoto started soaking, she leaned against the wall outside the bathhouse, staring into the distance, lost in thought.

By the time they reached the 1st Division barracks, the other captains were already assembled.

Bang!

The doors swung open.

Makoto and Saito stepped into the barracks.

But unlike before, the moment Makoto entered, many in the room turned their gazes toward him, their expressions a complex mix.

Wary, shocked, skeptical, neutral, friendly.

All varied.

Only Unohana, at the end of the line, turned and offered him a gentle smile.

But seeing Unohana's current appearance, Makoto's expression faltered.

Instead of her usual loose, flowing hair, Unohana had tied her raven-black locks into a braid, the tail draped over her right shoulder, perfectly concealing the scar on her neck.

A dangerous hairstyle!

Yet, perhaps it was an illusion, but with her hair tied up, her usual cold, aloof aura seemed to soften into something warm and gentle.

At first glance, one might mistake her for "someone's kind wife."

Even so, most captains present still not dare meet her gaze.

The Soul Society's Most Diabolical Criminal.

Unohana Yachiru.

Those two names were carved through bloodshed with her blade.

Countless strong souls had fallen to her sword.

Yet…

The captains' gazes shifted to Makoto.

In just a few years, he could stand toe-to-toe with such a powerhouse?

Truly worthy of… Yamamoto's chosen one.

The barracks' atmosphere grew heavy.

Only Saito, oblivious to the mood, didn't bother reading the room.

Noticing Unohana's sudden hairstyle change, her lone eye widened, cheeks puffing as she barely held it in.

"Pfft-"

"That hairstyle, what's with that hairstyle!"

"It's like she's someone else's wife!"

Makoto hurriedly clamped a hand over her mouth, his grip so strong he nearly lifted Saito's petite frame off the ground. Her legs flailed in the air as she kicked.

Unohana's smile turned chillingly serene as she looked at them.

Her voice remained calm, "Take your place, Makoto-kun."

"Yes."

After quietly scolding the idiot Saito and taking a kick to the rear, Makoto hurried to stand behind Unohana.

But his gaze lingered on her braid.

After a moment's hesitation, he whispered, "Unohana-sensei?"

Unohana seemed to notice his stare. Her fingertips gently lifted the braid on her shoulder, revealing a sliver only Makoto could see.

A dark red scar snaked diagonally across her pale neck, like a centipede branded onto her skin, faintly menacing.

Makoto's gaze remained puzzled.

With Unohana's Kaido skills, or even Minazuki's vitality alone, erasing that scar would be effortless, wouldn't it?

Why go through the trouble of hiding it with her hair?

As if reading his thoughts, Unohana smiled gently. "After all, it's something you left on me, Makoto-kun."

Makoto's expression stiffened.

When Unohana said this, her demeanor carried a provocative, eager glint.

As if she wanted another round.

Suddenly, his freshly healed wounds started itching again.

That's Unohana for you.

As the two whispered, a thud echoed as Yamamoto's sword sheath struck the floor.

"Vice-Captain of the 11th Division."

"Makoto Fujimiya."

"Do you know your sin?"

In an instant, all eyes in the room converged on him once more.

Makoto looked up, confused.

"Huh?"

***

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

***

If you want to read up to 50 chapters ahead, don't hesitate to visit our patron: pat reon . com / XElenea (remove space)