The next month was chaos for the Gotei 13's 4th Division.
The joint assault of the Hollows during the noble hunting event had left both nobles and Shinigami dead in droves.
Not only because of Baraggan's grotesque powers—just one of him had held back four captains at once—but also because another terrifying Arrancar appeared that day: a man who called himself Coyote Starrk.
The Shinigami had not been helpless. But Yamamoto, fearing a deeper trap, had left a third of the forces and five captains to guard Seireitei. By the time they realized only two Arrancar led the attack, sending reinforcements was too late. The Hollows had already retreated.
What shook Soul Society most, though, were the two abilities the enemy revealed.
One was called the "Death Knot"—a construct that absorbed all Reiryoku directed at it. Zanpakutō powers, kidō, everything pulled into it. Only field-type powers or physical force could break through.
The other was "Death Drain"—every clash with those Hollows forced Reishi out of a Shinigami's body, nearly impossible to restore. The longer the fight, the weaker they became.
These two new tricks left the Gotei reeling. Casualties mounted.
And the 4th Division bore the burden. For a month, all they did was heal.
Higashino, the 3rd seat, was no exception. With healing skill second only to Unohana and Seinosuke, he never left the ward. Day after day, night after night. He hadn't even managed to meet Aizen once in that time.
At last, after passing the last critical patient into ordinary care, he stepped outside the barracks, breathing fresh Seireitei air for the first time in weeks.
But inside, a pair of eyes had never left him.
"Ya, Yachiru, this isn't very welcoming. You invited me to watch flower arrangements, but your eyes have been outside the whole time. Don't tell me you've finally found a man who stirs your heart?"
In the 4th Division captain's room, a voluptuous, purple-haired, brown-eyed woman laughed as she reclined in her chair.
"Stir my heart?" Unohana smiled faintly. "Just curious."
The woman sat up straight, lips parting—only for Unohana to cut in: "Kirio, did the comparison records I asked for come through?"
Yes—this was Kirio Hikifune, captain of the 12th.
"I knew it. You never really wanted to show me flower art." Kirio pouted playfully, then dropped it with a shrug. "There's some differences from your guess. But we can't rule out a link either. The core methods line up."
She placed two thick reports on the table.
"But this one—" she tapped the left-hand stack—"is fifty years old. Just a handful of incidents. Honestly, if I hadn't given them to Hiyori for practice, they'd never have been logged at all. Why did you suddenly care two years ago? And why tie them to this new event now?"
She had wanted to ask for years, but now she couldn't ignore it.
"Only curiosity. Do true coincidences exist in this world?" Unohana smiled, hiding her real thoughts.
But Kirio, half in the dark, sensed more.
"…Is this about the Shinigami who was nearly eaten two years ago? The one you treated? His body looked whole, but part of it was damaged beyond repair. Just like those incidents fifty years back. Back then, none of them could ever serve again."
Unohana didn't answer. Instead she asked quietly, "So, Kirio—if you had to choose: natural evolution of Hollows? Or deliberate design?"
The room fell silent.
Kirio looked at her, and her gut told her: the answer mattered. More than either of them would admit.
Finally, she exhaled. "…If it were me, I'd choose the latter."
"I see."
Unohana turned back to the window, gaze falling where Higashino's figure had vanished moments earlier.
"Coincidence, then? That every Shinigami attacked by such Hollows was treated by you? Or…"
Her voice was barely a whisper, meant only for herself.
It was too early for a conclusion. But it was not too early to act.
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