A Feeling Kurotsuchi Mayuri Never Understood
Kurotsuchi Mayuri was heading toward the Seireitei's First District, riding atop a monstrous black dog larger than a cow.
Initially, he hadn't been particularly interested in the intrusion into Seireitei—especially since the intruders had brazenly challenged Captain-Commander Yamamoto directly. He disliked wasting energy on trivialities and only wished to complete the "Super Hound" experiment as soon as possible.
That indifference changed the moment Shiraishi released his Reiatsu.
Mayuri immediately recognized the irritating presence and, rather than remain in his laboratory, decided to release the prototype into the field to test its effectiveness—or expose flaws in need of correction.
The beast beneath him was the most successful of all his modified hounds. Its body, reinforced with countless chemical stimulants, had not yet collapsed. Its limbs were grotesquely muscular, as if stuffed into a human-shaped muscle suit, and its balding hide revealed patches of jet-black skin.
It was hideous.
But beauty was irrelevant. The Super Hound was designed for one purpose: to track Shiraishi's scent.
With olfactory enhancements allowing it to distinguish over four million odors, its nose was unparalleled. Its speed rivaled that of a seated officer—nearly vice-captain class. Unfortunately, its jaw could not close, and corrosive green saliva constantly dripped from its maw, hissing against the ground. That flaw still required correction.
Man and beast soon arrived outside the ground-level chamber of Central 46. The devastation was staggering. A perfectly straight trail of destruction stretched for kilometers, leveling countless structures.
"Woof—woof!"
The black dog slammed onto the ruined roadway and bellowed, spattering acidic drool that seared the stone.
Mayuri leapt down and strode toward a stretcher where Nemu lay motionless. His face, painted in black and white, revealed nothing of his thoughts.
Kotetsu Isane turned sharply, tension written on her features.
"Captain Kurotsuchi—Nemu is gravely injured. She needs treatment in Squad Four immediately."
"Out of my way."
Mayuri's voice was sharp, cold. "The general infirmary is worthless. In my Division Twelve laboratory, I can repair her far more efficiently. My lieutenant requires no treatment from you."
"That is our duty," Isane shot back, refusing to move.
The hound growled menacingly, claws gouging furrows into the ground.
Golden eyes gleaming with murderous intent, Mayuri placed his hand on the sword that hung obscenely at his waist. "I'll say this once more—move."
The air itself seemed to freeze.
Fear clawed its way through Isane's chest. Every instinct screamed that if she resisted, he would cut her down without hesitation. Yet if she yielded, what horrors awaited Nemu back in Division Twelve?
Her lips trembled, but she bit down hard and stood firm.
Mayuri's rage flared. How dare a mere third-seat oppose him? His hand pressed harder on the hilt—
And then a calm voice cut through the tension.
"Captain Kurotsuchi. Please do not interfere with our work."
The white haori of Squad Four drifted into view. Unohana Retsu did not even look back.
Mayuri's eyes narrowed. After a long pause, he released the hilt and shoved his Zanpakutō back into its sheath.
"Thank you for your cooperation," Unohana added softly.
The words only deepened his fury, but he said nothing. His gaze slid to the hound—once snarling, now cowering like a whipped pet.
"Useless thing."
With a hiss of disgust, Mayuri drew a remote from his sleeve and pressed a switch.
The hound's body convulsed. Muscles bulged uncontrollably, crushing its own skull. Its massive eyes shrank to pinpoints—and with a sickening bang, the beast exploded into gore, leaving only a steaming crater.
"Captain Kurotsuchi!" Isane's voice trembled with fury. "That was cruel beyond reason!"
He sneered. "It was a failure. Keeping junk serves no purpose."
In his mind, a Super Hound required three qualities: resistance to spiritual pressure, acute scent discernment, and superior speed. This one had failed at the first, and its other traits were mediocre. It was nothing more than a disposable trial.
"Yongyin—"
"Enough." Unohana's voice was firm. "Once she is stabilized, return her to the main treatment center."
"…No… that won't be necessary."
A weak murmur came from the stretcher.
Nemu's eyelids fluttered open. Though her vision was blurred, she recognized the figures above her.
"Nemu, don't speak," Isane urged, kneeling quickly.
But Nemu shook her head. Her face was pale, yet her tone carried unyielding conviction.
"Thank you, Kotetsu… but I must return. I've seen so much these past days—the sights, the people, the meals I learned to cook… And each time, my first thought was how to describe it all to Mayuri-sama, to share my joy.
He is my only family in this world. The father I love most. That will never change."
Her strength faded, and she slipped back into unconsciousness.
Isane's hands trembled. To love a man so monstrous—was that loyalty, or tragedy?
The hound's corpse still steamed nearby, its blood soaking into the ground. What would await Nemu when she returned?
Even Mayuri himself stood silent. He had never seen her speak so much, or with such unmistakably human warmth. She looked… alive.
Emotions.
He had always dismissed them as hindrances—useless clutter that obstructed science. Only cold logic yielded perfect results.
But perhaps—just perhaps—he had been mistaken.
He thought of Urahara Kisuke. Of the Quincies he had studied. For the first time, a new, alien curiosity stirred within him.
He wanted to understand these feelings. Love. Loyalty. Faith. Friendship.
"Very well," he said at last. "I'll leave her treatment to you."
His gaze turned toward Sokyoku Hill, where a storm of spiritual pressure raged. The endgame approached. Since he had come this far, perhaps he would collect another test subject.
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