"So, Saitō-san wants me to help you with training?"
"Yes."
After speaking with Captain Unohana Retsu, Arata carefully presented his request, he hoped that she could personally guide him in his training.
Unohana's calm, deep eyes lowered slightly. Her gaze slid over his face, which reflected unshakable determination.
"I once had a connection with your ancestors," she said softly. "Therefore, it is my duty to help the younger generation of the Saitō family."
Arata felt a wave of joy, and just as he was about to express his gratitude, Unohana changed her tone.
"But," she added, "as a student of the Shin'ō Academy, wouldn't it be more appropriate for you to turn to your own instructors?"
"Besides," she smiled faintly, "I am merely the captain of the medical division. Combat has never been my strong point."
If someone else had heard those words, they would have believed her without a doubt.
But Arata knew the truth.
He had already prepared an answer that even Unohana couldn't refuse.
"Captain Unohana," he said slowly, "I do not intend to intrude on your privacy... but in the Saitō family records, I found words from our ancestors about you."
He paused, then continued seriously.
"'A brilliant talent. The embodiment of swordsmanship.' Those are their exact descriptions."
"Although I was surprised myself when I read that, I believe our ancestors didn't speak empty words."
As he spoke, Arata carefully observed her reaction.
The family records did indeed mention Unohana, but only briefly, nothing like the description he had invented.
He had merely added a few 'small' details to pique her interest.
But what he said was, in essence, true.
Unohana Retsu, also known as Yachiru Unohana, was a legendary swordswoman, a jewel in the history of the Soul Society.
Even Captain Yamamoto himself had acknowledged her level of kendo.
Arata's words brought a faint hint of surprise to her face.
At the corner of Unohana's lips appeared a subtle, almost imperceptible curve.
Of course, she wasn't fooled by flattery, she was far too old and wise for that.
But she felt that his words were spoken sincerely, without pretense.
It was a sincerity that warmed something long dormant in her heart.
You, young man... really make me happy.
Unohana tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear and said quietly.
"Since Saitō-san mentioned this so sincerely, it would be impolite for me to continue refusing."
Then she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and gentle challenge.
"How is your progress in kendo at the Academy?"
"Barely passing," Arata answered honestly.
Ever since arriving in this world, he realized that his body lacked great talent.
Although he was now among the top ten in his class, that was the result of six years of continuous, grueling effort.
If the system hadn't appeared, he probably would never have surpassed the level of an ordinary officer.
Unohana narrowed her eyes slightly.
So, the Saitō bloodline really has weakened that much?
The swordsmanship taught at the Academy wasn't particularly demanding, at least, not in her eyes.
If Arata was barely passing, it meant he truly had no talent.
"With your current strength," she said calmly, "training with me will be extremely painful. A hundred times harder than anything you've experienced at the Academy."
She looked straight into his eyes.
"Even so... will you still insist?"
Arata knew she wasn't trying to scare him, but to warn him.
If this had been a few days ago, he might have hesitated.
But now, with the blessing of the Soul King's bloodline, he felt as if he could overcome anything.
"Captain Unohana," he said firmly, "rest assured."
Then he straightened up and added.
"I came with the resolve... to die if I must."
Unohana silently watched the young shinigami before her.
In her heart, a sense of respect was born.
Such will, it was not ordinary.
It seems this will be interesting.
Fourth Division – Underground Training Room
"Here we are..."
After leaving the captain's office, Unohana led Arata through a hidden passage that led to her private training chamber, deep beneath the Fourth Division's building.
The room was vast and eerily silent.
A black ceiling, stone walls illuminated by the dim light of a few lanterns.
In the corner stood a rack of wooden swords of various sizes.
Though the space was empty, Arata felt a strange pressure in his chest.
His spiritual pressure slipped out of control, as if something invisible was suffocating him.
"Don't worry, Saitō-kun," Unohana said calmly.
"This is my private training room. I haven't used it in years." She smiled gently.
"This anxious feeling comes from the material the walls are made of, there's a lot of sekkisekki in them, a stone that suppresses and traps reiatsu."
Arata immediately recognized the term from his textbooks.
The deadly stone that blocks spiritual power... so that's why I feel this way.
They left their Zanpakutō aside and each took a wooden sword from the rack.
"Captain Unohana," Arata said as he gripped the sword, "I hope we can start practical training right away."
Unohana raised her eyebrows slightly.
"Saitō-san seems impatient. I had planned to begin with a bit of theory."
"Ah... because there's only a day and a half left until our internship mission," he explained.
"If I don't grow stronger by then, it'll be very dangerous." Unohana paused.
"Internship mission? Since when have they become so demanding?" She smiled softly and nodded lightly.
"Very well then. As you wish."
She raised her wooden sword.
"I will reduce my strength and speed to the level of an ordinary soldier... and attack you. Do you understand?"
"Please do!"
Before he could even finish the sentence, Unohana had already vanished from sight.
A moment later, her wooden sword was pointed at his chest.
Fast!
Arata barely managed to react, instinctively raising his sword to block the strike.
Bam!
The sound of wooden swords clashing echoed through the room.
Arata struggled to withstand it, but the strike was unbelievably strong.
Even with her power restrained, Unohana was overwhelming.
Is this really the level of an ordinary soldier?
In theory, their strength should now be almost equal, but reality was brutal.
Unohana drew back her sword and continued attacking without hesitation.
A series of precise thrusts followed one after another, swift, silent, merciless.
In kendo, the thrust is a basic technique.
But in her hands, even that simple move became a deadly art.
The attacks came from all sides, chest, back, neck, face.
Arata was forced to retreat, barely catching his breath.
If this had been before, he would have already been defeated.
But now...
His Soul King bloodline pulsed within him.
With every strike, every parry, he felt as if his body was absorbing the technique, the understanding, the rhythm.
Like a dry sponge soaking up water.
Just fifteen minutes later, the situation began to change.
From a completely defensive position, Arata began to counterattack occasionally.
One counter for every ten of Unohana's strikes... then one for every five...
In the end, their blows met evenly.
Instead of tiring, his body felt lighter, more energetic.
His movements grew faster, sharper, almost instinctive.
Unohana noticed it.
She felt something she hadn't experienced in a long time, genuine surprise mixed with excitement.
A faint smile appeared on her face, one she couldn't hide.
"I'm starting to like you, Arata..."