Bleach: Starting as a Vasto Lorde

Taking a seat by Kazuya’s side, Unohana’s face returned to her usual calm. “This cold breeze feels invigorating. You won’t feel the same energy when rushing towards your destination with Shunpo.”

“To be fair, yesterday I rushed to save my neck from you. Not exactly the best circumstances to take notice of our nature.”

Unohana turned to him, smiling. “I remember you declaring that nobody in the Soul Society could harm you. Whatever happened to that claim?”

“Oh, it still holds true. Not many people can kill me when I commit to defense.”

With his shield and ridiculous regeneration, he was the most resilient cockroach in the world. Trading his offensive abilities for defensive was very situational, but at least he had the option.

Unohana, who didn’t know about his Zanpakutō’s defensive capabilities, attributed his confidence to his regeneration ability — a boon for her since she wouldn’t have to use her Bankai to heal the wounds he’d suffer in the coming days.

Unaware of Unohana’s designs, Kazuya lay back and gazed up at the ever-changing sky as they journeyed from the bustling Seireitei to the lush forests beyond.

“Retsu, I’m feeling drowsy. Can I get a lap pillow?”

“Isane might oblige if you stop teasing her. Just being sincere will make her accept your affectionate advances.”

Unohana had no qualms about Kazuya pursuing Isane, or rather, she was in full support of them being together. As sharp as she was, she didn’t know that he was serious about taking both the Vice-Captain and Captain.

“But if you harm her in any way,” Unohana whispered, slowly turning toward him with her narrow-eyed smile that held a sharp edge like a blade. “I shall remind you why I was known as the most infamous villain in Soul Society’s history.”

“But she isn’t here. You are!”

Unohana blinked, momentarily taken aback by his nonchalance in the face of her threat. She had yet to become used to his ‘I don’t fear anyone, not even you, Yachiru Unohana’ attitude.

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. “I will not indulge any of your quirky ideas.”

“...”

As they crossed the forest, the aforementioned ‘Hills where flowers bloom’ came into view — gentle slopes blanketed in layers of white and violet flowers. He had imagined some barren hills with a few flowers, not this rich scenery.

“This place is too colorful for our training,” he remarked with a side glance at the stern captain. “I thought you'd choose something dark and edgy like Muken.”

The Muken was a voided space completely sealed off from the outside world, aside from the main tower that served as its entrance and exit. The vast darkness gave the illusion that it stretched on infinitely — it was a perfect arena for them to go all out without disturbing anyone in the Soul Society.

“I’d take you there if it was within my authority… Unfortunately, non-prisoners aren’t allowed in there without the Captain Commander’s permission.”

{She and Kenpachi entered Muken when they were under threat of extermination by Quincy.}

Kazuya gently nudged Unohana with his knee. “I happen to know someone who can design our very own Muken.”

“Kisuke Urahara…”

Knowing his secret alliance with Kisuke certainly allowed her to decipher his thoughts more clearly.

“It shouldn’t be hard for a genius like him.”

Unohana nodded her head. “It will be invaluable for your training. Perhaps I should escort you to the Living World afterwards?”

As a Captain, she had authority over the Senkaimon door, without any obligation to disclose her intentions behind trips.

“I’ll accept your kindness then.”

{Oh, I just remembered something!} Nami's sudden exclamation jolted Kazuya.

‘Well, care to share it with your lover?’

{Nothing—I’ll tell you after your training.}

‘Is it important?’

{Somewhat. Your training is more important.}

‘Tsubasa, is she lying?’

“Father, I—”

{Tsu, do not disturb him. His strength has stagnated. He must take this opportunity to sharpen his skills, or else he’ll suffer in the not-so-distant future.}

Truthfully, he didn’t stagnate. He simply didn’t experience the same explosive growth he did in the past few months, which was bound to happen sooner or later.

“She is right… Father must become stronger.”

His Zanpakutō Spirits teamed up against him, denying him of this ‘important’ information related to him.

‘Nami, expect a thorough spanking if it turns out to be very important.’

{Ahhh~, I’m so ready for the abuse!}

Jumping down from Minazuki’s back, Kazuya’s feet met the lush grass, the vibrant blades bowing beneath his weight. Unohana gracefully descended behind him as Minazuki shimmered and distorted, flowing into her sheath as the same green viscous fluid and once more taking the form of her katana.

Kazuya took off the garments gifted by Byakuya and neatly folded it. He loved the fitting too much to let it get shredded by Unohana’s blade.

The cold breeze caressed his bare torso, reminding him of the days of meditating with his Zanpakutō in the dojo.

“What a girly body,” Unohana remarked with a smile. “Fear not. I shall make a true man out of you by carving scars of glory on your entire body.”

“Just spare the innocent lad between my legs.”

“I shall endeavor, however, I cannot promise your gential’s safety.”

He grimaced and faced Unohana before glancing at the flower field. “You chose a real contrasting place for our violent dance.”

“The flowers will elevate your focus. I have to make sure you don’t get distracted during a crucial moment.”

Kazuya closed his eyes, the biting failure with Hōgyoku and Aizen still fresh in his mind. Had he maintained his focus, Aizen would have returned to the Soul Society not as a living soul, but as a decomposing corpse.

“Yeah, you’re right. My focus needs a lot of work.”

“Admitting your shortcomings is as good a start as any. Anyhow, you aren’t alone in your struggle.”

Unohana’s hands moved to the strap across her shoulder, deftly pulling it over her head. Gripping her sheath, she drew her katana with deliberate slowness, letting each section of the blade glint in the pouring sunlight. The blade, like its hilt, was unusually large, more akin to a nodachi than an ordinary katana.

Her blade flashed as she severed the clips binding her braids, freeing her hair to dance wildly in the wind.

The jagged scar beneath her throat stood out on her otherwise unblemished pale skin.

Her cold gaze collided with him. “When I sense your strength, I, too, find myself losing grasp of these dark urges.”

“Now I’m losing for a completely different reason,” he muttered under his breath, desire and anticipation warring within him at the sight of her ghostly beauty. He pinched his cheek, and the pain that washed over him purged his distracting thoughts. “Well, let’s lose control.”

“Draw your sword and face me. No Shikai. No Shunpo. No Sonido. Fight me like you’re a sheep before wolf. Fight me like you’re desperate to survive.”

She pointed her sword at him.

“Prove to me that you are more than a helpless weakling when stripped of your sublime gifts.”

He smoothly slid his katana out of its sheath. “Nami will have a field day today.”