The girl's soft voice carried a strange temptation as she whispered, "Want to see Opie?" The words lingered faintly in the sterile air of the ward while the sky outside flickered with the light of distant explosions. Smoke rose and dispersed like dying souls across the night, its glow reflecting in the windowpane and painting the room in flashes of pale fire. The faint hum of the monitors merged with the rustle of curtains, and an ambiguous, fragile atmosphere began to spread through the silence.
Xia Ji leaned closer, her smooth cheek pressing lightly against the boy's as she watched him with quiet curiosity. Her eyes, usually cold, held a trace of expectation. Yet after a long pause, disappointment clouded her face. The teenager lying unconscious on the bed showed no reaction. The monitor beside him continued its mechanical rhythm beep, beep, beep his breathing steady and even, as if time had stopped around him. For four years, nothing had changed. Xia Ji's delicate brows furrowed. In her eyes, any ordinary boy would have twitched, blushed, or shown at least the faintest sign of awareness after hearing that kind of word. But this one remained perfectly still. Not even a flicker of his eyelashes moved. Which meant only one thing he wasn't pretending. He was truly in a coma.
A storm of emotion passed through Xia Ji's gaze disappointment, irritation, faint anger. She had finally emerged, yet the one she came to see lay motionless, sleeping like a dead pig. He didn't even care that she was here. The thought left her both exasperated and strangely hollow. After a long while, she straightened, her expression regaining its usual composure. The playful glint faded from her eyes, replaced by something calm, distant, almost lonely. Looking down at the unconscious boy, she remained silent for a long time before whispering, "1J08… this time, I'll help you."
Her voice was clear, cold, and emotionless perhaps one of the few real emotions she still possessed. Slowly, Xia Ji raised her hand and gently tapped the boy's forehead. A crisp sound echoed twice crack, crack. The air stirred slightly as her lips curved into a faint, mischievous smile. "Sleep well, Baozi." A soft breeze swept through the room, and in the blink of an eye, the girl's figure faded like mist, leaving only the faint scent of steel and frost.
Moments later, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor da, da, da and two figures appeared at the door. It was Unohana Retsu and Kotetsu Isane. Isane was slightly out of breath, eyes wide with confusion. She didn't understand why her captain, after leaving Sōkyoku Hill, had not rushed to heal the wounded across the Seireitei but instead returned straight to the general medical clinic. Unohana, however, offered no explanation. Her gaze was fixed sharply on the ward.
Ever since the battle on Sōkyoku Hill, a thought had gnawed at her mind. The boy's Zanpakutō spirit hadn't appeared there. So where was it? The answer had come to her almost instantly here. Su Li's ward. And now, seeing the faint traces of Reiatsu lingering in the air, she knew she was right. On her way back, she had sensed something strange and unfamiliar. Almost every Shinigami's spiritual pressure was one she could recognize after so many years. Only one remained elusive Su Li's. He rarely revealed it, even in combat. Zanpakutō spirits were always attuned to their masters. So when an unfamiliar Reiatsu appeared here of all places, she understood immediately it was Su Li's sword beast.
But she had arrived too late. By the time she stepped into the clinic, the Reiatsu had already vanished without a trace. "Damn…" she muttered under her breath, her face darkening as she looked toward the open window. The curtains fluttered in the breeze, pale against the moonlight. Of all the Zanpakutō spirits that had rebelled, Su Li's was by far the most dangerous. If his sword beast went out of control, the consequences could devastate the Seireitei itself.
On the way here, Unohana had already made her decision. If she encountered Su Li's sword beast, she would stop it no matter the cost. Even if she had to reveal her true self before everyone, even if she had to unleash her Bankai, she would do it. Someone had to bear that burden. Captain Yamamoto was no longer here. Until his return, she would protect the Seireitei. Though to the outside world she was the gentle captain of the Fourth Division, in truth she was the First Generation Kenpachi the hidden blade of the Gotei 13, once its second strongest force. Perhaps now she ranked third, but the top two were long gone. That left her to shoulder the weight of responsibility.
Still, she had missed her chance. The sword beast had already vanished. Narrowing her eyes, she approached the hospital bed. A soft hum filled the air as she checked the boy's condition. When she saw him safe and still breathing peacefully, she finally exhaled in relief. His safety was another reason she had returned so quickly. Given the hostility of the sword beasts, it was entirely possible that Su Li's might have turned on him. But now, seeing him unharmed, her worry eased. The young spirit had done nothing. Su Li remained untouched, asleep, and perfectly still. It puzzled her, but it was better than the alternative.
Raising one hand, she summoned a faint blue glow that spread across the ward. In an instant, transparent barriers shimmered around the bed Mirror Gates, a high-level Kidō barrier. Nearly unbreakable from the outside, yet easily undone from within. Once the barrier was set, Unohana's calm returned. She turned to Isane, her tone gentle yet firm. "Let's go, Miss Isane. Notify the teams head to the battlefields and tend to the wounded."
"Y-Yes, Captain!" Isane straightened immediately. The two of them disappeared down the corridor, and the remaining medical team members rushed out to follow their orders.
At the same time, far away in another realm a frozen world of white Rukia gasped for breath. Her body was covered in cuts, blood staining her tattered uniform. Opposite her stood an ethereal figure, radiant and cold, as beautiful as carved ice. It was Sode no Shirayuki.
Looking at her Zanpakutō spirit, Rukia's expression twisted with grief and anger. "Why are you doing this?" she cried. "Did I ever treat you badly?"
Sode no Shirayuki's tone was calm, distant, without warmth or hatred. "Surrender. I don't wish to be your enemy."
Rukia trembled, her voice rising with emotion. "Answer me!" But the spirit only lowered her gaze briefly, smoothing the torn corner of her skirt before looking up again, her eyes clear and cold. "This change is inevitable. If you submit, you won't lose anything. The relationship between us will merely shift. A simple exchange of roles. Accept defeat, and we can still live and fight together."
Her words carried no malice, but they cut deeper than any blade. Rage burned across Rukia's face as she raised her Zanpakutō, her hands shaking. "Become your vassal? Don't joke with me! I've trained for years endured countless battles not to bow down to my own blade!" Her voice rang across the frozen field, echoing like shattering glass. "Without hands to wield the sword, it's nothing but a lifeless tool! The king and the mount this is the simplest truth!"
In the next heartbeat, Rukia's figure blurred. She lunged forward, flash step cutting through the snow, left hand weaving into a seal. She had finally learned how to fight her own Zanpakutō. The spirit knew her perfectly, but that meant she also knew the spirit's moves. The time to counterattack had come.
"Hadō number thirty"
Just before she released the spell, Sode no Shirayuki spoke softly. "By the way, I forgot to tell you one thing. If the blade spirit dies… it disappears forever."
Rukia froze mid-chant. Her pupils widened. "What… did you say?" Her voice trembled. "That's a lie…"
Sode no Shirayuki's expression didn't change. "If the Zanpakutō spirit dies, the sword itself dies. You understand what that means."
Rukia's breath caught. The implication struck her like a blade through the heart. No more Shikai. No more Bankai. Her weapon would become a mere piece of steel nothing more. The thought hollowed her from within.
"So," Sode no Shirayuki said, her voice serene, her gaze indifferent, "what will you choose?"
Her eyes, like frozen glass, reflected no emotion only the stillness of judgment.