Unohana Retsu, formerly known as Yachiru Unohana, was once the most fearsome criminal Soul Society had ever seen—a thousand years ago.
She was defeated and brought under control by the Captain-Commander himself.
She was the founder of the Eleventh Division and of its battle-hardened ideology. She was also the very first to bear the title of Kenpachi.
And that title—Kenpachi—meant the strongest swordsman among all Shinigami.
Yachiru—a name signifying one who had mastered every style of swordsmanship in existence.
But standing beside her now, Nobu could feel only her gentleness, grace, and poise. As for the rumored "hidden cruelty"… he hadn't seen any sign of it.
Nobu didn't believe Unohana had abandoned her true self. Her mastery of Kaidō was unmatched, yes—but to think that she took interest in him just because his Zanpakutō was healing-type? He wasn't convinced.
Especially not after seeing the favorability value listed by his system.
As the student council president, Nobu had access to his own Academy records. His kendo results were noted as "exceptional innate talent."
He figured that what Unohana had said earlier was likely nothing more than polite interest—a captain's professional courtesy.
A crowd had gathered around the stage. When Renji won, a wave of cheers rippled through the onlookers.
Some of the Shinigami even broke into spontaneous applause.
Renji let out a long breath and stepped forward to help his opponent—an upperclassman—up from the platform. He asked courteously, "You okay?"
In truth, Renji was feeling a little proud of himself.
Sure, I suck at Kidō. But I'm not bad at everything.
The upperclassman didn't say much. He didn't even take the consolation prize—just turned and walked off despite someone behind him shouting, "Hey, your prize!"
Losing to a first-year was just too humiliating. He never should've stepped onto the stage in the first place.
The first-year students running the booth called out again: "Anyone else want to challenge? There's still a mystery prize waiting for the right contender!"
The crowd exchanged uncertain looks. Seeing an upperclassman get defeated had dampened the enthusiasm of many would-be challengers.
Some of the Shinigami were confident they could win, but of course they wouldn't stoop to bullying students.
"What's the mystery prize?"
A voice rose above the murmur, immediately drawing everyone's attention.
Unohana had already attracted no shortage of gazes just by being present. But it was Nobu, standing beside her, who had spoken. And the students all knew who he was.
The student council president. Technically a student, but practically part of the school's upper echelon.
The student on the platform looked nervously at Unohana before replying, "That… that can only be revealed if you win."
Nobu stepped forward and leapt lightly onto the stage.
"How about I give it a try?"
Abarai Renji immediately recognized him. Though they hadn't spoken before, Renji had heard a lot about Nobu through Rukia. Every time she talked about the student council, aside from mentioning Hinamori, she always talked about him.
Things like "The president is such a great person," or "I want to be like the president one day."
At first, Renji hadn't thought much of this so-called president. But hearing Rukia talk about him that way, time and again—especially right in front of him—had made Renji develop a slight grudge.
Not that he was even fully aware of it himself.
Now, seeing Nobu in person, that restlessness within him stirred even more.
Defeat him!
This guy was one of the Academy's most talked-about prodigies. And now, with so many people watching—even captains—Renji could feel the blood rushing through his veins.
He tossed a wooden sword toward Nobu.
"Of course you can."
"Want to take a breather first?" Nobu offered helpfully.
"No need!"
Renji strode to the other end of the platform, gripping the sword in both hands as he settled into a stance.
"Let's go!"
Nobu tested the balance of the wooden sword in his hand, then looked unhurriedly toward Renji.
Renji inhaled deeply and centered himself. He studied Nobu's relaxed posture—it looked wide open, almost careless, filled with exploitable gaps.
He shouted and charged, blade aimed straight for Nobu's chest.
He'd heard plenty about the student council president's skill, but there was no substitute for experiencing it firsthand.
His wooden blade lunged forward, aiming center mass.
Nobu raised his own weapon—slowly, almost lazily—at a speed Renji could easily follow. It looked like a clumsy block.
But Renji had sharp instincts. In a flash, he shifted, transforming the thrust into a sweeping horizontal cut, slicing in a wide arc.
Smack!
A sharp, echoing crack rang across the platform.
Renji yelped—his knuckles stung as his sword went flying from his hands. He hadn't even processed the impact when he realized Nobu's blade was already pressed firmly against his throat.
He couldn't move.
Renji's eyes widened.
He'd seen it. He'd seen everything—the motion of Nobu's arms, the arc of the deflection, the counter-strike that disarmed him. He'd seen all of it, clearly.
But he couldn't respond.
Only now, replaying it in his head, did the realization dawn—how terrifying that was.
One move.
He'd lost in a single, clean strike.
Nobu lowered his sword and smiled. "Thanks for the match."
Only then did the crowd erupt.
Everyone had been locked in concentration. They'd seen Nobu's attack clearly—it wasn't fast, not by Shinigami standards. But it had gone exactly where it needed to.
Direct hit.
"That was… so fast…" Isane murmured in awe. She had expected Nobu to win, but not like this. Renji had been so dominant in the match before, yet he'd lost so thoroughly now.
Unohana's eyes sparkled slightly, lips curving in the faintest of smiles.
"He's really something," Isane murmured.
"He's far more than you think," Unohana replied—rarely so direct.
"Eh?"
Unohana explained softly, "He's stronger than that red-haired boy in every category. But he didn't rely on physical strength or raw spiritual pressure. He won purely through swordsmanship. That one strike…"
…was the distillation of his entire blade style.
This boy—so young, and already…
Nobu returned the wooden sword and stepped down from the platform.
"Wait," Renji called, voice tinged with emotion. "Can we go again?"
He wasn't being a sore loser. Nobu was an upperclassman, a genius, someone whose skills were well known. Losing wasn't shameful.
But that strike—so cleanly exploiting his opening—had revealed a weakness in Renji's kendo he'd never noticed before.
He wanted to challenge him again.
He needed to.
"I'm afraid," Nobu said with a small smile, "that if you didn't see it the first time, it'll be the same every time."
Just then, a first-year stepped forward with a prize. "Congratulations, senpai! You won, so we prepared—"
"No need. Save it for the next challenger," Nobu said with a wave.
Renji watched him go, fists clenched.
Next year. I'll get into the student council, no matter what!
Nobu descended from the platform, brushing off the stares from the crowd, and returned to Unohana's side.
"Captain Unohana—I won."
"Well done. Shall we keep walking?"
Though she still smiled, her tone was calm—almost indifferent. She didn't lavish him with praise.
[Unohana Retsu]
[Affection: 2]