Ethan woke before the sun rose—because the Division 4 barracks never truly slept. The walls hummed faintly with the soft, rhythmic movement of healers beginning their shift; footsteps padded down the hallway like muffled heartbeats.
He rolled out of his futon, splashed cold water onto his face, and tied his uniform sash a little tighter than usual. Today Unohana wanted to "test his limits."
Coming from her, that was terrifying.
He stepped into the corridor.
And almost collided with Isane.
"Oh! Ethan—you're up early!"
Her hair was still damp from a hurried wash, bangs clinging to her cheeks. She carried a stack of fresh linens taller than her torso.
"Captain Unohana said she wanted me," Ethan explained.
Isane blinked rapidly, then gave a sympathetic wince. "She… she doesn't usually take trainees on consecutive days. Or mornings. Or—well—ever, really."
"So I'm special?"
"So you should probably stretch your spiritual channels first," she said, whispering as if afraid walls might be listening. "You'll see why."
Ethan opened his mouth to ask—
—but Unohana appeared at the far end of the corridor.
Elegant. Silent.
Calm in all the ways a blade was calm before cutting.
"Good morning, Ethan."
Even her greetings carried weight.
Isane scrambled into a stiff bow. Ethan followed, though less dramatically.
Unohana raised a hand.
Her version of a smile warmed the hallway.
"Come," she said. "Our first patient is waiting."
She didn't wait for him to follow.
She simply moved, and the world moved with her.
---
The First Lesson — Spiritual Anatomy
They entered a small therapeutic chamber flooded with morning light. In the center sat an older shinigami with cracked skin around his torso—like someone had burned channels into him from the inside out.
Ethan sucked in a quiet breath.
"Severe reiatsu overflow?" he guessed.
Unohana's eyes flicked to him, almost pleased.
"Very good. This man attempted to force a shikai evolution."
The patient groaned. "I thought—maybe—if I pushed—"
Unohana rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Your zanpakutō reflects your heart. Forcing it only breaks you."
She gestured for Ethan to kneel on the opposite side.
"Feel the pattern of his spiritual flow."
Ethan placed two fingers just above the cracked skin.
He felt it immediately—wild, jagged, unstable pulses trying to escape through blocked channels. It was like listening to a heartbeat that wanted to explode.
Unohana leaned close beside him.
Her voice softened, so low only he could hear.
"Now relax your spirit. Let him feel your stability."
He did.
A wave of calming energy flowed outward from Ethan's fingers—like placing a warm stone in cold water.
The patient exhaled heavily, shoulders sagging.
Unohana smiled faintly.
"You have excellent control," she murmured. "Very rare. Most new healers overshoot or panic."
"It's easier for me to stabilize others than stabilize myself," Ethan admitted quietly.
Unohana's eyes lingered on him for a second longer than necessary.
"…Yes," she said. "I can see that."
Her tone was warm.
But something in her gaze was sharp.
---
The Second Lesson — Pressure
After the treatment, they moved deeper into the inner medical chambers—places only the most capable healers were allowed to work. Ethan's footsteps echoed against stone.
Unohana suddenly stopped.
"Ethan," she said softly. "Stand still."
He obeyed, though nerves prickled up his spine.
She turned to face him fully.
Her hands were folded neatly, her expression calm.
"I want to test your true capacity."
"Uh… Captain?"
She smiled. "Don't worry. You'll understand."
Ethan didn't have time to question it.
The air shifted.
Not violently. Not explosively.
Just… wrong.
Unohana allowed a fraction—barely a whisper—of her reiatsu to leak into the room.
And it was enough to make Ethan's knees buckle.
Cold sweat gathered instantly on his back. His heartbeat hammered. His vision blurred at the edges as reality bent under the weight of her spiritual presence.
She watched him not like a teacher, but like a surgeon inspecting a blade's sharpness.
"Good," she murmured. "Remain conscious."
Ethan clenched his teeth, grounding himself. He pulled his reiatsu in tight, compressing it, letting his stabilizing talent flare internally.
Unohana increased the pressure—just slightly.
The air trembled.
The light dimmed.
The walls groaned.
Ethan braced both palms against the floor, panting.
This is only a fraction of her power…?
She crouched in front of him, her voice gentle and disturbingly warm.
"Tell me, Ethan… why do you hide your strength so carefully?"
His pulse spiked.
She noticed.
Of course she noticed.
"I—I'm just trying to fit in," he said quickly. "I don't want to attract attention."
Unohana tilted her head, her braid sliding over her shoulder like a silk rope.
"People who fear attention are often those who have already gained too much of it… somewhere else."
His stomach dropped.
Then—
She let the pressure vanish.
All at once.
The air snapped back to normal. Ethan inhaled sharply, dizzy from the sudden release.
Unohana stood, all calm kindness once more.
"You did well," she said. "Better than most lieutenants could at your level."
"…That was a test?"
"A necessary one." She offered him a hand. "I wanted to see how you respond to fear."
Ethan didn't take her hand immediately.
Something in him whispered that touching her now felt too vulnerable.
So he stood on his own.
Unohana's smile deepened—almost amused.
"You're cautious," she said. "Good. Caution keeps you alive in this division."
---
The Third Lesson — And an Unexpected Guest
As they exited the chamber, Ethan's senses tingled.
Someone was approaching—fast.
Flash-step fast.
Then a familiar voice shouted:
"YOU!"
Ethan and Unohana both looked back as a very irritated Captain Soi Fon materialized five feet away, finger raised accusingly.
"You—Ethan." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "Why is your reiatsu reading inconsistent? It's fluctuating like a criminal hiding his identity."
Ethan blinked. "Good morning to you too."
Unohana sighed softly. "Soi Fon—"
"Don't 'Soi Fon' me!" she snapped. "You said he was harmless! Harmless people do NOT generate adaptive-pressure signatures!"
Ethan's stomach dropped. Adaptive what?
Unohana placed a calming hand on Soi Fon's shoulder.
"He is harmless unless threatened."
"Oh, that's so reassuring," Soi Fon muttered.
Then she stepped right into Ethan's personal space, eyes narrowed.
"If you cause trouble in Soul Society," she whispered, "I will know. And I will act."
Ethan stared calmly back. "If I cause trouble, you'll be the first to know. Probably because I'll be screaming in pain."
Unohana chuckled—warm and unexpected.
Soi Fon threw her hands up. "I'm surrounded by lunatics."
And flash-stepped away again.
---
End of Day — A Thread in the Air
By dusk, Ethan was exhausted.
More rounds.
More lessons.
More spiritual pressure balancing.
But as he finished his tasks, the Panel pulsed again:
[Host Integration: Division Four +16%]
[New Trait Unlocked: Spiritual Dampening Efficiency (Major)]
[Your ability to hide your reiatsu has doubled.]
Ethan inhaled shakily.
Useful.
Very useful.
But the next message froze him:
[Warning: Captain Unohana has taken interest in your restraint patterns.]
[Trajectory: 42% chance she investigates deeper.]
[Recommendation: Limit displays of unusual healing efficiency.]
Ethan looked up.
Unohana was watching him from across the hall.
Smiling softly.
And in her eyes… there was warmth.
But also curiosity.
And behind the curiosity—
a shadow that felt like an old predator awakening.
Ethan swallowed hard.
Tomorrow was going to be even worse.