The next day.
When Fujimiyagi Makoto arrived at the dojo, he spotted a familiar figure standing in the front courtyard from a distance.
Unohana Yachiru.
The woman who had once brutally impaled his body still wore her usual cold expression, a sword at her waist, standing at the entrance as if waiting for something.
Only when she caught sight of Fujimiya Makoto did a faint smile slowly creep onto Unohana's cold yet delicate face.
Yet, Makoto couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine.
Being impaled through the chest or bleeding out until unconsciousness were hardly experiences worth bragging about.
Even though he understood that this wicked woman was indiscriminate when it came to killing, Makoto still couldn't suppress the creeping dread in his heart.
"That spiritual pressure from yesterday—it was yours, wasn't it?"
As he approached, Unohana was the first to speak, her gaze gentle as it swept over every inch of the young man's body, her eyes brimming with something almost maternal.
"Yes, Unohana-sensei."
Makoto stiffened, responding formally.
Unohana's smile deepened, her expression growing increasingly amused, like a child eyeing a beloved toy—tinged with a faint, barely perceptible hunger.
"Impressive spiritual pressure."
"You've made considerable progress."
"..."
Makoto's expression grew even more tense.
He knew all too well that this woman's heart held no warmth—what she desired was certainly not love or affection.
But rather, the purest form of... killing intent.
To put it bluntly, Unohana's love for a person was directly proportional to her desire to kill them.
The way Unohana expressed love was by driving her blade as deep as possible into their heart.
"Is there anything else you need?"
Makoto took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain composed. "Genryūsai-sama has summoned me for a matter."
Unohana's smile grew even more benevolent. His stubbornness was quite endearing, too.
"Then let's go in together."
With that, she stepped past the courtyard threshold and headed toward the dojo.
As they brushed past each other, Makoto suddenly noticed that today, Unohana had undone the top two buttons of her white haori. The contrast between the black fabric of her inner clothing and the pure white outer robe made her ample "justice" all the more pronounced.
Makoto froze.
Was that on purpose... or an accident?
But before he could dwell on it, he hurried to follow her inside.
"We're here?"
When the two of them entered the dojo, they found it already crowded with people.
Ganryū Kinpaku, Shima Tomogiri, Shigyō no Takehisa, Kumade Entetsu, Unohana Yachiru...
Makoto's eyes swept over them one by one.
After spending this time at the Genji School, he could recognize most of them now.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni sat in the center as usual, gesturing to the surrounding instructors.
"Makoto, the action teams led by these instructors are all short on personnel at your level."
"Due to seniority, we can only grant you the provisional title of 'Assistant Instructor' for now. You'll be promoted to full instructor in a few years."
"Who would you like to work under?"
Makoto was taken aback for a moment before quickly asking, "Wait, Genryūsai-sama... what exactly is an 'action team'?"
"Ah, my oversight."
The old man patted his forehead and motioned to Chōjirō. "Chōjirō, explain it to him."
Chōjirō nodded slightly. "After we, the disciples and instructors of the Genji School, pass the examinations and receive our licenses and certifications, we are all required to participate in 'action duties.'"
"Under normal circumstances, this means exterminating Hollows that appear in various regions or suppressing rogue noble Shinigami from the Seireitei who cause trouble within Genji territory."
"Currently, there are thirteen standing action teams, each led by different instructors and assistant instructors."
So this is the prototype of the Gotei 13?
Makoto immediately understood.
Clearly, the well-structured organization of the original Gotei 13 couldn't have been formed overnight.
"What are the differences between the action teams?" Makoto probed further.
"Yep, yep!"
Shima Tomogiri, a somewhat hunched and listless young man sitting to the side, raised his hand enthusiastically.
"Our Fourth Team is the medical unit!"
"We usually don't have to go to the front lines—much easier than the others."
Makoto instantly relaxed, breaking into a smile.
"Then I'll—"
Unohana, who had been quietly observing until now, suddenly interrupted.
"This person is joining our Eleventh Team."
"If anyone has objections, you can take them up with me."
The room fell silent.
Unohana's smiling gaze swept over the crowd, lingering particularly on one individual.
Shima Tomogiri shuddered, then turned to Makoto with an apologetic expression.
"...But you don't know Kaidō, right? Then we can't take you. What a shame!"
He backed down with impressive speed.
Not that it was hard to understand why.
Though her appearance might not make it obvious, Unohana Yachiru was universally acknowledged by all the instructors of this generation as the strongest under Genryūsai.
The most notorious villain in Soul Society's history was no mere title.
Makoto was dumbfounded.
Then why did you even call me here?!
As if I had a choice in the first place!
"Ahem."
Old Man Yama, clearly noticing the situation, casually interjected on their behalf.
"Makoto, Unohana only joined midway as well."
Hearing this, the others all wore expressions of resignation.
They were short on capable subordinates too.
Unohana, however, smiled even more tenderly.
"Hey! Hey! Hey!"
Just as Makoto was about to resign himself to fate, an arrogant voice roared from outside the room.
With a whoosh, a purple figure burst in, shouting indignantly.
"Why wasn't I notified about picking this brat?!"
Everyone turned to look at Sōken Furafushi.
Great. Another one had arrived.
Sōken Furafushi flashed forward with Shunpo, covering dozens of meters in an instant before appearing right behind Makoto. Without any hesitation, she climbed onto his shoulders and loudly addressed the room.
"Hey, old man!"
"Don't you know this kid likes me the most?!"
Sōken Furafushi crossed her arms atop Makoto's head, using her bare feet to poke at his cheeks as she declared with absolute confidence:
"Look closely!"
"He's even got my tabi hanging from his scabbard!"
"Right?"
Makoto found the straw sandals uncomfortably rough against his face and sighed.
"Actually... I prefer bare feet."
As for the rumor that he was a pervert—well, he figured that ship had sailed.
"Huh?"
Sōken Furafushi blinked, muttering under her breath. "So picky..."
But surprisingly, she obediently took off her sandals.
Now, it was her soft, bare feet poking at his face instead.
[You've progressed further on the 'Path of Foot Art'!]
[Shunpo (Talent Limit): 'Tier 10' ↑]
[Wow! You've got good taste, kid!]
[I like bare feet too!]
Makoto stared blankly at the panel before him.
There's even a reward for this?!
Unohana's gaze toward him grew increasingly peculiar.
"What're you lookin' at? Wanna fight?!" Sōken Furafushi bared her teeth at her like a territorial cat.
Unohana ignored her entirely, focusing on Makoto with a faint smile.
"You know which team you should choose, don't you?"
"Weaklings like her... could never satisfy you."
Hearing this, Makoto suddenly realized something, his eyes lighting up.
Right.
If he was going to fight either way, shouldn't he pick the easier opponent?
"No!"
He bowed deeply, firmly refusing. "I choose Instructor Sōken's action team!"
"My apologies, Instructor Unohana!"
"That's more like it!"
Sōken Furafushi, still perched on his shoulders, grinned triumphantly.
Unohana, however, frowned slightly.
But before she could say anything else, a petulant, complaining voice suddenly rang out from Makoto's waist, chattering away without restraint.
[Of course you pick the weaker one!]
[Duh, idiot~]
[Only by getting strong enough can you make her cry 'eek eek' under your blows!]
[Getting one-sidedly crushed is just too sad.]
[But honestly, though Furafushi-chan's little white feet are nice too, Unohana-mama's 'justice' is obviously the best!]
[Please, Unohana-mama! Let me bury my face in them!!]
[Furafushi-chan just can't satisfy me!]
Instantly, Sōken's cheerful expression...
Froze.
Her smile slowly migrated onto Unohana's face.
Makoto broke out in a cold sweat.
The others in the room all struggled to hold back their laughter.
Damn, 'Unohana-mama'?
This kid just keeps getting more outrageous!
What the hell?!
---
Takatori Hatsuō hurried toward the dojo. Genryūsai-sama had summoned her for something, but she'd lost track of time reading and was now late.
But just as she reached the front courtyard—
A furious roar erupted from inside, followed by a violent pillar of spiritual pressure shooting into the sky.
"PREPARE TO DIE, YOU BRAT!"