Mohit sat up slowly, the stiff crackle of bandages brushing against sheets. His body still ached — not from wounds, but from memories. The cold edge of his own blade piercing his chest. The scream. The spiders. The sacrifice.
He blinked behind the blindfold, his senses adjusting to the silence.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He heard soft footsteps — calm, methodical. Only one person walked like that in all of Seireitei.Unohana Retsu.She approached his bedside without a word, glancing briefly at the monitor charting his spiritual pressure. A stable rhythm. Normal now. Her hand gently pressed to his wrist.
Unohana (calmly):"Your pulse is steady. Spiritual flow has stabilized. You'll be cleared for discharge tomorrow."
She reached to the bedside tray and poured him a cup of water.
Unohana:"But before that… I have questions."Mohit accepted the cup without argument. He sipped. It tasted like iron and medicine.
She flipped open her small black leather notebook and gently placed her finger over the bandage covering his chest.
Unohana (still calm, but eyes sharp):"This scar. Right above your heart. Who gave it to you?"
Mohit (without hesitation):"I did."
Her pen stopped moving. A full second passed in silence.
Unohana (voice soft, but the air thick with tension):"…I see."
She moved her hand to the side, brushing across his ribs. Another scar. Jagged. Not as deep, but raw.Unohana:"And this one?"
Mohit (quietly):"A duel. With Urahara Kisuke. Squad 2, third seat."
Unohana's eyes narrowed just slightly. The weight of her experience sat heavy in the room.Unohana:"Urahara. Of course."
She scribbled notes, then stopped again. Her eyes scanned the half-faded wound, the strange tissue, the spider-like pattern on the skin. Her voice took on a colder tone.Unohana:"The healing… it wasn't done by any known kido technique. Not even Squad 4's most advanced spells would leave such organic reconstruction. Explain."
Mohit (nodding slowly):"It's… my shikai. Or rather, what it's become. It regenerates my wounds mid-battle, but… I've barely scratched the surface of controlling it."
Unohana (murmuring) "Fascinating. Organic regeneration through the zanpakutō's will… or is it your own?"Mohit didn't answer. Because he didn't know.
Unohana flipped the page in her book. She read something silently, her expression hardening just slightly.
Unohana:"And now… the final issue."
She closed the book with a sharp snap.
Unohana (steely):"Your zanpakutō was sent to Squad 12 for analysis. Standard post-recovery evaluation. And they confirmed what we suspected."
Her eyes locked with his.
Unohana:"You used the Tenshintai. The forbidden method. The ritual meant to force out your zanpakutō spirit by stabbing it into a doll—knowing full well that it could kill you."
Mohit (quietly):"Yes." "Unohana Taichō… will you report this to Central 46?"
For a moment, she just stood there in silence, her expression unreadable. Then, in her steady voice, she replied:
Unohana:"It's not my decision. That is for your captain to decide."
Just then, the door slid open.Three powerful spiritual pressures filled the room, even though all were held back politely. Shunsui Kyōraku, with his usual laid-back smile and pink haori, stepped in first. Behind him came Arthur and Shinji, both captains now—but forever his old academy brothers.
Shunsui (grinning):"Well, well. Look at you—just woke up and already have three captains standing in front of you. You trying to become the most popular patient in Squad 4 or what, Mohit?"
Arthur (smirking, arms crossed):"Don't be rude, Captain Shunsui. Me and shinji here as his school friends, after all."
Shinji (grinning wide):"Yeah, not like we could leave this idiot alone. He'd probably try to rip his bandages off and train again."
Mohit chuckled weakly, voice dry but steady.Mohit:"Well, if it isn't the 9th Kenpachi… and Trickster's fucker. Glad you two didn't die somewhere stupid."
Shinji (mocking):"Still got that sharp tongue, huh? Honestly, I still wish you'd sliced that mouth of yours instead of your eyes that day."
The mood dipped for a second—just a second—before Shunsui stepped closer, hands tucked into his sleeves.
Shunsui (serious now):"So… you gonna tell us why you pulled something this reckless? Tenshintai? Then a duel with Urahara? You really trying to kill yourself?"
Mohit (quietly):"I wanted Bankai. I wanted to be ready. I didn't want to be rejected in the next captain's test."
Arthur (brows furrowed, voice rising):"Are you out of your mind?! You could've died, Mohit! What the hell is the point of Bankai if you're too dead to use it?!"
Mohit:"I'm… sorry."
There was silence for a beat.
Shinji (voice quieter, but heavy):"You know… I've heard that 'sorry' from you before. That day you took your own eyes. Sitting in the rain, bleeding like a broken doll. You said 'sorry' then too."
Mohit (almost a whisper):"I just… didn't want to be left behind."
Arthur:"Then stop leaving yourself behind, dumbass."
Shunsui sighed, stepping forward and placing a hand gently on Mohit's shoulder.Shunsui:"You've got good friends. And you've got us. If you want to rise, do it with us beside you. Not like this."
The early morning sun filtered through the thin paper walls of the infirmary. The scent of disinfectant still clung faintly to the air. Mohit stood at the entrance, dressed in his standard lieutenant uniform, bandages removed, eyes blindfolded as always—but his posture was stronger now.
Isane:"Lieutenant Mohit… you're officially discharged. But please, don't push yourself. Captain Unohana has left instructions that you're to report back here immediately if—"
Mohit (cutting her off with a light smile):"I'll be careful. Thank you, Isane-san
He turned and walked away, his cane tapping gently against the polished floor. As he stepped into the light, he whispered softly to himself:
Mohit:"No more half-measures. This time, I master you properly, Supaidāgoddo."
Three Months Later – Training Grounds Beneath Squad 8
The deep underground space had become something of a second home for Mohit. The walls were carved out by spiritual pressure, burn marks and silk threads littered every surface.A dull hum of energy echoed across the chamber as Mohit stood shirtless, his chest scar fully faded, the left arm—once lost—now indistinguishable from flesh. Dozens of glowing red eyes blinked from the shadows.
Mohit (commanding):"All of you—fan out. Cover the entire sector. I want a five-point net set up. Use silk, blend in with the reishi, trap me if you can."
In a split second, 700 spiders scattered across the room. Threads webbed across the pillars and walls in perfect precision.
With a breath, Mohit lifted his blade, and his reiatsu pulsed.
Mohit:"Shikai: honour the arcane , Supaidāgoddo."
His blade twisted, webbing from the hilt dripping down like molten silk. In moments, his connection to his spiders flared to life. He saw—not with his own eyes—but through hundreds of angles, every corner of the arena alive with vision.
Mohit (quietly, focused):"Visual sync stable. No lag. Coordination within three milliseconds. Now—test clone generation."
Fifteen clones surged from his back—spiders forming humanoid outlines, moving in a spiral formation around him. They leapt and darted across the arena, perfectly mimicking his posture, his stance, even his spiritual rhythm.
Then—his breathing hitched. A sharp burn pulsed from within.
Mohit:"Tch… regeneration test. Begin."
He drew a deep breath, slashed his own torso with his blade, and staggered—just for a second. The blood spilled out, but almost instantly, hundreds of spiders poured out, weaving into his flesh and closing the wound rapidly.
It wasn't painless. It wasn't easy. But it was working.
Mohit (panting, kneeling down):"Still takes too much reiatsu. Too slow mid-battle… need to automate the healing trigger."
Suddenly, a presence flickered behind him.
Yoruichi (arms folded):"Not bad. You've come far, Mohit."
Mohit (not turning around):"Still not enough. I need to be faster. Cleaner."
Yoruichi (stepping forward):"Fifteen clones, seven hundred spiders, regeneration mid-battle… you're already more deadly than half the captains out when they became captains
Mohit (smirking faintly):"Deadly isn't enough if I can't protect the people I care about."
Yoruichi (softly):"And yet… you still carry that scar. Not on your chest—but in how hard you push yourself."
Mohit (quietly):"It reminds me of the price I'm willing to pay. For Bankai. For strength."
The torches around them flickered. Mohit stood up again, steadier than before.
Mohit:"This is only the beginning."