At the Shiba Household.
As Kyōraku Shimo approached the unusually structured building, he suddenly heard a hearty laugh from within.
"HAHAHA!
Of course I don't mind!"
"By the way, that kid nad Shimo—isn't he supposed to be coming today?"
No sooner had the words left her mouth than the large front gate burst open. A striking woman stepped out.
She had long black hair tied beneath a pale headscarf, a crisp and confident smile on her refined face. Tattooed in bold black ink on her left arm was the character "空" (Kū, aning "Sky").
There was no mistaking her identity—
Shiba Kūkaku.
"You are…?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "That face looks so familiar."
"Even though I'm pretty sure I've never seen you before."
She began circling Shimo, carefully inspecting him up and down. Then, as if struck by sudden realization, she clapped her right fist into her left palm and exclaid:
"You must be my fiancé—Kyōraku Shimo, right?!"
Shimo was utterly speechless.
He knew that Kūkaku was bold, fiery, and had a larger-than-life personality—but this level of enthusiasm? Wasn't it a bit much?
As for how she recognized him—when Shiba Isshin had left the Kyōraku estate, he'd asked Kyōraku Shunsui for a photo of Shimo. Unfortunately, Shimo disliked taking pictures, so all they had was an old childhood photo.
That's why Kūkaku found him familiar but couldn't place him imdiately.
"Ha! You turned out way better-looking than your childhood picture."
Kūkaku, completely at ease, grabbed Shimo by the arm and dragged him toward the house.
"Captain Kyōraku, you co too!"
Halfway to the main building, she suddenly rembered there was soone else—Kyōraku Shunsui—trailing behind.
This straightforward, unabashed attitude of hers… was oddly charming.
Maybe this was one of those cases where "her worldview is shaped by her personality."
---
Unlike other noble households, the Shiba residence was devoid of lavish ornants or excessive grandeur.
Instead, it reflected a stark, minimalist aesthetic. Apart from the family crest displayed proudly on the walls, there was little to suggest the Shiba Clan's noble origins.
"Big Brother!"
Even before reaching the main hall, Kūkaku was already calling out.
"The Kyōraku heir is here!"
No sooner had her voice landed than Shiba Kaien rushed out from inside.
"Captain Kyōraku, Shimo-kun!"
He wore his usual bright, infectious smile—sunny enough to lift anyone's mood.
Kaien seed to have already shaken off the shadows of his past.
"Kaien-kun," Shimo responded with equal respect.
Respect, after all, was sothing mutual.
"Where's Isshin?" asked Shunsui.
Kaien offered a sheepish grin.
"Uncle went out to pick up so premium spirit liquor—figured we'd need it for today."
Unlike the other noble clans, the Shibas truly had no sense of aristocratic stiffness.
The four of them gathered around the scarlet wooden table and sat down casually.
Shiba Kaien and Captain Kyōraku soon fell into easy conversation—exchanging lighthearted squad gossip, but also diving into deeper topics, including hidden matters among the noble houses.
Shimo, on the other hand, found himself sitting directly across from Shiba Kūkaku… locked in a rather intense staring contest.
Every now and then, her gaze would drift downward slightly—but Kūkaku didn't seem the least bit embarrassed by it.
Soon, Shiba Isshin returned, carrying bottles of exclusive Soul Society Liquor.
Though not quite as rare as the Kuchiki Clan's private sake, it was still a high-end luxury in the Rukongai.
"See? I wasn't lying, was I, Shimo?"
Isshin flopped down beside Shimo without hesitation, bumping him playfully with a shoulder.
"So? What do you think of my daughter?"
Kūkaku casually tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile radiant as she looked at Shimo.
Shimo thought for a mont before replying seriously:
"As a man, this kind of offer is hard to refuse… but I'd rather respect Miss Kūkaku's own wishes."
"Besides… I'm sure you're aware of what's going on with Kuchiki Rukia."
Even in the face of temptation, Shimo chose honesty.
It wasn't that he wasn't interested—he simply didn't want to make choices that disregarded others' feelings.
After all, it's like admiring a flower in a garden—you can appreciate it, but ripping it out just for your own viewing pleasure? That's not right.
It's a simple truth—but one that few people can actually live by.
Shimo was glad he could.
But Isshin's reaction was far from angry.
"Haha! I already talked this over with Kūkaku."
"We'd never force one of our own to marry soone they didn't like."
"Whatever happens—it's up to you two young people to figure it out."
Shimo turned toward Kūkaku—only to find her still gazing at him, but this ti, her expression had changed.
With a calm smile, she said:
"I'm glad you were honest, especially with soone you've just t."
"As for the marriage arrangent… maybe we can try building sothing from scratch?"
Her last words trailed off as a question.
"…And how exactly would we do that?" Shimo asked, puzzled.
"Yesterday," Isshin said, "Captain Kyōraku and I submitted a transfer request to Captain Unohana—"
"Requesting to place Kūkaku into the Fourth Division."
"If everything goes smoothly," added Shunsui, "she'll beco a mber of your squad."
Shimo imdiately broke into a cold sweat.
"…And Captain Unohana didn't kill you for that?"
Shunsui raised a brow. "What kind of question is that?"
"Am I not the Eighth Division's Captain? I've got so clout, you know."
"Captain Unohana may have a past… but she's llowed out a lot."
"Don't worry—she'll accept her."
Isshin nodded.
"Kūkaku's skill in Kidō is excellent—honestly, even better than Kaien's."
Kaien scratched his head sheepishly.
"She's got real talent, I can't deny it."
Shimo sighed.
They were missing the entire point.
He had a bad feeling the Fourth Division was about to beco an absolute battlefield.
Hopefully, he'd survive whatever chaos was coming.
---
Later — Fourth Division Barracks.
"…Captain Unohana, this is—uh…"
Shimo hesitated, unsure how to introduce the woman beside him.
After leaving the Shiba estate, Kūkaku had followed along to the Seireitei.
Given the indefinite nature of soul longevity, their families weren't rushing anything. For now, as Kūkaku had said—they'd take their ti and see how things developed.
So Shimo had brought her directly to the Fourth Division.
"Fiancé!"
Kūkaku declared without hesitation.
She didn't dislike Shimo—on the contrary, his sincerity and principles had won her over.
He had saved Kaien's life through tily information.
And he had respected her freedom to choose.
Even if she didn't say it aloud, in her heart, Kūkaku had already accepted him.
Unohana Retsu's ever-calm face lifted into a faint smile.
Yet in the warm atmosphere of the captain's office… the temperature sohow dropped.
"A mber of the Shiba Clan?" she asked, still smiling.
"I assu you're the one Captain Kyōraku and Captain Shiba ntioned in their recomndation letters?"
Kūkaku's instincts flared.
Things… didn't seem as simple as she had imagined.
This woman—Captain of the Fourth Division, and once the original Kenpachi, held a strange and unreadable hostility in her eyes.
And given her own clan's secret records, Kūkaku knew full well what that history ant.
"…Yes, that's ."
Without warning, she grabbed Shimo's arm and pulled it close to her chest—declaring her "ownership" with exaggerated pride.
Shimo scratched his nose, staying perfectly still like a log.
The softness pressed against his arm was very noticeable, but under Unohana's increasingly ominous gaze…
Being a lifeless log was definitely the best option.
Still… it did feel kind of nice.
Unohana continued with a polite smile.
"Despite your dual recomndation, all new recruits start at the very bottom."
"Beginning tomorrow, report to the general dical ward and help with daily tasks."
Kūkaku blinked.
"…Wait, what kind of rule is that?"
"Aren't new mbers supposed to choose between the entrance exam or a challenge match for a seated position?"
Unohana tilted her head, still smiling.
"I am the captain of the Fourth Division. I set the rules."
"But if you insist on the challenge option, I'd be happy to conduct the test myself."
Kūkaku inhaled sharply.
"…On second thought, starting from the bottom sounds perfectly nice."
Faced with life or death, she chose life.
A combat test judged by the first Kenpachi?
No thank you.
Especially since this supposedly gentle woman was clearly gunning for her.
And the reason?
Undoubtedly related to the man currently standing beside her.
"…Why is Shimo so popular anyway?" she muttered under her breath.
Unohana, still smiling, nodded.
"Good. Just go see Isane—she'll handle your registration and task assignnts."
Then she turned to Shimo.
"Shimo-kun, it's been a while since we sparred, hasn't it?"
"I've finished my paperwork for the day. Shall we head to Training Ground No. 4?"
Kūkaku's grip on his arm instinctively tightened.
"Why the training ground…?"
Shimo sighed.
"Hana-ne, could you at least finish the last stroke of your signature before declaring a spar?"
"…Also, didn't we just spar yesterday?"
Unohana didn't answer. Her smile remained unchanged. So did her expression.
But the room's temperature plumted several degrees.
---
Fourth Division — Training Ground No. 4.
The dojo-like facility lood in front of them.
Under Kūkaku's firm insistence, Shimo had brought her along.
Inside, Shimo and Unohana each grabbed a wooden sword from the racks.
Given the risk of destroying everything if they used their Zanpakutōs, they always used wooden swords when sparring.
But today, Unohana was different.
Her deanor calm as ever—but her presence, charged with deadly aura, radiated beauty and danger.
"Shimo-kun," she said sweetly.
"Like always, give it everything you've got."
A bead of cold sweat trickled down his temple.
So this… is Unohana in "black-belly" mode?
Every word she spoke carried layers of hidden threat—so complex it would leave even a seasoned flirt speechless.
"I'll start."
She raised her sword and vanished on the spot.
Clang!
Instead of dull wooden thuds, their blades clashed with the ring of steel.
As Unohana's strikes grew faster, the very air cracked with sound.
Shimo's own swordplay exploded in intensity, his strikes coming like a storm.
No spiritual pressure.
Just pure sword techniques—so sharp, Kūkaku didn't dare get close.
She stared, stunned.
"…Shimo's really this strong?"
"Why has big brother never ntioned this?!"
The limitless path of swordsmanship—
Shimo's sword burst with rising energy, his strikes reaching a new level.
Flash Blossom—
a technique combining specialized shunpo and precision strikes.
CRACK!
A sharp snap echoed through the dojo.
The wooden swords clashed—and broke.
The spar was over.
------------------------///
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