Shin had expected to be locked up for a few days at least. So when the summons from the Captain-Commander came so soon, he was more than a little surprised.
He wondered how Unohana was doing...
She was probably still alive. If she'd died, his punishment wouldn't have stopped at mere detention.
"Tachikawa Shin. Do you feel any remorse for your actions?"
Faced with Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's stern questioning, Shin bowed his head respectfully.
"I disobeyed your orders, sir, and that was indeed my fault. But the sparring match with my captain… I believe it was a good thing."
There it was again.
Yamamoto's brow twitched, though he'd expected this much. After everything that had happened, he'd braced himself emotionally. The fury that had burned earlier had cooled to embers.
"So what you're saying… is that I gave the wrong order, and you've done Soul Society a service?"
Shin could hear the wrath and scorn beneath the Captain-Commander's voice, but he continued calmly.
"Sir, you understand our captain far better than I do. And yet here I stand—alive. Isn't that a good thing?"
Yamamoto stared at him expressionlessly, reading between the lines. He remembered when he'd told Shin not to engage Unohana—it was "for her own good." And that he was "confident" in her restraint.
Shin spoke again.
"When someone lives too long suppressing what they truly are, their heart will inevitably twist. Captain-Commander, you may call that restraint, but is that really healthy? If those twisted thoughts finally erupt, it'll be far too late."
"You presume to lecture me?"
Yamamoto's voice was terrifying in its composure. No reiatsu leaked from him, yet Shin felt a crushing pressure worse than anything he'd experienced beneath Sōkyoku Hill.
Not even his Zanpakutō could resist this.
His heart skipped a beat. But even now, he didn't flinch.
"Sir, I may lack your centuries of wisdom. Perhaps my understanding of right and wrong is simplistic. But I am who I am. No speech from you will rewrite what I believe. If that means I'm obstinate, arrogant, then so be it. I sparred with Captain Unohana because I believed it would help her become someone greater—for the benefit of the Gotei 13, of Seireitei, of the Soul Society."
"You placed her as the 4th Division Captain—but she doesn't belong anywhere in the Gotei. Isn't that the real tragedy? If she ever broke under the weight and turned against Soul Society, would it be only her fault? You never guided her. You only caged her like a tool—"
"Enough!"
Yamamoto's spiritual pressure erupted with a roar.
Boom!
The doors slammed open. Soi Fon burst into the room, clearly intending to subdue Shin.
But the Captain-Commander's voice sliced through the air like a blade dipped in ice.
"Who let you in?!"
Soi Fon froze. She'd come to prevent Shin from speaking further disrespect, but the response was not what she expected.
The room's scorching reiatsu swept over her like a storm. Cold sweat pouring, she dropped to one knee, bowed deeply, and then quietly left the room.
Outside, Sasakibe stood with a conflicted look. He hadn't stopped Soi Fon—but neither had he helped.
He'd served beside Yamamoto longer than anyone. No one knew the man's temper better.
Now, Yamamoto unleashed it.
"You think I made her that way? Do you know what she did a thousand years ago? The lives she took? The crimes she committed?!"
Shin answered calmly.
"If that's how you saw her all this time—still an unforgivable sinner—why let her remain as the 4th Division Captain? Soul Society has laws. Why allow someone like her to hold that position for so long?"
The Captain-Commander's blood boiled.
"You want her to repent. To feel shame. And yet you lock her in a place she despises, offer no guidance, and then blame her for staying the same? You demand gratitude for her suffering and use that to mock her?!"
Shin looked him in the eyes.
"You should have just killed her."
"…"
Compared to Yamamoto's accusations, Shin's counter was even more cutting.
For a long moment, the old man said nothing.
Then he let out a cold chuckle.
"You say you're rigid, but your words—your actions—they reek of cunning. You hide behind justice and righteousness, hoping I'll go easy on you?"
Shin asked quietly:
"Then why, sir, did I do this?"
That question cut deeper than the rest.
"If I'm truly the kind of schemer you think I am… wouldn't I know exactly what defying you would cost me?"
Yet he'd chosen this path anyway.
That was what Yamamoto was trying to understand. And the answer, as Shin said, seemed painfully clear.
"I've been a Shinigami for only two years. I spent six in the Academy. I'm barely in my twenties. Twenty years—how trivial that must seem to you. But in the human world, people reach enlightenment in sixty or seventy. Here, even a hundred isn't considered old. Does long life erase our humanity? Are we all just pawns to you—short-sighted, naive, foolish little things? Is our worth simply to follow orders until we die?"
Yamamoto said nothing. He stood there for a long, long time.
Finally, the oppressive reiatsu lifted.
Sasakibe entered the room again.
"Take him back. Continue detainment," Yamamoto said quietly.
Sasakibe bowed. Then he motioned to Soi Fon waiting outside. She personally escorted Shin back to the 2nd Division's holding cells.
Only once she was gone did Yamamoto sigh heavily.
"…Even Shunsui doesn't speak to me that boldly."
Of all his captains, Kyōraku Shunsui had always treated him most casually. But even that casualness came with a boundary—a respect not to be crossed.
Shin… was different.
Perhaps it was youth. Or something else.
"He might be a good kid," Yamamoto muttered. "Or a terrible one."
Sasakibe said, "But he's still just a kid."
Yamamoto shook his head. "I fear I've misjudged him."
Sasakibe understood his worry. "If we trust and invest in him, two things can happen—he lives up to it… or he doesn't. But if we discard him now, you'll regret it forever."
"You think I haven't seen prodigies before?" Yamamoto asked, eyes narrowed.
He'd led for a thousand years. Gin, Kaien… even they hadn't impressed him much.
He'd seen many like them.
Sasakibe replied softly: "But none of them compare to Tachikawa."
"…"
Yamamoto fell silent again.
Yes. None of them compared to Tachikawa Shin.
Only Zaraki came close in talent—and even he couldn't be called reassuring.
Was this a flaw shared by all true monsters of talent?
No one is perfect.
Yamamoto parted his lips, as if to speak—but the words never came.
Perfection… what did it mean, really?
He thought again of the words Shin had spoken.
"…What do you think should be done with him?" he asked Sasakibe.
"My answer is the same as yours," came the soft reply.
Yamamoto let out a scoff. Then a long sigh.
The next day, 4th Division barracks.
Sasakibe arrived with several squad members to deliver Yamamoto's judgment to Unohana.
"Captain Unohana is to be confined to Seireitei for ten years. She will wear a Binding Seal Collar during this time, and be monitored. In cases of patients requiring her direct care, a request can be submitted to temporarily remove the collar."
The Binding Seal Collar was a device developed by the Department of Research and Development. It suppressed up to 99% of the wearer's reiatsu—stronger than a limit seal, and mandatory.
For someone like Unohana, though, it wouldn't fully suppress her.
She allowed two squad members to affix the seal to her limbs without resistance. The devices were concealed beneath her uniform, invisible to the naked eye.
Sasakibe finished his duty and turned to leave.
Isane caught up with him.
"Vice-Captain Sasakibe—how's Shin?"
Sasakibe hesitated, seeing the worry on her face. After a pause, he answered:
"He's fine."
Isane stood at the hallway's corner, gripping her sleeves. Watching Sasakibe disappear, she turned and found her captain sitting quietly, unchanged.
She finally couldn't hold it in.
"Captain!"
Her voice was sharper than it had ever been in front of Unohana.
"Isane."
Unohana's face was serene as always.
"Captain, aren't you going to tell me anything?" Isane demanded.
Unohana glanced at her. "You must've guessed. My past isn't hidden. Anyone who wants to know can find it."
"That doesn't matter!" Isane cried. "That's all behind you! My captain is—"
"That's the captain in your mind," Unohana interrupted. "You've been worshipping a fiction. An illusion."
Isane froze. "Then what was all my devotion for?"
"Ask yourself," Unohana replied. "You followed a version of me that never existed. Now you're angry I'm not what you imagined. You want me to change into your ideal."
Isane panicked. "That's not what I meant…"
Her voice faltered.
"I just… you were always so kind. Was that a lie too?"
"It was."
Isane collapsed to the floor.
As she sat in silence, Unohana spoke again.
"During our battle… every blow he struck held back."
"He had no intent to kill me. Even the thrust through my heart could have destroyed it—but he held back."
"In truth… he never wanted to fight me at all. He forced himself to do it. That wasn't real battle."
"It was… boring."
She looked out the window. Cherry blossoms scattered on the breeze, soft pink drifting onto her sleeve.
Her pale fingers brushed the scar at her collarbone.
She had just tasted the joy she'd longed for—a true battle—but the feeling had faded when Shin sealed her wound.
Now she felt more nauseated than ever before.
"I suppose… I shouldn't have survived."
She whispered it to no one.
Then turned to Isane.
"Tachikawa… will be fine."