Darkness.
A pulse.
A heartbeat.
A distant ringing sound, like metal struck underwater.
Ethan's consciousness clawed back inch by painful inch, muscles tensing with soreness he didn't remember earning.
Then—
"You may open your eyes now."
Unohana's voice.
Soft.
Gentle.
Terrifying.
Ethan jolted awake.
His whole body spasmed in shock — his heart hammered, his lungs burned, and every muscle felt like he'd been beaten with a steel rod.
Which, knowing Unohana, wasn't entirely metaphorical.
He gasped, clutching his abdomen.
"I— I'm… back."
Unohana tilted her head, smiling that kind, serene smile.
"Yes. You returned."
Her tone made it sound like he was the one who inconvenienced her by finally waking up.
Ethan pushed himself upright with trembling arms.
"…How long was I out?"
"Two minutes."
She said it casually while re-tying her braid.
Ethan stopped.
Two minutes?
That inner world felt like hours.
Unohana observed his expression with amusement.
"Inner world time rarely matches ours."
He swallowed hard, remembering the spirits.
"No kidding…"
Unohana leaned closer, her shadow falling over him.
"Well?"
"Well… what?"
"What did you see?"
Her eyes gleamed—not with curiosity. With analysis.
She wanted data.
Results.
Progress.
Ethan hesitated.
He thought of:
Yoru-no-Hikari's gentle voice.
Akahana's taunting grin.
The silent figure's oppressive, unmoving gaze.
"…I saw my Zanpakutō spirit."
Unohana arched an eyebrow.
"Spirit? Singular?"
Ethan froze.
Her smile deepened — just slightly.
Ah.
She knew.
Of course she knew.
"I… saw multiple."
"Good," Unohana said, as if she'd expected nothing less.
"Then your Zanpakutō is more unruly than we anticipated."
"Unruly is a word for it," Ethan muttered.
Unohana crouched beside him.
Her fingers touched his chin, tilting his head upward like she was inspecting a patient on an autopsy table.
Her tone dropped into something lower.
Smoother.
"Ethan."
"Yes?"
"You are trembling."
"I— uh— yeah— inner world stuff was— intense—"
Unohana interrupted gently:
"No. You are trembling because you fear the truth inside you."
He stiffened.
She saw everything.
Everything.
Unohana's hand moved from his chin to the side of his neck, feeling his pulse.
"Three spirits already awake…"
Her voice was soft, but her pressure increased.
"…and one of them refused to meet you?"
Ethan froze.
She knew that too?
"How—?"
Unohana's smile widened as her spiritual pressure wrapped around him like a tightening noose.
"Because you are afraid of something.
Something deep.
Something in your roots."
Her eyes flashed with murderous warmth.
"And fear is the first thing I must cut out of you."
Ethan's heart lurched.
"Wait— what?! Cut out—? As in—"
Unohana stood.
Then she unsheathed her Zanpakutō with a slow, graceful motion.
Not threatening.
Not hurried.
Just certain.
"Stand."
Ethan didn't.
His legs were still jelly.
Unohana sighed gently.
She stabbed the ground beside his knee.
"I said stand."
Her spiritual pressure hit him like a tidal wave.
Ethan staggered to his feet even as pain screamed through every bone.
Unohana flicked her blade once.
"Your spirits will lend you strength if you call them."
Ethan swallowed.
"Call… them?"
"Yes."
She smiled sweetly.
"Or die here."
He felt the familiar pressure building in his chest — the connection to Yoru-no-Hikari and Akahana.
A faint warmth first, then strength seeping into his arms and legs.
Unohana watched with clinical interest.
"Good. Again."
She vanished.
Ethan barely ducked in time — her blade sliced a clean line across his cheek.
Warm blood trickled down.
He exhaled shakily.
"Okay… okay… let's do this—"
But Unohana cut him off, appearing behind him.
"No speaking."
She swung.
Ethan rolled, the floor exploding where he'd just been.
Unohana followed mercilessly — elegant, fluid, impossibly fast.
Every strike was precise enough to kill him.
Every miss was intentional.
Finally, after minutes of barely surviving, Ethan's lungs burned.
Unohana halted, watching him with calm, disappointed eyes.
"That is all?"
Ethan's head snapped up.
"What—? I'm trying—"
"No."
Her tone was cold enough to freeze steel.
"You are thinking.
You are analyzing.
You are strategizing."
She stepped forward.
"But you are not letting them in."
Her blade lifted to his chest — stopping just at his sternum.
A touch.
A warning.
"You still fear them."
Ethan's breathing hitched.
He thought of the silent spirit.
"…One of them scares me."
Unohana's smile turned darkly delighted.
"Then I will beat you until she does not."
Ethan's eyes widened.
Before he could protest—
Unohana released her full killing intent.
Ethan collapsed to his knees, gasping as pressure crushed his ribs.
Unohana knelt to meet him at eye level.
Her voice was a whisper of honeyed death:
"Fear does not matter."
"Pain does not matter."
"Confusion does not matter."
She cupped his cheek gently.
"Strength is the only thing that matters."
She pulled her hand away.
"And you, Ethan… will become strong enough to meet her."
He looked up at her, sweat and blood dripping.
"…Even if she kills me?"
Unohana's smile was soft.
Warm.
Terrifying.
"If she kills you, I will bring you back."
"And then we will try again."
Ethan swallowed.
Hard.
Unohana stood, raising her blade.
"Now… continue."
Ethan clenched his fists.
Inside him, two voices stirred:
Akahana: "Up, dumbass. She's not killing you yet."
Yoru-no-Hikari: "We are with you. Breathe."
He inhaled.
And stood.
Unohana's smile sharpened.
"Good. Training resumes."