Bleach: After Retiring From Zero Division, Aizen Came To Study

Unohana Retsu was not someone adept at expressing her inner thoughts. To be precise, she struggled to voice her emotions.

Once upon a time, she had been a ruthless killer, driven by a love of battle. Back then, she never cared what others thought—as long as she could cut them down. Victory was her only concern, and she would do anything to achieve it.

But those days had passed.

When she laid down her blade, moved from the 11th Division to the 4th Division, and transitioned from a destroyer to a healer, many things about her changed. But one thing remained: her inability to share her true feelings.

When something bothered her, she buried it in her heart. Even when a young Shinigami acted out of line, she didn't scold them outright. Instead, she would simply fix them with a piercing gaze, letting her authority as a senior do the talking.

When Arima returned from the Zero Division, Unohana should have been happy to see her old friend. But his formality, calling her Captain Unohana, unsettled her.

The warmth they once shared had faded, replaced by unfamiliarity.

Unohana Retsu felt conflicted. She wanted to repair their bond, to restore their friendship to what it had been long ago. But after hundreds of years apart, such a task was daunting.

Moreover, she had grown used to solitude. For years, she had remained in the quiet halls of the 4th Division, far removed from most of her peers. Approaching Arima directly wasn't easy.

And so, since Arima's return, their interactions had been sparse.

The distance was compounded by the fact that Arima was no longer a Shinigami of the Gotei 13. He had become something else entirely.

If he hadn't come to her, she wouldn't have sought him out at the Spiritual Arts Academy either.

But tonight, under the influence of wine, the walls around Unohana's heart began to crumble.

When Arima addressed her as Yachriu—as he used to—her emotions surged, a mix of nostalgia and sadness washing over her.

Arima noticed the change in her expression and remarked, "It seems you've changed a lot over the years."

His tone was subtle, but his words carried weight.

In his youth, Arima had been far livelier than he was now. Though he had his grievances about being thrust into the world of Shinigami centuries before the events he knew, he quickly adapted.

Unohana, however, was different. For him, she had always been a figure of intrigue.

Knowing what her future held, Arima had felt an innate sense of connection to her. He often sought her out, requesting lessons in swordsmanship. Part of it was to grow stronger, but another part was an attempt to change her—a foolish, youthful hope that he could alter her path.

As time went on and he rose to the rank of captain, his bond with Unohana deepened. He even managed to convince her to let him call her by her first name.

For a while, he entertained the idea of pursuing her romantically. After all, Unohana was the epitome of classical beauty—a mature, graceful woman with a commanding presence.

But she had no interest in such matters.

The only thing Unohana desired was battle—pure, unrelenting combat.

Arima could fight her, even challenge her, but he could never give her what she truly wanted: to die on the battlefield.

Her ultimate wish was to live and die by the sword.

Arima, despite his strength, couldn't bring himself to fulfill that desire.

In the end, his feelings for her remained unspoken, tucked away as a bittersweet regret. He turned his focus to scientific research, revolutionizing Soul Society with the development of Reishi technology.

His innovations caught the attention of the Royal Guard, and he accepted their invitation to join the Zero Division.

When he returned to Seireitei, centuries had passed. The Soul Society was almost unrecognizable. Familiar faces were few, and even those felt distant.

For both Arima and Unohana, the feeling of estrangement was mutual.

As Unohana broke the silence, her voice was low and reflective. "Yes, I've changed. Some things… you only realize their worth once they're gone."

Her gaze, softened by the haze of alcohol, rested on Arima's face.

Arima remained silent, meeting her eyes. For a moment, he thought he could glimpse the truest parts of her heart—the vulnerability she rarely showed.

Then Unohana spoke again. "It's late, and you've had too much to drink. Stay here tonight."

Her tone brooked no argument, and Arima knew better than to refuse.

He smirked to himself, finding her words amusing. *Too drunk? Me? You're clearly the one who's overindulged.*

Still, he didn't protest.

Outside, the moon bathed the courtyard in silver light, illuminating the flowers Unohana loved so much. The scene was serene, almost magical.

Inside, the atmosphere was more charged. The glow of the lanterns cast warm shadows across Unohana's face, her cheeks flushed from the wine. The faint scent of flowers mixed with the aroma of alcohol, creating an intimate air.

The night passed in quiet companionship.

The next morning, Arima left the 4th Division without a word.

Neither he nor Unohana mentioned the events of the night before.

But something had shifted.

For Unohana, the night stirred feelings she had long suppressed.

For Arima, it was a reminder of how much the world had changed—and how much it needed to change further.

The air of the Soul Society was thick with stagnation, its once-pristine system now marred by decay.

For both of them, the future loomed with the promise of transformation, whether by their hands or by force.

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900 words

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