Unohana Retsu, as gentle as always, stood there with a faint smile that seemed to warm even the cold corridors of the Fourth Division. The slight curve of her lips, framed by her cascading black hair and the ever-calm aura she exuded, made her strikingly beautiful in that moment.
"Well… how should I say this? Honestly, I never wanted to be a captain," Aoki murmured.
There was no false modesty in his words. From the beginning, he had never desired the burdens of command. Life in the Fourth Division had suited him—free from oversight, prioritized for its healing mission, and untouched by the ceaseless politics that consumed the higher ranks. He found peace there.
"Those with true capability must take on heavier responsibilities," Unohana replied with her tranquil smile. "In truth, I anticipated this day. With your ability, remaining as a third seat would have been a disservice to your potential."
Hearing her words, something stirred within Aoki—a feeling long dormant. His heart, quiet for over a millennium, now seemed to echo with a strange pang. Without thinking, the words spilled from his lips, almost inaudibly: "I don't think I can stay by your side without feeling… undeserving."
Unohana said nothing, but her eyes softened. Then she turned and left with her usual grace, but the silence she left behind echoed louder than her presence.
Aoki barely had time to process his own words before Kyōraku Shunsui stepped in with a teasing grin. "Oho? What's this I overheard, Captain Aoki? Confessing to our beloved Captain Unohana? You've got guts, I'll give you that."
Nearby, Kotetsu Kiyone and Kotsubaki Sentarō from the Thirteenth Division turned toward Aoki with amused expressions. Kiyone, Isane's younger sister, often heard stories about him from her sibling—especially since Isane worked directly under Unohana.
"Uh-huh…" the two nodded knowingly in unison, the gleam of gossip in their eyes making Aoki visibly uncomfortable.
"Ridiculous," Aoki muttered, flustered, and quickly left the scene, but not before Kiyone called after him with glee. "I didn't expect Aoki-san to fall for Captain Unohana! That's huge news!"
"Idiot," Sentarō snapped back. "He's Captain Aoki now."
As the two continued bickering, Unohana herself appeared behind them without a sound, smiling pleasantly. "What are you talking about?"
A wave of cold dread washed over everyone. Even Shunsui paused, sensing the deadly edge hidden beneath her tranquil voice. Despite her gentle appearance, the legend of her as the first Kenpachi—the most violent of all captains—remained burned into their memories.
Kotetsu Isane had organized the celebration. Aoki had originally refused, but she paid no heed to his protests. As the sun set, more captains and lieutenants arrived to honor the Fifth Division's new leader. Shunsui and Ukitake arrived together, as expected. Strangely, Kuchiki Byakuya did not attend, though some from the Sixth Division made an appearance. Even Mayuri Kurotsuchi sent Nemu in his stead, which raised some eyebrows.
Yet despite all the guests, Aoki found himself disappointed. Unohana did not return.
After several rounds of drinks, Matsumoto Rangiku led a chorus of increasingly loud and bizarre toasts. Isane, Kiyone, and even Hitsugaya Tōshirō—who rarely partook in such revelry—loosened up a bit. For Aoki, who hadn't experienced such camaraderie in over a thousand years, it was overwhelming. He eventually grew tipsy and wandered off.
Rather than returning to the Fifth Division's barracks, he subconsciously walked the familiar path back to his old quarters in the Fourth Division. The alcohol brewed in the Seireitei wasn't ordinary—it lingered. His head throbbed, and as he stumbled toward the wash basin, a warm towel fell over his face.
"Huh?"
As he blinked at the damp cloth in his hands, a young member of the Fourth Division entered. "Ah! Captain Aoki, you're awake?"
From the young Shinigami's explanation, Aoki learned Unohana had personally tended to him all night. Holding the towel, still warm from her touch, he let a rare smile curve his lips.
While the Fifth Division's workload was light due to its former focus on reconnaissance and Aizen's manipulations, Aoki's responsibilities were many. With Hinamori Momo still comatose, Aoki had taken full control of the division's day-to-day operations.
"Captain, here's all the compiled intel on… former Captain Aizen," a subordinate said, hesitating at the title.
The betrayal had left scars. The members of the Fifth Division still felt the shame of having once followed Aizen so faithfully. His departure was not just treason—it was a betrayal of trust.
"You've worked hard," Aoki said gently, flipping through the documents.
The officer hesitated, then blurted, "Captain Aoki… please defeat Aizen. Clear the Fifth Division's name!"
The request struck Aoki deeply. He could see how much they once admired Aizen—and how deeply they now resented him.
"To revere someone so much… that their betrayal hurts the most. Longing truly is the farthest distance between people," he murmured, discarding the folder. None of it would help. Aizen, master manipulator that he was, would have never left anything useful behind.
In the Seireitei's medical center, Hinamori Momo lay in suspended rest inside a recovery pod. Hitsugaya stood vigil beside her, his brows furrowed with concern.
"Captain Unohana," he asked, "when will she wake up?"
Unohana's reply was calm as ever. "Her body is healed, but her mind remains fractured. I cannot repair the soul's will. Perhaps Captain Aoki can help. He… has a unique understanding of such matters."
At that moment, Aoki entered the room, scratching his head sheepishly. "Sorry I'm late. So many things to handle back in the division…"
Kotetsu Isane teased him. "You look like a mess. What kind of Captain doesn't know how to take care of himself?"
Aoki laughed lightly, but his gaze quickly shifted to Hinamori. He approached the pod and gently placed his hand on her forehead.
A soft green glow—Kaidō, the advanced healing technique of the Fourth Division—spread from his palm.
Slowly, the girl's eyelids fluttered. Her breathing steadied. And for the first time since the