"Who won?"
The last terrible blast had nearly blown little Shourei right out of the stands. Clutching the zanpakutō nearly her own height, she stayed put only by sheer stubbornness. When the dust finally settled, her heart held just that one question.
By reason, she should hope her captain, Shihōin Yoruichi, had naturally won the spar.
By feeling, she wanted her Shuuichi-dono to be the one still standing.
The field gave her the answer soon enough.
Yoruichi stood tall in the center of the grounds. Higashino Shuuichi hung limp in her hand, carried like a chick plucked from the dirt.
"Shuuichi-dono lost?"
Tears pricked her wide eyes. It was the result she should have expected—yet it hurt more than she could bear. Especially seeing him unconscious and broken.
"Don't worry, Shourei. Your Shuuichi-dono didn't lose. If anything, I lost this bout."
Yoruichi's voice was calm, almost gentle.
In her mind lingered that last instant: if not for her bursting her captain-level reiryoku at full force, Shuuichi's suicidal Hadō 91 would have left her badly injured.
She had felt it—his reiatsu, in that moment, brushing the threshold of a captain. Whether it was a temporary surge or a true breakthrough, she didn't know. But she was sure: it wouldn't be long before Higashino Shuuichi stepped cleanly over that line.
And became a true captain-class Shinigami.
"Hah! My eye really is sharp. A casual pick, and I've found a captain candidate. Hahaha!"
She thought back to a certain someone who had once doubted Shuuichi's potential. She'd be sure to rub this in later.
Meanwhile, Shourei had checked over Shuuichi's injuries in quiet panic. Hearing Yoruichi's words, she blinked up.
"Captain… you said 'captain candidate'? You mean Shuuichi-dono?"
"Exactly. Your Shuuichi-dono. He'll be a captain before long."
Yoruichi, having draped a haori over her bare figure, smiled broadly.
And though the words weren't about her, Shourei felt like honey was running through her veins. She hugged her zanpakutō tighter, mind racing.
*Shuuichi-dono is the greatest. I'll follow him. I'll become a captain too!*
Yoruichi chuckled at the look on her face and gave her a new task.
"Eh? Yoruichi-sama, you want me to… look after Shuuichi-dono while he's hurt? I… I can't, I'm not—"
Her cheeks flamed, her head shaking like a rattle.
"What else then? I borrowed him from Unohana Retsu for three days. I planned to test him bit by bit, but he had to throw everything at me right away. Now he's half-dead. I can't exactly send him back like that, can I?"
Yoruichi's smile turned sly.
She was in a fine mood. His grit had pleased her. Only with that kind of fire could someone ever hope to touch her secret art. He'd passed the first trial—combat worthiness. The rest could be left to others.
"But… I can't heal. With wounds this bad, how—"
Shourei bit her lip, glancing between Yoruichi and Shuuichi's battered form.
"You don't need to heal him. Just care for him. Can you do that?"
Yoruichi already had the perfect healer in mind. Someone who could also get a closer look at Shuuichi.
Shourei looked down at him one more time. Something inside her hardened. She nodded firmly.
"I will, Yoruichi-sama. I'll take good care of Shuuichi-dono."
Satisfied, Yoruichi left him in her hands, gave a few quick orders to the Militia, and departed.
When Higashino Shuuichi woke again, a full day had passed.
He opened his eyes, body whole. No pain. No weakness. He blinked. Hadn't he nearly dragged Yoruichi into a mutual kill? She'd never have let him actually die, but to wake without a single ache—this didn't feel right.
"Shuuichi-dono! You're awake!"
The door slid open. Shourei hurried in, her little hands wrapped in bandages, face bright with relief.
"Shourei? This isn't the 4th Division?"
He had assumed he'd been sent back to Unohana for healing.
"No, Shuuichi-dono. You're in the 2nd Division."
She came to his bedside, ready to help him rise.
He waved her off. It wasn't that he minded being treated like some noble master of old, but with her barely reaching his waist… who would be supporting who?
"So you've been watching me? And those bandages—what happened?"
He stood, questioning.
Her cheeks pinked as she murmured, "Yoruichi-sama told me to look after you. But it wasn't me who healed you—it was our 2nd Division's 3rd Seat, Urahara Kisuke-sama. These wraps are just from my hakuda practice. I tied them on to protect my hands."
She unwrapped them to show her small, tender palms.
"I see. Shourei, you're really amazing. I believe one day you'll be an incredible Shinigami too."
He patted her head softly, though inside his thoughts were elsewhere.
*Raika… that Bakkōtō I brought back. Did Urahara touch it while I was unconscious?*
(End)
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