The Script is Ready
Shiraishi hadn't always been this way.
After crossing into Soul Society, he spent three years struggling with the language barrier. Only then did he realize—he wasn't naturally taciturn. Back in his old world, he'd simply had online platforms to express himself. Stripped of that outlet, his silence became his default.
But deep down, he longed to connect with others—to talk with beautiful women, to boast in front of people. When words failed him, it gnawed at him. That bottled-up urge, combined with the confidence granted by his power, pushed him to embrace his desires openly. He decided he would pursue happiness directly, without shame.
It was… fascinating.
Unohana Retsu's almond-shaped eyes narrowed into crescents, the way they did when she smiled. The last time she had met such a talkative personality… it had been centuries ago. She truly wanted to test him, perhaps even tease him.
> "Without a sincere heart, one cannot progress far in the way of the sword. Shiraishi-san, it is rare that we meet. Why don't we soak in the hot springs together? The waters here are beneficial—they soothe the body, moisturize the skin, and ease fatigue."
"C-Captain!" Kotetsu Isane almost slipped, blurting out her division title before quickly correcting herself in a whisper. "Sister Unohana… we didn't bring towels!"
No towels?!
Shiraishi's sharp ears caught the slip, and steam practically gushed from his nostrils. In Soul Society, Shinigami typically wore nothing under their kosode. Once the uniform came off—there was nothing left.
"That's… not good," he muttered.
"If you don't want to—"
"No, I do!" Shiraishi cut her off hastily. He wasn't about to retreat; it wasn't as though he was forcing her—she was the one who invited him. As a man, how could he back down now?
As expected of someone who had lived over a thousand years… her boldness was awe-inspiring.
Shiraishi's heart pounded. It was his first time sharing a bath with women. He stripped quickly and slid into the steaming water, leaning back against the blue stone rim. He counted the seconds, every heartbeat loud in his ears. When he finally heard footsteps approaching, he turned. His breath caught.
The women's figures blurred strangely.
Breasts, hips, and other curves seemed to vanish into the natural scenery, replaced by the surrounding rocks and water. Their forms appeared fractured into pieces—the work of Bakudō #26: Kyokkō (Curving Light), a concealment spell that bent light to make objects invisible.
So this was how they bathed without shame.
Even so, Shiraishi's gaze was drawn to Kotetsu Isane's towering figure. At nearly 187 cm, her long, milk-white legs seemed sculpted from jade. Strong yet feminine, they captivated him.
He clasped his hands respectfully. "Kotetsu-san, thank you for your hospitality."
"E-Eh?!" Isane squeaked, her usual stern expression melting into panic. She shrank behind Unohana, face reddening until she looked about to boil.
"It's fine," Shiraishi reassured. "Kyokkō conceals you perfectly. Still… Isane's legs truly are enviable. They look like works of art."
Unohana, unbothered, actually pinched her lieutenant's leg lightly. "Beautiful, aren't they? Of course—they suit her height."
"S-Sister Unohana…" Isane whispered, flustered beyond measure. She didn't understand why her captain had dragged her into this mixed bath. This wasn't rest—it was chaos.
Unlike when wrapped in a towel, her body felt bare to the open air. Even with Kidō concealment, the hot spring breeze tickled her in places she wished it wouldn't. What if the spell failed? What if—?
"Stop fussing and get in," Unohana ordered gently but firmly. "It's a rare day off. Don't waste it."
Isane sighed. Vice-Captain Yamada is going to scold me again…
Caught between her captain and vice-captain, her life was constant stress. Obeying one always offended the other. She was exhausted by it.
Still, when she finally lowered herself into the hot spring, the warmth melted her worries. A sigh of bliss escaped her lips.
Unohana settled beside Shiraishi, their shoulders brushing, their legs touching under the water. She smiled.
"Shiraishi-san… is that sword at your waist a Zanpakutō?"
His body nearly melted from the closeness. For the first time in his life, he was bathing beside women, chatting as though it were natural. No wonder hot springs were a staple of so many stories—the warmth, the steam, and a woman's nearness made for an intoxicating mix.
"Yes," he admitted. "I claimed it from a Shinigami slain by a Hollow."
Unohana tilted her head. "From its appearance, it seems to remain constantly in Shikai."
"That's right. Its name is Mugen. It has no offensive power—only the ability to conceal my Reiatsu."
Even while enjoying himself, Shiraishi forced himself to stay rational. He couldn't afford to let beauty strip away his caution. He had to measure every word carefully.
Yet Unohana's gentle gaze, the warmth of her body beside his, threatened to unravel his restraint.
He admitted quietly, "The truth is… I'm currently a wanted man. The Second Division hunts me, accusing me of killing Hasegawa Taizō, their Fifth Seat. But I swear—I acted for the good of the people."
Unohana didn't so much as blink at the confession. To her, such matters were trifles, unworthy of dwelling on. What interested her was not his past—but his future.
"And where do you intend to go now?" she asked softly.
"Wherever the wind carries me," Shiraishi answered, concealing his real base of operations in West District 10. Revealing that would endanger his allies—Yagyū Ichirō, Kawakami Saburō, and others tied to the underground.
Unohana smiled faintly. "If you truly have nowhere else to go, why not accompany us to West District 26?"
Shiraishi raised an eyebrow. "And what business do you have there?"
"I heard from a colleague," Unohana explained, "that rare herbs grow in those parts. Dragon Lantern Ganoderma, to be precise. I'd like to try my luck harvesting some."
Curious, Shiraishi pressed, "This colleague of yours… a man, by chance?"
"Yes," she replied simply. "A very knowledgeable man. He wears glasses."
At those words, a wave of emotion surged through Shiraishi. He could already guess who she meant.