HYUZ - Chapter 270: Acting

Late at night, Masatsuki Aozaki brought a group of injured squad members to the 4th Division.

Watching the battered 11th Division members, Retsu Unohana couldn’t help but smile.

This division truly hadn’t changed in a thousand years.

They were willing to entrust their lives to one another in the face of an enemy—yet at the same time, they were just as likely to end up battered and bruised because of their own comrades.

“It’s been many years. Though it may be a little late for reminiscing, you really do seem different from before.”

As she spoke, Unohana activated her healing Kido, directing it toward Kenpachi Zaraki, who was lying on a hospital bed.

“Huh? Who the hell are you?”

Kenpachi Zaraki looked at her in complete confusion.

Unohana’s eye twitched. A dark, ominous aura seemed to radiate from her body for a moment.

Before meeting Masatsuki Aozaki, the man known as Kenpachi Zaraki had been her most cherished opponent.

And yet…

She had never once forgotten him.

Even though he had grown from the wild child he once was into the man before her, she recognized him at a glance.

She had assumed—no, she had been certain—that he, too, had held onto that memory.

That he would remember their battle.

That he would remember her as his sworn rival, anticipating the day they would cross blades again in another exhilarating fight to the death.

But he didn’t remember her at all?

The fool… was me?

Was my swordsmanship—something I took such pride in—not even worthy of leaving a single mark on his memory!?

“Calm down, Retsu.”

Masatsuki Aozaki stepped behind her with a smile.

Gently taking her hand, he patted the back of it, as if soothing a wounded animal.

“This guy has amnesia. He barely remembers anything from back then.”

“…Amnesia? Seriously?”

Unohana’s expression slowly returned to its usual calm, though suspicion still flickered in her eyes.

“Of course. Even if I wanted to lie to you, do you really think this big oaf could?”

Masatsuki’s tone was laced with amusement, as if exasperated by Kenpachi’s sheer simplicity.

As if to prove Masatsuki’s words, Kenpachi spoke up right on cue.

“You know me?”

“We’ve met before,” Unohana said softly. “Back in Rukongai, when you were just a child.”

Her fingers brushed against her chest—where a once-gruesome scar had long since faded away.

She exhaled, almost nostalgically.

“That battle remains a treasured memory.”

“A fight? You and me?”

Kenpachi’s expression shifted slightly. He looked genuinely taken aback.

He had no memory of anything like that.

After spending nearly two and a half months with the 11th Division, he had learned that the 4th Division was responsible for medical care and logistics.

He never would have guessed that this delicate-looking woman had once fought him.

And yet, the faint bloodlust that had momentarily surfaced in her presence made it clear—this wasn’t a lie.

Just from that alone, he could tell.

This woman… was the same as him.

Now, the only question was—how strong was she?

Could she make him feel the same thrill in battle that Masatsuki did?

“But you didn’t die, and I didn’t die either. Does that mean it was a draw?” Kenpachi Zaraki asked, puzzled.

“No, not at all. I lost that fight,” Retsu Unohana admitted without hesitation.

“Oh? Is that so?”

Hearing her response, Kenpachi immediately lost interest in her.

Right now, the only opponent he truly desired to defeat was the terrifying man standing beside Unohana—Masatsuki Aozaki.

Unohana narrowed her eyes slightly, her voice turning cold.

“I may have lost that time, but if we were to fight again today, the outcome would be far from certain.”

Kenpachi didn’t reply. He didn’t know much about her, so instead, he turned to his own Captain for confirmation.

“She’s right,” Masatsuki Aozaki said with a shrug.

Unohana had already broken past the boundary between Shinigami and Hollow, and her strength was still growing.

And truth be told, the gap between her and Kenpachi had never been that large to begin with.

If they were to fight again now… the result would be hard to predict.

“That’s perfect!”

Kenpachi bared his teeth in a wild grin, his sharp fangs gleaming as he let out a crazed laugh.

“Good! Since I don’t remember that fight, if you want to challenge me again, I’m ready whenever you are!”

“Just what I was hoping for.”

A chilling smile curled at the edges of Unohana’s lips.

“Let’s see who ends up as the loser this time…”

...

A few days later, Masatsuki Aozaki accompanied Retsu Unohana and Yoruichi Shihōin to the 1st Division.

In the end, Unohana and Kenpachi never got their rematch.

Her strength was still evolving, and she wanted to face her former rival at her absolute peak—preferably without relying on Hollowfication.

After all, using that kind of power now would only bring unnecessary complications.

...

Inside the Captain’s Meeting Room, all the Captains of the Gotei 13 had gathered—except for the missing Captain of the 6th Division, Kōga Kuchiki.

Dressed in white haori, the elite of the Gotei 13 stood in two rows, their eyes all fixed on the doorway.

Yamamoto cast a brief glance at his young disciple, his expression tinged with emotion.

Resting both hands on his staff, he raised his voice and declared,

“The Captain’s Meeting of the Gotei 13 is now in session!”

“Captain Kuchiki, enter.”

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, an elderly figure with silver-white hair walked in with steady, measured steps.

Draped over his black Shihakushō was a familiar white haori, and the face that emerged was even more familiar.

“The Acting Captain of the 6th Division—Ginrei Kuchiki.”

The old man, who had only just begun to enjoy his retirement, had inevitably been pulled back into the fold.

The moment he stepped into the room, it felt as though time had rewound—his past flashing before his eyes like fleeting memories.

But the years had left their mark.

That once-proud and resolute face was now lined with age, worn by the weight of time.

As the other Captains looked at Ginrei, their reactions varied.

Some wore expressions of regret. Others remained silent.

But one thing was clear to everyone—his son-in-law’s disappearance had dealt a devastating blow to the old man.

And it was precisely because of this loss that Ginrei had been forced out of retirement.

At Yamamoto’s command, Ginrei Kuchiki had been reinstated as the Captain of the 6th Division—only a few short years after he had stepped down.

It all seemed so natural, so inevitable.

Yet the burden and bitterness behind it were things only he himself could understand.

...

After the formalities were completed, Masatsuki Aozaki, along with the other Captains, gathered around Ginrei to offer their condolences and support.

Not a single person questioned his return to command.

His eldest son, Sōjun Kuchiki, held an important position in the Shin’ō District, while his grandson, Byakuya Kuchiki, was still too inexperienced and could only serve as the division’s Lieutenant for the time being.

Given these circumstances, there was simply no better choice for the position than Ginrei.

Throughout all the words of sympathy and reassurance, Ginrei remained calm, his expression as deep and unreadable as ever.

With a slight nod, he responded to everyone in a composed tone.

This was a man who had weathered countless storms.

He had long since learned to bury his emotions deep within, never revealing even the slightest weakness before others.

...

As Masatsuki spoke solemnly about Ginrei’s loss, Aizen narrowed his eyes.

This guy’s acting is something else.

That sorrowful, grieving expression…

The way he kept affectionately referring to the missing Captain as “Kōga”...

If I hadn’t personally seen him cut off Kōga Kuchiki’s head with my own eyes, even I might have believed that he had nothing to do with his death.