Even battle-hardened veterans couldn't deny it—Unohana Retsu and Saito Furōfushi were uniquely captivating in their own terrifying way.
Jaeger, despite having seen countless battlefields and beauty alike, found himself acknowledging their allure. But he also knew better than to be swayed by it.
The atmosphere was anything but romantic.
Their gazes were sharp, piercing—not the kind that warms you, but the kind that cuts straight to the soul.
"So it is the infamous Saito Furōfushi... and Unohana Retsu," Jaeger said with a hint of amusement.
He glanced between them, sensing the tension rising, and didn't bother feigning ignorance. "Let me guess—you called me here for a fight, not for tea?"
"If not that, then what else?" Saito replied, her tone laced with anticipation. Her mismatched eyes burned with battle spirit. "I heard you took down old man Shigekuni. That alone makes you worth challenging."
"I'm different, though," Unohana said softly, her voice calm but tinged with a chilling undertone. "Even before that rumor reached me, I already wanted to cross blades with you."
She looked every bit the composed and gentle woman—a model of grace. But behind those serene eyes was the unmistakable bloodlust of a warrior.
Jaeger narrowed his eyes slightly. "I don't recall us ever meeting before."
Unohana nodded. "We haven't. But when I was examining Ichimaru Gin's body, I noticed a sword wound I couldn't forget. Later, when a wounded captain described your blade... I knew I had to see it for myself."
Her voice remained soft, but there was unmistakable steel beneath it. "To call myself a swordswoman and not witness that sword in person? I would carry that regret forever."
Jaeger gave a small smirk. "I see... So you two want to challenge me. Fine. But I'm not some celibate monk like most of the Soul Society. If you provoke me and lose, I hope you're prepared for the consequences."
Saito licked her lips, grinning wide. "Of course we are! Everyone's heard about what happened with Soi fon and the two vice-captains. I know what kind of man you are."
She suddenly drew her Zanpakutō in one swift motion. "Let's keep it pure—swords only. No tricks. If I lose, I'll do whatever you want. Even if it means kneeling and serving you, I won't complain."
Unohana followed suit, drawing her blade with silent grace. "I may not be as wild as her," she said, "but my thoughts aren't far off. If I lose, this body is yours."
Jaeger laughed heartily, golden eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Now this is what I expected from the first-generation captains of the Soul Society. Even your pride burns louder than most men's!"
The moment hung heavy. The challenge was real.
And yet neither woman showed the slightest anger at his words. No wounded pride. No hesitation.
After all, they were not ordinary Shinigami. They were legends—warriors from the same era as Yamamoto Genryūsai. Founders of the Soul Society's military might. People like them didn't need to posture. Their blades did the talking.
And Jaeger... he had already defeated Yamamoto in a duel that ended with a single strike.
They both knew what that meant. But still—they had to try.
"Shikai!"
A violent surge of spiritual pressure erupted from Saito as her body blurred into motion. Laughing wildly, she launched herself toward Jaeger. Though her blade was activated, she held back its true abilities. This would be a duel of pure swordsmanship.
Unohana wasn't far behind. She didn't even release her Shikai—her raw skill alone was terrifying. Like lightning, the two warriors flanked Jaeger with flawless precision.
Left and right. Above and below.
No words, no coordination—just perfect timing.
"This is it!" Saito shouted with wild glee. "You're boxed in, boy!"
To her, this was the perfect trap. No matter which way Jaeger dodged, he'd be met with steel. Retreat? That would only invite relentless pursuit. Stay still? He'd be overwhelmed.
She was certain. He wasn't a pure swordsman. Not like them.
This was their best shot.
Jaeger, however, wasn't impressed.
He saw their movements for what they were—masterful, yes. But not beyond him.
These two were kendo prodigies, their swordplay honed over centuries. But to him, their style was predictable. Rigid. Trapped within the limitations of effort, form, and technique.
They weren't ready for what was coming.
"God Avoids—"
Jaeger whispered.
He didn't move to block or dodge. Instead, he stepped forward, raising his gleaming golden sword.
And then—light.
Twin arcs of blinding gold split the battlefield in half.
The two captains never saw it coming. Not really. One moment, they were lunging. The next—they were flying backwards, blood spraying violently from deep wounds.
Kneeling, Saito clutched her side, blood pouring through her fingers. She coughed, spat, and winced as fragments of her own organs came up with it. Yet even in agony, her eyes sparkled.
"One sword... You only swung once," she rasped. "But... it hit like two. Why?"
Jaeger smiled coolly. "Two-sword style. It's a bit of a... specialty of mine."
He didn't explain further. No point in wasting breath on secrets she wouldn't understand. The sword wasn't just powerful—it was conceptual, beyond normal technique.
Saito scowled. "Hmph... Two-sword style? You're holding one blade, bastard!"
Still, she didn't press. Some part of her understood—this was something beyond swordsmanship.
Unohana, pale from blood loss, looked up at Jaeger, eyes full of weary awe.
"The captain was right," she murmured. "Your sword doesn't just defeat people... it breaks them. There's no flaw, no weakness, no tactic to counter it. It's like swinging inevitability itself."
She laughed bitterly. "We train for centuries... and yet your blade says, 'None of it matters.' It's enough to make anyone despair."
Jaeger said nothing.
She was right.
His sword—the God Avoids—wasn't the culmination of effort. It was mockery incarnate.
The harder your opponent had worked to master the blade, the more devastating the realization: their entire path was meaningless in front of this.
But the two before him... were different.
Despite their despair, they didn't weep or curse. They didn't lose themselves.
They were warriors first. And if nothing else, warriors respected strength.
Maybe they'd never reach the height of his sword—but now, they had something to chase.
Something impossible. And sometimes... that was enough.
Suddenly, Jaeger reached down and tugged on one of Saito's twin ponytails.
"Hey—! What the hell are you doing!?" she snapped, eyes wide with outrage.
With absolutely no awareness of having lost, as if she were the true victor, Saito Furōfushi glared at Jaeger with a single eye. Her voice was sharp, practically biting.
But Jaeger didn't mind. In fact, this was exactly what he liked about her—sharp-tongued, wild-tempered, and shameless.
That was the charm of this purple-haired, twin-tailed, pseudo-loli Captain.
"You haven't forgotten what you said before the fight, have you?" he asked casually, twirling a lock of her silky ponytail around his finger like a child playing with a ribbon.
His voice dropped to a teasing tone.
"You said that if you lost, you'd kneel and serve me."
"Eh? I… Did I say something like that… just now?"
Saito froze. Her small body stiffened, and her mind raced.
Shit…
Boasting before a fight was second nature to her. She'd been like this for a thousand years. But this time, her big mouth had landed her right in Jaeger's trap.
Before she could protest, a soft, sinister chuckle rang out beside her.
"Oh, you said it all right," Unohana Retsu spoke up. Her tone was calm but her smile was anything but innocent. "I remember it clearly. You were quite confident at the time, Saito."
"Eh?! Unohana, you traitorous hag!"
Saito howled in betrayal, shooting her supposed comrade-in-arms a betrayed look.
But Unohana only smiled sweetly. Saito narrowed her eyes, then smiled.
"Don't act so smug! I remember you saying something too! Something like—'If I lose, this body is yours to do with as you please.' Ring a bell?"
To Saito's surprise, Unohana didn't flinch.
"Of course," she replied serenely, folding her arms with a composed grace. "And I don't regret a word of it."
Her lips curled into a strange, knowing smile.
"I've been single for over a millennium. It's about time I tried something new."
Saito's mouth dropped open.
"You—you planned this, didn't you?! You scheming old witch! You wanted to lose!"
Unohana's chuckle was soft, but her next words were laced with steel.
"Old? Careful with that tongue, Saito. You and I are the same age, give or take a few centuries."
Age was a sore spot—an eternal battlefield even stronger than swordplay.
Unohana's dark smile grew wider as she turned toward Jaeger, her eyes burning with a warrior's hunger.
"I gave you my word. My body is yours… but you haven't satisfied me yet. If a man can't satisfy a woman, he's not worth trusting."
"Oh?" Jaeger raised an eyebrow. "Now that's a bold provocation."
He glanced at her tattered state. Blood dripped from fresh wounds, but she stood tall, unbroken.
"You planning to heal yourself with Minazuki and keep fighting? After what I just showed you?"
"You could kill me again," Unohana said, stepping forward despite the pain, her smile wide and feral. "But I don't care. If I die, so be it."
Her voice was a drunken slur of obsession and ecstasy.
"Wounds like these… make me feel alive."
Without warning, she launched herself forward, moving like a shadow warped by the speed of lightning. She was a blur, all madness and motion.
Jaeger's expression shifted. This time, he didn't summon his divine weapons. Instead, he activated something he'd never used in combat.
The Infinite Sword Heart.
A Noble Phantasm he'd acquired in the pirate world after slaying Silvers Rayleigh—a gift that allowed the instant learning, evolving, and perfecting of any sword technique just by watching it once.
Jaeger rarely used swords. It wasn't his style. But this was perfect—not for killing, but for satisfying the madwoman before him.
"You...!"
Saito stared in disbelief as Jaeger shifted into a stance nearly identical to Unohana's.
And then—
He struck.
Faster. Sharper. More refined than her original.
A crimson spray filled the air.
"You copied my sword style… improved it in seconds?" Unohana gasped, blood seeping from her mouth. But her eyes were gleaming with admiration. "Incredible… but not enough to satisfy me!"
She adjusted her stance and counterattacked.
The clash resumed. Their blades danced—a hurricane of steel and blood.
Every time Unohana unleashed a new technique, Jaeger learned it on the spot, broke it down, perfected it, and turned it against her. In mere moments, she was covered in wounds.
But she didn't stop.
She laughed. She screamed. She fought harder.
From the sidelines, Saito could only grit her teeth.
"Madwoman," she muttered. "And I thought I was crazy."
The first Kenpachi, buried under centuries of restraint, had finally been unshackled. And she was terrifying.
Eventually, Jaeger's blade disarmed her completely. Her zanpakutō flew from her hands. Then, with a single, decisive strike, he severed her spine.
Blood gushed out.
Unohana collapsed into his arms, still faintly conscious. Her instincts had carried her this far, but her body had long since broken.
The duel, which should never have happened, finally came to a brutal, beautiful end.
"Is… is she dead?" Saito asked quietly, eyes wide.
"She won't die," Jaeger said, breathing evenly as he held the bloodied woman in his arms. "I'll heal her."
With a flicker of motion, he reappeared in front of Saito. Without warning, he grabbed her twin ponytails again.
"You asshole! Quit grabbing my hair!"
She bared her teeth like an angry dog, ready to pounce.
But Jaeger only grinned.
"A deal's a deal. You lost. That means you belong to me now. Better get used to having your twin tails tugged."
Saito blinked, confused by his tone.
Jaeger leaned closer, eyes glinting with mischief.
"I've always wanted to try fighting with twin tails. I thought Eriri would be the first. But I guess you delivered yourself to my doorstep."
He turned and walked off with both women—one unconscious, one seething.
"It's time I enjoy my spoils of war."
•••
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