Restricted-Class Shinigami [154]

Nobu initially expected he'd remain locked up for at least several days, so he felt mildly surprised when he received the Head-Captain’s summons.

I wonder how Unohana-taichō’s doing now…

But she should be fine—if Unohana Retsu had actually died, he certainly wouldn’t be receiving mere imprisonment.

“Tachikawa Nobu, do you have any remorse for the transgressions you've committed?”

Faced with Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni’s direct questioning, Nobu lowered his head and answered clearly, “Not obeying your direct order was indeed my fault, Head-Captain. However, regarding the spar with my captain, I sincerely believe it was a good deed.”

This again!

A muscle twitched at the corner of Yamamoto’s eye. But after everything that had happened, he'd somewhat expected this response. Now, his earlier rage had cooled slightly, replaced by weary irritation.

“So, according to you, my orders were mistaken, and you performed a meritorious deed instead?”

Nobu clearly heard the irritation and sarcasm beneath those words but pressed on, “Head-Captain, you know my captain far better than I do. Yet now, I’m standing here alive and well—surely that's a good thing, isn't it?”

Yamamoto stared impassively at Nobu. He understood the implication—Nobu had insisted earlier that sparring with Unohana was actually helping her, and he'd been confident enough in his claims to survive.

Nobu continued boldly, “When someone’s heart remains suppressed for too long, distortion inevitably sets in. You see it as a means of control—but how can that be good? Once those twisted emotions explode, you'll lose that person entirely.”

“Are you lecturing me?”

Yamamoto’s voice became terrifyingly calm. Even without any outward reiatsu, Nobu felt a threat far more oppressive than he'd experienced beneath Sōkyoku Hill.

This invisible pressure couldn't be blocked by his Zanpakutō.

Nobu’s heartbeat slowed momentarily, but even so, he refused to yield.

“Perhaps my understanding of right and wrong seems simplistic in your eyes, Head-Captain, but that's just who I am. I don't have your extensive experience, and if I feel something is wrong, a single word from you won't overturn my beliefs. If you think me inflexible or arrogant, so be it. My sparring with my captain was meant to help her future growth—something beneficial to the Gotei 13, to Seireitei, to Soul Society itself!”

“You appointed my captain as head of the Fourth Division, yet she holds no sense of belonging toward the Gotei 13—isn't that tragic? If someday she finally snaps and harms Soul Society, would all blame rest solely on her? You ignored what she felt deep inside, treated her as nothing more than a tool—”

“Silence!”

An overwhelming surge of furious reiatsu erupted with Yamamoto’s shout, causing the very air to distort and boil.

Bang!

The office door flew open. Soi Fon-taichō rushed in, poised to apprehend Nobu again immediately.

Amid the turbulent reiatsu, Yamamoto’s voice cut sharply like a blade dipped in ice—though directed not at Nobu, but at Soi Fon:

“Who gave you permission to enter?”

Soi Fon froze. She’d entered believing Nobu had insulted the Head-Captain and intended to stop him, yet never expected Yamamoto to turn his anger toward her. His terrifying reiatsu now pressed indiscriminately, cold sweat instantly forming on her brow. She quickly knelt on one knee, bowed her head respectfully, and then swiftly retreated from the room.

Outside, Sasakibe Chōjirō stood silently, expression complicated. He had neither stopped nor aided Soi Fon’s intrusion. Having accompanied Yamamoto longer than anyone else, he knew well the Head-Captain’s temperament.

Finally releasing his pent-up anger, Yamamoto pressed harshly, “You think I caused her twisted personality? Do you truly understand the deeds she committed a thousand years ago? Do you realize how many lives she took, how severe her sins were?”

Nobu met his gaze firmly. “If you truly believe my captain remains irredeemably evil, then kill her outright. Soul Society has laws—so why has it tolerated someone like her as Fourth Division Captain for so long?”

Yamamoto felt anger rising hotly in his chest again.

Nobu didn't relent. “You wanted my captain to atone, to regret her past crimes—but you placed her in an environment she despises. You refused to guide her yet blame her for remaining unchanged, accusing her of still harboring evil. Despite her sins, you demand she express gratitude for your arrangements, using it to humiliate her further, Head-Captain—”

Nobu raised his head fearlessly, looking directly into Yamamoto’s blazing eyes.

“—You might as well just kill her.”

“...”

Compared to Yamamoto’s previous accusations, Nobu’s words were far sharper, more aggressive.

Yamamoto fell silent briefly, then suddenly laughed coldly. “You claim you’re inflexible—but your words and actions don’t match someone rigid at all, Tachikawa. You’re cunning, placing justice and morality entirely on your side, thinking this might earn my leniency?”

Nobu calmly countered, “Then why would I go this far?”

Yamamoto immediately went silent.

Slowly, Nobu continued, “If I were truly cunning, wouldn’t I understand exactly what consequences defying you might bring?”

Yet he'd still chosen to act, deliberately provoking the Head-Captain’s wrath.

If Yamamoto sought the truth behind it all, there seemed to be only one real reason—exactly as Nobu claimed.

“I've only been a Shinigami for two years, plus six years at Shin’ō Academy—I'm barely twenty years old in total. Twenty years must seem incredibly short to you—perhaps negligible. Is a mindset formed over just two decades so easily dismissed? Humans in the Living World live only sixty or seventy years, yet can grasp profound truths. But in Soul Society, even one hundred years is barely considered old—does this length of life really dull or erase one’s humanity? To you, are we just short-sighted, naïve fools? Are we only valuable as Shinigami performing duties until we die?”

Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni said nothing further, simply standing in silence for a long while.

Only after the oppressive reiatsu finally dissipated did Sasakibe enter quietly.

“Take him back. Continue detention,” Yamamoto ordered, voice steady again.

Sasakibe bowed deeply and signaled to Soi Fon outside, who once again personally escorted Nobu back to Second Division’s prison.

After their footsteps faded, Yamamoto released a deep sigh.

“Even Shunsui never showed this kind of courage.”

Among all the Gotei 13’s Captain, Kyōraku Shunsui treated him most casually—though even that casualness was tempered with respect, never daring true defiance.

Nobu wasn't that sort of person.

Maybe it’s precisely because he’s young that he's fearless.

Yamamoto was quiet for a moment before saying, “He might be a good child… or perhaps a bad one.”

Sasakibe gently interjected, “But still, he’s just a child.”

Yamamoto shook his head slightly. “I fear my judgment might be mistaken.”

Understanding the Head-Captain’s dilemma, Sasakibe continued carefully, “If you give him trust and expectation, there are only two possible outcomes: either he lives up to them, or… But if you abandon him now, you'll surely regret it deeply in the future.”

Yamamoto shot him a sideways glance. “Do you really think geniuses are so rare in my experience?”

As Head-Captain for a thousand years, he'd seen countless talents. Even Ichimaru Gin and Shiba Kaien, regarded as geniuses, hardly impressed him deeply. He'd witnessed too many prodigies already, many eventually becoming Captain themselves.

Sasakibe saw through Yamamoto’s stubbornness, responding simply:

“But none of them can match Tachikawa.”

“...”

Yamamoto again fell silent.

Yes, none of them could match Tachikawa Nobu.

Only Zaraki Kenpachi might rival Nobu’s natural talent. Yet neither inspired reassurance. Was this recklessness a common trait among geniuses of their caliber?

No one was ever flawless.

Yamamoto opened his mouth slightly as if to speak, then closed it again without a word. Flawlessness itself was subjective. He remembered clearly what Nobu had said earlier…

Finally, he asked Sasakibe, “What do you think should be done with him?”

Sasakibe bowed his head respectfully. “My thoughts align with yours, Head-Captain.”

Yamamoto gave a low scoff, followed by a quiet sigh.

...

The next day, Fourth Division Barracks.

Sasakibe Chōjirō arrived, accompanied by several Shinigami, standing before Unohana Retsu.

“By order of the Head-Captain, Fourth Division taichō Unohana Retsu shall be punished as follows: You are forbidden from leaving Seireitei without explicit permission for the next ten years. During this period, you must wear the Jureisō (Spirit-Binding Lock) under supervision. Should your presence be necessary for medical treatment, a formal request may be submitted, upon which the Jureisō can be temporarily released…”

As Sasakibe read out the punishment, aside from the Shinigami accompanying him, only Unohana and Kotetsu Isane were present.

The Jureisō was a restraining device developed by the Department of Research and Development, forcibly suppressing 99% of a wearer's reiatsu.

It was similar to the Spiritual Limiter Seal but differed crucially: while the Limiter required the wearer’s cooperation and could easily be removed at will, the Jureisō, as a punitive tool, was compulsory and could not be removed without authorization.

Of course, its effectiveness varied by individual. With Unohana Retsu’s immense spiritual pressure, total suppression would be impossible.

Expressionlessly, Unohana allowed two Shinigami to clasp the ring-shaped restraints around her wrists and ankles. Concealed beneath her shihakushō, they remained unseen.

This being Sasakibe’s sole purpose for the visit, he soon left along with the other Shinigami.

Kotetsu Isane quickly chased after them.

“Sasakibe-fukutaichō, please… how is Nobu doing now?”

Seeing the young woman’s face filled with anxiety and worry, Sasakibe paused briefly, considering his reply. “You don’t need to know that yet.”

“I understand, Sasakibe-fukutaichō, but I'm not asking about the punishment he'll face—I just want to know if Nobu is alright. Is he injured?” Isane rephrased her question hastily. Since yesterday, no Fourth Division members had received any confidential missions outside.

Sasakibe hesitated again but eventually said softly, “He’s fine.”

Isane clenched her sleeves tightly, standing at the corner of the hallway, watching Sasakibe and the others disappear. When she returned to her captain’s room and saw Unohana sitting there, expression blank, Isane’s nails dug painfully into her palms.

Finally, she couldn't restrain herself any longer.

“Taichō!”

Her voice came out louder, harsher than she’d ever dared before.

“Isane,” Unohana’s expression remained utterly calm, like stagnant water.

“Taichō, are you really not going to explain anything to me?” Isane demanded.

Unohana glanced toward her. “You must already have guessed. My past isn’t exactly a secret in Seireitei. With enough effort, anyone can find out.”

Isane burst out, unable to hold back, “But what does that matter? It’s just your past! In my heart, Taichō, you’ve always been—”

“That’s merely your own version of me,” Unohana interrupted her coolly. “The one you admire so much is nothing but a perfect, imaginary illusion created by your own heart.”

Isane froze, stunned. “Then what was all this time I’ve spent following you for?”

“That’s a question for yourself,” Unohana replied dispassionately. “You’ve always seen me through a false ideal. Now you're questioning me simply because I’m not who you imagined. Do you wish me to change, to become the version of myself you've created in your mind? To erase who I truly am?”

Unohana’s words threw Isane into further panic.

“No, Taichō, that's not what I meant…” Isane lowered her voice, trembling as she spoke. “What I mean is… you’ve always been so kind. Was all of that kindness a lie?”

Unohana remained completely unmoved.

“Yes, it was.”

Suddenly overcome with weakness, Isane sank helplessly to the floor.

As she sat dazed, Unohana spoke again, almost absentmindedly:

“During our battle, each of his strikes held back.”

“He had no intent to kill. That blade piercing my heart—he could’ve completely destroyed it if he’d wished.”

“Now that I think about it, he never really wanted to fight me. He forced himself to strike me. It wasn't a real battle at all...”

“How utterly boring.”

Unohana’s gaze shifted to the view outside the window. Sakura blossoms trembled gently, releasing delicate clouds of pink petals that drifted lazily through the air. Several petals landed softly upon the sleeves of her robe.

Her pale fingers lightly brushed against the scar on her collarbone.

She’d finally experienced the life-and-death struggle she had yearned for so long, and indeed, it had brought joy and exhilaration. But that feeling lasted only until Nobu stopped her bleeding at the very end.

What she felt now was a nauseating emptiness—far worse even than the dull, endless days she'd endured before.

Perhaps... I really shouldn’t have survived.

She murmured quietly, too softly for anyone but herself to hear.

Unohana finally turned to look at Isane once more.

“Tachikawa will be fine.”

---

This is a fan translation of 限制级死神 by 易安z. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!