Chapter 88: Super-Speed Regeneration

“An interesting ability,” Unohana Yachiru remarked, her tone calm as her aura shifted from violent to serene. She gripped Minazuki with both hands, her stance relaxed yet poised, inviting Yamabuki Haruto to make the first move.

Haruto vanished in a burst of Shunpo, his form a blur as he streaked past Unohana. This time, she didn’t counterattack, instead sidestepping his strike with minimal movement, her eyes tracking his every motion. Haruto’s face tightened as he landed, pivoting on one foot and charging again, his Zanpakutō, Silver Angel, glowing with radiant light.

Unohana’s expression remained cold. Their figures flashed, blades clashing in a shower of sparks. She flicked Minazuki, sending a spray of blood arcing across the ground. A deep, horizontal gash opened across Haruto’s abdomen, the wound severe enough to have bisected a lesser Shinigami.

Haruto staggered, clutching his stomach. His Reiatsu flared as he drew in ambient Reishi, channeling Kaido to knit the wound closed with astonishing speed. Within moments, the gash was nearly healed, his skin unmarred.

“Your sword is swift, but flawed,” Unohana said, shaking her head. “I don’t even need to attack. You throw yourself onto my blade. I expected more from the Gotei 13’s defender.” Her voice carried a hint of disappointment, the thrill of battle dimming in her eyes.

Haruto, now recovered, took two steps back, his gaze locked on Unohana. She had exploited a flaw in his swordsmanship with a single, effortless strike, reminiscent of a master swordsman dissecting an opponent’s technique. So that’s how a Kenpachi fights, he thought, a spark of realization igniting.

He took a deep breath, forgoing Shunpo this time. Slowly, deliberately, he walked to within two meters of Unohana, his grip tightening on Silver Angel. “What’s this?” she asked, her brow arching.

In a flash, Haruto struck, his blade aimed at Unohana’s chest like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes widened—she hadn’t expected him to pinpoint a flaw in her swordsmanship so quickly. Was it skill or instinct? No time to ponder. She tilted her body, narrowly dodging the strike, and countered with a swift slash.

Haruto grinned, refusing to defend. His Shikai amplifying his speed and precision. He absorbed Reishi instinctively, his body regenerating even as Unohana’s blade pierced his chest. In the same instant, Silver Angel grazed her shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood.

Their blades clashed with a resounding clang. Unohana, forced to parry, stepped back, her eyes narrowing. Haruto’s regeneration was unnatural for a Shinigami, rivaling the high-speed regeneration of an Arrancar. “You can heal like that, but I cannot,” she mused, her voice tinged with intrigue. “A dangerous game.”

Haruto’s attacks grew relentless, each slash targeting Unohana’s weaknesses with uncanny precision. She retreated, her movements fluid but defensive, a rare position for the first Kenpachi. “His Reiatsu… his swordsmanship… they’re evolving mid-battle,” she thought, her surprise growing. “Is this the same man?”

As a master of Zanjutsu, Unohana knew her own flaws and countered Haruto’s storm of strikes with calculated precision. His blade came like a tempest, but it couldn’t breach her defenses.

Then, Unohana’s Minazuki vanished from sight. Haruto froze, a prickle of dread racing down his spine. The blade hadn’t disappeared—it was striking from a blind angle, too fast to track. In the split second of his hesitation, Unohana’s sword pierced his torso, the blade punching clean through.

“You are formidable,” Unohana said, withdrawing Minazuki as blood sprayed like a fountain. “But far from my equal.” She turned to leave, seeking a worthier foe.

To her shock, Haruto staggered to his feet, using Silver Angel as a crutch. “Over? I’m just getting started. That was foreplay!” His voice was defiant, his Reiatsu surging despite the gaping wound.

Unohana’s eyes widened in disbelief. The injury should have been fatal, yet Haruto stood, his body knitting itself back together without Kaido. His cells regenerated at an inhuman rate, the wound closing before her eyes. “What are you?” she whispered, her excitement reigniting. This wasn’t a Shinigami’s body—it was something else, a puzzle she ached to unravel.

Haruto, equally surprised, studied his healing torso. “All those injuries in training… did they unlock this?” he muttered, half to himself. Turning to Unohana, he grinned. “Cut me again. I want to test something.”

Unohana blinked, stunned. “You… what?” Was this madness or bravado? Either way, it was a challenge she couldn’t resist.

She lunged, her blade slicing into Haruto’s abdomen and twisting, severing muscle and organs. The pain was excruciating, yet Haruto’s expression was almost euphoric. His body regenerated even faster, Reishi flooding his system as his cells rebuilt themselves in seconds.

“Too much self-inflicted training?” he laughed, wincing. “Maybe my body’s trying to save itself!”

“You’re not human,” Unohana said, her voice a mix of horror and fascination. She withdrew Minazuki, watching as Haruto’s intestines visibly writhed, the wound sealing shut in under ten seconds.

“Hey, don’t insult me!” Haruto protested. “I’m the Chief of Staff of the Gotei 13! I’ve got a reputation to uphold!” Despite his words, the sight was gruesome—his body healed as if untouched, his Reiatsu undiminished.

Unohana gripped Minazuki with both hands, her eyes gleaming with predatory excitement. “To defeat you, I must kill you in one strike.” The thrill of a truly indestructible opponent set her blood aflame.