Word count

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.

The garden was bathed in soft, golden light as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon. White lilies and wisteria swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet fragrance mingling with the tranquil hum of nature. Arima sat with his back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree, his gaze distant yet calm, while Unohana lay with her head resting comfortably on his lap.

She looked serene, her dark hair flowing like silk across his legs and onto the grass. Despite her peaceful demeanor, the slight crease in her brow gave away the thoughts troubling her.

"It's happening again," she said quietly, breaking the calm. Her voice carried its usual soft tone but held an edge of concern. "Another disappearance in Rukongai. That makes three this month."

Arima's fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, combing it gently as he stared out into the open field. "Souls disappearing… Without a trace?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No bodies, no spiritual residue. It's as though they're plucked out of existence entirely. The Gotei's investigations have led nowhere so far."

Arima clicked his tongue softly, his expression unchanging but his voice tinged with disapproval. "That's not just a small oversight, Retsu. It's a massive security crack—a glaring sign of weakness." His tone was sharp, cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. "If the Gotei 13 can't even track the perpetrator, it speaks volumes about the current state of their systems."

Unohana opened her eyes at that, looking up at him with a small, knowing smile. "You never hold back, do you?"

"I don't see the need to sugarcoat it." Arima's gaze drifted down to meet hers, his black-and-yellow eyes sharp yet soft at the edges. "The protection of souls is your duty. If they're disappearing under your watch, it's a failure you can't afford to ignore."

She chuckled softly at his bluntness, though there was no humor in it. "Ever the harsh critic, Arima. You'd make an excellent captain yourself if you ever cared to step into such a role."

He scoffed lightly, his hand pausing in her hair for a moment. "I have no interest in playing their politics or wearing their haori. But if I were in charge, something like this would never happen."

Unohana's smile lingered faintly as she looked up at the branches above. "Bold words, as always." A pause. "But you're not wrong. This situation is troubling. Souls shouldn't be able to vanish so completely… not unless there's an entity powerful enough to erase all traces."

"That's what concerns me," Arima said, his voice lowering slightly. "Whoever—or whatever—is behind this isn't ordinary. The fact that you haven't even sensed their reiatsu means they're either masking it perfectly or operating on a level beyond what the Gotei currently expects."

She frowned slightly, her calm demeanor faltering for a moment. "I don't like the thought of that. The balance is delicate enough as it is."

Arima looked down at her again, studying her face. Despite her reputation as a warrior and healer, Unohana still carried the burden of leadership on her shoulders. He could see it clearly now—the weight of decisions, of lives that depended on her.

"You'll figure it out," he said after a moment, his voice softer this time. "You always do. But don't hesitate to get your hands dirty when the time comes."

Unohana tilted her head slightly, her smile returning, this time with a hint of something sharper. "You think I wouldn't?"

Arima's lips curved faintly. "I know you would. I'm just reminding you not to let others slow you down."

Her expression softened again as she reached up, letting her fingers briefly brush against his hand resting in her hair. "You sound like you have a great deal of faith in me."

"I do," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her. "You're the only captain in the Gotei I have faith in."

The quiet between them lingered for a while as the breeze played with the flowers. Arima leaned his head back against the tree, his gaze moving back to the horizon.

"It's unsettling," he continued, "how fragile the balance has become. If someone is deliberately removing souls… there's a larger game being played. And the Gotei needs to wake up before it's too late."

Unohana hummed softly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'll speak to Captain-Commander Yamamoto about accelerating the investigation."

"You should," Arima said with finality. "But don't let the bureaucracy stall you."

Unohana closed her eyes again, letting his words settle over her as she enjoyed the comfort of his presence. For all his criticisms, Arima's confidence in her was like a steady anchor—a rare constant in her life.

The two of them sat there as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow across the garden. And for a moment, amidst the uncertainty of disappearing souls and growing threats, everything felt still.