Chapter 3: DEATH IS (NOT) THE END - 3
Reviews:
Doobie Wah: Indeed we are!
Robbeyy9588: Nah, nothing of a small Harem but Jaune will have some admirers much like how Ichigo did but the main pairing is JauneXIsane
Misfit Fox: Glad you enjoyed the story and we'll wait till we hear more people's opinions (from all three sites I write on)
Mgl1206: I did think about it, but I wanted Jaune to have just a regular Zanpakuto because of him entering the Bleachverse
Rowrow213: I'm glad you loved the story and are waiting for more, as for love interests, I personally like Isane and she was somewhat the better option for this story, though trust me, there was a few other's I considered (like Soi-Fon, Nemu, Nanao, and Momo) I didn't want to ship him with any of the main cast (Rukia and Orihime) and while the female Arrancar and Sterritter were also options, I thought it best to not ship him with them since he'd be mostly staying in Soul society.
NineYetis: Your vote has been placed!
GeneralSparda: I love Harribel as well and I'm glad you like the chapter! Also, your vote has been placed!
StandDeliver: The pacing is a little fast. I'll admit that I'm trying not to move so fast. I'll admit that giving Jaune a Zanpakuto is a bit rushed. You're right that he shouldn't enter Jinzen due to his recent realization that he's dead. However, that's kind of the point. Jaune's just trying to do what he's supposed to and isn't confronting his inner problems, much like he did in Volume 9. That's the point of the possible Bount Arc, to confront his new issues by fighting those who are afraid of death. Also, yeah, I did fuck up with the Kido stuff, as I have realized that I was thinking about the fanon interpretation of Kido. As for me keeping spiritual energy and aura different, I did so because Jaune's soul (and the souls of Remnant) are vastly different from the Souls of Bleach for reasons that'll be explained later down the line of the story.
afiqilman8456: Unfortunately, Jaune's Bankai has already been planned out!
Cat-Wick98: As I told StandDeliver I'm working the pacing slowly, and everything you've said can be somewhat answered with what I answered with him. As for Tokinada, He is gonna be a villain and I do plan on him and Jaune butting heads, but I'm trying to keep major events and arcs timeline-wise, as I think his plan can only happen amidst the aftermath of the TYBW. Also, glad you like the cover!
Jack Lycan: Vote has been taken, but I don't think I'll make this a Harem story, but there might be a few girls who fall for Jaune's charm, just like a how few girls for sure fell for Ichigo!
ThatOneNerdyWeirdo: Vote has been taken!
The mango-mongo: Here's more! Also! The final votes will be revealed in this chapter!
A/N: Ok, it seems like most have voted for...! Option A! (All of these votes were taken from reviews on here, Wattpad, and A03)
Because most have voted A, but there was quite a few for Option B, here's how the arc's of the story are going to go:
1. Bellflower Arc: Where Jaune adjusts to the life of a shinigami while also making friends in the Gotei.
2. Peace Be With You Arc: Soul Society decided that they must make peace with the Queen of Hueco Mundo, Tier Harribel, who agrees to listen to the peace treaty, however, a group of powerful Arrancars does not want peace, but wants nothing but War, can Jaune stop them before another war is ignited?
3. Bounty for Bounts Arc: Urahara discovers a group of mysterious figures who can live forever by consuming Souls and informs the Gotei about the new danger in the human world, so now, a task force is sent to investigate and take care of these figures calling themselves "Bounts".
4. TYBW Arc: The invasion of the Quincy's begins! Soul Society is on the brink of destruction, and Jaune must do everything in his power to protect his new home, but can he?
5. CFYOW Arc: The Blood War is over, but the embers of turmoil still smolder in Soul Society, as Tokinada Tsunayashiro, enacts a grand plan to create a new Soul King. However, Hisagi may be the only one to stop the crazed noble, but he can't do it alone, which is why he'll need the help of Jaune Arc to stop Tokinada, but will they be able to?
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Jaune opened his eyes, blinking against the dim, golden light filtering through the dense canopy. The sight that greeted him was both hauntingly nostalgic and deeply unsettling. He stood in the Forever Fall forest, the rich hues of scarlet leaves and rustling trees surrounding him in eerie silence. And not just any part of the forest—he was in the very clearing where, so long ago, he had faced down the towering Ursa and saved Cardin. Everything seemed frozen in time, yet vividly real. His old armor clinked as he shifted, and he glanced down to find Crocea Mors, intact and strapped to his side, as it had been before he'd reforged it back in Anima.
A voice called out, smooth yet carrying a strange weight. "You recognize this place, don't you?"
Jaune's head snapped up, his gaze locking onto a figure emerging from the shadows of the trees. There, stepping lightly yet with purpose, was a female knight clad in armor almost identical to his, bearing a striking resemblance to the gear he had received in Atlas. Her armor, however, was ancient, rusted in places, and weathered as though it had been left to corrode beneath endless seasons of rain and wind. A helmet obscured her face, but two antlers arched gracefully from either side of it, twisted and darkened by age. She looked like a relic, a warrior preserved in the forest, waiting... for him.
It didn't take Jaune long to understand. His pulse quickened as the realization settled over him. "Are... are you my Zanpakuto?"
The knight's helmet inclined in a slow, deliberate nod. "I am," she confirmed, her voice strong yet with an undercurrent of softness. "It's good to finally meet you, my master."
Jaune felt a mix of awe and uncertainty. "How long have you... existed?" he asked, trying to find a foothold in the strangeness of it all. Meeting a part of himself, a spirit he'd never known had been there, felt both grounding and surreal.
The knight paused, as though the question tugged at memories buried deep within her. "I don't know," she replied after a moment, her voice carrying the faintest hint of sorrow. "I feel as though I've been with you forever... I remember you wielding me here in this very spot when you defeated the Ursa, back then, I had no body, no voice, no mind—yet I could feel you, Jaune Arc, every battle, every fear, every triumph, even though I remained silent, I was there,"
She looked up at him, her gaze hidden but somehow reaching him all the same. For a moment, Jaune could feel it too—a deep, unshakable sense that he had known the Spirit for ages.
"This... is the first time I've spoken to you, yet it feels as if we have known each other for an eternity," the knight told him.
Jaune's grip tightened on the hilt of his sword as he took in her words, realizing just how deeply entwined their fates were. His mind raced with a thousand questions, but he steadied himself, taking a deep breath. "Will you tell me your name?" Jaune asked, his voice laced with curiosity and reverence.
The knight turned toward him, her helmet tilting slightly as though searching his face for something. "My name... you don't know it?" Her tone held a faint trace of sadness, a quiet disbelief.
Jaune shook his head, feeling the weight of his own ignorance.
The knight's shoulders fell ever so slightly, the armor creaking with the movement. She seemed to accept his response, though there was a lingering melancholy in her voice. "I'm not surprised, after all, when we crossed into this world, we became one, and my name... it has changed," She told him "My form, my nature, even my purpose have shifted, but once, I was the sword at your side,"
Jaune's grip on the hilt tightened, his gaze darting from the ancient blade at his hip back to the knight standing before him. Shock rippled through him. "You... you were Crocea Mors?" he whispered as if saying it too loudly might break the spell of this strange encounter.
The spirit nodded slowly. "Yes, I was Crocea Mors, but now, I am something else, something more," She replied to Jaune. "I have changed because, in this realm, we are bound... We must exist as one,"
Jaune felt the air grow heavier as the implications of her words sank in. His mind raced with the realization. "You mean... when I died and we fell into this place... we...?"
"Became one? Yes," Her voice softened as she regarded him, a warmth that belied the cold metal of her armor. "Your soul has reshaped me, given me a new purpose, new life... And because of that union, I can see into your heart, I feel it now—what still weighs on you, what burdens you carry, and what eats away at your soul"
Jaune looked down, feeling her gaze, even through the shadowed visor. The forest around them felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for him to acknowledge what she already understood. In her presence, it was as if every suppressed fear, regret, and longing within him had been given a voice, a form.
"What eats my soul...?" he repeated quietly, feeling his defenses crumble.
The knight nodded, her tone grave. "Yes, and if you wish to know my name—if you truly wish to wield this new version of me—then you must confront the rust that corrodes your soul,"
Jaune's brows knitted together, struggling to understand. "How?" he asked.
A faint smile played beneath her visor, almost teasing. "It's simple," she said. "Spar with it... as you used to,"
"Used to?" Jaune echoed, confused by her cryptic words.
The ground beneath him shifted, and suddenly the forest faded away. The red hues of Forever Fall were replaced by the dim glow of city lights. He looked around, his heart pounding as the familiarity of this place hit him. They were now atop a rooftop under a starless night sky, illuminated only by the soft glow of Vale in the distance. The chill in the air, the distant hum of the city—it was unmistakable.
Jaune's heart sank as he recognized the rooftop from his days at Beacon. This was where he'd trained late into the night, sharpening his skills with endless hours of sparring. And it was here that he'd sparred with-
"Hello again!" a voice called out, bright and cheerful.
Jaune froze, the voice cutting through him like a blade.
Jaune turned slowly, every muscle taut with dread. His mind screamed at him not to look back, not to confront what he feared was waiting just behind him. His heart pounded, praying it wasn't her, begging for anyone else—any face, any memory but hers. Yet beneath his fear, beneath the churning grief and guilt, there was a deep part of him that yearned to see her again, an ache that had never left, a need so strong it overpowered his terror.
And so, despite himself, he turned fully, casting his gaze to where the knight had stood just moments before.
She was gone.
In her place was someone he hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime.
His heart caught in his throat. Standing before him was Pyrrha Nikos, just as he remembered her. Her soft, serene expression, the gentle kindness that lit her emerald eyes, her crimson hair pulled back into the familiar ponytail that swayed slightly in the night breeze.
She looked exactly as she had before, dressed in her battle armor, her bronze shield Akoúo̱ strapped to her arm, and her spear Miló held firmly in her hand. She was whole, radiant, and achingly real.
Jaune's chest tightened, his mind reeling. He knew it was her, he felt it in his bones, and yet... he also knew it was impossible. She was gone, her life stolen from her in a moment of selfless bravery, a memory that haunted his every breath.
And yet... here she was.
"Pyrrha...?" he breathed, his voice trembling, laced with disbelief and sorrow.
He could feel the wave of emotions crashing within him—grief, guilt, and a flickering joy he couldn't contain. He didn't know whether to reach out to her or turn away.
Jaune barely had a moment to react. Pyrrha lunged at him, her speed like a striking viper, Miló gleaming as she swung to strike. Instinct kicked in, and he raised his shield just in time, the clash of metal reverberating through the air as he deflected her slash.
He took a quick breath and jabbed forward with his sword, hoping to catch her off guard. But Pyrrha moved with effortless grace, stepping to the side, his blade slicing through empty air. Her eyes narrowed, and she countered with a quick jab of her own, but he twisted, parrying her blow with a flick of his sword.
Without wasting a second, he followed up, aiming a slash at her chest. Pyrrha's reflexes were as sharp as ever; she raised Miló, blocking his strike. Their weapons locked, the scrape of steel filling the silence, and for a moment, they were locked in a battle of sheer strength.
"You've improved," Pyrrha noted with a slight smile. Her voice held a bitter edge. "If only you'd fought like this before... maybe then I wouldn't have had to face Cinder alone."
Her words struck deeper than any blade could, a pang of guilt flooding his heart. His grip on Crocea Mors faltered, and that momentary hesitation was all she needed. With a swift, brutal movement, she bashed him across the face with her shield. Stars burst before his eyes as he staggered back, struggling to regain his footing as dizziness washed over him.
Pyrrha's eyes glinted with cold determination. She pulled Miló back, then thrust forward with deadly precision, her blade piercing his stomach. A sharp, searing pain shot through him, stealing his breath away. It was agony, raw and visceral, a haunting reminder of the first time he had felt that pain—the moment he thought he would die.
He gasped, his vision blurring, but Pyrrha didn't relent. With a steady, unyielding force, she drove her blade deeper, her gaze unflinching. With a merciless twist, Pyrrha extended Miló into its full spear form, the weapon's length shifting and elongating in her grip. With one swift, brutal shove, she drove it deeper into Jaune's torso, sending him staggering backward. The pain was blinding, his body instinctively twisting against the spear's unyielding edge. His feet found no purchase, and his vision spun as he realized he was teetering over the edge.
His heart pounded, and he fought against the helpless sensation as he clung to Miló, trying to brace himself. But Pyrrha's strength held him suspended over the rooftop, her spear piercing through him, leaving him dangling just above the sheer drop. The only thing keeping him from plunging into the darkness below was her unrelenting hold on the weapon that now bound them together.
Pyrrha clicked her tongue, a sound of disdain that echoed in the stillness of the rooftop. "What a shame..." she said, her voice dripping with disappointment as she looked at him with a mix of disgust and pity. "Still not good enough. You might die here tonight, but then again, you should've died instead of me, right?"
Her words struck Jaune like a physical blow, each syllable laden with the weight of past regrets. The sad tone in her voice twisted the knife deeper as if she were not just mocking him but holding a mirror to all his insecurities.
A fiery glare erupted in Jaune's eyes, and he felt his grip on Crocea Mors tighten involuntarily. Despite the agonizing pain radiating from the wound in his stomach, anger flared within him, igniting a fierce rebellion against the guilt she wielded like a weapon.
But the voices in his head roared louder, drowning out his defiance.
"Pyrrha never believed in you!"
"Liar!"
"Everyone would be better off if you had died!"
"Pyrrha should have lived!"
"No one needed you!"
"You failed her! Failure!"
"Fraud!"
"You're still weak!"
Pyrrha held him suspended over the edge, her expression flat and unreadable, as if she were watching a distant scene rather than the struggle of the boy she once cared for. The cold metal of Miló pressed against Jaune's body, a harsh reminder of the pain that coursed through him.
"It's a good thing you died," she said, her voice devoid of warmth. "Ren, Nora, and the others are better off without you." Her words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and a hint of finality.
For a fleeting moment, all the fight drained from Jaune. He felt hollow, as if the very essence of his will had been siphoned away by the poison of Pyrrha's words. A heavy weight settled in his chest, and the truth behind her cruel accusations began to pierce through the fog of his thoughts. Those words—those gut-wrenching words—had always lurked in the shadows of his mind, gnawing at him like a relentless predator.
His vision blurred and darkened as he struggled to look at the figure before him, a shadow of the girl he once knew. This Pyrrha was a stranger; the kind-hearted warrior he admired was nowhere to be found. She had always been the light in his life, a beacon of hope and encouragement. She had never spoken with malice, nor had she ever cast him aside in disdain. In his heart, he had always believed she saw something in him that he couldn't see himself. But now, as he faced her with mounting despair, the hateful glare in her emerald eyes shattered that belief.
The words she spoke were like daggers, cutting deeper than any blade could. "You failed to save me." Each syllable struck him like a thunderclap, reverberating through the depths of his being.
Then the echo of the knight's voice resurfaced in his mind.
"...You must confront the rust that corrodes your soul,"
Jaune's thoughts spiraled as he wrestled with the implications of that statement. Was this the fight he had to endure to wield his Zanpakuto? To uncover the new name of the sword once known as Crocea Mors?
But as he stood there, hanging over the edge of despair, questions raced through his mind like wild horses. Was this manifestation of Pyrrha truly the rust gnawing at his soul? But why did it take her form? He thought he had come to terms with her choice in Argus. He had believed he had accepted her death and honored her memory, so why was she here now? Why did she loom over him as a specter of doubt, regurgitating the very insecurities that haunted him?
Why her? Why those words? Why now?
Suddenly, clarity struck him like a brick wall, crashing down on his tumultuous thoughts. The Pyrrha standing before him was not the Pyrrha he had loved and lost; she was a cruel manifestation of his own regrets. She was the embodiment of his doubts, his insecurities, and the guilt that tormented him daily. This twisted apparition had taken her form to torment him further, to exploit the deep-seated grief that still clung to his heart like a dark shroud.
The realization hit Jaune with a surge of clarity. If this wasn't truly Pyrrha—if this was only his own doubts, insecurities, and guilt wearing her face to crush him beneath a wave of self-hate—then he could no longer let them hold power over him. He would not let the darkness within drive him into the ground again.
With newfound resolve, Jaune grabbed onto Miló, gritting his teeth as he pulled himself closer to the false Pyrrha, pain coursing through him with every inch he closed. "Y-You're... not really her..." he growled, his voice raw but unwavering.
The false Pyrrha's eyes widened in shock, disbelief flashing across her face. "Impossible..." she muttered, her grip loosening as his defiance began to break through her illusion.
Pushing past the agony that tore through his body, Jaune inched his way back to solid ground, forcing his feet to find purchase on the edge of the rooftop once more. He locked eyes with the fake Pyrrha, his grip tightening around her helmeted head as he thrust his forehead against hers in a powerful headbutt. The impact echoed in the silent night as she staggered backward, clutching her face in pain, her form flickering with instability.
Jaune tore the spear from his body, and as he did, a strange warmth filled him, healing the wound. He rose to his full height, determination blazing in his eyes as he watched the image of Pyrrha's face begin to splinter and crack, tiny fractures spreading across her visage like glass. Piece by piece, her appearance crumbled away, until the false image shattered completely, leaving Jaune face-to-face with... himself.
Standing before him, wearing his armor, was a mirrored version of himself. The copy's face twisted with a scowl of anger and resentment. "How?" the reflection snarled, its eyes blazing with defiance. "How did you see through me?"
Jaune steadied his breath, his grip firm on Crocea Mors as he glared back at his own reflection. "Because I know," he began, voice steady and sure. "The only person who would hate me this much for what happened to Pyrrha is... me."
The mirrored Jaune let out a snarl of frustration, fists clenching. "You failed her! You were weak, and she died because of it!" The reflection's voice was sharp and venomous, every word laced with bitterness.
Jaune met his double's furious gaze, no longer afraid of the painful truth it represented. "Maybe I was weak then," he admitted, his voice soft but unyielding. "But I've fought too hard to let that failure keep haunting me. I can't change what happened to her... But I can make sure her sacrifice wasn't in vain,"
The Copy's eyes blazed with fury as it snarled, "Damn you!" Its voice echoed with venomous intensity. "I won't let you forget! Never!" It screamed, seething with anger.
It seized Miló, charging at Jaune with blinding speed and a murderous glare. But Jaune's mind was steady, focused. He sidestepped the attack with calm precision and drove his blade forward, piercing the Copy's chest. The mirrored Jaune gasped in shock, the fight draining from his eyes as he staggered, held captive by Jaune's piercing gaze.
The Copy's own glare smoldered with resentment, even as its form began to corrode, rust spreading over its armor and flesh like it was decaying. It reached out, clutching Jaune's chest plate with a weakening grip, its body now rusting from the legs up. In a voice filled with a fading, desperate rage, it hissed, "Do you really think this is enough to get rid of me?" Its legs crumbled away into dust, but it still clung on, dragging itself closer, inches from Jaune's face.
"Do you think defeating me here will somehow erase your guilt?" The Copy spat, rust chipping from its cracked lips as it sneered. "You think it'll help you forget how you let her die, how you failed her?"
Jaune met the accusation head-on, his voice steady and unwavering. "No, I'll never forget, I know I wasn't strong enough, that I couldn't be there to fight alongside her... and that regret—it's a part of me," His hand gripped his sword tightly, pressing forward. "But I can't let the pain of that failure hold me back any longer, I can't let you hold me back,"
The Copy laughed, a hollow, mocking sound that rattled like chains as its torso began to break away, the rust consuming it from the waist up. "So what's your grand plan, then?" It sneered, its voice now more fragile, almost pleading. "That blade of yours, your so-called Zanpakuto... she'll never let you wield her fully unless you destroy me. She said so herself."
Jaune tightened his grip on his sword, his voice calm yet filled with a fierce resolve. "Then I'm fine with that, I know I can't erase you completely—you're part of me," He told the copy. "So go on, stay there in the back of my mind, whisper every terrible thing you want, remind me of how I was weak, how I failed when it mattered do your worst,"
He took a breath, the pain in his chest mingling with newfound clarity, as he continued to watch the copy rot away.
"Because every word, every reminder, will only push me to be stronger, to prove to myself that I can be better, I'll make sure her sacrifice wasn't for nothing," Jaune continued. "She believed in me, even when I couldn't believe in myself... Pyrrha wouldn't want us to be trapped in guilt, hating ourselves, she'd want us to grow, to fight, to keep moving forward,"
The Copy's furious expression melted into something unreadable, a silent understanding mixed with resentment as it held Jaune's gaze one last time. "Hmph," it scoffed, a faint smirk on its disintegrating lips. "Fine... live with it, then, see if you're strong enough to bear it, you've always been an idiot who bites off more then he can chew,"
Jaune smirked at his mirror image, undeterred. "Yeah, maybe... but we're an idiot who also keeps getting back up, no matter how hard we're knocked down," His tone was unwavering, carrying the strength he had reclaimed from this confrontation.
The copy gave a slow, resigned shake of its head, a strange glint of acceptance flickering in its eyes. "Guess we'll keep pushing on, then... But don't think this is over,"
Without warning, the copy's form began to rust away and a dark, corroded circle blossomed at the center of Jaune's chest plate, like a scar left to remind him of the fight within. The mirror image's body corroded and broke into pieces, but its head lingered, hovering in the air, that sinister smile never fading.
"But one day, Jaune, we'll lose everything," it hissed, the voice haunting and cold. "And when that day comes... we'll finally get what we deserve,"
Jaune's expression turned stoic, eyes hardened. "Maybe," he conceded. "But if that day comes, it won't be anytime soon... We've got a lot left to do,"
The copy's eyes narrowed, as though making a final, silent promise. "Only time will tell..." Its voice dropped to a haunting whisper, carrying a warning as its image disintegrated into flecks of rust and shadow. "But I'll see you soon..."
The final words echoed around him, fading slowly, yet leaving an indelible mark in the air. When it had disappeared entirely, Jaune felt an eerie stillness settle within him. He took a deep breath, his hand resting over the rusted circle on his chest, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering uncertainty.
But in his heart, he knew he'd faced down a shadow that could no longer control him. It might always be there, whispering in the dark recesses of his mind, but he had chosen to move forward despite it.
Without warning, the rooftop crumbled beneath him, scattering memories of late-night training sessions with Pyrrha into the air like shards of glass. As he plunged through the collapsing scene, Jaune was swallowed by an ocean of darkness. The familiar weight of his old armor melted away, replaced by the lightness of his Shihakusho, and Crocea Mors transformed back into the katana now strapped at his side.
He floated in the void, eyes closing momentarily, letting himself drift in the quiet vastness. But when he reopened them, the darkness had dissipated. He found himself once more standing in the Forever Fall forest clearing, facing the female knight clad in her ancient, rusted armor.
The knight tilted her head, her voice low and steady. "So, you confronted the rust corroding our soul, didn't you?"
Jaune took a deep breath, nodding. "I did, but... I couldn't destroy it, I don't think I'll ever truly get rid of it," he admitted. "But I've accepted that it doesn't have to control me, I won't let it weigh me down like it did before—not back in Haven or Argus! I'll keep pushing forward, just like I tried to in Atlas,"
The knight studied him in silence, her expression shifting slightly, as if she were seeing something new within him. "And you're at peace with that rust lingering on your soul?" she asked. "You accept that this guilt, this wound you bear, might never heal? That it might remain a sickness bound to you forever?"
Jaune nodded firmly. "I am," he replied, his voice calm. "Maybe someday, it'll fade... But until then, I won't let it drag me back down, I'll carry it, but I'll carry it without letting it own me,"
"That's all I ask of you... Jaune." She said as she slowly nodded, the ancient helmet of her armor groaning softly with the movement. "I'll give you my name, you've somewhat earned it, but should you wish to get stronger, should you wish to step into the next stage of power... I will not make it easy, I will force you to move on and confront that Rust that stains your soul,"
"That's fine I guess," Jaune replied, his eyes narrowing at the female knight.
"So, Jaune Arc," she began, each word weighted with meaning, "Are you truly ready to hear my name? To carry this new version of me—a strength forged not only from our perseverance but from the rusted, weathered parts of our soul?"
Jaune took a steady breath, letting every ounce of the moment sink in. He squared his shoulders and met her eyes with a fierce, unwavering determination. "Yes, I am," he replied, voice calm yet unbreakable. "Please, tell me your name, and I promise you, I won't forget it... Not now, not ever again,"
A soft smile curled under the knights helmet, as she approached Jaune and rested her hands on the hilt of his sword, and looked at him in the eyes, and when she did, Jaune finally saw through the eye slits of her helmet and his eyes widened when he saw her eyes.
bright green eyes looked back at him, and his own eyes widened as he couldn't help but recognize those eyes.
However, before he could say another word, the knight spoke. "Very well," she intoned, her voice both gentle and resolute, "my name is-"
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As Jaune's eyes fluttered open, the world around him slowly sharpened from a blurry haze. The first thing he noticed was the warm golden rays of sunlight streaming through the trees. He squinted, groaning softly as the brightness pierced his drowsy state.
"Captain! He's waking up!" a familiar voice called, tinged with relief.
Jaune's ears registered the sound before his mind placed it, his thoughts sluggish as he struggled to focus. Recognizing the voice at last, he murmured, "Isane..."
When his vision finally cleared, the gentle yet concerned face of Lieutenant Isane Kotetsu came into view, peering down at him with a soft smile.
"How long... how long was I out?" Jaune croaked, his voice hoarse as he tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness kept him grounded.
"About fifteen minutes," another voice replied, calm and soothing.
Jaune turned his head toward the source, his gaze landing on Captain Retsu Unohana. Her serene demeanor was as unwavering as ever, her soft smile radiating reassurance.
"Welcome back, Jaune," she said with a slight nod, her tone warm yet composed.
Jaune offered her a faint smile in return. "Hello, Captain..."
As he adjusted his position slightly, Jaune felt something unusual beneath him—a soft, uneven surface that wasn't the hard ground he expected. His brows furrowed in confusion, and he looked back up at Isane.
"Uh... What exactly am I laying on?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Isane's gaze flickered down at Jaune, her brow furrowing in confusion as she processed his question. For a moment, she seemed uncertain, but then her eyes widened with sudden realization. Her face quickly flushed a deep crimson, and she averted her gaze, muttering something under her breath.
"What was that?" Jaune asked, tilting his head slightly, his curiosity piqued.
Isane's blush deepened, and she looked as if she wanted to sink into the floor. Taking a deep breath, she managed to stammer out her response, this time loud enough for him to hear. "M-my... lap," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jaune blinked, the words taking a moment to sink in. When they did, his eyes widened, and a bright blush spread across his face. "W-wait, what?!" he exclaimed, sitting up so quickly he almost lost his balance. Turning to face her, he waved his hands frantically. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine!" Isane interrupted hastily, her hands waving in a similar frantic motion. "Halfway through your meditation, you fell over, but I caught you! Captain Unohana told me to just leave you like that, and I—I wanted to make sure you were comfortable!" she explained in a rush, her words tumbling over one another.
Jaune's expression twisted with guilt. "Still, it must've been uncomfortable for you! I shouldn't have—"
"It's alright! Really!" Isane insisted, her voice growing firmer despite the redness still coloring her cheeks. "I didn't mind!"
From where she stood, Captain Unohana observed the exchange with an amused glint in her eyes. Her soft, melodic chuckle broke through the flustered atmosphere. "It's heartwarming to see you both getting along so well," she remarked, her tone teasing. "But perhaps you could save the flirting for later. We do have more pressing matters to address."
"Captain!" Isane squeaked, her blush intensifying as she turned toward her superior, her expression a mix of embarrassment and indignation.
Unohana's serene smile grew, her eyes glinting with curiosity and expectation as she turned her attention to Jaune. "Jaune," she began, her voice gentle yet probing, "have you done it? Have you learned the name of your Zanpakutō?"
Jaune met her gaze, a small yet proud smile spreading across his lips. "I did," he replied, his tone carrying a quiet sense of accomplishment.
Unohana's smile widened slightly, her interest clearly piqued. "Then... would you mind showing us your Zanpakutō?" she asked, her calm demeanor masking the intensity of her curiosity.
Jaune gave a firm nod, reaching for the sheathed sword at his side. The room grew still as he wrapped his fingers around the hilt, drawing the blade slowly. As he did, his voice rang out with quiet authority, carrying the weight of his connection to the spirit of his Zanpakutō.
"Plague... Ōnetsubyō," Jaune intoned, his words resonating with power.
As the blade cleared its sheath, it began to transform. What was once a standard katana shifted into a beautifully crafted saber. The golden guard, shaped like a fleur-de-lis, gleamed in the light, while the handle's deep blue hue added a regal touch to the weapon. The transformation was seamless yet awe-inspiring, a testament to the bond Jaune had forged with his Zanpakutō.
Isane's eyes widened as she took in the weapon. The intricate design and elegant form reminded her of Lieutenant Sasakibe's Shikai. However, she quickly noted the differences: while Sasakibe's Shikai lacked an edge and ended in a sharp point, Jaune's had a fully formed cutting blade, hinting at a unique functionality.
"Amazing..." Isane murmured, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "What does your Shikai do?"
Unohana stepped closer, her gaze unwavering as she examined the blade. "I'm curious as well," she added, her tone still composed but tinged with professional interest. "I'll need to include its abilities in my report to the Captain-Commander."
Jaune shifted his grip slightly, holding the saber in a relaxed yet deliberate stance. He turned to Isane, offering her a reassuring smile. "Of course," he said, his voice steady.
Jaune stood before Captain Unohana and Lieutenant Isane, explaining the intricacies of his Shikai with a steady voice. As he delved into the details, Isane's eyes widened in astonishment, her shock evident with each revelation about the blade's unique and strategic abilities.
While Isane processed his words, Unohana remained composed, her serene smile never wavering. She gracefully wrote down every detail in the report she was preparing for the Captain-Commander, her pen gliding smoothly over the paper.
"You've made excellent progress, Jaune," Unohana remarked.
Jaune smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Captain," he said, bowing his head slightly.
Unbeknownst to the trio, a shadowed figure observed their conversation from the open window of a nearby patient room.
"Interesting~," a smooth, amused voice murmured.
Seated alone in the dimly lit room, his arm wrapped in fresh bandages, was none other than Tokinada Tsunayashiro.
The nobleman's lips curved into a sly smile as his sharp eyes lingered on the blonde teen outside.
"It was quite the chore making my way here just to catch a glimpse of the man from another world," Tokinada mused to himself, his tone laced with sardonic amusement. He flexed his injured hand slightly, recalling how he had deliberately inflicted the wound to justify his visit to the Fourth Division. "I even had to cut my own hand for this... but it was worth it,"
His gaze never wavered from Jaune, his interest deepening with every word he had overheard about the boy's unusual circumstances. Like many of the upper echelons of Soul Society, Tokinada had heard the whispers of the ryoka from another world—a young man wielding powers foreign to the Gotei 13, who would be somehow integrated into their ranks.
"An otherworldly ryoka with such... peculiar abilities," Tokinada murmured, his smile growing wider. "Aura, Semblance, and now a Shikai with such a powerful ability... How delightfully unique~"
The nobleman leaned back in his bed, the faint creak of the wood underscoring the silence of the room. His expression turned more sinister, the gleam in his eyes betraying his intentions.
"Oh yes," he said softly, his voice dripping with anticipation. "You'll be quite interesting to watch, Jaune Arc,"
As the trio continued their discussion outside, completely unaware of his presence, Tokinada's mind churned with schemes and possibilities. The game had just begun, and Tokinada Tsunayashiro loved nothing more than playing with intriguing new pieces on the board.
With the tests concluded and her meticulous report on Jaune's abilities finalized, Captain Unohana looked up from her desk, her calm demeanor ever-present. She carefully rolled up the parchment, securing it with a silk ribbon, before turning to Isane and Jaune.
"Lieutenant," Unohana said with a gentle smile, "while I deliver this report to the Captain-Commander, I'd like you to show Jaune around the Fourth Division. He'll need to familiarize himself with our facilities should he require our services in the future."
Isane straightened her posture, nodding respectfully. "Of course, Captain," she replied, her tone dutiful.
"Thank you, Isane," Unohana said warmly before turning her attention to Jaune. "I'll leave you in my lieutenant's capable hands. Please don't hesitate to ask her if you have any questions."
"I will, Captain," Jaune replied with a small bow, his voice steady but polite.
With that, Isane gestured for Jaune to follow her, leading him out of the quiet garden and into the bustling corridors of the Fourth Division. The soothing scent of medicinal herbs lingered in the air as they passed by various treatment rooms, healing wards, and storage areas for medical supplies.
"This is the main ward," Isane began, her voice taking on a more relaxed tone as she guided Jaune through the expansive building. "It's where we treat most of our patients. The Fourth Division handles everything from minor injuries to major emergencies. Our goal is to ensure the health and readiness of the Gotei 13,"
Jaune glanced around, nodding thoughtfully as he observed the orderly environment. "It's impressive," he admitted. "Everything seems so organized, I didn't realize how much work goes into keeping everyone in shape,"
Isane smiled, a hint of pride in her expression. "It's a lot of responsibility, but it's rewarding! Knowing we're helping others gives our work meaning,"
Meanwhile, back in the garden, Unohana began her journey to the First Division. The soft rustling of leaves accompanied her as she exited the serene greenery, stepping into the sunlight-dappled pathways of the Seireitei. Her expression remained serene, but her purposeful stride conveyed the importance of her task.
The report she carried wasn't just about Jaune's Shikai—it documented the unique abilities of a ryoka from another world, a subject that had already sparked interest and speculation among the Soul Society's higher-ups. As she made her way past the towering white walls and wooden bridges, Unohana reflected on the implications of Jaune's presence.
Arriving at the grand entrance of the First Division headquarters, she was greeted by two stoic guards who bowed respectfully before allowing her inside. Unohana's footsteps echoed softly against the polished wooden floors as she approached the Captain-Commander's chamber, ready to deliver her findings.
As Unohana stepped into the chambers of Captain-Commander Yamamoto, the quiet stillness of the room enveloped her. The faint scent of incense lingered in the air, and the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the paper-screen windows highlighted the ancient wisdom etched into the walls.
At the center of it all sat Yamamoto, the weight of centuries resting heavily upon him yet doing little to diminish his commanding presence. He was seated at his desk, alone, meticulously working through a stack of documents. Despite his age, there was a sharpness in his posture, a reminder of the formidable leader he had always been.
"Greetings, Genryūsai," Unohana said warmly, offering a respectful smile as she entered.
Yamamoto looked up from his paperwork, his weathered face softening slightly at the sight of his oldest friend and ally. "Hello to you as well, Retsu," he replied, his deep voice steady but carrying a hint of familiarity.
Unohana approached the desk, her movements graceful and deliberate. She held out a tightly rolled scroll, bound with a crimson ribbon. "My report on Jaune Arc and his capabilities," she said simply, placing it in front of him.
"Ah, thank you," Yamamoto said, his gnarled hands reaching for the scroll. With a deliberate motion, he unrolled it, his eyes scanning the detailed report Unohana had compiled.
He read silently, his expression thoughtful. The report detailed Jaune's rapid mastery of foundational Kidō techniques, his competent Zanjutsu skills, and most notably, his swift achievement in learning the name of his Zanpakutō—an extraordinary feat that even seasoned Shinigami sometimes struggled with.
Yamamoto's brow furrowed slightly as he considered the implications. For most, such rapid growth was nearly unheard of. Only a select few prodigies, like Ichigo Kurosaki or Kisuke Urahara, had demonstrated similar aptitude. Yet Yamamoto sensed something different about Jaune's progression. It wasn't the reckless power of a Visored like Ichigo, nor the intellectual brilliance of a mind like Urahara's.
No, this was something else entirely. Yamamoto suspected that Jaune's accelerated growth stemmed not from genius or rare circumstance, but from the unique spiritual dynamics of his world. The people of Jaune's world appeared to possess a profound and deeply ingrained connection to their souls—manifested through concepts like Aura and Semblance. These abilities, while foreign to the Soul Society, suggested a different yet equally potent method of harnessing spiritual energy.
"I'm impressed by how quickly the boy has adapted to our world," Yamamoto said, his voice carrying a gruff but thoughtful tone as he stroked his long beard. "Such progress is uncommon, if he continues on this trajectory, he'll undoubtedly rise through the ranks, that said... It seems I'll need to assign him to one of the divisions best suited to his skills—likely the Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, Eleventh, or Thirteenth,"
He paused, considering each possibility carefully, but before he could settle on a decision, Unohana stepped forward, a serene yet determined expression on her face.
"Actually, Genryūsai," she began, her voice calm but firm, "I would humbly request that you assign Arc-san to my division."
Yamamoto's eyes, sharp and discerning despite his age, shifted to Unohana. One bushy eyebrow arched slightly in surprise. "Your division?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity. "Why?"
Unohana met his gaze steadily, her hands clasped before her. "I'm sure you are aware, Genryūsai, that the number of skilled fighters within the Fourth Division has dwindled significantly in recent years, while our primary duty is to heal the injured, I believe it is unwise to neglect the combat readiness of our members entirely, a healer who cannot defend themselves, or others in times of crisis, is a vulnerability," She let her words settle for a moment before continuing. "Arc-san's rapid adaptation to our techniques, particularly his proficiency in Zanjutsu and Kidō, makes him an ideal candidate to help address this issue, I am also curious to observe how his unique power—what he calls a Semblance—interacts with our abilities, It may open up avenues for further growth, not just for him, but for the division as a whole,"
Yamamoto leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable as he considered her argument. It was logical, even strategic, yet there was an undercurrent in Unohana's tone that gave him pause. A subtle hint of something more—something rooted in her past.
"Retsu," he said after a moment, his voice heavy with meaning, "you don't intend to return to your old ways, do you?"
Unohana's serene smile never wavered, though her tone took on a faintly sinister undertone as she replied, "Why, Captain-Commander… I don't know what you're talking about," Her voice was calm, yet it carried an almost playful edge that hinted at the depths of her true nature. "I am Retsu Unohana, Captain of the Fourth Division and a healer, What "old ways" could I possibly return to?"
Yamamoto's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, sharp and discerning, but he chose not to press the matter further. With a slight nod, he said, "Of course, my apologies," He shifted the conversation back to the topic at hand. "But tell me, Retsu, do you wish for Jaune Arc to join your ranks simply to bolster your division with another fighter?"
Unohana's expression softened, though her calm demeanor remained as steady as ever. "Not entirely," she replied. "While his presence as a capable fighter is certainly a factor, I also hope he might serve as an inspiration to others within my division—particularly in the art of Zanjutsu, with your permission, I would like to appoint him as a co-Lieutenant alongside my current one, Isane Kotetsu,"
Yamamoto's brow furrowed slightly. "A co-Lieutenant?" he repeated. "That is a rare arrangement, with Captain Muguruma being the only one at the moment with his lieutenants Shūhei Hisagi and Mashiro Kuna, why would you grant him such a rank, especially given how new he is to the Gotei 13?"
Unohana clasped her hands in front of her, her smile unwavering. "It is part of my strategy to reignite a sense of discipline and determination among my subordinates, Jaune Arc's rapid growth and unique abilities have the potential to inspire others, placing him in a prominent position while he is still learning our ways will show my division that improvement and excellence are always attainable," she explained. she then paused, her eyes briefly taking on a more contemplative look. "For instance, my current Third Seat has all but abandoned his training in Zanjutsu, it has led me to wonder just how many others within my division have allowed their combat skills to atrophy, I believe Jaune's presence could serve as a catalyst to reverse that trend,"
Yamamoto stroked his beard thoughtfully, the pieces of Unohana's plan falling into place in his mind. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "I see… you wish to light a fire under them,"
Unohana inclined her head, her voice calm yet resolute. "Precisely," she said. "The Fourth Division may prioritize healing, but we cannot afford to be complacent in other areas, times of peace are often fleeting, and we must be ready for whatever may come, as proved with Ichigo Kurosaki's invasion alongside the Winter War,"
Yamamoto nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the implications of Unohana's request. "I'll permit it, however, the boy must keep up his training if he is to maintain such a position," he added with a hint of finality. "I don't wish for him to fall into the same fate as that lieutenant in the Second Division," he continued, a faint edge to his words.
Unohana chuckled softly, her lips curling into a knowing smile at the subtle jab aimed at the Second Division's lieutenant. "I can agree with that sentiment," she replied, her tone warm but with an undercurrent of quiet amusement. "In fact, I was planning to recommend that Jaune train in Zanjutsu with members of the Eleventh Division," she added, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and strategy.
Yamamoto's brow furrowed, a touch of concern entering his expression at the mention of the Eleventh Division. "Are… you sure that is a good idea?" he asked, his mind immediately flashing to the unpredictable nature of Captain Zaraki and his division, known for their wild and brutal fighting styles.
Unohana's smile remained, calm and reassuring, yet there was a subtle steel in her gaze. "I will personally ensure that Captain Zaraki does not engage with Arc-san until I have given my consent," she said, her tone making it clear that she would not allow Jaune to be thrown into the chaos of Zaraki's methods without careful consideration.
Yamamoto regarded her for a moment, the weight of her words settling in. "Very well," he said at last, a reluctant approval in his voice. "You may proceed as you see fit with the boy's training, but I trust you understand the responsibility that comes with it,"
Unohana bowed slightly, acknowledging his words. "Of course, Genryūsai, I will be careful with his development and ensure that he grows in a manner befitting his potential,"
With a final nod of agreement, Yamamoto shifted his attention to the matter at hand. He summoned one of the Inner Court Troops. In a blur of motion, one of the troopers appeared before him, kneeling in a single, fluid motion.
"You called, sir?" the officer asked, his posture unwavering in its respect.
Yamamoto's voice was firm as he issued the command. "Pass this message to every Captain and Lieutenant of the Gotei 13: The Ryoka, Jaune Arc, will henceforth be promoted to Co-Lieutenant of the Fourth Division, inform them immediately,"
The Troop nodded without hesitation. "Yes, sir!" he said, his voice resolute. With a sharp flash-step, he disappeared from the room, his mission clear.
Unohana smiled warmly at her old friend, giving a respectful bow. "Thank you, Genryūsai," she said, her voice sincere. "I will ensure that Lieutenant Arc becomes a truly exceptional Shinigami."
Yamamoto chuckled softly, a rare glint of amusement in his otherwise stoic eyes. "Of that, I have no doubt," he replied with a knowing nod.
With that, the matter of Jaune Arc's place in the Gotei 13 was settled. It was now official—he would be a member of the Gotei 13, joining the ranks of the Fourth Division as a co-Lieutenant. The decision had been made, and the path ahead was clear.
However, Jaune's journey was far from over. As the shadows of potential threats loomed ever closer, the young man would soon find that his trials were only beginning. The challenges of this new world, and the dangers that lay beyond the horizon, would test him in ways he could not yet imagine...
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And here you have it! Chapter 3!
I hope you all enjoyed it and are eagerly waiting for what comes next, because trust me! Jaune's training arc in the Soul Society is gonna be crazy! Jaune's going to be seeing just how much he's gonna have to train if he hopes to keep his position and grow stronger!
Anyway, Thank you all for waiting and I hope you have a good day/night!