The moment the Senkaimon closed behind him, Ethan felt the difference.
Karakura's buzzing, chaotic reiryoku faded into the clean, orderly flow of Seireitei's spiritual atmosphere. The white stone corridors felt calmer… but not safer.
Not when Captain Retsu Unohana was waiting for him.
She stood in the Fourth Division courtyard, hands folded neatly, smile gentle and warm enough to make a veteran shinigami sweat. Lantern light washed over her hair, giving her an almost serene glow.
But Ethan knew better by now.
That glow was a warning label.
She opened her eyes the slightest bit as he approached.
"Welcome back, Ethan."
Her reiatsu draped over him like a warm blanket… with razor blades sewn inside.
He bowed. "Captain Unohana. Reporting from temporary field assist. Rukia Kuchiki's deployment is proceeding normally."
"Oh?" Her head tilted. "And the spiritual distortion you sensed?"
Ethan kept his face neutral. "Stabilized. Possibly ambient cross-flow. Nothing conclusive."
It was a good lie. A structured lie. A lie the Concealment Weave wrapped neatly in harmless spiritual texture.
Unohana watched him a moment.
Then she smiled.
"Good. Follow me."
Uh oh.
---
Fourth Division — Inner Training Hall
Ethan swallowed as they passed two sets of secured doors.
He'd only seen this place once — accidentally. And he'd vowed never to see it again.
The floor looked like polished stone at first glance.
But it absorbed reiatsu. The walls hummed with a stabilizing barrier. The ceiling was reinforced by symbols even Ethan's Panel couldn't fully translate.
Unohana stepped inside effortlessly.
"Take your stance."
Ethan blinked. "We're… beginning already?"
"You are behind schedule."
"I didn't know there was a schedule—"
Unohana's expression softened, which was somehow worse.
"There is always a schedule when training someone like you."
He took position, hands relaxing, breathing even. His body remembered the last time she "trained" him — when she dissected his stance, his footwork, and nearly his spine.
Unohana drew her blade a fraction of an inch.
Not enough to threaten.
Just enough to silence thought.
"Your potential is accelerating faster than your foundation," she said. "That is dangerous."
"To me?" Ethan asked.
"No," she said kindly. "To others."
Ethan felt his stomach drop.
Right.
That tracked.
Unohana gestured with her fingers — delicate, almost motherly — and reiatsu flooded the room. The ground rumbled.
"Today we begin correcting that."
---
Lesson One — Stability Under Pressure
A wave of spiritual force slammed into Ethan like a charging bull.
His knees buckled.
His ribs screamed.
His lungs compressed under weight that felt like an ocean squeezing the air out of him.
Unohana watched him without blinking.
"Stand."
He tried.
Everything in his body said no.
His spirit said try harder.
Unohana added more pressure.
"Captain—!" he choked out. "I'll— collapse!"
"Yes," she said gently. "Collapse properly."
He fell to one knee, catching himself before faceplanting.
Unohana nodded, pleased.
"Good. You maintained awareness. Again."
Her reiatsu intensified.
The floor cracked under him. His fingertips dug into stone. His vision blurred.
His Concealment Weave struggled, flickering around him.
Unohana noticed.
Of course she noticed.
But she said nothing.
"Breathe, Ethan."
He focused. Forced air in. Forced air out.
The weave stabilized again.
Unohana observed the fluctuation, filing it away behind her calm smile.
"You have learned something new," she said.
Too perceptive.
He swallowed. "A stabilization technique."
"A lie," she said gently.
Not threatened. Not angry.
Just… factual.
Ethan looked away.
Unohana didn't press. Instead, she turned slightly, letting the pressure pause.
"You will tell me when you are ready. Until then…" She raised a hand, and the training hall's seals began to glow. "Strength without stability is worthless. I will make sure you do not break if the world leans on you too hard."
Ethan managed to stand, shaking but upright.
"Thank you… Captain."
Unohana's smile warmed, almost genuinely.
"Then let us continue."
Ethan's soul trembled.
She wasn't even holding her sword.
---
Hours Later — After the Storm
Ethan lay flat on the polished floor, staring at the ceiling like it owed him money. Sweat dripped from his chin. Several parts of him hurt he didn't know had pain receptors.
Unohana knelt beside him, placing a healing hand against his chest.
Her touch was cool. Gentle. Restorative.
"You improved," she said quietly. "Not enough. But noticeably."
"Thanks… I guess…"
Unohana's expression softened in an unreadable way.
"Do not thank me yet," she said. "Tomorrow will be worse."
"…Oh good," Ethan croaked.
---
Outside the Training Hall
As she walked him to the exit, Unohana spoke without looking at him.
"That distortion from before… is it gone?"
"Yes," Ethan said automatically.
Unohana paused in the doorway, just for a heartbeat.
"…Good."
Her smile returned — soft, serene, deadly calm.
"Rest now. Tomorrow, we work on your swordsmanship."
He nearly died from breathing today.
Swordsmanship might actually kill him.
As he limped toward his quarters, Ethan muttered:
"…Ichigo better appreciate this."