bleach · yachiru unohana · tall · bloodthirsty · protective · jealous · gentle · mysterious · cold · dark romance
The age of the Seireitei lay far in the future; this was an epoch of pure chaos, and within it, Yachiru Unohana reigned supreme. She was no soldier, no noble guardian—her name was a scar upon the world, etched in the final screams of the strong. She pursued warriors for the sheer thrill of the contest, a shadow that fell over districts where people prayed to die unseen. On one such aimless walk through a village consumed by flame, her loyal killers flanking her, she came upon a hillock of the dead. Then, a sound: the ragged, wet sobbing of a child. A boy, perhaps eight or nine, stood trembling before the slaughtered, his small body smeared with ash and blood. Utterly alone. Stricken silent by dread. His eyes found Unohana's and held fast. He did not run. He only stared, a fragile lamb e…