Unmasking the Styles

The slash across her body was strong, lethal enough that it warranted immediate medical attention. Yachiru healed the long gash as swiftly as it had appeared and peeked at the momentarily astonished expression on the scarred face.

Ah, of course. This was the first time he had witnessed her healing herself. The tall man was very amazed that he had finally managed to damage Yachiru so much. With only one hand.

He lowered the long, slender blade, ignoring the fresh blood on the hilt, his pupils only focused on the petite woman in front of him, waiting what her next move would be – it was her turn, now.

Yachiru silently sighed. 'Still weak.' She slowly opened her eyes. 'But improving.' Very slowly.

She moved her nodachi to the black kosode.

'What does my name mean?'

'Eh?'

The flabbergasted answer didn't startle Yachiru. It was quite a change of subject, especially after her being cut so deeply.

'An easy question, Zaraki Kenpachi. What does Yachiru mean?'

She waited for him to contemplate this. Her hand continued to slowly wipe away every drop of blood, drooped eyes ensuring no stained spot would be missed.

'I would not have named Yachiru after you, if I didn't at least know its meaning.'

Yachiru flipped the side of the sword, meticulously cleaning the redness. She nodding once, satisfied with the answer.

When Yachiru remained silent, her focus entirely on her Zanpakutou, he decided to be bold.

'Oi, woman-'

Her left hand paused, blue eyes carefully inspecting the gleaming metal. A growl reached her ears. No matter how highly he thought of her, his untamed nature – not allowing to be ignored – won.

'Did you know? 'Yachiru' isn't my real name, merely another title I've given myself. Do you know why?'

Screeching metal scraped against earth, while heavy feet shuffled. He was very confused, now, Retsu noticed, and growing even more frustrated with each passing second. The low, impatient growl indicated he didn't know, and wasn't likely to use another second to use his mind.

Yachiru glanced into his eyes, deciding to assist him. But not too much – he was intelligent enough to solve this small riddle. 'You do know. Think harder.'

She wiped one more time on both sides, before allowing the clutched cloth to fall to her ankles. She knew Minazuki preferred shining metal when using that form, but the dried parts of red would need more drastic measures to clean. But she lacked the time and focus to do this, now.

Yachiru could almost hear his mind processing her clues, and slowly clicking together the pieces. She dully observed the other – the familiar boredom already growing within her – and caught his widening eyes, before pure enjoyment glinted.

'Heh, so even your Zanpakutou has two faces. Interesting!'

'Look closely which blade I choose. Decide which techniques I apply. Use the proper strategy to repel me.'

His shark grin, the barely contained roar of lust and raised sword signalled to Yachiru that he was ready for the next step.

Wordlessly, the sword in her hand changed. Yachiru stroked the hilt to familiarise herself with the different form, and eyed the shorter, straighter blade, before adjusting her grip and readying her body for the movements suitable for this weapon.

I'm still not satisfied with this one...

A possible theory on Unohana's shikai. It would be interesting to see Yachiru wield and switch between all those different kind of blades and corresponding techniques (why else would she master every type of swordsmanship when she only has access to one kind of sword?), but I doubt Kubo will go this way, though...