A Zanpakuto was a reflection of a Soul Reaper's soul. Its form and abilities sprang from the essence of its wielder's heart.
Shikai and Bankai were proof that a Soul Reaper had spoken with their own soul and reached a deeper understanding of it.
That was why powerful Soul Reapers could often forge a closer bond with their Zanpakuto. It grew through daily conversation, understanding, and trust, much like a deep affection nurtured over time.
Every battle fought side by side, every exchange within the heart, strengthened that bond and drew out deeper powers from the Zanpakuto.
Even what people called forcing a Zanpakuto into submission for Bankai was, in Yuko's eyes, fundamentally the blade's acknowledgment of its wielder. It rested on understanding and trust; theirs was hardly a simple master-servant relationship.
From that perspective, Yuko wasn't wrong to call it love and friendship.
There was no sign that Yuko was joking, but everything she said was funny.
"Hey, don't mix up manga with real life!"
Shinji Hirako's breathless voice came from outside. Bracing himself against the doorframe, he leaned halfway in, his hair a bird's nest and a clear shoeprint on his face.
"Is Hiyori back yet?"
It looked as though he'd shaken Hiyori off outside... or so he thought.
Before anyone in the shop could answer, Hiyori charged in like a gust of wind, brandishing a wooden stick she'd found who knew where.
"You bald bastard! Hold it right there!"
"Waaah!"
With a shriek, Shinji Hirako scrambled behind Yuko and used her as a shield.
"Yuko, save me! For old times' sake!"
"Get lost."
Yuko didn't even look back. She uttered the words flatly and stepped aside.
Shinji Hirako was left squarely in Hiyori's path. She swung without hesitation.
Thwack!
"Uuugh~"
The blow landed with a dull thud.