When Kisaragi Akira finally regained consciousness, the surroundings had already changed.
Gone was the familiar, monotonous ceiling of the dojo. In its place stood a pristine white wall, decorated with simple, elegant murals.The air carried a faint, refreshing fragrance, mingled with the persistent tang of disinfectant.
Pain seared through every fiber of his body. Even the slightest movement made it feel as if his skin and flesh were being ripped apart.
Akira tried lifting his right hand—but it was pinned firmly under something he couldn't identify.
"Is that Sousuke here to watch over me?" he murmured."Truly a good friend… when Shizune isn't around, I guess only…"
He turned his head—and froze.
Before him loomed a massive figure, muscles bulging to unnatural extremes.His expression stiffened instantly.Cold sweat slid down his forehead.
Akira's body trembled violently, his face contorting as he struggled to pull his arm free from Tessai Ishizai's enormous grip.
"Kisaragi, you're awake?"
Tessai blinked, startled, and instinctively released his hand. But Akira, moving with too much force, toppled backward off the hospital bed.
The loud crash instantly drew the attention of patrolling squad members.
Soon, another familiar figure entered the room—a pristine white uniform, a calm, composed presence, and a delicate, gentle smile gracing her refined features.
"In less than half a year since enrolling, this is already your fourth visit to the General Medical Ward."
Retsu Unohana approached Akira's bed, moving with practiced grace as she carefully repositioned him, tidied the tangled bandages, and smoothed out the rumpled sheets.
Seeing someone attend to him, Tessai offered a polite nod before leaving. Another student awaited his care.
Today had been extraordinarily unlucky. The soon-to-be head of Kidō had somehow produced two absolute disasters.One mishandled the Scarlet Cannon, instantly scorching his own face.The other—more terrifying—had detonated the Scarlet Cannon inside his own body.
Geniuses might think alike, but fools had their own unique styles of stupidity.
Tessai could not fathom how anyone would dare trigger a high-level Kidō like the Scarlet Cannon inside themselves.No—he caught himself before being led astray.The real question was: why would anyone detonate any Kidō within their own body?
Feeling the dangerous drift of his thoughts toward Akira's logic, Tessai broke out in a cold sweat and hastened his departure from the room.
"Captain Unohana…"
Trapped in the hospital bed, Akira tried his best to appear obedient.
"With your talent, you shouldn't be making such elementary mistakes."
Unohana settled beside him, her hands pressing gently against his chest, releasing higher-level healing Kidō.
A strange, intense tingling swept through his body. Every nerve ending seemed to revolt.His face twisted as if he were rolling in a honey jar, crawling with countless invisible ants.
"This…"
"Just… an accident."
Akira gritted his teeth, struggling against the sensation while still defending himself.
"You said the same thing the last few times."
Unohana smiled gently. Her pale, elegant hands pressed over the most damaged areas of his chest, bathed in the soft glow of her healing Kidō.
Despite the reckless antics of the young Shinigami before her, she recognized the unmistakable streak of genius in his recklessness.His extraordinary physical constitution and unyielding will meant his recovery was remarkably fast.
In less than half a day, his injuries had already healed significantly.After this final session of Kidō healing, he would soon be fit to leave.
The treatment lasted nearly half an hour.As the glow of the Kidō faded, Akira realized the searing pain was gone. Only a faint warmth lingered; otherwise, he felt no discomfort.
Yet he was not elated. Instead, his brows furrowed in frustration, his expression one of someone who had just been taken advantage of.
Half an hour of hands-on healing. Her small, delicate hands had touched nearly every part of his body.Though precise and professional, it felt… like being groped by a mischievous woman.
"Treatment complete. That'll be 36,897 yen."
Unohana smiled softly."Kisaragi, will that be on credit or cash?"
Akira drew in a sharp breath.From an initial thousand yen, to a few thousand in previous visits… and now, for this treatment, this cunning woman had raised it to thirty-six thousand yen?!
Though the amount was negligible for him now, his lifelong habit of thriftiness made the act of pulling out such a sum sting painfully.
"If you can't pay, you can always join the Fourth Division."Unohana's smile softened like flowing water."My previous promise still stands. The Fourth Division will always welcome you."
Akira's mind reflexively flashed back to their previous sword duel.Nerves stretched taut, danger instincts firing at maximum frequency, death brushing close at every moment—a feeling as if he were trapped in hell itself.
He shivered instinctively and blurted,"On credit! On credit!""I'll run back and get the money, then come straight back."
Without lingering over his slight discomfort, Akira rolled out of bed and vanished from the ward in a flicker of Shunpo.
Mischievous women were terrifying.This Unohana wanted not just his money… but him too.
Unohana's smile softened as she watched him disappear, replaced by a pensive frown.After a brief moment of thought, she muttered quietly to herself:
"His spiritual body… is exceptionally strong.""And… why is there electricity in it? Is it the Zanpakutō's power? Or something else…?"
Her gaze fell slightly, and a subtle, knowing curve returned to her lips."So many secrets… it's impossible not to be curious, Kisaragi…"
Racing through the Fourth Division barracks, Akira emerged onto the street, only to find Aizome waiting.
"Since you've recovered, let's head back."
Before Akira could speak, Aizome said calmly,"This was my error. I misjudged the difficulty of imprinting the Kidō pattern.""We'll try again once I refine the method."
As he turned to return to the Spiritual Arts Academy, a smug voice called out from behind.
"Actually…"
Aizome glanced back, puzzled.
Akira's face shone with a self-satisfied grin. He raised his left hand, then flipped up his middle finger.
Aizome's expression darkened immediately.He didn't know what it meant—but it felt like a full-on mental assault.
"The Kidō pattern imprinting succeeded halfway."
Akira's smug 'I'm a genius' expression deepened as he pointed to the incomplete fiery orb mark on his middle finger.
"No need to change anything. Your idea was absolutely feasible!"