"Is the situation that serious?"
Yoruichi, visiting the patient, crossed her arms and furrowed her brows, her gaze fixed on Akira's right hand.
The bandages were wrapped so tightly that they resembled a dumpling.
"For ordinary Shinigami, even those who have become Captains, this is a grave injury. At minimum, amputation would be necessary for recovery." Unohana explained softly while tucking in Akira's blanket, "However, Kisaragi-kun's body is rather special, with healing abilities different from others. He just needs to stay under observation at the Coordinated Relief Station for a few months, and he should recover fully without any after-effects."
Hearing this explanation, Yoruichi's furrowed brows only deepened, her thin eyebrows nearly meeting.
She knew this guy's personality well — making him stay in a hospital room for such a long time would be like imprisonment, perhaps even worse.
"Isn't there any other treatment method?" She asked.
Unohana hesitated, then frowned, "It's not that there isn't one, but I haven't mastered it. As head of the Shihōin clan, you should know the name Kirinji Tenjirō?"
Yoruichi's eyes widened as she struck her left palm with her right fist with a crisp sound, exclaiming in sudden realization.
"You mean the Hell Springs?"
{T/N: This term refers to the two techniques created by Kirinji: White Bone Hell and Blood Pond Hell, both being a type of spring that helps heal the target.}
Unohana nodded, "The Hell Springs are an extremely advanced Kaidō technique invented by Kirinji Tenjirō, involving Reiatsu transformation. Through Reiatsu differentials, it filters out blood and injuries of those who soak in it, with effects far surpassing other healing methods. Unfortunately, due to incompatibility, I never learned it—"
Before she could finish speaking, Yoruichi had already flash-stepped away, leaving the two behind.
Unohana blinked and sighed helplessly, "Even though she's become both Clan Head and Captain, her personality remains so impetuous. Can this child really handle such heavy responsibilities?"
Just as she finished speaking, there was a knock at the door.
After receiving permission, the door slid open, and several figures entered the hospital room one after another.
Seeing who had arrived, Unohana was somewhat surprised, and even Akira's eyes widened.
"Captain-Commander Yamamoto." Unohana nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
"How is your recovery?" Genryūsai asked in his deep voice. He looked the same as usual — neither smiling nor speaking unnecessarily, his expression stern. It was as if he weren't visiting a patient but rather inspecting a prison.
"It's okay, just that my hand will be useless for..." Akira raised his bandaged hand that resembled a dumpling, greeting the old man while explaining.
Hearing this, Genryūsai's body suddenly stiffened, his expression gradually turning grim.
Strong regret welled up in his heart as countless memories played through his mind.
Could this boy's career as a Shinigami be coming to an end?
"A few months." Akira completed his unfinished sentence, waving his right hand that still had no feeling, and said rather optimistically, "I won't be able to study at the First Division during this time. Eh, teacher, why do you look so upset?"
"!!" Genryūsai's blood pressure spiked.
He had thought this young man would have to bid farewell to his career as a Shinigami forever, yet it turned out he merely needed a few months to recover. All that worry and heartache had been for nothing.
If it weren't for the need to maintain quiet in the hospital room, he would certainly give the boy an unforgettable lesson.
He'd settle accounts with him after his recovery.
Relieved there was nothing serious to worry about, he gave a few brief instructions and promptly departed. For the Captain-Commander to make time for a hospital visit during such a crucial period was already remarkable.
This demonstrated how much Genryūsai valued Akira.
Shortly after the old man left, two more visitors entered the hospital room, genuinely surprising Akira.
Ginrei Kuchiki and an unfamiliar young man.
The newcomer had handsome features and curious emerald eyes, wearing both noble's hair ornaments and the Kuchiki family's distinctive windflower silk — though his was red.
His appearance reminded Akira of someone: the genius known throughout Soul Society for defeating many rebels during the rebel war, the Kuchiki family's son-in-law, and 6th Division's 3rd Seat — Kōga Kuchiki.
Though Akira himself was called a genius, compared to Kōga, known as the Shinigami Killer, he was merely a rookie. If not for the recent Tsunayashiro rebellion, many might never have heard Akira's name.
But Kōga was different. As the main force of both the Kuchiki family and 6th Division on the rebel battlefield, he excelled in both Hakuda and Zanjutsu, truly standing among the elite Shinigami. Even Captains hesitated to face him directly.
{T/N: Just to explain that Zanjutsu, especially in this case, refers more broadly to the use of Zanpakutō itself, with all its powers and qualities. It's not just about how to swing a sword, otherwise it would be called Kenjutsu.}
Simply put, his Zanpakutō was too bizarre.
While Akira sized him up, Kōga was also studying him curiously.
From Ginrei's words, he had deduced that the young man in the hospital bed was the greatest contributor to this incident. All intelligence about Ansai Tsunayashiro had come from him.
Thanks to him, the Kuchiki family had prepared thoroughly, catching the attackers off guard and winning the war between noble families decisively.
What a good person, Kōga thought, his gaze toward Akira warming.
Noticing this goodwill, Akira gave him a strange look.
Why was this guy being so friendly without reason?
He recalled others who had shown immediate friendliness — Unohana, Yoruichi, Senjumaru... Without exception, they all had ulterior motives. And at least they were women...
Akira hurriedly shook his head, trying to banish this dangerous thought.
This was too scary...
Ginrei studied the young man before him with a puzzled expression. Despite his shrewd judgment and vast experience with people, he couldn't quite decipher what this youth was thinking.
Strange — this young man seemed to lack any trace of cunning.
"Lord Kisaragi, how are your injuries?" Setting aside his musings, he inquired about the patient's condition.
"Not bad, I'll recover after a few months of rest." Akira replied matter-of-factly.
"That's good to hear." Ginrei's visit served both as courtesy and goodwill, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. You helped the Kuchiki family through a crisis — such a great favor must be repaid."
Akira grinned, "No problem, no problem, we can keep in touch in the future."
He had no immediate needs, but if something came up later, he could always approach this old piggybank. Since Ginrei had offered his goodwill, Akira wasn't one to stand on ceremony and accepted graciously.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Ginrei and his companion departed.
Through Unohana's explanation, Akira learned that Sōjun Kuchiki occupied the next room.
During the previous night's raid, Sōjun had been injured defending against the rebels, and his recovery would take even longer than Akira's.
After their departure, a stream of visitors arrived — Jūshirō Ukitake, Shunsui Kyōraku, Gosuke, and members of the 11th Division.
Though Akira hadn't yet become a Captain, the Shinigami regarded him as one.
After all, who else would dare kill the head of one of the Five Noble Houses?
In the million-year history of Soul Society — not just the Gotei 13's mere centuries — how many had dared to challenge the Five Noble Houses?
And more impressively, which Captain would dare to face off against Captain-Commander Yamamoto, boldly declaring they would overturn Soul Society?
What's a mere Kenpachi compared to that?
They acknowledged only Lord Magistrate's sharp tongue!
When the crowd finally dispersed and silence returned to the room, a figure entered quietly.
Sensing the approach, Akira, curled up in bed, turned his head with a grin.
"Finally here, Sōsuke. Worth sending someone to the Twelfth Division to fetch you."
Seeing his friend's thickly bandaged right hand, Aizen could only sigh helplessly.
"You could have handled this using safer methods, but you chose the most dangerous one with the worst side effects. Do you have some kind of vendetta against your own body?"
Before, it was just a grudge against his brain, but now it had evolved into a full assault on his body.
Aizen seriously suspected that Akira's sole purpose for existing in this world was to get himself killed. If Ansai had been even slightly more resilient, this fool might have managed to do himself in without any help.
Among all the people and phenomena he had encountered, Akira was uniquely peculiar.
"It's not that bad." Akira said with an embarrassed laugh, "I didn't think it through at the time. You said we couldn't let old man Yama kill Ansai Tsunayashiro, so I figured I should finish him off quickly."
"Then I had this idea to concentrate the power of Byakurai, Shakkahō, and Sōkatsui into one point, releasing it through the Ikkotsu."
"Sure, the side effects were a bit severe, but the results were excellent. Kōmyōdai Ansai didn't even get to say his last words — just died on the spot, turned to ash, and scattered in the wind..."
As he described it, his tone grew increasingly animated.
Only when he noticed Aizen's cold stare did he catch himself, trailing off with a few awkward laughs.
"Consider this a lesson. Stay in the Coordinated Relief Station and reflect on your actions. Otherwise, you might do something even more reckless next time."
Akira was dumbfounded — he'd been hoping the ever-capable Aizen would use some advanced technology to heal him, but he hadn't expected such ruthlessness.
"Sōsuke, please help me! If I stay bedridden any longer, I'll get paralyzed! I can't stay here forever!"
His wails echoed through the hospital room, promptly attracting Unohana on her rounds.
She stood by the window, a gentle smile gracing her delicate face as her calm voice filled the room.
"Kisaragi-kun, is the Coordinated Relief Station really so detestable to you?"
In an instant, the temperature plummeted, as if killing intent were surging like a tide...
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
Shihōin Manor.
Yoruichi flash-stepped back to the study, frantically searching through the bookshelves. She stacked book after book aside until they formed a small mountain.
She piled the books on her desk and began reading through them.
During this time, Marenoshin came by once, but seeing his master so focused and serious, he didn't disturb her. He tiptoed out of the room, carefully closed the door, and let out a long breath, his broad face full of satisfaction.
Lady Yoruichi had actually learned to study on her own. His constant reminders and urging hadn't been in vain after all.
Although she had made some questionable friendships, at least she had pulled back from the brink and hadn't been led astray by certain people.
Just then—
A cheer erupted from the study.
"As expected of me, I found it after only twelve books! Now there's hope for healing Akira's hand!"
Bang!
The door burst open, and Yoruichi rushed out like a whirlwind, coming face to face with Marenoshin's frozen expression.
"Oh, Ōmaeda? Perfect timing — I'm heading out. Make sure to handle the Second Division's duties for me."
Before he could refuse, Yoruichi had vanished from sight.
Marenoshin stared after her, his face full of bitterness.
He had thought Lady Yoruichi had turned over a new leaf, but in the end, she was just studying for someone else's sake.
Joy turned to sorrow — that described his situation perfectly. In the empty courtyard, his weak sighs echoed continuously.
"Ah..."
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
By evening, Yoruichi returned to the Coordinated Relief Station.
In the hospital room, she proudly displayed the book's contents to Akira like a child showing off a new toy.
"What's this?"
"Read it and you'll know."
Fighting off drowsiness, he forced himself to read through the text.
Hell's Hot Spring: A Kaidō technique invented by Kirinji Tenjirō, the Hot Spring Demon.
It was a hot spring formed from one's own Reiatsu, possessing extraordinary healing properties. It could mend flesh and bone, even reviving those near death. As long as a person still drew breath, this technique could bring them back from the brink.
This was considered the most advanced Kaidō technique in all of Soul Society.
"Once we create this, your hand can recover quickly!" Yoruichi smiled, "The Shihōin family can provide the rare materials needed, but there's one problem — we need a Shinigami with both powerful Reiatsu and Kaidō skills to create the Hell's Hot Spring."
At this point, she frowned slightly, looking at Akira on the hospital bed.
"Someone like that seems hard to find... Maybe I should learn healing techniques? No, that won't work — by the time I master it, your injury would already be healed."
The dark-skinned girl fell into deep thought.
Akira blinked, studying the contemplating Yoruichi. For the first time, he felt intellectually outmatched.
He hadn't expected to find someone even more simple-minded than himself in Soul Society, and right beside him no less.
"Say..." He grinned, "Would Captain Unohana meet the requirements?"
⤫⤬⤫
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