"Captain Unohana, it's an honor for you to personally come here. Vice-Captain has already returned to the Seireitei for official duties, so it falls to me to brief you on the situation..."
A Shinigami, wearing the armband denoting his rank as the Third Seat of the Tenth Division, stepped forward hastily, bowing respectfully to Unohana.
"Thank you for your efforts," Unohana replied gently, her tone as soft and composed as ever.
"Of course!"
The Third Seat straightened, his voice full of deference as he led Unohana and Makoto forward. Gesturing to the houses on either side of the path, he began his report.
"Following yesterday's extended investigation, it's been confirmed that 168 residents are missing their souls. A small number remain in a comatose state. Although members of the Fifth Rescue Unit provided treatment to these individuals yesterday, their conditions remain dire—spiritual particles are continuing to dissipate from their bodies."
Unohana nodded thoughtfully. "Have you found any traces of Hollow activity?"
"Vice-Captain personally led a two-day search but found no signs of a Hollow possibly lurking in the area. His conclusion is that the Hollow likely fled the region," the Third Seat replied.
It was evident that, to avoid unnecessary panic, Vice-Captain Shiba had officially framed the phenomenon as a Hollow attack while covertly requesting assistance from the Fourth Division to assess the residents' conditions.
"Have all the residents suffering from soul loss been gathered here?" Unohana asked.
"Yes. Following Vice-Captain Shiba's orders, all identified residents missing their souls have been relocated to this area. However, final arrangements for them await the Seireitei's instructions," the Third Seat answered with continued deference.
"Understood. I'll examine the patients' conditions first," Unohana said, nodding.
Afterward, she dismissed the Tenth Division escorts and turned to Makoto.
"Makoto, let's divide the task. Begin assessing the emotional damage suffered by the residents," she instructed.
Makoto nodded, ready to begin immediately, but Unohana's voice stopped him again.
"Makoto," she said softly, "the world's essence is often harsh. Do not let it unsettle you. Just focus on what is within your power to do."
For a brief moment, Makoto was taken aback. Then, with a kind and gentle smile, he nodded and went to work.
When Makoto pushed open the door to the first humble dwelling, he was met with a small, cramped room. Inside, six residents lay motionless—men and women alike—with pale faces and vacant expressions.
Their spiritual particles… were still dissipating.
Though Makoto had anticipated such a state, seeing it with his own eyes tightened his chest. He now fully understood why Unohana had gone out of her way to warn him earlier.
In the Soul Society, souls were the foundation of everything, and spiritual particles (reishi) formed the basic building blocks of all matter. A body was essentially a construct of spiritual particles shaped by the soul.
Now, with significant portions of these residents' souls missing, the foundation of their bodies was eroding. The resulting loss of spiritual particles was irreversible.
It was akin to a living human losing vital organs or limbs. Without intervention, these residents faced a grim and inevitable decline.
The residents whose souls had only slightly diminished could still live normal lives.
But for those with significant soul loss, it was akin to a human losing both kidneys. Though they might not die immediately, death was merely a matter of time.
"Hello, I'm Senju Makoto, a member of the Fourth Division, here to conduct a health check for you," Makoto said gently and politely.
However, the six residents before him showed almost no reaction. Their expressions remained blank, their gazes empty as they stared at him.
Makoto took a deep breath and began examining them. The Fifth Rescue Unit had clearly provided basic emergency treatment the day before.
Next, Makoto attempted to test the emotional activity of their souls. But nearly every result hovered between pale white and faint orange.
This low?
Makoto's heart sank slightly. To confirm, he tried a harsher approach, using blunt words to inform the residents of their dire condition.
The colors fluctuated slightly, but they remained orange.
Finally, Makoto took a more direct approach. Using a temporary, superficial method, he replenished part of a resident's lost spiritual energy, stabilizing their physical state significantly. He then retested them.
Still orange.
Makoto continued moving between the cramped dwellings, repeating the same checks. Nearly 90% of the residents showed pale orange, with only a handful displaying slightly deeper hues.
This isn't right. Losing only the emotional component of their souls doesn't align with the typical behavior of Hollows. Could it really be Aizen Sōsuke?
Though Makoto had no concrete evidence pointing to Aizen, he couldn't ignore a nagging thought: In a hundred years past and a hundred years to come, if the Soul Society bore a burden of responsibility weighing ten stones, Aizen would account for at least eight. The nobles would take one, and all the other Shinigami—excluding the innocent and virtuous Makoto himself—would share the remaining one.
As Makoto pondered this, a small figure suddenly collided with him. Instinctively, he reached out to steady them.
Looking down, he saw a petite child with hair of an unusual pale lavender, almost white. The child wore simple, rough-hewn clothes that couldn't hide their snow-white complexion.
Where did this little girl come from…?
That was Makoto's first thought. His second, as he marveled at his "luck" in encountering such a cute child, froze on his face when the child looked up.
Ichimaru Gin?!
A young boy?!
Though small and slight, the boy's half-lidded eyes carried a serpent's watchfulness, making it impossible to discern his emotions. His face bore what could be called a smile, yet it radiated a distant and dangerous aura.
Makoto was momentarily stunned. Before he could react, Gin suddenly yanked himself free from Makoto's grasp and bolted in a specific direction.
Makoto turned to watch Gin flee, his mind flashing back to the item the boy had clutched tightly to his chest.
If Makoto wasn't mistaken, it was rations from the Gotei 13.
Behind him, a Tenth Division member came sprinting up, shouting angrily in Gin's direction.
"That damn brat! Stealing rations again? You think Shinigami don't get angry? If I catch you, I'll string you up and give you a hundred— bleep bleep!"
What?!
Makoto stood in disbelief.
How much hatred does it take to say something that cruel?!
=================
Consider joining me on P@treon For 50+ Advance Chapters:
P@treon: p@treon.com/JustaPasserby