[Location Sign-In: Captain Unoha's Private Infirmary][Swordsmanship +1000 points acquired; Swordsmanship Level Up! Current Level: lv20][Exclusive Trait Acquired: Master Healer][Master Healer: Exceptional medical skill, capable of restoring life. Belief that as long as one is not dead, there is always hope. Healing effect increased by 100%!]
A pleasant surprise!
Kisaragi Akira's eyes lit up, even momentarily forgetting the piercing pain in his right hand.
He had assumed only high-security areas like the Mao Spiritual Arts Academy would qualify for a sign-in, yet it turned out that a so-called "private infirmary" could trigger one as well.
Healing Arts—or Kaidō—is a branch of the Shinigami's abilities. While not offensive, it is indispensable in logistics and support.
The Fourth Division was the largest among the Gotei Thirteen, making this a critical place indeed.
Unlike Akira's brazen stare aimed at the black-haired girl seated in front of him, Aizen's body tensed instinctively the moment he noticed her presence, subconsciously restraining his overwhelming spiritual pressure.
The pure white, broad captain's haori bore the character "四" stitched neatly on the back. Her thick, jet-black hair was braided down her front, partially concealing her commanding figure.
A gentle and kind smile adorned her exquisitely beautiful face, radiating a natural warmth and approachability.
The respect and admiration in the eyes of nearby guards and Fourth Division Shinigami made her status abundantly clear: she was none other than Captain Unoha Rei of the Fourth Division.
Yet for Aizen, it was an entirely different story.
A crushing, almost apocalyptic wave of murderous intent seemed to emanate from her, cold enough to pierce bone, flowing into every pore and settling deep within the body.
Chills ran down the spine.
In that instant, her gentle, beautiful face seemed irrelevant. Sitting there wasn't the beloved Captain Unoha—but a ferocious demon risen from the depths of hell itself.
Could this really be what a captain of the Gotei Thirteen was "worth"?
Aizen hadn't encountered any other captains, and Unoha Rei was the first he had met in Seireitei. Any lingering traces of arrogance he had were instantly wiped away.
If the other captains were anything like her, perhaps the Seireitei wasn't as dull as he had imagined.
He swallowed his thoughts and helped Kisaragi Akira to stand before Unoha Rei.
Two strange boys in blue-and-white Mao Academy uniforms.
One wore a blatantly audacious gaze; the other scanned their surroundings warily.
Truly unusual. There wasn't a shred of respect visible in their demeanor.
"Step closer, student," Unoha Rei's soft voice broke the tension. "Your injuries cannot wait any longer."
Startled by the reminder, Akira snapped back to reality and sat directly across from her, placing his now-lifeless right hand on her thigh.
Given his seated posture, it was the easiest place to reach.
Unoha Rei paused for a moment, but professionalism prevailed. She carefully examined his right hand and began her treatment.
Her pale hands moved delicately, fingers lightly brushing against his skin as a vibrant, emerald light blossomed at her fingertips.
The powerful spiritual energy flowed into the deep purple skin of his arm. Tingling sensations spread through the bones, accompanied by crisp, snapping sounds as twisted bones returned to their proper positions.
Unoha Rei was surprised. Despite the intense procedure, Akira showed no sign of pain.
As the current greatest healer and master of Kaidō in the Soul Society, she had treated countless injured soldiers and patients, and seen more resolute wills than she could count.
Yet she had never encountered someone quite like Kisaragi Akira.
From his defiant, bold gaze, it was clear that at his core, he was the same type as Kyoraku Harusame. Yet such individuals usually had limits—their lusts clouding their determination.
A boy both lecherous and unwaveringly resolute? Rare indeed.
Even Aizen's gaze lingered in surprise, as if he were seeing Akira for the first time.
"Ah, ah, no need to look at me like that, Sōsuke," Akira grinned. "A real man laughs off a scratch like this!"
"Even if the pain were ten times worse, I wouldn't flinch—"
Before he could finish, his expression suddenly contorted, features scrunched to the extreme—a display of his absurdly dramatic flair.
"Ah, my apologies! Forgot to warn you," Unoha Rei's gentle voice came to them. She smiled softly. "Broken bones must be shattered and reassembled properly. That's the only way to avoid future complications."
Looking at her so-close, tender smile, Akira finally understood the devilish subtlety behind her calm demeanor.
The treatment didn't take long. As the emerald light faded, Akira felt the vitality return to his right hand.
"The remaining healing will require medicinal assistance," Unoha Rei instructed, having a squad member fetch a topical salve and carefully explaining its application and dosage.
"Also, the total cost is 1,123 Ryo. Will you pay cash or charge it?"
Akira's eyes went wide. He couldn't believe such a beautiful mouth could speak such cruel words.
"I never said treatment was free," Unoha Rei replied, smiling lightly.
"Akira, as we discussed in class," Aizen sighed. "Unless a Shinigami was injured on duty, all other medical treatments require payment."
"You heard that, right?" Aizen's tone carried a subtle warning.
Akira's face fell. Aside from zanpakutō combat techniques, he paid no attention in class, often dozing off or spacing out.
And now, as the victim of injury, why was he the one paying the bill?
"Come on, Sōsuke… we're friends, right? Could you—"
His words were cut off by Aizen's light yet firm reply.
"No. No money."
Both were commoners; Akira's position as head of the local shrine couldn't change that. His pockets were emptier than his expression suggested.
Strictly speaking, Aizen had no great desire for money either, though he could have easily achieved wealth if he wanted.
Abandoned by his friend, Akira could only begrudgingly agree to charge the treatment, promising that if he couldn't repay before officially joining the Fourth Division, he would start from the bottom as a squad member.
Outside the barracks, Akira crossed his arms, brows furrowed.
This experience had taught him the importance of money.
He suddenly looked up.
"Aizen…"
"Let's go make some money!"