Under Instructor Kaido's utterly dumbfounded, almost ghost-stricken expression,the little white laboratory mouse leapt off the desk and bolted away from the scene of the crime with renewed vigor.
He watched the mouse disappear down the corridor, then slowly turned back, his face stiff, staring at the utterly innocent-looking Kisaragi Akira.
"...It died?"
Akira nodded.
"And then it came back?"
Akira nodded again.
Instructor Kaido stood frozen in place, unable to process something that violated every fundamental belief he had about healing arts.The other trainees, meanwhile, looked around in total confusion at the bizarre conversation.They had all been focused on practicing their own healing techniques—none of them had the slightest idea what had just happened.
Standing beside Akira, Aizome Ren lowered his gaze slightly, a faint glimmer flashing in his eyes.
He never had much interest in healing techniques.But with his overwhelmingly exceptional natural talent, even his half-hearted studying was enough to crush not just the other trainees—but even most instructors.
Death… and rebirth?
The fundamental principle of the healing art was to stimulate cells to achieve recovery.The stronger the individual, the harder they were to treat.
On the other hand, a test subject as fragile as a little white mouse — under the hands of a skilled healer with strong spiritual pressure — could indeed be revived at the precise moment of death.
Because a creature that weak was simply too easy to affect.
But Akira matched none of those criteria.
Could it be…?
A once-in-a-century prodigy of healing arts?
As the thought formed, Aizome's lips subtly curved upward.
The more he interacted with this guy, the more Akira felt like a walking collection of secrets—a dense, impenetrable fog where you could never tell what would emerge from the mist the next second.
He was simply fascinating, this Akira.
"Impossible! Something this absurd cannot exist!"
Instructor Kaido's eyes were bloodshot. He snatched Aizome's mouse, slammed it on the table in front of Akira, and barked:
"Kisaragi Akira, demonstrate it again!"
Akira blinked, curled his fingers, and with an effortless motion, snapped the mouse's neck.
Then a soft glow shimmered around his right hand as his healing energy enveloped the stiff little body.
With his spiritual pressure already at seated-officer level, repeatedly using healing techniques placed no strain on him at all.
Instructor Kaido held his breath, eyes wide, refusing to miss even a single detail—
The flow of spiritual pressure, any deviation, any mistake.Hand angles, finger count—three fingers to two—too far a distance!A perfectly normal basic healing spell was being mangled into something entirely unrecognizable by Akira.
And yet—
The mouse with the broken neck and the extinguished life-signs revived again within three seconds.
Could it be… that Akira's version was the actual standard?
"No. Impossible!"
Instructor Kaido couldn't accept the reality before him.He turned, grabbed every mouse belonging to the class, and roared:
"Again!"
Crack. Crack. Crack…
The endless series of neck-snapping sounds formed an unholy symphony.The trainees grew numb, but Instructor Kaido… finally understood the truth.
It was confirmed.
This boy was simply someone who had never memorized the correct steps of the basic healing technique.
His mistakes never repeated — each time they were brand new.
Every time you thought you'd reached the limit of how incorrect Akira could be, he surprised you with something even more creative.
Dozens of mice danced on the edge of death over and over again.From clumsy beginnings, to practiced familiarity, to casual, almost lazy ease—
Watching Akira perform healing began to give people a dangerous illusion:
"Maybe… I could do that too?"
Instructor Kaido tried to indulge that illusion.
And the mouse in his hands permanently ceased breathing.
"…I… just remembered something I must attend to…"
The instructor, face darkened with despair, cradled the dead mouse and staggered out of the classroom.
"That's all for today's healing class…"
As his figure disappeared down the hallway, every trainee slowly turned back toward Akira—
And stared.
For a moment, they regarded him with near-divine reverence.
Night. Temporary Dormitory.
Two boys sat together, secretly investigating Akira's abnormal healing ability.
Akira knew very well this was the effect of his exclusive sign-in perk [Miracle Healer's Touch].
But the underlying principle?
Even he was curious.
Yet even after cutting themselves and experimenting directly on their own bodies, they still couldn't uncover the true reason.In the end, Aizome could only chalk it up to individual talent.
After all, the world was full of strange geniuses—like himself, like Akira…like Captain Unohana Retsu of Squad Four…
Squad Four Barracks – Captain's Office
"Captain, that's… everything."
Instructor Kawai, the healing-arts teacher, stood with a bitter expression as he reported the day's events.
"Reviving the dead. It's impossible no matter how you look at it."
"But that kid did it — with the sloppiest, most incorrect form of the basic healing technique."
Captain Unohana listened, interest gleaming in her eyes.
Her impression of Akira thus far was:determined, incorrigibly lecherous…and extremely poor.
Last time's medical bill was still unpaid.
Who would have thought a kid like that possessed such talent?
"In that case, Kawai-jūseki," Unohana said gently, "I'll conduct the next healing lesson myself."
Instructor Kawai froze. "Ah—Captain, but—"
Before he could finish, a chilling, bone-penetrating killing intent filled the room.The temperature dropped to freezing.
Kawai trembled violently, teeth clacking, staring at the captain who was still smiling sweetly.
"…Do you have any objections?"
He shook his head so fast it was a blur.
Only now did he truly understand why no one dared cause trouble in Squad Four.
Anyone who did… didn't live long enough to regret it.
Next morning. Temporary Dorm.
"I came today specifically to thank you."
A polite black-haired boy stood before Akira.Akira rolled out of bed and circled him, frowning.
"That's strange…"
"Not a single trace. How is that possible?"
He wasn't surprised that Kuchiki Soujun had come to express thanks.What baffled him was the boy himself.
Anyone who used a genuine amulet from the Reversed-Bone Shrine should retain at least a faint mark of the One-Eyed Great Deity's spiritual pressure.
But Soujun had none.
He was exactly the same as before.If anything — even weaker than a typical shinigami.
Being stared at so intensely made Soujun's skin crawl.He hurriedly forced a smile and changed the subject, revealing the second reason for his visit:
"Actually, I wanted to ask… do you have another amulet like the one from last time?"
At those words—
Akira's eyes lit up instantly.He grinned broadly.
"That kind of amulet takes a lot of time, effort, and spiritual energy to make!"
Soujun blinked.
Before he could respond, Akira declared with crisp, absolute firmness:
"You'll have to pay extra!"