Izuru Kira took the journal with both hands, his face filled with gratitude.
"Thank you very much, Third Seat Suō! I will definitely read it carefully!"
"You're welcome. Keep up the good work."
Tsukasa Suō gave a small nod and a smile, patting him on the shoulder.
"Yes! Please, carry on with your business!" Kira hugged the journal to his chest and stepped aside, bowing respectfully.
At the end of the corridor, Tsukasa Suō walked away with a steady pace. Kira clutched the journal, watching his retreating figure. He stood outside the door for a moment, a look of firm determination igniting in his eyes.
The exchange between the two had been quite brief. It wasn't that Tsukasa was being cold; the two of them simply weren't well-acquainted. Furthermore, he had his own plans and wasn't about to change his objectives just because of a chance encounter with a figure from the original story like Izuru Kira. He had his own path and a clear set of goals.
Passing through the corridors of the Fourth Division, Tsukasa didn't go to the duty room to pick up Isane Kotetsu for company as he usually did. Instead, he chose to go alone. After that tea party under the moonlight in the courtyard that night, certain intangible things in his heart had been quietly broken.
With a composed gait, he raised his hand and knocked rhythmically on the door of the Captain's office.
"Captain."
"Come in."
Unohana Retsu's habitually gentle voice drifted from inside.
The paper door was pushed open softly and then closed again. Behind the desk, Retsu Unohana had returned to her usual attire. Her gaze fell upon Tsukasa, and she spoke warmly.
"Tsukasa, you've arrived. Taking charge of the newcomers must have been tiring. Among this batch of recruits in the Special Relief Class, was there anyone worth noting?"
Tsukasa took his place naturally opposite her and provided an objective assessment.
"There is indeed one named Izuru Kira. His talent is quite good, and his foundations in Kido are very solid."
"Izuru Kira—" Unohana nodded slightly, noting the name. With a faint smile, she nodded in satisfaction. "To earn such an evaluation from you, he must be quite decent indeed. The Fourth Division bears heavy responsibilities; we truly need your help in discovering and guiding such fresh blood."
She shifted the topic slightly, her smiling gaze lingering on Tsukasa with a hint of deeper meaning. "Just like back then, when Isane brought me to treat you, I saw a special possibility within you. It seems now that I certainly didn't misjudge."
Her words carried a touch of nostalgia, as well as the gratification and recognition of an elder watching a junior grow.
Tsukasa accepted the praise calmly and smiled. "It is because of your excellent guidance, Captain. You have given me a great deal of trust and opportunity."
"Alright, enough of that. Pour yourself some tea and find a book to read while you wait. Once I finish processing this work, I will guide you in the cultivation of the acupuncture of the spiritual network." Unohana shook her head slightly with a smile, her tone affectionate.
"Yes."
Tsukasa followed her suggestion, walking over to the tea table to pour himself a cup. Holding the tea, he selected a book from the nearby shelf, sat down quietly, and turned the pages. A silence filled with unspoken understanding and tranquility flowed slowly through the room, punctuated only by the slight sounds of their activities.
Fourth Division, Quiet Room.
A man and a woman alone in a room at night—such a combination of words would usually invite idle speculation. In the center of the room, Tsukasa sat cross-legged on a clean cushion. His upper body was bare, his back straight, and his breathing steady. The lamplight fell upon the well-defined muscles of his back, plating them in a soft, warm glow.
Beside him, Retsu Unohana lowered her eyes slightly as she stood behind him. Her left hand rested on his shoulder, while a condensed spiritual needle, thinner than a strand of hair, shimmered at her right fingertips. It did not touch Tsukasa's skin directly, but hovered about an inch above the center of the base of his neck.
The room held no air of ambiguity or flirtation; there was only the solemnity of focused instruction. Tsukasa remained shirtless solely to ensure he could sense the guidance with the utmost precision.
Unohana explained in a steady tone, "First, I will seal the nodes of touch. Touch is the most direct boundary between the physical body and reality; it is the easiest place to begin. Close your eyes, relax, and concentrate your spiritual awareness where my needle points. Feel carefully how my spiritual pressure probes into your spiritual network. Remember the location and the sensation."
Tsukasa did as instructed, dedicating his entire being to feeling the guidance of the spiritual pressure from her fingertips.
"Pay close attention."
As her voice fell, the spiritual needle sank in soundlessly.
Immediately after, a strange sense of loss washed over Tsukasa's body. The warmth and pressure from Unohana's palm resting on his left shoulder vanished abruptly.
"This is spiritual network interference," Unohana's voice remained steady. "Your hand has not lost its ability to move; it is simply that the tactile signals received by the brain have been sealed. Now, try to move."
Tsukasa opened his eyes and moved his left hand. His movements were as fluid as ever, but there seemed to be a layer of transparent glass between the command confirmed by his vision and the result executed by his limb. He saw his fingers moving, but he could not feel the actual sensation of them touching, nor could he feel the air brushing against the back of his hand.
A clear schism had appeared between self-awareness and physical feedback. It was an extremely peculiar, even slightly unsettling experience.
"Your spiritual pressure control is more than sufficient. Do not be nervous; give it a try," Unohana said as she slowly withdrew the spiritual needle.
In a matter of moments, the sense of loss receded like a tide. Normal tactile sensations returned instantly, and the feeling on his shoulder felt exceptionally clear due to its brief absence.
To condense a Reishi needle was not difficult. The true challenge lay in grasping the minute precision required to seal the five senses. A Shinigami's vital points are the Saketsu and Hakusui, but that does not mean other key points cannot be crippling.
Condensing a spiritual needle at his fingertip, Tsukasa inserted it into the previous position with practiced ease. He used his spiritual awareness and imagination to outline a dam, blocking the transmission of sensory information. He felt little trepidation; every time he learned a new ability, it was filled with a sense of novelty.
After insertion, Tsukasa lost his sense of touch once more. It was the same sensation. This time, he had actively cast himself into a tactile void.
"Very good," Unohana noted his every move, her voice filled with praise. She was not surprised by the result. With his abilities and conditions meeting the standards, combined with his knowledge and courage, it was not difficult for him to learn.
In the training that followed, Unohana guided Tsukasa in identifying the key nodes related to taste, smell, and hearing, letting him attempt self-interference for each one. Each time, he was required to maintain the interference for a dozen breaths before releasing it.
"That is all for today. You are not allowed to practice this privately after you return," Unohana called a halt to the instruction at the appropriate time, her tone serious. "Closing off the senses too frequently will instead damage your sensory sensitivity. The way of acupuncture of the spiritual network is not accomplished in a single day; the key lies in moderation. What I taught you today are merely the basics. If you wish to engage in actual combat under the seal of this technique, you still have a long way to go."
"Yes, Captain." Tsukasa dressed himself and nodded.
As he left the Quiet Room, the night had grown deeper. Tsukasa subconsciously moved his fingers; the sensation of his Shihakusho fabric rubbing against his skin felt exceptionally delicate and vivid at this moment.
As he passed a corner, that familiar feeling of being scanned by a subtle gaze swept over him once more. This time, Tsukasa's pace did not falter in the slightest, nor did his eyes drift for a second. After the sensory deprivation training he had just undergone, he felt a peculiar detachment toward this superficial gaze.
His figure passed steadily through the corridor ahead.
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