“Good morning.”
“Morning—w-whoa!
What happened to that!?”
It was still about thirty minutes before the start-of-work bell, I think.
I’d come to the Coordinated Relief Station a little early and stopped by the Shihakushō Sewing Room.
A few of the seniors were already there, working on something even before the official start of the day, and the moment they saw me come in, one of them cried out in shock.
Or rather, not at me.
At what I was holding.
“Um…
I was wondering if there was anything you could do about this…”
I held up my thoroughly shredded Shihakushō.
After yesterday’s training with Captain Unohana, it had been reduced to a truly miserable state.
Still, there had to be some hope left.
Maybe they could fix it somehow?
That was why I’d brought it to the specialist department.
“D-Don’t tell me someone tore it up bullying you!?
…Wait, no.
You only joined our Fourth Division the other day, so that’s way too soon for anyone to start targeting you…
Besides, everyone’s so busy here that if anyone had time for something that unproductive, it’d make far more sense to just dump extra work on the poor target instead…”
“No, that’s not what happened—”
Listening to reasoning that somehow only made me feel sadder, I explained how this poor rag had come into existence.
“…So this is the result of combat training…
Is that right?”
“Y-Yes.”
“I don’t quite know how to put this, Yukawa-san, but…
you’re rather unusual.”
Ugh.
She was looking at me like I was some kind of pitiful weirdo.
As expected, there really weren’t many people in the Fourth Division who took combat training this seriously.
For a Fourth Division member, going to a battlefield generally means arriving after the other divisions have already engaged the enemy and providing treatment and support.
Standing right on the front line and swinging a sword yourself is fairly rare.
If the healer goes down, everyone can go down with them.
Running away when things get dangerous!
Focusing on supporting your allies!
Those are perfectly respectable tactics too.
Even in games, healers and buffers are important.
The other day, while I was still following my senior around and learning the job, we’d actually had a chance to deploy, so I’d experienced it for myself!
…So why do the Soul Reapers from the other divisions complain so much…?
“And about this Shihakushō…
it’d be faster to replace it than repair it.”
“So it really is hopeless?”
“Considering the amount of work involved.
It’s not literally impossible, but if we tried to repair all of this and hide every trace of the mending…”
Back to my Shihakushō.
Yeah.
No matter how I looked at it, proper repair was hopeless.
I’d only just been issued this thing, and I’d already ruined one set…
“H-Hey, don’t look so down!
You’re one of us in the Fourth Division, so we’ll make you a new one at a special discounted price!!”
“Really!?
Please!
Absolutely, please!!
And if possible, several sets!!”
I’m a rookie, so my pay isn’t exactly impressive.
A special discounted price!!
Ahh, what a beautiful phrase!!
More importantly, every day Captain Unohana trains me is probably going to end with my Shihakushō looking like this.
So I should probably buy several.
“And if you want, I can give that ruined one a quick repair too.
As long as you only wear it for combat training—somewhere it doesn’t matter if it gets destroyed, where nobody else is going to see you—then it should still be usable…?”
“Yes, please!
That too!”
She had her own work to do, and she was still offering to go that far for me.
Everyone here really is nice.
So, as a way of thanking them, I helped out with the sewing-room work.
I checked that no pins had been left behind and gave things a proper press with the hinoshi iron.
The Fourth Division is busy every single day.
I’ve said it several times already, but on top of our normal duties, we also have work pushed onto us—
I mean, work passed along to us—
by the other divisions.
If I’m being truthful, I’d love to ignore all my duties and spend all my time training instead.
But for all sorts of obvious reasons, that’s impossible.
“Phew.
Cleaning done.”
At the moment, I was cleaning inside the Coordinated Relief Station.
Whatever else you might say about it, this is a medical facility.
The inside has to be kept clean and sanitary at all times.
Injured Soul Reapers are brought in here covered in blood, and germs get spread around with it.
If an infectious disease started going around on top of everything else, it’d be a complete disaster.
So I swept and dusted away the dirt, then wiped every corner down thoroughly with a cloth.
Once I’d finished the cleaning and confirmed everything was spotless—
“Jokin.”
—I chanted a Kidō spell as the finishing touch.
This one doesn’t belong to either Hadō or Bakudō.
It’s my own independently developed Kidō spell.
That sounds amazing, doesn’t it?
But basic Kidō is built around spoken incantations, so once you can put together a working spell formula, technically anyone can create one.
Of course, there’s a huge range in difficulty.
If you want to create something with a powerful effect, you need specialised knowledge and skill.
But if all you want is to make an original Kidō spell, it’s not actually that difficult.
The real question is whether it’s worth anything.
“I made my own offensive Kidō!”
Okay.
But how is it different from Shakkahō?
And isn’t Shakkahō already far more polished and convenient?
That’s the sort of wall everyone probably runs into at least once.
Soul Reapers have spent more than a thousand years researching and refining Kidō.
It’s hard for one person to casually overturn all of that.
And from an organisational perspective, keeping tactics standardised makes them much easier to manage too.
Anyway.
Back to the Kidō I just used.
Its name is Jokin.
Can you guess how it’s written?
The written characters mean shrimp, crab and scorpion.
What body part do all three have in common?
That’s right.
Pincers!
And pincers make you think of scissors.
Scissors go *jokin, jokin*—
And *jokin* also means disinfection.
“Jokin.”
When I chant it, the spell wipes out the surrounding germs in one go.
“Perfect.
That should do it.”
For someone who used to live in the modern world, the idea of a medical facility not being disinfected is unthinkable.
“Good work.”
“Oh, Yukawa-san.
Good work.”
When I came back after finishing that job, I found one of the girls from my old cohort.
She’d been at Shin’ō Academy with me too.
Several other female squad members were sitting nearby and resting too.
A quick break in the middle of a brutal workload, basically.
“Hey, Yukawa-san.
Could I ask you for that thing again?
It’s been a while.”
“Of course.
I don’t mind.
It’ll have to be a quick one, though.”
“That’s completely fine!
Please!!”
I had no particular reason to refuse.
So, as requested, I placed my hands on her shoulders and started kneading with firm pressure.
“Ahhh…
that really hits the spot…”
“Your shoulders were seriously stiff.
That must’ve been rough.”
“Yeees…
exactly…
Nn!
There, right there.
Harder…
harder!!”
“All right, all right.
Here?”
It was the same massage I’d given people countless times back at the Academy.
Ideally, I’d love to let her properly enjoy—
I mean, properly treat—
every last part of her body.
But given where we were, that obviously wasn’t possible.
Shoulders and lower back, then.
And maybe, through sheer force of will, a little around the butt as well.
“Fwaaah…
this feels so good…
I just want to fall asleep like this…”
“Come on, we’re still on duty.
You can’t go to sleep.”
By the time I finished, she looked half lost in a dream.
We’re still working, though…
Hm?
“Um, Yukawa-san.
Could you do the same for me too?”
“Me next!
I’ve already booked second place!!”
“Hey!
That’s not fair!
I was supposed to be second!!”
Apparently she’d looked extremely comfortable.
And everyone around us must have been exhausted too.
The nearby female squad members came rushing over.
This was getting an amazing reception.
And that wasn’t all.
Maybe they’d heard the rumours from my Academy days, because some of them even asked whether I could give them a proper full-body session on a day off instead of something this short.
Well, it combines hobby and practical benefit.
I have no reason to say no.
So I spent plenty of time kneading all sorts of places on my seniors.
Author’s Notes
● Hinoshi
You put hot charcoal into something like a frying pan and use the heat to smooth wrinkles out of clothing.
In other words, it’s basically an iron.
Japan has had them since around the Heian period.
(In China, they apparently already existed around the Three Kingdoms period.)
● Self-Created Kidō
There are only 198 spells between Hadō and Bakudō.
(Ignoring things like Ura Hadō.)
And unless you’re a seated officer, you aren’t taught higher-level Kidō.
There aren’t enough varieties!
It’s inconvenient!
Surely there must be Soul Reapers who develop their own spells!
Hachi—Hachigen Ushōda—also says, “A technique I created myself.”
So I think individual Soul Reapers creating their own personal Kidō is probably fair game.
*Jokin, jokin…*
It may be useless in combat, but for the Fourth Division it’s incredibly useful.