Capítulo 102: Chapter 103: Aizen Sosuke makes a move!
Naturally, Makoto had no interest in interfering with how the Central 46 planned to suppress Zaraki Kenpachi.
Without a doubt, from the perspective of the Central 46, a battle-obsessed monster like Zaraki was undeniably a unpredictable factor.
For now, Makoto was focused on revising his future plans, slightly shifting his priorities to allocate some of his energy toward the medical research of creating life and studying spiritual bodies without spiritual pressure.
The Next Day.
Makoto resumed his usual routine, regularly working in the gynecology department. He began incorporating the "Seeds of the Forest" into the bodies of certain women whose spiritual pressure met the standards for seated officers. Concurrently, he organized and compiled the materials needed for his upcoming research.
Unlike the sly and secretive Aizen, Makoto preferred to operate openly. As a pure-hearted young man, he took pleasure in doing things in the light, concealing only the smallest shadows beneath his glow.
Thus, he made no attempt to hide his intentions. In addition to enlisting Byakuya's assistance in gathering research materials, he even sought help from Unohana.
Furthermore, he maintained regular visits with Byakuya to the Rukongai to check on Hisana and young Rukia.
As for Ichimaru Gin, Makoto had no plans to return to the Shin'ō Academy—nor was there any need.
After all, as long as the bracelet remained on Gin's wrist, Makoto was, in a sense, always with him.
The only thing that slightly troubled Makoto was Gin's persistent habit of keeping his hands tucked inside his sleeves, coupled with his idle tendency to twirl the bracelet around his wrist.
This gave Makoto the peculiar sensation of having his hair constantly ruffled by Gin.
Sitting in his office, Makoto listened attentively to the symptoms described by a voluptuous noblewoman in front of him. His expression was gentle and sincere, and the warmth in his eyes made the woman feel as if she were basking in sunlight.
The only oddity was that Dr. Senju occasionally touched his hair, as though feeling some discomfort.
However... even such seemingly meaningless gestures are inexplicably charming...
Unconsciously, the noblewoman's gaze grew dreamy, as if she had drifted into some private reverie.
Makoto adjusted his glasses and gently reminded her, "Madam? Are there any other symptoms you'd like to mention?"
"Symptoms? Yes, yes, there are…"
The noblewoman lightly pressed a hand to her chest and replied, "Tightness, heaviness… Occasionally, I feel a sinking sensation. My back and shoulders often ache, and sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night struggling to breathe. Dr. Senju, am I ill? Is it serious?"
Makoto's gaze lowered subtly, as though measuring her condition with his eyes.
Sacred Script—
"Relax a little, and let me feel for myself…"
He walked behind her, his voice soothing as he placed his hands on her shoulders and the muscles near her lumbar spine, assessing their tension.
Then, using Kaido (healing techniques), he carefully examined her spiritual body for any underlying issues.
After a brief examination, Makoto adjusted his glasses and announced his diagnosis.
"Madam, there's no major problem. It's simply that your spiritual body is under a bit of strain. There are two possible treatment options: First, regular massages with specific techniques to relieve tension in the spiritual muscles; and second—"
Before he could finish, the noblewoman's eyes lit up, as if she had achieved her goal. Without hesitation, she declared, "Dr. Senju, I choose the first option."
"Are you sure? The first option is time-consuming and doesn't address the root cause. The second option would be much more effective—"
"No need, Dr. Senju. I'll go with the first!" she insisted firmly.
Makoto nodded, respecting her decision as part of his professional ethics. "In that case, please note down the techniques I'll show you. When you return home, have your husband perform regular massages for you."
At this, the noblewoman's expression turned sorrowful, tears welling in her eyes as she said, "Dr. Senju, my husband passed away over a century ago…"
"My… my apologies…" Makoto stammered, quickly offering his condolences. "In that case, teaching it to your maids would work just as well."
"My maids are clumsy. Dr. Senju, I'd rather trouble you to handle it personally…"
Wiping her tears delicately, the noblewoman watched the slightly flustered Makoto struggle to console her. The sight warmed her heart, filling her with a comforting heat.
Unlike despicable types like Kyōraku Shunsui, Dr. Senju is so pure and endearing—he draws people in without even trying…
Suddenly, an idea struck her. "Dr. Senju, could you try acupuncture? Many of my friends have said your needles work wonders."
Sensing her spiritual pressure, Makoto dismissed the unnecessary suggestion and instead instructed her to lie on the treatment table. Then, with practiced precision, he began alleviating the tension in her spiritual muscles.
Lately… it seems there's been an increase in patients with similar symptoms, Makoto thought, suspecting the issue might be tied to the environmental conditions within the Seireitei.
Under Makoto's skillful hands, which adjusted spiritual energy with remarkable finesse, the noblewoman soon began to emit soft, involuntary murmurs of relief.
The comfort he provided seemed to reach the very depths of her soul.
Just as she felt her mind blanking, about to ascend to a peak of unparalleled bliss, Makoto's hands abruptly withdrew.
"Apologies, Madam. Something urgent has come up—please wait here a moment," he said hurriedly, leaving her no time to object before exiting the office.
The noblewoman stared in stunned silence, her thoughts unexpectedly drifting to a former lover.
That scoundrel had been just as heartless!
Outside the office, Makoto brushed past the waiting patients with a brief apology and made his way to the restroom.
Locking the door behind him, his expression grew serious. Moments earlier, he had clearly heard Aizen's voice—through the bracelet on Gin's wrist.
So, you couldn't resist making your move, could you, Aizen Sōsuke?
Makoto's eyes glinted as he slowly drew his Shinro Bansho sword.
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