Capítulo 31: Women, Women, Women
The question caught Seiya completely off guard, leaving him with an awkward expression.
What is Aizen-sensei thinking?
Was he testing whether I had uncovered his true nature?
But how was he supposed to respond?
As Seiya hesitated, Aizen's expression softened, and he lightly patted Seiya's shoulder.
"Hehe, it seems this question troubles you," Aizen said, smiling.
"Then feel free to dwell on it, Seiya-kun… but remember, never place too much trust in others—not even in me."
"After all, who can say what lies beneath the surface of our skin and flesh? What form our true selves might take?"
The sudden shift in tone left Seiya momentarily stunned.
Wait, was that a joke? From Aizen-sensei? That's rare…
It took him a moment to digest Aizen's words, and then he cautiously asked, "Aizen-sensei, are you troubled by something?"
For a split second, Aizen's expression froze.
"What makes you say that, Seiya-kun?"
Seiya tilted his head slightly, a perplexed look on his face.
"It's just… if this were the usual Aizen-sensei, you wouldn't be saying these kinds of things to me."
People often behave differently when they encounter stress or unexpected events—they become more sensitive, sometimes even erratic.
This same principle, Seiya reasoned, could easily apply to Aizen.
Recalling his interactions with Urahara Kisuke earlier, Seiya couldn't help but surmise that Aizen had likely encountered some kind of bottleneck in his research on the Hōgyoku.
Even someone as composed as Aizen was bound to face frustrations. It was only natural.
Perhaps a straightforward word of comfort would help alleviate his worries.
But Seiya knew better than to appear too presumptuous. He was still mostly in the dark about the situation, and overstepping could only lead to suspicion.
Seiya raised his right hand and mimicked Aizen's typical tone, carefully phrasing his response.
"Normally, Aizen-sensei might say something like, 'Placing blind trust in others is indeed a bad habit, but conversely, those with this trait are often the best at connecting with others.'"
His response was balanced, insightful, and entirely in line with the version of Aizen that most people knew.
At this, Aizen's gaze shifted, the light in his eyes changing slightly.
His lips twitched as if to say something, but after a brief pause, he broke into an unfamiliar, genuine smile.
Not his usual calm and measured expression.
Aizen's shoulders trembled slightly, and then an uncharacteristic chuckle escaped his lips—a light sound at first, before cascading into full laughter.
"Haha… Hahaha! Seiya-kun, you truly are an interesting person."
Seiya, meanwhile, was left speechless, his face a picture of exasperation.
What is he laughing about? Did I do something ridiculous?
"Aizen-sensei," Seiya began hesitantly, "what's so funny?"
Aizen took a moment to adjust his glasses, his composure quickly returning to its usual serene state.
"Hehe, Seiya-kun, some questions are best explored on your own. That's the only way to find meaningful answers."
Well, it seems he's back to normal… but being laughed at for no reason is still kind of annoying.
"Seiya-kun, it's getting late," Aizen said, his tone casual yet inviting. "How about I treat you to dinner before we head back to the academy?"
What?
Seiya perked up immediately.
Forget what I said earlier. Aizen-sensei is amazing!
"Thank you, Aizen-sensei!"
"Hehe, I suppose the prospect of food is the only thing that truly energizes you."
"Well, considering the 'food' in Squad Twelve wasn't exactly edible…"
"Should I relay that sentiment to Captain Urahara?"
"Guh… Please, no!"
The pair walked on, bantering lightly as they disappeared into the golden hues of the setting sun.
The Seireitei was vast, and its residential and squad barracks were separated into distinct zones. Only the central districts and a few select squad areas boasted bustling commercial hubs.
Aizen led Seiya to a rather unassuming establishment. From the outside, it looked old and worn, but the lively atmosphere inside told a different story.
The air was thick with the mingling scents of alcohol, fried foods, and the faint musk of aged wood.
Seiya wrinkled his nose slightly.
It's a bit overpowering…
But despite the rustic setup, the place was clearly popular. Shinigami in their uniforms filled the space, drinking and chatting loudly.
"This is one of the oldest and most well-known restaurants in the Seireitei," Aizen explained as he glanced around. "Even Captain-Commander Yamamoto himself has dined here."
Oh, so it has the Captain-Commander's seal of approval. That explains a lot.
Though it wasn't to Seiya's taste, he wasn't about to complain about free food.
Let's eat!
Aizen ordered with ease, clearly familiar with the menu. Then he turned to Seiya with a raised brow.
"Seiya-kun, do you drink?"
"I don't mind trying a little."
"Understood."
Aizen smiled faintly, then told the waiter, "Just bring him a glass of grape juice."
…What? Did you even hear me?!
Resigned to his fate, Seiya kept quiet. Soon, a neatly dressed server brought over their food.
"Thank you for waiting. Here's your grilled skewers and sashimi. Enjoy your meal!"
The skewers were perfectly charred, the chicken tender and juicy. The sashimi, served atop crushed ice, was arranged beautifully.
Seiya dug in enthusiastically, even ordering a few extra bowls of beef rice to sate his appetite.
Meanwhile, Aizen only nibbled at a few skewers before setting his chopsticks down.
As Seiya demolished his third bowl of rice, he noticed Aizen glancing at him from time to time.
"Uh… Aizen-sensei, aren't you eating?"
"I'm not very hungry."
Seiya sensed the evasion in his tone but chose not to press the matter.
Fine. More for me!
While Seiya was absorbed in his meal, Aizen excused himself, saying he needed to use the restroom.
Seiya nodded absently, watching as Aizen disappeared down the hallway.
Aizen-sensei seems stressed lately. Maybe I should try cheering him up with a joke or two later.
But before Seiya could finish that thought, a loud commotion erupted from the restaurant's upper floor.
There were crashing sounds, followed by sharp voices—a mixture of scolding, anger, and a woman's high-pitched screams.
What's going on up there?
The upper floor was reserved for private rooms. Without a reservation, no one could access it.
As Seiya debated whether to intervene, a figure tumbled down the stairs, landing with a thud.
It was the waitress who had served them earlier.
Her kimono was torn, her long braids undone, and her face swollen from a harsh slap.
Her left cheek was grotesquely discolored, the result of burst blood vessels and severe bruising.
She looked utterly pitiful, trembling as she collapsed at Seiya's feet.
Seiya quickly stood and helped her up.
"Are you okay?"
"P-Please… save me…" she whimpered, clutching at his sleeve.
But before he could respond further, a group of jeering voices echoed down the stairs.
"Well, well, why'd you run?"
"You should be grateful we even noticed you!"
"Yeah, that face is too pretty to ruin… but it's fine. From behind, no one will notice."
The vulgarity in their tone made the entire restaurant fall silent, their words sending a wave of discomfort through the patrons.
Seiya's gaze turned cold as he looked toward the source of the commotion.
A group of drunken men staggered down the stairs. Their uniforms identified them as Shinigami—official squad members.
Shinigami behaving like this?
Someone in the crowd whispered urgently.
"They're from Squad Eleven…"
"Get out of here! If they target you, you're done for!"
"Damn it, anyone but those lunatics!"
Seiya blinked in disbelief.
Wait. Squad Eleven? Weren't they all battle-crazed maniacs? Since when did they have scum like this?
And then it hit him.
A hundred years ago, Squad Eleven's captain wouldn't have been Kenpachi Zaraki yet. So who's in charge now?
Before Seiya could ponder further, a heavy, languid voice echoed from the top of the stairs.
"What's taking so long…?"
A hulking figure stepped into view, each step reverberating through the room.
Massive and imposing, the man's bloated physique strained against his uniform, his labored breathing filling the air.
"Women, women, women…"
"All I asked for was a woman."
"And you idiots can't even manage that?"
With a swift kick, he sent one of his subordinates flying, the man crashing through several tables before lying motionless on the floor.
Seiya's gaze darted between the injured subordinate and the monstrous figure.
And then their eyes met.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder