[Bonding Event: Edging]
[Your bond with Neliel has increased!↑]
[Rewards: Spiritual Pressure +1, Talent Point +1]
[Bond Trait Acquired: Edging]
[Spiritual Pressure: Lower Fourth Rank → Middle Fourth Rank]
[Talent Points: 2]
[Bond Trait: Edging]
- After delivering emotionally charged dialogue, all actions (swordsmanship, hand-to-hand, movement, Kidō) achieve perfect efficiency, minimizing wasted effort.
- Passively disrupts enemy aggression through speech, provoking them into recklessness.
[Note: "Edging"—From Don't Edge]
---
When Fujimiya Makoto awoke, a translucent panel hovered before his eyes.
Reading its contents, he exhaled in relief.
Good. I'm still alive.
Even with his Zanpakutō's help, his "Half-Step Great Perfection Peak" Shikai had been a desperate gamble. He knew full well how flawed it was.
That was why, during the script, he hadn't indulged in games like "grown-ups riding horseback" with Neliel—this was a life-or-death situation. He had to think rationally.
Thankfully, his final strike had connected.
As for what happened after...
Probably rescued by a passing Visored?
Makoto tried to sit up but found himself immobilized.
Glancing down, he saw thick white restraint straps binding him to the bed.
Turning his head, he spotted Saiyō Furafushi sprawled on a bamboo recliner beside him, a trail of drool at the corner of her mouth.
"Saiyō-sensei? Furafushi-chan?"
His throat was dry, his voice hoarse.
Snap.
Saiyō's peaceful nap ended abruptly. Blinking drowsily, she scanned the room before locking onto Makoto.
The twin-tailed loli's face lit up. She smacked his shoulder cheerfully:
"Took you long enough, idiot! I thought you were done for this time!"
"Agh—!"
Makoto gasped in pain.
Now that he was awake, he realized his entire body felt inflated—every muscle ached unbearably.
"W-water first... And why am I here?!"
He frowned at his dorm room. Shouldn't a critically injured patient be in Tenjirō Kirinji's hot springs?
"Ugh, so needy!"
Saiyō, never one for caretaking, still fetched him a cup.
As she helped him drink, she explained:
"Blame the Seireitei idiots."
"The Genji Dojo's packed with amputees. Almost everyone's been rotated through the battlefield except a few reserves."
"After emergency treatment, Kirinji kicked you out to recover on your own—minor injuries."
Makoto's eyes widened.
"Minor?!"
He distinctly remembered his arm and half his ribs being shattered.
But when he tested his left arm, it moved without issue.
Saiyō noticed his confusion and shrugged:
"Kirinji said your residual spiritual pressure passively healed most injuries."
"Only your Soul Chain cracked from the overload."
"But it'll heal."
Makoto sighed.
"So that's why. That guy... truly impressive."
"But why tie me down?"
He wriggled like a fish on a chopping board. The straps—made of some unbreakable material—held firm.
Then he noticed Saiyō's eerie grin.
"Because I had you sealed!"
"...Huh?"
Before he could react, Saiyō shunpo'd onto his stomach, her single eye gleaming dangerously.
"You... hid things from me, didn't you?"
"Wh-what hiding?"
"Still playing dumb?" She scoffed. "After retrieving you, I had the battlefield analyzed."
"Two spiritual pressures—at least Second Rank—clashed at the epicenter."
"The terrain's permanently altered."
"Makoto..."
She leaned in, gripping his chin, her smile dripping with menace:
"Liar."
"Uh..."
Makoto stiffened.
He knew exactly what she meant.
But he couldn't explain.
The remnants did suggest a Second Rank-level clash. Denying it would only provoke her further.
Worse, if she forced his "full power" out...
His Shikai, even if mastered, was not something he could use on Saiyō!
What if another script triggered?
"The No-Love-For-24-Hours Escape Room"?
Or "Hypnosis! All-Female Genji Dojo vs. Disciplinary Committee Chair Saitō"?
Makoto knew his system too well.
If anyone found out, he'd rather die.
Saiyō, mistaking his silence for defiance, tightened her grip on his ear:
"Well?"
"Fujimiya-kun~?"
Beneath her teasing tone, fury simmered.
First that woman, Yachiru. Now this brat.
Both flaunted their talent, looking down on those who clawed their way up from nothing.
Especially Makoto.
Weakling. Yet he dared hold back against her?
Even when beaten black and blue, he refused to go all out.
Infuriating.
If he didn't give a damn good excuse...
She'd beat the truth out of him.
Every last drop.
Just as she resolved this, Makoto turned away, mumbling:
"Because..."
"Speak up!"
She pressed her ear to his lips.
Makoto blurted out the first excuse that came to mind:
"Because... if I showed everything at once..."
"How could I take it further?"
"Hah?!"
Saiyō froze. The uncultured girl puzzled over "take it further."
Makoto, now fully committed, took a deep breath.
Who cared? His "footwear fetish" was already infamous. One more perverted title wouldn't hurt!
All for Hoho mastery!
Emboldened, he yelled:
"I-I've outgrown just tabi socks!"
"If Saiyō-chan wants to fight stronger me, she'll need to offer more!"
"Exactly!"
"My holding back is your fault!"
"Want the horse to run? Then feed the horse!"
"More! More!"
"Saiyō-chan, do you even understand hearts?!"
"Ehhh—?!"
Saiyō recoiled, her single eye wide with disbelief.
W-what kind of reason was that?!
But then she spotted the tabi socks still dangling from his sword sheath...
And hesitated.
If it was Makoto... maybe it made sense?
His name was synonymous with "foot stench" across the Genji Dojo.
Even his Zanpakutō chimed in:
[Ooooh! Makoto!]
[How you've grown!]
[Embracing your true self at last!]
[I'm so proud, son!]
Hearing this, Saiyō's doubts faded—Zanpakutō wouldn't lie.
Makoto lay there, fighting tears.
A long silence followed.
Then, cheeks faintly pink, Saiyō muttered without meeting his eyes:
"So... what exactly do you want?"
"Huh?!"
Makoto stared.
She was serious?
Noticing his shock, she snapped:
"N-not anything weird, got it?!"
Makoto blinked.
"Untie me first."
"Then..."
"Foot massages to start?"