In the Soul Society, Renji moved quickly through the hallways, his lieutenant's badge secured tightly around his arm. His red hair was pulled back, though a few strands fell loose over his face as he strode past two young Soul Reapers.
"Good morning, Lieutenant Abarai!" they greeted, stepping aside respectfully.
"Yeah, morning," Renji muttered, barely sparing them a glance.
His mind was elsewhere.
He reached a heavy iron door at the end of the corridor. With a swift motion, he pulled out a key and twisted it in the lock. The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room.
Inside, the guard on duty was... flailing?
Renji blinked. The man was stumbling around, arms stretched out, trying to catch a black butterfly fluttering lazily in front of him.
The hell is this idiot doing?
Renji sighed, then—
WHAM!
He delivered a sharp kick to the guard's back, sending him sprawling forward with a startled yell.
"YOW!" The guard hit the ground, groaning as he twisted to face Renji. "What was that for!?"
Renji crossed his arms, unimpressed. "You should be able to handle the damn Hell Butterflies by now, fool. What the hell kind of guard gets distracted like that?"
The man winced, rubbing his lower back. "I thought you were off duty today…"
Renji ignored the excuse. His focus was already shifting to the cell at the far end of the room. He stepped closer, his voice dropping slightly. "I'm just here to check on the prisoner. How is she?"
The guard sat up with a grunt, glancing toward the cell. "Miss Kuchiki? She's the same as last night. Hasn't eaten anything."
Renji exhaled through his nose and approached the bars, leaning one arm against them. "Hey."
A small, pale figure sat inside, back against the wall, legs pulled loosely to her chest.
At first, Rukia didn't respond.
"Oi," Renji tried again. "How long are you gonna sulk? You'd better eat something, or you won't survive long enough to be executed."
That got her attention.
Rukia turned to face him, her violet eyes meeting his. "I'm not sulking," she said evenly. "I'm just not hungry… Mr. Assistant Captain."
Renji snorted. "Does my rank bother you?"
"Not really," she mused, tilting her head slightly. "You must've worked hard to get promoted in just two months. I'm impressed."
Her tone had the slightest teasing lilt to it.
Renji smirked. "Damn right I did."
The two exchanged a few more barbs, their usual bickering lasting for a moment before the cell fell quiet again.
Then, Rukia spoke.
"…I'm really going to be executed, aren't I?"
Renji's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes darkened.
"Of course you are." He let the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, "Any day now."
Rukia swallowed.
Then—
"I'm just kidding."
Rukia frowned. "What?"
Renji leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. "Captain Kuchiki is on his way to headquarters. He'll probably request a reduced sentence for you. He's your older brother—he won't just stand by and let you be killed."
Rukia stared at him, searching his face for certainty.
But deep down, she wasn't sure if she believed it.
Her gaze drifted upward, toward the stone ceiling above her.
'I miss Ichigo already…' she thought, closing her eyes.
...
"This lesson was about one thing—whether or not you could survive the first blow," Urahara said, twirling his cane lazily in his hand. "But it seems you've excelled. If there was a grade, I'd give you a 99."
Ichigo scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "Only 99?"
Urahara chuckled. "You see, spirit energy increases most quickly when a Konpaku is placed in a life-or-death situation. The more extreme the danger, the more potential growth. Which brings us to the next lesson."
Ichigo smirked. "Alright, what's next?"
The answer came instantly.
SHWAK!
A massive axe swung down, the blade cleaving straight through Ichigo's Chain of Fate.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Ichigo's gaze shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he followed the severed links clattering onto the ground. He turned toward Urahara, who was smiling behind his fan.
"You don't seem that shocked," Urahara observed, lowering the fan slightly. "Well, allow me to explain—now that your Chain of Fate has been severed, you can't return to your body." His voice took on an eerie calmness. "You're going to die."
Ichigo didn't flinch.
Urahara's grin widened. "The encroachment of the chain will begin soon. When it reaches your chest, a big hole will be eaten there—right through your heart. And then, you'll become a Hollow. The End."
He watched Ichigo carefully, waiting for a reaction.
Nothing.
No panic. No fear. Just a quiet, steady gaze.
Urahara tilted his head. "Wow, you're boring." He snapped his fan shut. "Well, there is a way to survive this."
Ichigo raised a brow.
"The only way... is if you become a Soul Reaper."
Before Ichigo could respond, the ground beneath him vanished.
WHOOSH!
He plummeted down a dark pit.
BAM!
The landing was rough, but Ichigo barely had time to react before Tessai followed after him, his massive form descending like a shadow.
CLINK!
Ichigo felt something heavy lock around his arms.
Tessai had bound him, restraining his movements completely.
He exhaled sharply. 'Tch... sneaky bastards.'
Then, he felt it.
The pain.
A sharp, gnawing sensation spread through his chest.
He glanced down. His Chain of Fate—now severed—had begun to devour itself, link by link.
Each chomp sent a dull ache through his core, the creeping sensation of encroachment beginning its slow advance.
But instead of struggling, instead of panicking—Ichigo sat down.
Legs crossed. Eyes closed.
He focused.
'Let's just get this over with…' he thought.
From above, Urahara observed, tapping his cane against his shoulder.
Then, a smile crept onto his face.
'How did this kid learn that?' he mused.
....
Outside, the afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky, casting long shadows over the quiet streets. Orihime and Chad stood side by side, their expressions a mix of determination and uncertainty. The weight of their decision loomed over them—they were about to step into a world far beyond anything they had ever known.
As they waited, a soft rustling came from a nearby alley.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A sleek black cat emerged from the shadows, moving with an almost unnatural grace. Its piercing golden eyes studied them both with an intelligence that didn't belong to an ordinary feline.
Orihime clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. "Aww, what a cute kitty!"
The cat let out a dry chuckle. "Flattery won't make this any easier, girl."
Both Orihime and Chad blinked.
"A talking cat…?" Chad murmured, his deep voice laced with surprise.
Orihime tilted her head. "Wait, do all cats talk in the Soul Society?"
The black cat—Yoruichi—sighed. "No, just the special ones." He flicked his tail and sat down, his golden eyes narrowing. "Now, listen up. If you insist on going to the Soul Society, you'll need training."
He paused for effect, letting the gravity of his words sink in.
"My lessons aren't for the faint of heart."
The wind rustled through the trees, and the air seemed to grow heavier.
Chad clenched his fists. "I understand. I'll do whatever it takes."
Orihime hesitated for only a second before nodding firmly. "Me too! If we're going to help, we have to be strong enough."
Yoruichi smirked, his tail flicking once. "Good. Then let's begin."
TO BE CONTINUED