As the night deepened over Karakura Town, the strange tension in the air remained palpable. Yato stared at the strange Shinigami who had just introduced himself as Fujimaru Kudo. The name rang no bells, and for a moment, Yato couldn't help but feel a slight unease. Soul Society was a massive place, filled with many souls and warriors, but even so, the sudden appearance of this unfamiliar Shinigami raised questions.
"Fujimaru..." Yato repeated the name softly, as if trying to pull something from the recesses of his mind. Yet, nothing came to him, and all he was left with was a blank.
Meanwhile, Don Kanonji, ever the eccentric, had already taken a liking to the young Shinigami. "Ah! With such polite manners, there's no way he could be a bad spirit! BOWAHAHAHA!" Kanonji boomed, slapping Fujimaru's back in a gesture of camaraderie. "And I, my young friend, am the century's premier spiritualist, Don Kanonji! What brings a polite young man like yourself to the world of the living?"
Fujimaru blinked, momentarily taken aback by Kanonji's overwhelming energy, before letting out a soft, awkward chuckle. His eyes shifted to Yato, clearly hoping for some sense of normalcy amidst the bizarre interaction. Yato caught the glance and realized he had yet to introduce himself.
"Oh... right. I'm Yato Yasakani." His voice was casual, almost too casual, as if he'd already grown tired of trying to make sense of this situation. He glanced at the still-dazed Shinigami. "So... Fujimaru. Why were you passed out here, anyway?"
Fujimaru's brow furrowed as he tried to recall the events that had led him here. "I... I don't know. A moment ago, I was in Soul Society. We were in the middle of a battle... and then..." His voice trailed off, confusion deepening the lines on his face.
"A battle in the afterlife!?" Don Kanonji exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement.
Yato's demeanor shifted slightly, concern creeping into his thoughts. 'A battle in Soul Society?' He knew Rukia had returned there recently. If there was a conflict... was she in danger?
"What kind of battle?" Yato asked, trying to keep his tone level, though his eyes sharpened with interest.
Fujimaru's face darkened as he recalled the events. "An Arrancar... a powerful one... leading an army of Hollows. They attacked Seireitei directly. Even the Captain-Commander, Yamamoto, was on the front lines alongside Captain Kyōraku, Captain Ukitake, Captain Urahara, Captain Shihōin..."
Before he could continue, Fujimaru suddenly facepalmed, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry. I doubt any of those names mean anything to you," he added with an apologetic laugh, clearly unaware of just how deep Yato's knowledge went.
Don Kanonji, however, wore a mask of thoughtful understanding, though it was obvious he had no clue what the Shinigami was talking about.
Yato raised an eyebrow. "Kisuke Urahara and Yoruichi Shihōin?"
Fujimaru's eyes widened in shock. "You... you know them?!"
Before Yato could answer, he turned to Don Kanonji, eager to separate himself from the bizarre interaction that was bound to continue. "Don Kanonji-san," he began, trying to sound respectful despite the absurdity of the situation, "do you mind if I... handle this investigation for you? It's something I think Ichigo will need to help with."
Kanonji's expression shifted from surprise to joy, a loud laugh booming from his chest. "So you do know my number one pupil!"
Yato, stifling a groan, nodded with a forced smile. "Yeah... we're classmates."
"Very well, my dear pupil number two! I leave this important task in your capable hands!" Don Kanonji declared grandly, giving Yato a firm pat on the back.
"Eh... pupil number two?" Yato's voice cracked slightly with disbelief, but he plastered on a grin.
With a flourish, Kanonji produced a business card from seemingly nowhere and handed it to Yato. "Should you ever need assistance, don't hesitate to call. The century's greatest spiritualist is at your service!" With a final bow and a dramatic wave, Kanonji made his exit, leaving Yato blinking after him in disbelief.
The silence that followed was almost jarring.
Yato stared at the card in his hand before tucking it away. Despite Kanonji's eccentricities, the man had a good heart. And while he wasn't exactly someone Yato considered useful in this kind of situation, there was something endearing about his willingness to help.
His thoughts were interrupted by the soft sound of Fujimaru clearing his throat, pulling Yato's attention back to the young Shinigami who still looked a bit out of sorts.
"Yasakani-san?" Fujimaru asked, his expression one of polite confusion.
Yato blinked, realizing he'd zoned out. 'Right. Focus.' "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about what you said earlier... about Urahara and Yoruichi being captains Soul Society..." Yato rubbed the back of his neck, the idea still swirling in his mind. 'Time travel? Could it be?'
'That's what it looks like~' came Cheshire's sly voice in Yato's mind.
'I didn't even know time travel was possible in this universe...' Yato thought, still trying to piece together the puzzle.
'You literally used your powers to do something similar... and traveled through time in the Dangai when you helped rescue Rukia.' Cheshire pointed out smugly.
'...Fair point...'
"Yasakani-san?" Fujimaru called again, a bit more hesitantly this time, as Yato had grown quiet again.
"Ah... sorry about that," Yato said, shaking himself back to the present. "Look, don't worry too much. I'll take you to meet Urahara. If anyone can make sense of this, it's him." He offered Fujimaru a reassuring smile, although inwardly, his mind was racing with unanswered questions.
Fujimaru's expression brightened with relief. "That would be great, thanks." He then glanced around the park, his curiosity piqued once again. "While we walk... could you tell me a bit about the world of the living? My sister and I were always curious about it... though, I guess I was more curious than she was."
The mention of a sister caught Yato's attention briefly, but he let it pass for now. Instead, he gave Fujimaru a casual grin. "Sure thing. There's a lot to explain, but it's probably not as glamorous as you're imagining."
As they started to move, Yato paused, an idea forming. "Actually, before we head over to Urahara's, do you mind giving me a hand with something? A friend of mine might be in trouble, and I could use the backup."
"Of course," Fujimaru said without hesitation, his eagerness clear in his tone. "If it's someone in need, I'd be happy to help."
Yato smiled at the Shinigami's willingness. "Great. Follow me, then."
Before Fujimaru could respond, Yato suddenly vanished in a blur of motion, leaving behind only a faint, shimmering trace of green light on the ground where he had stood. Fujimaru's eyes widened in shock.
"W-What? That was... fast!" He stood there for a split second, blinking in disbelief. 'Humans... shouldn't be that fast... right?' Fujimaru had met many powerful Shinigami in his time, but Yato's speed was something unexpected. Nevertheless, without wasting more time, Fujimaru uses his own Shunpō, dashing forward to follow, though he found it difficult to keep up.
As Yato sped through the city, the air around him crackled with unnatural energy. His senses were sharp, picking up on the growing disturbance in the atmosphere. Each step he took was accompanied by an unsettling sound, like the tearing of fabric, but much more intense, as if reality itself was unraveling. He had no doubt that more Hollows were appearing, each one emerging from the fractures in space.
Ahead of him, he could see a massive rift stretching from the ground all the way into the sky, like a scar splitting the very fabric of the world. The fissure pulsed with an eerie energy, casting dark shadows across the surrounding area. From within the tear, monstrous shapes began to take form. The biggest of them was unmistakable, its towering silhouette looming ominously in the distance.
A Menos Grande.
"Just what I needed," Yato muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing at the sight.
With a flick of his wrist, a vibrant burst of red energy materialized around his hand, spiraling into thin threads of power. From within the swirling crimson threads, his zanpakutō manifested itself, the cold steel of the blade settling firmly into his grip. The weapon shimmered faintly in the pale moonlight as he prepared for the battle ahead.
The Hollows gathered around, drawn to the spiritual energy of a nearby target, the Soul of a woman. She stood just a few feet away, her bright yellow kimono fluttering in the wind like a flame, her green eyes wide with fear. She had no chance against the Hollow horde closing in on her, their monstrous forms hungry for her soul.
In the blink of an eye, Yato vanished from his spot, reappearing directly between the Hollow and the woman. With a swift, fluid motion, he brought his zanpakutō down in a clean arc, the blade slicing through the Hollow's mask with ease. The creature disintegrated almost immediately, leaving nothing but a cloud of dark particles behind.
Turning to face the woman, Yato gave her a quick once-over to make sure she was unharmed. "Are you alright?" he asked, his tone casual despite the growing danger around them.
The woman blinked, her wide green eyes meeting his. "Yes… thank you," she said softly, her voice calm but filled with gratitude.
"Good," Yato replied, glancing around to ensure no more Hollows were approaching for the moment. "I'm going to send you somewhere... safe. They won't come after you anymore once I do." With that, he raised the hilt of his zanpakutō and gently placed it against her forehead, intending to perform a Konso, the ritual that would send her soul to Soul Society.
But nothing happened.
Yato frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he pulled the zanpakutō away and looked at the woman again. She seemed just as puzzled as he was, her brow furrowing slightly as she tilted her head in question.
"Huh?" Yato muttered, glancing at his zanpakutō.
Before he could dwell on the situation, his instincts flared again, and he turned on his heel just in time to slash through another Hollow that had crept up behind him. The creature let out a guttural screech before disintegrating into the night air.
Moments later, a gust of wind signaled the arrival of someone else. Fujimaru appeared beside Yato, panting heavily, his eyes wide as he took in the scene around them. The sight of the endless stream of Hollows, and worse, the Menos Grande towering ominously in the distance, sent a chill down his spine.
"Wait!" Fujimaru gasped, struggling to catch his breath. He took in the fissure in the sky, and the Menos that loomed like a mountain among the Hollows. "M-Menos Grande?!" His voice trembled with both fear and disbelief. This wasn't a situation he was prepared for, and the sheer presence of a Menos shook him to his core.
Fujimaru's eyes darted between Yato and the woman in the yellow kimono, his worry growing with each passing second. Drawing his own zanpakutō, he gripped the handle tightly, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to muster the courage to fight. 'Can I really handle this by myself...?' he thought to himself, doubt creeping in. He had faced Hollows before, but this... this was on a whole different scale.
Yato, on the other hand, stood before the Menos Grande with an air of quiet indifference. His posture was relaxed, his expression unreadable, as if the towering beast meant little to him. He had once been like Fujimaru, frightened, overwhelmed, unsure of his strength in the face of such a terrifying creature. But after everything he had endured in Soul Society, after facing captains and threats far beyond what he ever imagined, a Menos Grande now felt... trivial. The fear he had once felt was gone, replaced with a cold, calculated focus.
Yato's gaze sharpened as he tightened his grip on his zanpakutō, the blade glowing with a fierce, green light as he began to channel his spiritual energy.
With a swift, effortless motion, Yato swung his zanpakutō, releasing a brilliant arc of green energy that shot toward the Menos Grande with blinding speed. The beam of light sliced through the air, hitting the towering Hollow dead center. The Menos Grande let out a guttural roar as the energy surged through its massive body, the green light illuminating its dark form before it reached its mask.
The next moment, the colossal Hollow split in two, the force of Yato's attack cleaving it cleanly down the middle. The Menos Grande let out one final, echoing wail before its body disintegrated into the night, dissolving into countless particles that faded into the wind.
"He... he..." Fujimaru's voice trembled as he stared at Yato in complete disbelief. His mind struggled to comprehend what he had just witnessed. 'He defeated the Menos Grande... with a single strike...?' He had expected a long, drawn-out battle, but Yato had dispatched the enormous creature as though it were nothing more than an inconvenience.
For a moment, the battlefield was still, as though even the Hollows were taken aback by the sudden destruction of the Menos. But the pause was brief. Soon, the remaining Hollows roared, their hunger driving them forward once more, surging toward Yato, Fujimaru, and the lone spirit woman.
Yato readied himself to continue the fight. His grip tightened on his zanpakutō, his stance poised to strike down the remaining Hollows. But before he could act, a streak of orange light zipped through the air, striking a Hollow dead center and causing it to disintegrate on impact. Then, a blur of movement tore through the rest of the Hollows at incredible speed, defeating them one by one with precise punches.
"Hey! Yasakani-kun!" A familiar voice called out, full of energy.
Yato turned, his gaze falling on Orihime, who was waving cheerfully despite the mess around. Flanking her were Chad, his tall frame towering over the others, and Tatsuki, who looked ready to jump into the fray at any moment. And standing slightly apart was Uryū, the ever-composed Quincy, who was now wielding something unexpected, a glowing blade of light, reminiscent of a sword.
Yato raised an eyebrow in surprise but greeted them casually, as though they had simply met on the street. "Hey, everyone." His eyes landed on Uryū, noting the blade with interest. "Ishida… I thought your powers were gone?"
Uryū adjusted his glasses, his expression as stoic as ever. "My powers didn't disappear entirely, Yasakani. While I can't form my bow and arrow anymore, I still have my ways of dealing with Hollows." As he spoke, Uryū held up a glowing 'sword', the spiritual blade humming faintly with energy.
"Still getting used to seeing him with a sword instead of a bow, though." Tatsuki quipped with a smirk.
Uryū shot Tatsuki a quick, irritated glance. "Seele Schneider isn't exactly a sword, Arisawa. It's a spiritual tool—"
"Guys..." Chad's deep voice cut through the banter, his expression serious as he pointed toward the remaining Hollows that were still advancing.
Meanwhile, Fujimaru watched the scene unfold, his mind reeling. He had expected to face the Hollows alone, with maybe some help from Yato, but now… 'Who were these people?' They were clearly human, and yet… their spiritual pressure was extraordinary, almost on par with that of seasoned Shinigami.
Fujimaru stood frozen, watching in awe as this group, who he had initially thought were just ordinary humans, easily dispatched the remaining Hollows in and instant. Their strength, their coordination, was incredible. "Who… who are these people?" he whispered again, unable to comprehend how Yato was friends with beings of such power.
With the immediate threat neutralized, the battlefield quieted, leaving only the faint remnants of spiritual energy lingering in the air. The fissure in the sky had sealed itself, and the Hollows had been eradicated completely. The night sky slowly returned to its calm, though the heavy weight of recent battle still hung in the atmosphere.
Tatsuki, brushing some dirt off her hands, finally turned to Yato, her expression playful but with a sharp glint in her eyes. "Hey, Yato." Her voice was casual, but there was curiosity behind her words. She glanced over at Fujimaru and the spirit woman still standing near Yato. "Who are these two?" Her tone hinted at genuine interest, but there was also an expectation of a straightforward answer.
Yato sighed, running a hand through his hair as he prepared to explain. But before he could open his mouth, Tatsuki crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "And if you dare say 'it's a long story,' I swear I'll kick your ass." The threat was playful, but there was a spark in her eyes that made Yato hesitate.
He looked at her for a moment, then at the rest of the group, and finally at Fujimaru, who still seemed stunned by everything that had just unfolded. "Alright, alright," Yato muttered, raising his hands in mock surrender. "This guy here is Fujimaru Kudō."
"It's a pleasure to meet all of you." Fujimaru bowed slightly, still clearly processing the scene around him but trying to maintain some composure.
Yato then turned to the woman he had been protecting throughout the battle. "And this is…" he began, but the woman smiled warmly and stepped forward herself.
"My name is Shiyo." she said.
"I'm Orihime Inoue!" Orihime's smile was bright and full of warmth as she stepped forward.
"Tatsuki Arisawa, but just call me Tatsuki."
"Yasutora Sado." Chad offered a small nod.
Finally, Uryū, with his usual composed demeanor, gave a brief nod. "Uryū Ishida." He adjusted his glasses again, as if emphasizing the formality of his introduction.
Yato, now feeling the tension of introductions had passed, turned to his friends, scratching his head. "So… what are you all doing here?" His tone was lighter now, though there was genuine curiosity in his voice.
As the group exchanged glances, a quiet moment passed before Orihime answered with a smile. "We felt a huge surge of spiritual energy and came to help!"
Tatsuki, with a playful grin, added, "And honestly, we can't just let you hog all the fun."
Uryū adjusted his glasses with his signature precision. His expression was sharp, eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "Let's just say it was a precaution on our part. There have been an increasing number of Hollows with strange abilities lately... and they've been attacking more frequently." His voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of tension.
Yato's brow furrowed at Uryū's words. "So, you guys have also encountered these... strange Hollows?"
Chad, with his deep, quiet voice, nodded. "They've been attacking a lot more often."
Tatsuki's brow furrowed as she remembered one of the more recent attacks. "Yeah, one of them disguised itself as a normal person and tried to attack Orihime." There was a flash of anger in her eyes as she spoke, the protective instinct she had for her friends always burning just beneath the surface. "They're getting smarter, Yato. Something's off."
Yato's mind raced at the mention of Hollows using deception. He crossed his arms, looking down at the ground for a moment as he processed everything they were saying. These Hollows were more intelligent, more cunning. And now, with the frequency of attacks increasing, it felt like a coordinated effort rather than random incidents. But what could be behind it?
"I don't have a clue what's going on, but..." Yato paused. 'The only thing I can think of is that maybe... Aizen is doing something like modifying the Hollows somehow. But even for him... it's too soon. He doesn't have a complete Hōgyoku.'
**
As a traffic light blinks, Senna enters the graveyard she saw in her memories. As Senna walked into the graveyard, the quiet stillness of the night felt suffocating, as though the air itself was heavy with the weight of forgotten memories. The traffic light behind her blinked faintly, casting flashes of red and green across the iron gates and crumbling headstones. The cemetery stretched out before her like an endless labyrinth of sorrow and silence, each grave marker standing as a sentinel to lives long past.
Her footsteps echoed softly on the dirt path, her eyes tracing the cold stone slabs, each one engraved with names and dates that meant nothing to her...until they did. 'This place... I've been here before.'
Suddenly, the memories washed over her. The one from her fragmented memories. The funeral procession she had seen before began to play out before her eyes, as if she were walking through a scene from her past. Faint whispers of mourning voices drifted through the air like ghosts, and her heart clenched as she recognized the faces of people she hadn't thought of in so long.
"It was here... where my family..." Her voice was barely a whisper, heavy with the weight of realization.
She continued walking, her eyes fixed on a particular gravestone just ahead. As she approached it, her breath caught in her throat. Her own face stared back at her from the portrait embedded in the headstone. It was her funeral. The gravestone bore her name, the dates marking the beginning and the end of her life as a human.
"My... funeral..." Senna murmured in disbelief. Her gaze shifted to the grieving couple standing beside the grave. The woman, her face streaked with tears, held a tissue to her mouth as she sobbed uncontrollably. The man beside her was shaking, clutching the portrait of Senna with trembling hands, his tears flowing freely.
"Mom...? Dad...?" Senna's voice trembled, her heart aching at the sight of them.
But before she could take another step, the eerie serenity was shattered. A sudden force pulled her from her thoughts, a chill running down her spine as something reached out for her. Senna gasped as a Blank emerged from the shadows, its ghastly hand reaching for her. She wrenched herself free with a sharp tug, stumbling back, only to see more Blanks rising up around her like specters from the mist.
"These things again?" she muttered, scanning her surroundings, her senses sharpened as she prepared for a fight.
Without warning, a sudden shift in the air made her instincts scream. She barely had time to react as a massive figure descended from above, aiming to strike her down with a brutal attack. Senna leaped back, her body spinning through the air with graceful agility, flipping backward several times to put distance between herself and her assailant.
The ground where she had just stood cracked beneath the weight of the attack, the blow heavy enough to send dust and debris flying in all directions.
Standing before her was a towering man dressed in a dark green shihakushō, with an armored breastplate that gleamed faintly in the moonlight. His eyes were nearly closed, giving him a serene, almost unsettlingly calm expression. A dark green beret sat atop his head, and strapped to his waist were two chakram blades, their sharp edges glinting menacingly.
"Who are you?!" Senna demanded, her voice tense as she assumed a defensive stance, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
The man's lips curled into a smug smile. "You're sharper than you look," he replied, his voice carrying a condescending tone that set Senna on edge. As he spoke, the Blanks around them began to dissolve, vanishing into thin air as if they had never been there.
Before Senna could react further, her body began to shimmer with a soft light, the familiar warmth of her Shinigami form overtaking her. In a matter of seconds, her physical body dissolved into a flurry of red leaves, fluttering away into the night as her spiritual form emerged, clad in the traditional black robes of a Shinigami. Her hand instinctively moved to the hilt of her zanpakutō, her heart racing as she prepared for whatever was coming next.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with tension.
The man's smile didn't waver. He spun one of his chakrams lazily in his hand, his squinted eyes never fully opening. "I want you to come with us."
Senna's grip on her zanpakutō tightened. "Us?"
"Our leader, Ganryū-sama," the man continued, his tone casual but firm, "has ordered it. You have no choice."
Senna's heart pounded in her chest. This man, this Ganryū, had sent someone after her. She could feel the weight of the man's reiatsu, and it was clear that he wasn't just some ordinary thug.
"Ganryū? I don't know who you're talking about... And I don't take orders from anyone." Senna retorted, her voice strong and unwavering. With a swift motion, she unsheathed her zanpakutō, the blade gleaming in the pale moonlight.
The man scoffed, clearly unimpressed, his gaze narrowing. "You don't need to know who he is," he sneered. "You're just a—"
"Jai," a sharp male voice cut through the night, interrupting him. "I told you only to say what's necessary."
Senna whipped around, her eyes darting to the new presence. Behind her stood four more figures, their forms cloaked in dark green shihakushō uniforms that matched Jai's.
The one who had spoken first had spiky blue hair and wore a sleeveless dark green shihakushō, his waist cinched with a yellow obi belt. A dark green beret sat on his head, and steel armor covered his face, exposing only his sharp, calculating eyes.
"And jumping down on your own like that…" another voice reprimanded. This time it was a tall woman with deep lavender hair that cascaded in soft waves down her back. Her skin was tanned, and there was an edge to her tone that made it clear she wasn't impressed by Jai's antics.
Jai threw his head back and laughed, ignoring their reprimands. "Relax. I'll capture her soon enough."
But Senna wasn't about to stand around waiting. The energy around her surged, her reiatsu igniting in vibrant bursts that seemed to ripple in the cold air, and she launched herself forward. Red leaves appeared around her, swirling like an angry storm as she closed the distance in a heartbeat, her zanpakutō flashing toward Jai.
He blocked with one of his chakrams, their blades clashing in a spark of energy, but Jai was quicker than she expected. With a swift motion, he delivered a punch that landed squarely in her midsection, sending her flying backward. She crashed into a gravestone, the impact knocking the wind from her lungs. Before she could recover, Jai closed the distance, his hand clamping down around her throat and hoisting her up with ease.
"Ready to go?" he sneered, his grip tightening.
"Hey," a voice called out from behind, casual but laced with danger. Jai turned, his grip loosening in surprise. Standing nearby, Ichigo Kurosaki smirked, his hand resting on the hilt of his massive zanpakutō, which gleamed in the dim light. "You planning on going somewhere?"
Jai's eyes narrowed, his irritation flaring. "Where did you come from?" he snarled, but before he could react, Ichigo moved in a blur of speed. His blade flashed, slicing cleanly through Jai's arm, severing it and forcing him to release Senna.
Jai staggered back, clutching his bleeding stump, his expression shifting from anger to shock as he faced Ichigo.
Ichigo didn't even spare Jai a full glance, instead turning his gaze toward Senna, his eyes narrowed in a mix of concern and frustration. "Why did you run off on your own?" he demanded, his voice laced with impatience but softened by a hint of relief.
Senna frowned, crossing her arms as she pushed herself up, her expression defiant. "I can do whatever I want, Ichigo!" she shot back, her voice prickly with indignation.
Ichigo raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "No, you can't. Not until you've kept your promise," he replied pointedly, keeping his eyes trained on Jai, who still seethed with rage. "And hey, big guy," Ichigo added, smirking. "Sorry about the arm."
Jai's face twisted with fury, his voice trembling with rage. "You bastard… I'll never forgive you! I'll tear you apart!" He staggered forward, clutching his wound, his eyes blazing.
Just as Jai's comrades tensed, readying themselves to retaliate, a sudden shimmer of red threads appeared around them, surrounding them like a net of woven light. The threads glowed faintly, stretching from the ground and looping into intricate patterns
"I'd suggest you all start running." A lazy, almost amused voice drifted over to them. Yato appeared nearby, a faint smirk playing at his lips as he casually held up his hand, red threads weaving from his fingers to reinforce the barrier. Behind him stood Tatsuki, Orihime, Chad, Uryū, Fujimaru, and Shiyo.
Jai's comrades exchanged wary glances, their resolve faltering. The blue-haired man, who had earlier reprimanded Jai, let out a deep sigh, a trace of reluctance in his posture. "Jai. Enough. Now isn't the time," he muttered, his tone carrying a finality that left no room for argument.
With a brief, disdainful look toward Ichigo and the others, Jai hesitated, his fury still boiling beneath the surface. But left with no choice, he allowed himself to fade back, his figure dissolving into shadow until he vanished completely alongside his comrades, leaving behind only a faint wisp of reiatsu.
As the last traces of their presence disappeared, the tension in the air finally eased. The group relaxed slightly, though their eyes remained vigilant.
"Hey, Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime called out with a bright wave.
"Hey." Ichigo looked over, raising an eyebrow. "What're you all doing here?"
Orihime flashed a big smile. "We're just out for a little midnight stroll." She said. The comment drew a chuckle from Yato and Tatsuki, though Chad and Uryū stayed as stoic as ever.
"A midnight stroll at 3 a.m…?" he muttered skeptically.
As he turned back to the group, Senna began inching away, hoping to slip off unnoticed, only to freeze when Ichigo's voice rang out, sharp and knowing. "Hey!"
"Busted…" Senna mumbled, giving a sheepish laugh.
"Why did you run off like that?" Ichigo demanded, crossing his arms, his gaze hardening with exasperation.
Senna's eyes flared with defiance. "I didn't run away!" she insisted. Then, her expression softened, and her gaze drifted toward the tombstones nearby. "It's just… this cemetery…" Her voice grew quieter. "It's where my family was buried."
Ichigo's suspicion softened, though he still looked unconvinced. "You don't have to make up stories, you know…" he sighed.
"It's not a story," Senna replied with a quiet smile. Her tone became gentle, almost wistful. "I remember… not clearly, but there are these pieces of memories. I wanted to see it for myself. My house… it used to be nearby too."
The group stood in silence for a moment, and Tatsuki elbowed Yato lightly, breaking the quiet. "So, who is she?" she whispered, nodding toward Senna.
Yato hesitated, then replied, "Her name's Senna."
"Kuchiki-san's temporary replacement?" Uryū speculated, adjusting his glasses thoughtfully.
Yato scratched his head. "Not exactly. She's… let's just say she's a Shinigami we're helping out for now." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Kind of like our other friend here." He gestured toward Fujimaru, whose awestruck gaze hadn't left Ichigo.
Tatsuki raised an eyebrow. "So, just another Shinigami we're cleaning up after. Nothing new, then." She crossed her arms, looking amused.
Finally, Fujimaru seemed to gather his thoughts. Turning toward Ichigo, he blurted out, "Sir Kaien, what happened to your hair for it to be orange like that?"
Ichigo frowned, a twitch of annoyance crossing his face. "Are you talking to me?" he asked, tone brimming with irritation. "My name is Ichigo Kurosaki, and yeah, my hair is naturally orange. Got a problem with it?"
Fujimaru's face flushed. "Ah—no, not at all! he quickly backtracked, scratching the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile. "I thought… you looked like someone I know. Sorry about that."
Ichigo's scowl softened, but he still looked somewhat irked as he glanced at Yato. "So, who are these two anyway?"
"Right," Yato said, gesturing to the newcomers. "This is Fujimaru Kudō," he said, nodding at the Shinigami. "And this is Shiyo." He motioned to the girl in the bright yellow kimono. "I was taking them to Urahara's place, but we ran into a mess of Hollows and even a Menos on the way here."
"Then we'd better all head there together," Ichigo replied firmly. "I want to see if Urahara knows anything about the guys who attacked Senna."
Yato's grin turned sly as he shrugged nonchalantly. "Leave it to me, Ichigo. Your family's probably wondering where you are this late, right? Especially since I'm pretty sure you didn't bring Kon with you... again. Your body's probably lying around somewhere, looking pretty dead."
Ichigo tensed, flashing an exasperated look. "Damn it, Yato… You really had to bring that up?"
Yato gave Senna an encouraging smile, his eyes alight with mischief. "Stick close to Ichigo for now, Senna. Just in case."
Senna scoffed, folding her arms in defiance. "And why would I do that?" The idea clearly didn't appeal to her.
"You just got attacked," Yato replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Plus, someone's got to keep an eye on Ichigo for me." His grin widened as he watched Senna's reaction.
Senna smirked, lifting her hand in a mock salute that mirrored Yato's tone. "Right, got it. Babysitting duty," she replied, throwing a sidelong, teasing glance at Ichigo, who groaned.
"Knock it off," Ichigo muttered, irritation clear in his voice. But before Senna could react further, he had grabbed her by the wrist, muttering about how he didn't get why she couldn't just stay at Yato's place instead. "I'll catch you all tomorrow," he called back over his shoulder as he and Senna made their way off.
As Ichigo and Senna disappeared down the shadowed path, Fujimaru turned to the others, a bit sheepishly. "He really does look a lot like Sir Kaien…"
Yato's expression flickered at the mention of Kaien, but he kept his gaze forward, staying silent.
Orihime looked around, sensing the air felt unusually calm after such an intense night. "Do you think there'll be more Hollows showing up tonight?"
Tatsuki narrowed her gaze, attuned to any spiritual disturbances. "I don't feel any more presences for now," she said, her tone confident but cautious.
"Good," Yato nodded. "You all should get some rest, then. I'll take Fujimaru and Shiyo over to Urahara's, but I don't plan on sticking around too long."
Uryū stepped forward, his eyes flashing with something more intense than usual. "Actually, there's something I wanted to discuss with you, Yasakani," he said. "Mind if I tag along?"
"Sure, no problem," Yato replied, nodding. He then turned his attention to Orihime, Chad, and Tatsuki. "What about you guys?"
Chad looked down with his usual calm seriousness. "I need to help out with a few things at the gym later on."
Orihime clasped her hands excitedly. "I was planning to stop by a convenience store to pick up a few ingredients! I have this new recipe I want to try," she said, her eyes sparkling.
Tatsuki sighed, but there was warmth behind it. "Then I'll come with you, just to be safe," she muttered, watching Orihime's enthusiastic expression with resigned amusement. Then, she pulled her phone from her pocket and glanced up at Yato. "Hey, Yato. I'll give you my number. Just in case anything happens."
Yato blinked, as if only now realizing that exchanging contact information might have been useful. "Oh… actually, I never got any of your numbers." He grinned sheepishly, pulling out his phone, unaware of the exchange of looks that was happening between Orihime and Tatsuki. Orihime gave Tatsuki a mischievous nudge, which Tatsuki pretended not to notice.
After a few quick exchanges, Yato saved not only Tatsuki's number but also Chad's, Uryū's, and Orihime's. With a few quick waves, the trio went their separate ways, leaving Yato, Uryū, Fujimaru, and Shiyo alone as they began their walk toward Urahara's shop.
As they strolled through the quiet, shadowed streets, Shiyo's eyes sparkled, her cheerful grin bright against the midnight gloom. "Your friends seem really nice." she said, her voice soft but brimming with warmth.
Fujimaru nodded in agreement, casting a quick glance back in the direction they had come from. "And they seem pretty powerful, too." he remarked, a note of admiration in his voice.
Uryū, walking calmly beside them, adjusted his glasses and then looked over at Yato. "By the way, Yasakani," he began, his voice carrying a hint of formality. "Do you remember our conversation at the hospital, during the Bount attack?"
Yato's eyebrow arched slightly, his expression momentarily puzzled as if trying to recall. But then, with a flash of recognition, he nodded. "Oh, right. That," he murmured. "Why?"
"Have you made any progress?" Uryū's tone was even, but there was a hint of curiosity in his gaze.
He was referring to Yato's Quincy powers, something they had discussed once briefly and Yato had confided that he didn't quite know how to use them.
Yato rubbed the back of his head, looking a bit sheepish. "Honestly… I haven't really tried since," he admitted, a slight chuckle in his voice. "I have this habit—when I try something and it goes really wrong, I end up avoiding it for a while." He dropped his voice, leaning a bit closer to Uryū. "You remember the crack in my face when we were up against Kariya?"
The memory was vivid for Uryū. That moment had been unsettling, to say the least. It was as though Yato's face had started to fracture, like porcelain threatening to shatter. "The powers linked to those red threads?" Uryū asked, his tone curious but cautious. "Have you figured out where they come from?"
Yato's gaze dropped slightly, a rare seriousness crossing his face as he nodded. "I have… but it's a long story." His voice was low, a rare note of gravity in his usual casual tone. The gravity of his tone seemed to ripple through the air around them, even causing Fujimaru and Shiyo, walking just a few paces behind, to exchange curious glances.
Noticing their hushed conversation, Shiyo tilted her head and leaned forward. "What are you two talking about?" she asked, her curiosity evident in her wide eyes.
Caught off guard, Yato glanced at Uryū before fumbling for an excuse. "Ah, uh… my back pain," he replied nonchalantly, not even pausing to invent a better explanation. Miraculously, both Fujimaru and Shiyo seemed to accept it, nodding as though it made perfect sense.
"Oh! Maybe I can help!" Shiyo's eyes lit up with eagerness, and before Yato could even protest, she stepped behind him, her hands reaching out toward his back. He froze as her hands began to glow with a soft green energy, the unmistakable aura of a healing Kidō spell.
A bead of nervous sweat formed on Yato's forehead, while Uryū looked on, surprised and mildly amused. Meanwhile, something was going through the minds of Yato and Fujimaru.
'She's using healing Kidō?'