The four figures, Yato, Uryū, Fujimaru, and Shiyo, approached the entrance of the Urahara Shop, a small, seemingly unassuming candy store nestled among quiet buildings. 'Could this simple store really be a base of operations?' he wondered, his expression growing more bewildered.
Shiyo, beside him, looked equally curious but less skeptical. "Oh, a candy shop?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with innocent enthusiasm.
"Sort of…" Yato replied with a small smile, enjoying their surprise. He stepped toward the door, but before he could reach it, the door creaked open, and a young boy with striking red hair appeared in the frame, squinting at them. It was Jinta, his face displaying clear irritation, likely due to having been woken at an ungodly hour.
"Ah… it's just you guys," Jinta grumbled, sounding unimpressed. He turned back into the shop, his voice echoing in the quiet night air as he called out, "Hey, Ururu! Go wake up the boss!"
Moments later, slow footsteps echoed from the depths of the shop. Urahara himself shuffled into view, his eyes still bleary and a wide yawn escaping his lips. He adjusted his signature striped hat as he came closer, muttering to himself. "I was having such a nice sleep…" he lamented, only half awake.
Fujimaru's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Urahara in his shopkeeper garb "Captain Urahara!?" Fujimaru exclaimed, his surprise clear in both his tone and expression.
"Huh?" Urahara paused, his eyes narrowing as he squinted at the unfamiliar face in front of him. "And who might you be?" he asked, still not fully awake.
Fujimaru hesitated, unsure of how to explain himself. The weight of seeing Urahara seemed to have left him at a loss for words.
Uryū leaned closer to Yato, whispering, "Did he just call Urahara-san 'Captain'? What exactly is going on here?"
Yato gave a small shrug, whispering back with a tired smirk, "I'll explain later…"
Urahara blinked again, studying Fujimaru more closely now that his vision was clearing. His eyes widened briefly in recognition. "Oh!" he said, his tone shifting from groggy to intrigued as he registered the young Shinigami before him.
Meanwhile, Yato stifled a yawn and mumbled, "Urahara-san, it's almost dawn… and I'd really like to get some sleep."
Urahara turned to him, smiling in his usual mysterious manner. "Not a problem, Yasakani-san. You and Ishida-san can head home to rest." Then, addressing Fujimaru and Shiyo, he added, "I'll have Jinta prepare some rooms for you both."
Taking the hint, Uryū gave a polite nod, adjusting his glasses. "In that case, goodnight."
"Goodnight, everyone." Yato murmured through another yawn, already turning away with Uryū by his side.
Fujimaru, still slightly taken aback, gave a respectful bow. "Thank you for everything, Yasakani-san. Your help was invaluable."
Shiyo clasped her hands in front of her and smiled warmly. "Yes, thank you so much," she added gratefully, watching as Yato and Uryū began to retreat into the night.
Yato and Uryū walked through the quiet streets of Karakura Town. The silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of streetlights and the soft rustling of wind. It was a moment of peace, a calm that seemed rare in their lives lately. But as they moved further into the stillness, Uryū broke the silence.
"Yasakani," he began, his tone inquisitive yet measured, "you mentioned problems when you attempted to use your Quincy abilities… What exactly went wrong?"
Yato sighed, scratching his head with a frustrated half-smile. "Well… back in the Soul Society, I thought absorbing reishi would feel similar to how I usually draw on the 'soul' of objects with my other powers. But for some reason, I just… couldn't absorb anything. Not even a trace. And we were surrounded by reishi there.... it's practically everywhere. But every time I tried to connect with it, it was like trying to grab smoke; nothing worked," he explained, his voice tinged with irritation.
He hesitated, looking down at the ground as if sorting through his memories, then continued. "After we got back from Soul Society, I gave it another shot. And... things went sideways. Not only did it not work, but I actually started feeling really sick. I passed out, had this insane fever, and Nemu told me my soul was on the verge of what she called 'Soul Suicide'… No idea why." Yato shook his head, a faint shudder running through him as he recalled the incident.
Uryū's brow furrowed deeply. He'd initially assumed Yato had struggled to form a spiritual bow, or maybe just had some difficulty in managing reishi flow. But a near-death experience from simply trying to absorb reishi? That was unprecedented and deeply concerning. 'Could it be because of his hybrid soul?' he wondered silently, analyzing Yato's symptoms with a critical eye.
"Ironic, really," Yato added, his voice softening. "I didn't start feeling stable again until that Hollow tried to possess me."
Uryū's gaze sharpened at the mention. "And what's the status with that Hollow now?" he asked, his tone cautious. He knew firsthand the dangers of such spiritual encounters, and something about Yato's casual manner put him on edge.
Yato's eyes drifted, and he ruffled his already messy hair as if searching for the right words. In truth, he had absorbed the Hollow into his own soul intentionally, merging its essence with his own in an attempt to stabilize his unique soul...a mix of Human, Shinigami, Hollow, and Quincy. But he wasn't ready to admit the extent of that decision to Uryū, who he knew would react with alarm.
"It's… weird." he finally said, his voice guarded. "Sometimes I can hear its voice, faintly, as if it's lurking somewhere in the back of my mind. And whenever I get angry, I feel its reiatsu pushing out, trying to break free." He shrugged, downplaying his unease. "I try not to push myself too hard with my powers these days. Last thing I need is for that thing to go berserk."
"I see." Uryū replied carefully, picking up on the subtle tension beneath Yato's nonchalance. Rather than pressing further, he allowed Yato a moment to settle. "I would like to help you with your Quincy abilities, if you're interested. I might not be able to give live demonstrations right now, but I could help figure out what's causing the trouble."
Yato blinked, a bit taken aback by Uryū's offer but ultimately grateful. He knew his issue wasn't really about learning Quincy techniques. Still, he figured he'd go along with Uryū's advice and see what happened. "Yeah, that'd be helpful. So… what do we start with?"
"Well, if I'm understanding your abilities right, they let you manipulate the soul within the physical matter, correct?" Uryū said, observing him closely. "What does it feel like when you do that?"
Yato scratched the back of his head, trying to put the experience into words. "Yeah… it's like I can sense the soul in everything around me... and then I just… reach out to it. Pull the soul, if you will. It's like… tugging on a veil, feeling it shift under my control. I reshape or reconfigure that energy, like pulling threads from a fabric." He trailed off, looking at Uryū with a faintly frustrated expression. "It's hard to explain."
Uryū adjusted his glasses, a glimmer of understanding lighting up his gaze. "Interesting. Actually, that's closer to the core of Quincy power than you realize," he explained, his voice taking on a thoughtful cadence as he delved into his explanation. "Our power is also about connecting with the essence of things, but we absorb Reishi, the spiritual particles floating in the atmosphere. It's more abstract than the way you pull from something physical, but in concept, it's not too different."
"So… it's just like pulling the soul from objects?" Yato asked.
"Not exactly," Uryū clarified, considering his words. "With Quincy abilities, it's less about drawing on the essence within an object and more about gathering and absorbing the reishi that's dispersed in the air. Reishi isn't contained within something solid... it flows freely, like a river of particles that we can channel into our attacks or use to strengthen ourselves. The Quincy bow, for example, is formed from pure reishi we collect, rather than any inherent soul we reshape." Uryū paused, assessing Yato's unique challenges. "If I had to guess, I'd say the core problem lies in the nature of your abilities. Your power is fundamentally built around reshaping a solid soul essence in tangible objects. When you try to pull from an atmosphere filled with raw reishi, you're essentially trying to reshape something that's naturally diffuse and unstable."
Yato's eyebrows lifted slightly, a flash of understanding dawning. "So, it's like I'm trying to grab a handful of fog?"
"Exactly." Uryū's expression softened with approval. "Your instinct to 'pull' works perfectly on solid matter with a grounded spiritual essence. But reishi behaves differently; it's almost as if you need to gather it with a gentler touch...rather than forcing it, you draw it in by creating an attraction. Think of it like calling it toward you rather than gripping it directly."
As Yato finished listening to Uryū's explanation, a faint smile crossed his face. There was a flicker of gratitude in his gaze, a rare openness that his usual carefree demeanor didn't always reveal. "Thanks, Ishida." he said with a nod, acknowledging the Quincy's insight more genuinely than usual.
Uryū offered a small smile in return, feeling a rare warmth in his chest at the exchange. Yato was a curious case, one of those people Uryū couldn't always read but was glad to help, especially if it meant sharing something that reignited his own sense of purpose.
With a quick nod of farewell, Yato turned and, in a flash, disappeared, using his high-speed movement to dart through the streets, eager to get home and crash into bed. He had no real intention of attempting Quincy techniques any time soon, but seeing Uryū discuss Quincy lore with such intensity reminded him how much it meant to his friend. Talking about Quincy skills clearly reignited something within Uryū, and letting him explain seemed like the least Yato could do.
Once Yato had left, Uryū took a deep breath and started toward his own home. But the stillness of the early morning was suddenly shattered by a guttural roar. A Hollow.
"Tsk… of course, now of all times?" Uryū muttered, irritation flashing across his face as he reached for his Seele Schneider.
**
# Urahara Shop #
Fujimaru sat quietly in one of the modest rooms of Urahara's shop, his gaze wandering over the walls, taking in the simplicity of his surroundings. It was a cozy space, worn but comforting. The walls were unadorned, and a soft, dim light filtered through a paper screen door, casting a warm glow over the sparse furnishings.
Shiyo had excused herself almost immediately upon arrival, her exhaustion evident as she gave a polite bow before following Jinta's guidance to the small sleeping area he had prepared for her. Fujimaru hadn't missed the way she practically sank with relief at the mention of a bed, her steps sluggish as she disappeared from sight. Now, the room held only the quiet hum of evening, broken by the faint creaks of the floorboards and distant murmurs from the shop.
As he sat there, alone and reflective, Fujimaru was startled by the soft sound of footsteps approaching. Urahara Kisuke entered the room with his usual unhurried, almost lazy stride, his presence both relaxed and sharp, a paradox that Fujimaru recognized all too well. Urahara took his seat across from him, his gaze calm yet attentive, as though already piecing together a puzzle he had barely begun to see.
"I must admit, Kudo-san, I'm rather surprised to see you again. Especially after… all these years." Urahara spoke in that playful tone of his.
Fujimaru chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, a hint of nostalgia in his expression. "I could say the same about you, Captain Urahara. But for me, well… the last time I saw you was just this morning..."
Urahara's face softened in amusement as he waved his fan dismissively. "Oh, please. No need for the formalities. I haven't been a captain in quite some time." His voice dropped to a gentler, more inquisitive tone as he regarded Fujimaru closely. "Now, care to fill me in on what happened? Start from the beginning, if you would. It'll help me get a clearer picture."
Fujimaru's casual demeanor shifted as his expression grew more serious, his posture straightening. "Right… I suppose that would make sense." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "From the start, then."
There was a brief silence as he collected his thoughts, and Urahara sat patiently.
"An army of Hollows, led by an Arrancar named Arturo Plateado, was wreaking havoc on the southern Rukongai," Fujimaru began, his tone somber. "The damage was severe—several shinigami sent to stop them were killed, unable to match his strength."
Urahara's hand stilled on his fan as he registered the name, his expression hardening for a moment. Arturo Plateado was no ordinary foe; he was one of the oldest Arrancar, and dangerously powerful at that. Arturo possessed a ruthless skill: he absorbed the reiatsu of those he killed, growing stronger with each victim, a monster who had long haunted the dark corners of Soul Society's history. Even the esteemed Captain-Commander Yamamoto treated Arturo as a threat to be taken with utmost caution.
"I remember that incident well," Urahara murmured, a note of unease creeping into his normally relaxed tone. "If I'm not mistaken, Kaien-san was gravely injured in that battle against Arturo, wasn't he?"
Fujimaru nodded, his brow furrowing. "Yes… after that, Captain Shihōin explained the plan to use a powerful artifact called the Shishuikyō against Arturo."
Hearing the artifact's name, Urahara's gaze fell slightly, his eyes momentarily shadowed by the brim of his hat. The Shishuikyō was a rare and dangerous weapon, one that held power capable of sealing even the most formidable of souls, but its cost was a high one.
"Afterwards, Commander Yamamoto ordered the captains to mobilize their squads across the four gates, the Seireimon, to prepare for Arturo's invasion." Fujimaru's voice held a slight tremor. "My sister, Matsuri, and I were stationed with Squads 1, 2, 8, and 10. Commander Yamamoto was there, along with Captain Shihōin and Captain Kyōraku. It didn't take long for Arturo to appear… and he brought an even larger army with him." A faint, wistful smile touched his face as he continued. "I was so nervous, facing that overwhelming force… but then, Seigen-sama appeared out of nowhere among the Hollows, cutting them down as if they were nothing and challenged Arturo directly." Fujimaru's smile widened, a brief flash of pride and admiration lighting his eyes.
Urahara's eyes softened at the mention of that name. Seigen Suzunami was one of the finest warriors he'd known, a man who had stood by him when they were both newly promoted captains. Seigen had commanded Squad 10 with a fierce loyalty and unyielding strength that inspired those under his charge.
"If memory serves me," Urahara said, a faint smile playing at his lips as he looked up thoughtfully, "I arrived on the battlefield a few minutes after the fighting started, didn't I?"
Fujimaru nodded, leaning forward as the memory resurfaced. "Yes, you did. You showed up with Konoka-sama."
Urahara's smile faded, replaced by a somber, almost haunted expression as the weight of Fujimaru's words sank in. Memories of Konoka Suzunami stirred within him, bringing forth a mixture of sorrow and regret. She had been a rare soul, one whose spiritual power and mastery of Kidō were unmatched even by many shinigami captains, yet she had chosen a quieter path. Her role had always been one of support, a calm presence radiating stability amidst the chaos of battle and war. Yet the consequences of her involvement in that battle with Arturo were scars that went deeper than any physical wound.
"Konoka-sama was wielding the Shishuikyō," Fujimaru continued, his voice barely a whisper as he relived the moment. "The artifact was gradually draining Arturo's power, wearing him down… but then, without warning, something went wrong. Konoka-sama suddenly grew weak, collapsing as if the very life were being drawn from her."
Fujimaru clenched his hands, the frustration and helplessness clear in his posture. "After that… Arturo saw his opportunity. He turned his attack on the Shishuikyō itself, and the artifact started radiating this strange black energy, spiraling out near him and Konoka-sama. She lay there, barely breathing…" Fujimaru's voice cracked slightly, but he forced himself to continue. "Seigen-sama, my sister Matsuri, and I—we all rushed to protect her. But just as we reached her, I… I blacked out."
He looked away, his fists tightening with the lingering sense of failure. "When I came to, I was no longer in the Soul Society. I was… here, in the human world.
Urahara shifted subtly, unfurling his fan and using it to cover a flicker of sadness in his own gaze. He waved the fan gently before him, a thoughtful expression settling on his face. "That's quite a story," he said with a strange gravity, his tone respectful. "And… I wish I could tell you exactly what happened, but a lot of history's details were blurred in the wake of that battle."
The faintest smile appeared on Fujimaru's face, hope kindling in his eyes. "Then, perhaps you know what happened to Seigen-sama, my sister, and Konoka-sama afterward?" He leaned forward, his posture tense and almost pleading.
Urahara met his gaze directly, his usual levity absent. "Seigen and your sister disappeared alongside Arturo, much as you did, in fact. None of you were ever seen again after that fight." His tone was soft, almost reluctant.
"So… they're okay. Maybe they're still out there." Fujimaru blinked, a touch of relief passing over his expression "And Konoka-sama?"
For a moment, Urahara hesitated, his eyes shadowed as he considered his answer. "You all fought well on that battle."
"So you mean she's all right?" Fujimaru smiled.
Urahara folded his fan, lowering it slowly until it rested on the floor beside him, a somber gesture that felt heavy in the small, quiet room. He took a measured breath, and then, with visible regret, spoke.
"No. I'm afraid… Konoka-san now rests in the Suzunami family burial plot." His words were steady, but there was a deep sorrow in them, as if saying this out loud unearthed his own buried grief.
The color drained from Fujimaru's face. His mouth opened, but no words came out at first, the shock hitting him like a sudden blow. "W-what? But… you said we fought well… that we did well…" His voice cracked, breaking into a hoarse whisper as he struggled to understand.
Urahara's gaze remained steady, sympathetic but unyielding. "Kudo-san," he murmured, his tone laced with compassion, "for you, it feels as though that battle happened just this morning. But over a hundred years have passed since that day." He lowered his gaze, his voice soft. "In a way, I too bear responsibility. I didn't fully understand how dangerous it would be for her. But her sacrifice helped us win that battle, and it saved the Soul Society. Konoka-san's bravery and her strength carried us through, even if it cost her… everything." His fan lay forgotten, his words sincere but heavy with regret. "I know that doesn't make it easier."
Fujimaru's face fell as Urahara's words pierced through him. His heart ached with the weight of it, and he struggled to hold back his emotions. He forced a small, strained smile, though it held no joy. "So… it's all true."
Urahara inclined his head. "I truly am sorry."
"No…" Fujimaru murmured, finding strength in the silence that followed. "Thank you for telling me the truth. I'm grateful to know what really happened." He managed a nod, his sorrow heavy but laced with a faint glimmer of peace. "I'm glad we met again, Urahara-san."
Urahara's eyes softened as he met Fujimaru's gaze. "It's been good to see you too, Kudo-san. And that's enough for today. You should rest... you must be exhausted."
"Yeah… I am." Fujimaru rose slowly, wearied by both body and spirit, and with a final, somber nod, he left the room, the echoes of Urahara's words following him like a shadow.
After Fujimaru quietly left the room, Tessai emerged from the dim hallway and approached Urahara, his expression calm yet marked with a hint of gravity that Urahara couldn't miss.
"Boss," Tessai said, his voice low but unwavering, "I've finished analyzing the memories stored within the Gikongan." He held up a small device, its surface glinting under the soft glow of the shop's lanterns. "I think you'll want to see this."
Urahara's eyes flickered with curiosity and a touch of apprehension. He folded his fan with a soft snap, slipping it into his sleeve as he stood. "Very well, Tessai," he murmured. "Let's see what Kon observed during the appearance of the Blanks."
The two made their way through the shadowed corridors of the shop, footsteps soft against the wooden floors.
**
# Kurosaki Clinic #
After making up a quick excuse for his father and sisters, Ichigo had managed to convince them to let Senna spend the night. The relief of avoiding a lengthy explanation was quickly replaced by his irritation, which flared up again the moment he opened the door to his bedroom.
As he ushered Senna inside, he grumbled, "I'm kicking you out as soon as they get your room ready."
Senna merely rolled her eyes, her attention already absorbed by the surroundings. She took a sweeping glance at the room with mild disappointment, her nose wrinkling as she muttered, "Boy rooms are so boring."
"Whatever…" Ichigo mumbled, slumping into the chair by his computer, swiveling it away from her to mask his exasperation. He could feel her presence behind him as she wandered around, her steps soft but constant, inspecting every little thing with an almost childlike curiosity. He glanced back, catching her absentmindedly poking through his books.
Turning away, she flopped down onto his bed, making herself comfortable as she stretched out. "At least your family seems pretty fun," she said with a smile, bouncing lightly on the mattress as if testing its springiness.
"You think?" he muttered, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah!" Senna replied enthusiastically, propping herself up on her elbows. "Like, my dad…" She trailed off, her smile faltering slightly as she tried to recall something specific. Her finger rose to her lips in thought, her gaze unfocused as fragments of memories surfaced... memories that didn't fit together. She suddenly pictured herself arguing with a man she instinctively recognized as her father, but he looked entirely different from the other 'dads' her mind conjured up.
Her cheerful demeanor wavered, replaced by a flicker of confusion and fear. She stared at the wall, lost in the dissonance of her own thoughts.
Ichigo noticed the change and frowned, breaking the silence. "Hey, what's with you?"
Senna snapped back to the present, her unsettling reverie interrupted by his question. "Oh, nothing!" she quickly replied, forcing a wide, carefree smile. She stretched her arms above her head, laughing lightly to brush off her lapse.
Ichigo wasn't entirely convinced, but he let it go for now. She was hiding something, he could tell, but it felt like something that even she didn't fully understand.
With a sigh, he changed the subject. "So… why did those guys attack you?" he asked, his tone serious. "Did they say anything to you?"
Senna paused, tapping her finger against her temple as she tried to recall. It was an oddly familiar gesture, one that Ichigo realized he'd seen her do whenever she was deep in thought. "I think they said someone named Gan...whatever..." She shrugged, shaking her head. "Whoever he is, he apparently wants to 'take me with him,' or something like that."
"And that's all?" he pressed, his brows knitting together. He leaned forward, looking at her with an intensity that made it clear he wasn't taking her answer lightly.
"That's all," she replied, giving him a playful smirk as she lay back down, crossing her arms behind her head. "I might've heard more if someone hadn't jumped in to 'save' me so quickly."
The tension between Senna and Ichigo had finally boiled over, leading to a heated, if somewhat petty, argument in his room. Their raised voices carried through the Kurosaki household, much to the curiosity of Isshin and Yuzu, who were crouched outside Ichigo's door. Both had their ears pressed against the wood, exchanging silent glances as they tried to decipher the muffled words.
Outside, Yuzu covered her mouth. "Do you think they're—" she whispered, her cheeks flushed.
"Shh!" Isshin whispered dramatically, waving a hand for silence while his own grin widened. "This is the beauty of youthful tension! Ah, young love—"
Before he could finish, the door suddenly swung open, and Ichigo's annoyed face appeared. "What are you two doing?" he asked flatly, glaring down at his father and sister.
Isshin threw himself to the floor, pretending to weep. "My son, how could you hide such a blossoming romance from your dear father?!"
"Get lost, old man!" Ichigo growled.
Eventually, Senna's laughter subsided, and her energy waned. She stretched out on Ichigo's bed, her eyes fluttering shut as sleep quickly overtook her.
Ichigo sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Tch, whatever," he muttered, though he stood up and carefully scooped her into his arms. She didn't stir, her breathing soft and steady.
Carrying her down the hall to Yuzu and Karin's room, Ichigo carefully laid her down on the makeshift bed they had prepared. Yuzu had tucked an extra blanket neatly around the mattress, and a small lamp bathed the room in a soft, warm glow. He pulled the blanket up over Senna and, shaking his head, Ichigo left quietly, returning to his own room. He shut the door, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and flopped onto his bed. Leaning back against the wall next to the window, he glanced at his phone sitting on the nightstand. The screen lit up suddenly, a name flashing across it.
Ichigo grabbed the phone and answered. "What is it?"
[Kurosaki-san?] Urahara's voice came through, light yet tinged with urgency. [Have you learned anything about the Shinenju?]
Ichigo leaned his head back against the wall, his tone weary. "No. But I ran into the guys Kon saw."
[Are you hurt?] Urahara's voice was sharper now.
"I'm fine. They weren't that strong, and they were already retreating when I showed up," Ichigo explained. "Though Yato and the others showing up probably scared them off faster."
[I see...] Urahara replied, the sound of paper rustling faintly audible on the other end. [We've uncovered a few things as well. Our projection analysis of Kon's memories revealed the identities of those individuals among the Blanks. They appear to belong to a clan exiled from the Soul Society following a territorial dispute. That might explain their hostility, though their true objective remains unclear.]
Ichigo was silent for a moment, a thought nagging at the back of his mind. Finally, he broke the silence. "Urahara-san, can I ask you something?"
[Of course.] Urahara replied.
"Is it normal for a Shinigami to retain memories from when they were alive?"
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Urahara answered, his tone cautious. [It's… exceedingly rare, actually. Why do you ask?]
"No reason," Ichigo said quickly, brushing off the question. "Just wondering."
**
# Soul Society - Central 46, Daireishokairō #
In the vast, dimly lit halls of the Daireishokairō, Captain Ukitake and Rukia poured over endless rows of documents and scrolls, hoping to uncover even a fragment of information about Senna. The silence of the archives felt thick and heavy, broken only by the soft rustle of pages as Rukia and Ukitake continued their search. Rukia's brow furrowed as she glanced over the documents... there was absolutely nothing. Not a single entry, record, or mention of Senna's existence.
As the faint light flickered over Rukia's face, she shifted uncomfortably. "There's not a single reference… it's like she's never existed at all."
As they returned to their research with renewed determination, similar investigations were unfolding across the Seireitei. Both Soi Fon and Hitsugaya had delved into other archives, searching through Onmitsukidō and Kidō Corps records, hoping to find some trace of Senna's origin. The Shinigami Academy's records offered nothing, and each passing moment only deepened the enigma.
Ukitake, perceptive as always, took notice of Rukia's growing frustration. He turned his attention to the Chief Librarian, Nayura Amakado, who had assisted them in accessing even the most restricted records. But still, the archives held nothing about Senna herself.
The captain placed a hand on the stack of scrolls, pausing thoughtfully. "There is one strange detail. I found a mention of Mirokumaru, her zanpakutō. But…" His voice grew heavy with an almost sorrowful intrigue. "According to these records, Mirokumaru originally belonged to another Shinigami... one who disappeared into the Dangai long ago and was never seen again... so... It's as I suspected…" he murmured, the weight of the mystery clear in his tone.
"Captain Ukitake… does this mean that…" Rukia hesitated, an edge of doubt and reluctance in her voice.
"Yes," he replied gravely, nodding. "I believe I must report this directly to Genryūsai-sensei. Thank you for your assistance with this investigation, Kuchiki." His tone was formal, as if to distance himself from the disquieting conclusion they had come to.
Rukia bowed respectfully, but her expression betrayed her turmoil. "Yes, Captain…" she replied softly, though her thoughts were racing. Her unease only grew as she walked away from the archives. All evidence pointed toward a single conclusion: Senna was, in truth, the Shinenju. This revelation alone was troubling, but the deeper fear gnawing at her was the knowledge that Yato had already known this.
———————————————————
"Rukia…" his voice came out softer this time, though still carrying that familiar air of nonchalance. She paused mid-step, glancing over her shoulder as Yato ran a hand through his hair, his expression slightly more serious now. "Just so you know…" He paused, exhaling as if choosing his words carefully. "I might… do something stupid."
Rukia stopped, her back still turned to him as his words sank in. At first, the playful tone in his voice made her frown but there was something deeper in what he said, a veiled warning perhaps, hidden beneath his usual humor.
She didn't turn back to face him, though her eyes softened slightly. "Try not to."
———————————————————
The echo of that last conversation with Yato lingered in Rukia's mind, his words replaying over and over as she tried to focus on the present task. Yet, despite her determination, her thoughts kept returning to him. She stood there in the quiet corridors of the Soul Society, her gaze distant, a slight furrow in her brow as she grappled with the weight of his implied warning. Yato's cryptic message had been more than just words; it was a promise, an acknowledgment that he was ready to stand against even the Gotei 13 if it meant protecting Senna.
A growing unease settled in her chest, an uncomfortable tension between duty and loyalty. She understood the seriousness of his stance. Yato was someone who, like Ichigo, could challenge the established order without a second thought if it meant defending those he cared about. His decision tore at her, forcing her to confront an internal conflict that felt almost traitorous. How could she remain loyal to the Gotei 13, knowing they might make a call that could turn her against him?
She took a deep breath, letting her mind drift to everything they'd been through together. She had always trusted his judgment, even when he masked his intentions behind his usual carefree manner. But this time, things felt different. This time, Yato's loyalty to Senna had brought him to the edge, and she knew he wouldn't back down, no matter the cost.
Looking out at the serene landscape of the Seireitei from the balcony of the barracks, her gaze unfocused, Rukia felt the pull of the conflicting paths before her. What would she do if it came down to it? Could she truly face Yato as an enemy? The thought was as foreign as it was unbearable, and a quiet sense of fear slipped into her mind. In her heart, she felt torn, pulled between her duty as a Shinigami and her bond with someone who had always been there in her hardest moments.
Her mind churned as she replayed everything that had happened since her time in the human world, every question and doubt, every moment that had made her loyalty to the Gotei 13 feel somehow... conditional. The rules of the Soul Society had been a constant in her life, unyielding and absolute. Yet, after seeing the world beyond, those absolutes had begun to lose their solidity.
She thought of Yato, the lengths he had gone to for her, the fierce determination that had driven him to defy the laws of the Soul Society without hesitation. He had crossed boundaries, broken rules, risked everything, not out of any obligation, but because of something much deeper.
Their bond was undeniable, an understanding between them that had grown beyond mere camaraderie. The connection between their souls, something she once found strange, now felt as natural as breathing.
Her gaze hardened, and the faintest hint of a determined smile tugged at her lips as a newfound clarity swept away her fears. If the Gotei 13's orders were to threaten those she held dear, she knew where she would stand. There was no time to wait for an order she might have to defy.
Without a moment's hesitation, she turned on her heel, leaving the balcony behind as she moved with quiet purpose through the shadowed corridors of the Seireitei. The stillness of the night closed around her, broken only by the soft echo of her footsteps. Her pulse quickened as she darted past the barracks, ignoring the glances of the few shinigami patrolling the grounds.
The Senkaimon loomed ahead, its faint glow casting an ethereal light across the path, standing as the gateway between worlds. Again, she would defy the rules, but there was no hesitation in her step. She knew the risks, the consequences she would face later. But right now, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was reaching Yato.
With one final look over her shoulder, she stepped forward, her resolve unwavering, and vanished into the gate, ready to stand by his side, no matter the cost.