Rukia, Ichigo, and Senna continued following the small boy, Tomoya, as he ran ahead of the group with an energy that belied his ethereal nature. His small figure darted through the streets, weaving between empty alleys and quiet corners until he suddenly stopped and turned back to face Senna.
"Over here, lady!" he called out, his voice bright and eager.
"Oh? Did you find something?" Senna replied, her tone equally cheerful. Without hesitation, she dashed after the boy.
Ichigo and Rukia exchanged a brief glance before following them into an enclosed area. As they entered, the scene that greeted them was unexpected... A traditional festival pavilion stretched before them, vibrant and alive, as though pulled from another time.
"What the…?" Rukia muttered, her violet eyes narrowing as she took in the peculiar sight.
The group was greeted by a corridor lined with small red paper windmills spinning rapidly, though there wasn't the faintest breeze. The spinning was hypnotic, a strange contrast to the stillness of the air.
Ichigo scanned the area, his sharp gaze catching the movement of numerous figures. People dressed in a mix of modern casual clothing and traditional kimonos strolled leisurely through the pavilion. Stalls lined the edges, offering a variety of toys, masks and foods, their colorful displays illuminated by warm lantern light. The air was thick with the tantalizing aroma of grilled skewers and sweet mochi.
Ahead of them, they spotted Senna crouched beside Tomoya, her fingers gently ruffling his hair. The boy's head was bowed, his tiny shoulders sagging with disappointment.
"My dad's not here…" Tomoya mumbled, his voice cracking slightly.
"Hey, don't look so down," Senna said warmly, crouching to meet his eye level. "We'll find him." She smiled and extended her hand, which the boy hesitated before taking. As they began walking together, she added, almost wistfully, "I'm glad this place is still here. I used to come here all the time when I was little."
Rukia, who had been quietly observing, felt a pang of understanding. She knew this memory likely wasn't truly Senna's, but rather a fragment of the jumbled collection of lives and experiences that made up her existence.
"Senna, you…" Ichigo started, his tone laced with hesitation. He wanted to ask her more, to push for answers, but before he could finish, a voice rang out across the festival grounds.
"Tomoya!"
The group turned sharply toward the source of the cry. A man was sprinting toward them, his face alight with desperation and hope.
"Tomoya!" he called again.
"Dad!" Tomoya cried, his small hand slipping from Senna's grasp as he bolted toward the man.
Ichigo's eyes noticed something immediately. The man also bore a chain protruding from his chest, marking him as a soul, just like Tomoya.
The boy and his father collided in a tearful embrace, the raw emotion of their reunion drawing the attention of passersby. Rukia and Ichigo stood silently, allowing the moment to unfold.
Senna's lips curved into a soft smile as she watched the scene. Yet, there was a distant sadness in her eyes, as though part of her longed for something similar, something she couldn't quite reach.
Moments later, Yato appeared at the entrance of the pavilion, his phone slipping into his pocket. He had stayed behind to make a call but now approached the group, his expression curious as he took in the vivid sights of the festival.
Ichigo tilted his head toward the reunion. "Tomoya found his dad."
Yato's gaze softened as he looked at the father and son locked in an embrace. "Good for them," he murmured, though his tone carried a note of unease, knowing that this peaceful moment was only temporary.
The man, still holding his son close, looked over at the group with gratitude etched across his face. "Thank you. Truly, this is all thanks to you."
"Oh, I didn't do much," Senna replied, brushing off the praise with a cheerful smile.
The man straightened up, his hand resting gently on Tomoya's shoulder. His serene smile lingered on Senna, his tone calm but tinged with an almost otherworldly wisdom. "I see... Perhaps you haven't realized it yet, then."
His words made the group pause. His gaze swept the pavilion, gesturing toward the crowd around them. "Do you see all these souls? They're the ones who guided me here."
"Them?" Senna asked, her voice tinged with curiosity as she looked around.
"Yep! They're all the same," Tomoya added with a wide grin. "Weird, huh? It's kinda like how you brought me here, lady."
The man's expression softened further as he looked down at his son. "Tomoya, It's time for us to go," he said gently.
Before the group could respond, a soft blue light enveloped the man and his son. The light shimmered, wrapping around them, and the air filled with an ethereal hum. It was the same glow that accompanied a shinigami's Konsō, though none of them had performed the ritual.
"Bye-bye!" Tomoya called out with a wave as the light intensified, his form dissolving into countless sparkling particles. The man and his son vanished into the air, leaving behind only a faint, serene warmth.
Rukia, Ichigo, and Yato stood in silence, their gazes fixed on the spot where the pair had disappeared. Though they were aware that some souls could find their way to the Soul Society without a Konsō, it was the first time they had witnessed such a phenomenon with their own eyes.
Rukia frowned slightly, her thoughts spinning as she considered the implications. However, the contemplative moment was interrupted by a sharp sound. A rush of wind accompanied by a faint crackle, one they immediately recognized as the sign of a high-speed movement.
The group turned just in time to see Tatsuki appear, her hands tucked casually behind her head as she strolled toward them. Her posture was relaxed, her expression somewhere between boredom and mild curiosity.
"Tatsuki?" Ichigo blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Yato called me," she said simply, scanning the pavilion. Her sharp eyes took in the peaceful surroundings, noting the distinct lack of any signs of battle. "Did I miss the party?"
"Nope," Yato replied, smirking. "You're actually early."
Tatsuki raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Must be my lucky day," she said, shrugging off her earlier thoughts. Her sharp gaze, however, lingered on Senna for a moment, sensing something was off. Senna, who had been looking increasingly distant, seemed to be in the midst of some inner turmoil.
Ichigo's attention was drawn elsewhere as he spotted a man walking with an unsettling, unsteady gait. He furrowed his brow, sensing something wasn't quite right. Leaving the group, he approached the stranger, concern growing. "Hey, you alright?" he asked, trying to get the man's attention.
When he turned the man around, Ichigo froze for a second, his gut twisting with recognition. The man's eyes were hollow, lifeless, devoid of any real awareness. The eerie, lost look reminded Ichigo of the Blanks.
Before he could investigate further, a slight sound caught his attention, and he turned to see Senna visibly shuddering, her hand instinctively reaching up to clutch her head, as if trying to suppress something.
Yato, noticing her discomfort, casually approached Senna, his usually unreadable expression softened with concern. "Are you alright?"
Senna's voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "Why…?" Her eyes flickered with a mixture of fear and confusion. "Why do the people around me…" She trailed off, holding her head in her hands as fragmented memories began to surface. "Yato... I..." Her voice faltered, and her eyes filled with tears. "The truth is... The truth is... I—"
Yato stepped closer, offering her a comforting, reassuring presence, but Senna's hesitation left the air thick with unsaid words.
Rukia, standing slightly behind them, couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Senna, but before she could say anything, the atmosphere shifted in an instant. A bright, blinding flash of light erupted nearby, followed by the unmistakable sound of a Senkaimon opening.
The group tensed, instantly on high alert. Yato's sharp eyes flicked over to the source of the light, and the others instinctively moved closer to one another. Ichigo, still partially distracted by the strange man, quickly regrouped with the others.
The bright flash from the Senkaimon slowly faded, and as the light dimmed, four figures emerged. The captains Jūshirō Ukitake, Tōshirō Hitsugaya, Soi Fon, and Sajin Komamura stepped out, followed by the lieutenants Rangiku Matsumoto, Tetsuzaemon Iba, and Renji Abarai. A group of Onmitsukidō members flanked them, their presence only adding to the mounting tension.
Yato's expression remained unchanged, though internally, a small sense of relief flickered. With Rukia having fled to assist him, he had half-expected Byakuya or additional lieutenants to show up. But to his surprise, it was Komamura and Iba who were among the group. While their presence made him feel slightly less on edge, it was still far from enough to ease his concerns. After all, the fact that four captains had been dispatched to the Human World because of Senna meant that negotiations were no longer on the table.
Ichigo squinted at the group, his gaze shifting between them. "Ukitake-san? What's going on?" he asked, confusion lining his voice as he tried to read the situation.
Rukia, who had remained close to Yato, instinctively shifted a little closer to him. Yato, in turn, kept a close eye on Senna, his protective stance obvious despite his otherwise indifferent appearance.
The silence that followed felt heavy, like a pressure in the air that no one could escape. Renji stepped forward with a firm expression, his gaze steely and unwavering. "Top-priority orders from Central 46," he said, pointing directly at Senna. "Hand her over, Ichigo."
Yato narrowed his eyes, a small chuckle escaping his lips, though there was no humor behind it. "Central 46? Weren't those people all killed by that guy Aizen?" He couldn't hide the bitterness in his words. He knew that after the fall of Central 46, the decisions had been taken over by none other than Commander Yamamoto himself. He crossed his arms, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You guys sure do change your staff as often as you change clothes, huh?" His words were pointed, though not without a hint of bitter humor. It was the only way he knew how to cope with the mounting frustration he felt.
Renji's eyes narrowed at Yato's remark, but he held his ground. The tension in the air thickened, and everyone knew this was far from over. Senna, standing there between them, felt a strange shiver run down her spine.
"What's going on here?" Ichigo demanded, his tone sharp and uneasy as he stepped forward, his eyes darting between the captains and his allies.
Tatsuki slid her hands into her pockets, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Though she didn't speak, her stance screamed readiness, as if anticipating a fight at any moment.
Sensing the rising tension, Hitsugaya stepped forward, his expression calm but firm. "Try to stay calm, Kurosaki, Yasakani." he began, his gaze steady as it moved between the two substitute shinigami. "After an exhaustive search through all the files of the Gotei 13, the Onmitsukidō, the Kidō Corps, and even the Shinigami Academy, we found no record of anyone named Senna."
Ichigo's eyes widened in surprise, Tatsuki arched an eyebrow, and Senna visibly recoiled as if struck by the revelation. Her hands trembled slightly, clutching at the hem of her sleeves. Despite the bombshell, Yato and Rukia remained eerily composed, their expressions unreadable, though their eyes betrayed a cautious calculation.
"And that's not all," Hitsugaya continued, his voice firm but tinged with unease. "The zanpakutō, Mirokumaru, the blade that she wields, was lost over a century ago in the Dangai when its wielder was consumed by the Kōryū." His words hung heavy in the air as he paused briefly, letting the implication sink in. "In other words, that zanpakutō and its wielder no longer exist."
Senna's breath hitched, her voice shaky as she stammered, "W-what are you saying? I'm… I'm a shinigami!"
Renji, ever blunt, crossed his arms and stepped forward. "Then tell us, when did you come to the World of the Living?"
"I… woke up by the riverbank three days ago…" Senna's voice wavered as she tried to force a small, nervous smile. "But I remember my name clearly. I… used to play by that river as a kid." Her voice faltered, uncertainty creeping in like an unwelcome guest. "Why…?" Her hands went to her head as if trying to hold her thoughts together. "I was alone…"
"See?" Renji cut in, his tone flat. "Your mind is full of all kinds of memories."
"It's difficult to believe," Ukitake said gently, though his words carried a weight that made them no easier to bear, "but the Shinenju we've been searching for all this time… is you." His calm, empathetic gaze rested on Senna, whose body now trembled under the weight of his words.
"Me?" Senna whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes darted to the ground, her hands clutching her head as if the pressure of the truth was physically unbearable.
"Hold up." Yato raised his hand, his voice steady as he took a deep breath. He had to stay composed. "From what I've heard, this whole thing with the Valley of Screams and the Shinenju it's a natural phenomenon, isn't it? Something that's happened more than once before." His tone was measured, his words deliberate as he tried to steer the conversation. "Even if Senna is this Shinenju, everything happening now is because of those guys chasing her, right? Shouldn't we be focusing on them instead of pointing fingers at her?"
The group fell silent for a beat, Yato's words hanging in the air like an unspoken challenge. His statement earned glances from Ichigo, Rukia, and Tatsuki, each for their own reasons.
Tatsuki's sharp eyes caught the subtle tremor in Yato's right hand. It wasn't fear, she knew that tremor all too well. It was frustration, the kind of tightly wound energy she felt herself when she wanted nothing more than to punch someone's lights out.
Ichigo, however, was more puzzled than anything. How did Yato even know about this information of the Shinenju? Urahara had only explained the situation to Hitsugaya, Matsumoto and himself. There had been no time for Hitsugaya or Urahara to pass that information along to Yato. And Ichigo was certain Yato hadn't gone out of his way to ask about it.
Rukia, meanwhile, studied Yato with quiet concern. After spending enough time around him, she'd grown attuned to his moods, able to read the subtle shifts in his behavior. Yato, she realized, was every bit as impatient as Ichigo, if not more. He was trying to remain calm, but Rukia could see how close he was to snapping.
Before anyone could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps reached their ears. All heads turned toward the entrance to the pavilion, where Chad and Inoue appeared, running toward their friends.
"You called them too?" Tatsuki asked, casting a sidelong glance at Yato.
"I called Ishida too, but he didn't answer..." Yato replied, keeping his tone casual.
"Why'd you call Ishida? You know he's still without his powers," Ichigo whispered, shooting Yato a puzzled look.
"To pretend I care..." Yato deadpanned, his expression perfectly serious.
Rukia and Tatsuki both stiffened, their fists clenching instinctively at Yato's nonchalant response. For a moment, it looked like they might hit him then and there, but they restrained themselves with visible effort.
Chad and Inoue arrived just as the tension reached its peak, their expressions shifting to concern as they took in the heavy atmosphere. "What's going on?" Inoue asked, her voice tinged with worry.
"I'm not sure," Tatsuki murmured under her breath, her stance subtly shifting to one of readiness. "But we'd better be prepared for anything."
After a brief silence, broken only by the faint rustling of wind, Hitsugaya's voice cut through the air again. "Yasakani," he began, his tone as cold and unyielding as ice. "It's been twenty-four hours since the Valley of Screams appeared. Soul Society has concluded that Ganryū's ultimate goal is to destroy both worlds. And the Shinenju is the key to his plan." He paused, his gaze locking onto Senna with an unsettling intensity. "Shinenju Senna, you are hereby ordered to be detained by Soul Society. Indefinitely."
As soon as those words left Hitsugaya's mouth, the tension in the air spiked to a breaking point. Soi Fon, Renji, Matsumoto, Iba, and every member of the Onmitsukidō present placed their hands on the hilts of their zanpakutō, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
In the eye of the brewing storm stood Senna, trembling like a fragile leaf in a gale. "N-no way...!" Her arms wrapped around herself in a desperate attempt to hold steady, but her wide, tear-filled eyes betrayed the torrent of emotions coursing through her. "What are you talking about!?" Fear, confusion, and helplessness painted her face, as if the weight of their accusations and the looming confrontation was too much to bear. "I'm... I'm... I'm—"
"Please, Captain Ukitake," Rukia began, stepping forward, her voice steady but tinged with urgency. "Give us time to resolve this. I'm sure there's a way we can figure this out without—"
"Rukia Kuchiki." Soi Fon's sharp voice cut through her plea like a blade. "You were involved in the investigation. We assumed you came to the World of the Living to explain the situation to these fools, which is why we didn't send someone after you directly." Her gaze was icy, unyielding. "Stand down. Now."
"Hold it!" Ichigo moved in front of Senna protectively, his hand resting on her shoulder as he gently nudged her behind him. His amber eyes burned with defiance. "I don't like this. Whatever she is doesn't change the fact that she's here, right now, living, breathing, feeling. She's felt anger, happiness, pain... And you're just going to ignore all that and lock her away? Then you're no better than the ones after her!" His voice grew louder, carrying his resolve. "I'm not handing Senna over to you."
Komamura's deep voice rumbled. "Do not make this harder than it needs to be."
Yato, who had been unusually quiet, let out a slow exhale. His voice, when it came, was low and unnervingly composed. "So, let me get this straight... after everything we did to help with Aizen, we don't even get a little trust? Not even a vote of confidence?" His eyes narrowed slightly, his tone taking on a casual, almost mocking edge. "I mean, we're only dealing with five or six guys chasing Senna, right? That's not exactly overwhelming odds. Shouldn't be too hard to take care of them…" He continued, the smile on his lips thin but sharp. "I mean, we took on a hell of a lot more than that when we broke into Soul Society to save Rukia... captains included…" He let the last words hang in the air, fully aware of how they would sting.
Some flinched, others narrowed their eyes, clearly irritated by his audacity. Hitsugaya's brows furrowed as he glanced at Ukitake, who remained calm but visibly saddened by the escalating situation.
"Step aside!" Renji warned, his grip tightening on his zanpakutō.
For a moment, silence reigned, thick and suffocating. Then, Yato smiled a gentle, almost disarming smile that made Rukia's stomach twist with unease. "Alright," he said simply, his voice light.
But before anyone could relax, crimson threads shimmered into existence behind the shinigami. They wove together in intricate, deadly patterns, forming a lattice of sharp, spiritual traps. In an instant, the threads snapped into action, slicing through the air with terrifying precision. Gasps and cries of surprise filled the air as the Onmitsukidō operatives dropped one by one, incapacitated before they could react.
The captains and lieutenants spun around, eyes widening at the sight of their fallen comrades.
"What the—?!" Renji turned sharply, his grip on his zanpakutō tightening as he stared at the unexpected ambush.
As they turned back toward Yato, his reiatsu surged, washing over the area like an oppressive tide. He transitioned seamlessly into his spiritual form.
His body shifted into his spiritual form, and he gripped his zanpakutō's sheath in his left hand. With a swift, deliberate motion, he drew the blade and plunged it into the ground, the earth cracking under the force.
His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were deadly serious. He looked at each of the remaining shinigami in turn, his voice a calm yet unmistakable challenge.
"So," he said with a strange gentle smile, tilting his head slightly, "who's feeling lucky?"