Chapter 14 - Part 13 Welcome to Xcution?

The silence that followed was suffocating.The battlefield had settled, the shifting terrain of Yukio's simulated cityscape finally stabilizing. The scent of blood and scorched Reiatsu still clung to the air, lingering like a ghost. Ichigo lay motionless, his body no longer trembling, no longer on the verge of collapse. His breath was slow, steady—but he had yet to wake.The raven perched beside him, its beady green-and-black eyes unblinking as it kept its silent vigil. It was no longer aggressive, no longer bristling with hostility, but its presence was absolute. It would not leave.Kyra exhaled, rolling her shoulder with a grunt. "Well, that was a goddamn mess."Yukio snorted, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. I'd call it a shitshow." His gaze flicked to the raven before settling on Ichigo. "But he did it."Arlen, standing just behind them, adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. His golden eyes lingered on Ichigo, on the lingering pulse of unnatural energy that still clung to him like an aftershock. "Yes," he murmured. "He did."A heavy thud broke the silence.A lump of torn fabric and shredded stuffing dropped onto the cracked pavement, its once-pristine pink hue now stained with soot and darkened Reiatsu burns. The grotesque remnants of what was once a plush toy.Riruka stood above it, her fingers trembling at her sides, eyes wide with disbelief.Her precious creation—destroyed.Her breath hitched. "No..."A sharp inhale.Then—"What the hell, you assholes?!"Her voice erupted across the battlefield, sharp and furious, her body practically vibrating with barely contained rage. She stomped forward, her boots scuffing against the broken ground, hands clenching into fists as she glared at the scene before her.Her eyes landed on Ichigo—his bruised, barely breathing form—and then snapped to the raven perched beside him."You—!" She jabbed a finger at the creature. "What the hell even are you?! You just—" she gestured wildly to the ruined plush at her feet "—you ripped my baby apart!"The raven didn't move.It merely blinked, tilting its head slightly, as if unimpressed.That somehow pissed her off even more.Yukio let out a sigh. "Oh, for god's sake, Riruka—""No, screw you!" she shot back, her pink hair swaying as she turned on him. "You—all of you—let this get completely out of hand!" She whirled around, her eyes darting to Kyra. "And you—I thought you were watching him!"Kyra exhaled through her nose. Slow. Measured. Tired.Then, she smirked.A lazy smirk. A careless smirk. The kind of smirk that wasn't careless at all. The kind meant to piss people off."I was," she said, voice flat. "And?"Riruka's teeth ground together. "And?! And—?!" Her hand swung toward the wreckage of her beloved plush, stuffing and torn fabric still smoldering. "Look at this! That thing wasn't even—it wasn't even that strong! There's no way it should've—""Riruka."Kyra's voice cut through the room like a wire pulled too tight."Shut up."The command wasn't loud. It wasn't cruel. It wasn't even spoken with anger.But it stopped Riruka. Dead in her tracks.Kyra hadn't even looked at her.But Riruka knew, that if she was looking at her, she would actively stop breathing just to make sure that she was silentKyra rolled her shoulders. Flexed her fingers. Let the tension settle deep into her bones before she finally spoke again—this time, quieter. Rougher."I get it."She pressed her fingers to her temple, dragging them through her bangs, nails scraping against her scalp. "You're pissed. You're looking at this, at him"—she jerked her chin toward Ichigo, still unconscious, still cradling that damn raven like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world—"and you wanna blame someone."She exhaled hard through her nose, a bitter laugh on the edge of her breath. "I wanna blame someone too."Her hand dropped. Her gaze flicked to the ruined battlefield, to the fractures running through Yukio's shifting city, to the last, fading traces of that thing that had nearly killed Ichigo."But you saw it, Riruka."She finally turned—finally looked at her—and something in her brown eyes burned hot. Tired. Frustrated."You saw it." Her voice dropped lower, firmer, heavy with something sharp and unrelenting. "That thing landed a Black Flash."She let the words settle, watching as Riruka's expression flickered, the anger fighting against understanding."For one second, it outpaced me."The weight behind those words slammed into the room like a shockwave.Riruka's lips parted, but she didn't speak.Kyra, was the strongest of them, and as well the fastest.Well that is if you don't count Baby's car going full throttle.So for her to admit she'd been outpaced, Riruka's brain clawed for excuses, for anything that could explain it away.But she couldn't.Because she saw it.That thing. That thing—moving faster than it had any right to.And for all her anger, for all her frustration, for all the blame she wanted to throw around—If Kyra hadn't taken it down when she did—They would have been screwed.Badly."...Sorry."The word felt foreign on her tongue. Small. Powerless.Kyra exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck, finally letting some of the tension drain from her shoulders."Yeah," she muttered, voice low, unreadable. "I know."Before the silence could stretch, a sharp scoff broke through it."Pffft. Y'know, I could've taken it out in one hit."Every head turned.Standing at the edge of the ruined battlefield, hands stuffed into the pockets of his school uniform, was Moe Shishigawara.His buzzed mohawk barely ruffled as he tilted his head, eyes flicking over the wreckage like it wasn't anything impressive.Kyra blinked.Then smirked."Yeah?"Moe grinned, punching his bandaged right hand into his palm with a satisfying crack. "Hell yeah. My Jackpot Knuckle would've dropped that thing instantly. Wouldn't even have to try."Kyra hummed, tapping a finger against her chin, her brown eyes gleaming with amusement."You know what?"She took a slow, exaggerated step forward, looking down at him."You totally could've."Moe's grin widened."If you weren't—"And then, with a sudden shift in weight, Kyra leaned just enough to emphasize the height difference."—too damn short to reach its head."Moe's grin snapped into a scowl."Oi! The hell's that supposed to mean?! I'm still growing, damn it!"Kyra snorted."Yeah, yeah, let me know when you hit your growth spurt, munchkin."Moe bristled, rolling his shoulders. "Whatever! I still woulda dropped it in one hit!"Riruka, despite herself, scoffed. "You trip over your own feet when you run, moron.""That was one time!"Yukio, arms still crossed, muttered, "It was three times."Moe jabbed a finger at him. "Shut the hell up, game-boy!"Yukio didn't even flinch. "Creative."Kyra chuckled, finally shaking off the last bit of frustration still lingering in her chest.The moment of levity barely had time to settle before another presence made itself known.A slow, deliberate tap, tap, tap of polished shoes against the cracked pavement.Giriko.He stepped forward with his usual composed gait, his stature pristine—except for the thin trickle of blood dripping from his nose.his sharp, scrutinizing gaze sweeping across the battlefield.Kyra frowned, her smirk fading. "The hell happened to you?"Giriko exhaled through his nose, dabbing the blood away with a white handkerchief. "The consequences," he murmured, voice calm but edged with something tight, "of that creature breaking my rules."His eyes flicked toward the space where the demon had fallen, where only ashes and lingering traces of warped energy remained."Thankfully," he continued, folding the handkerchief neatly, "in doing so, it removed the restrictions I had placed on its existence. Which means—" he gestured slightly to the vacant space where the monster had once been "—it also erased its respawn function."Riruka stiffened. "Wait, wait— it still could've respawned?!"Moe scoffed, crossing his arms. "Tch. And you were just gonna mention that now?""It was a non-issue," Giriko replied smoothly. "Had it adhered to the laws I placed upon it, it would have simply followed the constraints and been disposed of accordingly. But... it hadn't." His eyes darkened slightly, a rare flicker of irritation passing over his face.Giriko sighed through his nose, his usual patience thinning. "I did not anticipate it would destroy its own restrictions. My laws dictated its strength and limitations. But by rejecting them, it destroyed not only its limits..." He glanced back at the empty space. "...but also its ability to return... Of course by destroying those rules in the first place is the reason it became to dangerous, Giriko's gaze drifted away from the empty battlefield and settled onto Ichigo. The exhaustion, the bruises, the faint rise and fall of his chest—it was all evidence of how close he had been to death. Yet despite the battered state of his body, the energy radiating from him had changed. It was subtle, but Giriko could feel it.More than that—he could see it.His eyes lingered on the raven.The creature remained perched beside Ichigo, its black-and-green feathers pulsing faintly with something far too sentient to be dismissed as mere instinct. It wasn't just a reflection of Ichigo's Fullbring—it was his Fullbring, yet unlike any he had encountered before.Giriko adjusted his cuff, taking a slow, deliberate step closer."This," he murmured, voice measured, "is far more intriguing than the fight itself."Kyra arched a brow, crossing her arms. "What? That he actually unlocked his Fullbring, or that he managed to do it in a single day?" She let out a low whistle, shaking her head. "Hell, maybe it's the fact that he went toe-to-toe with a damn demon, got his ass kicked, and still managed to kill it—multiple times." She smirked slightly, tilting her head. "Pretty sure he just set a new record for future recruits."Her words carried an edge of amusement, but beneath it was something more thoughtful. She had been in enough of these trials to know how they worked.The entire point of this test wasn't to win. It was to push candidates to their limit—to force out whatever potential was buried inside them by making them fight something they couldn't beat. The demon was always designed to be stronger, to outmatch them at every turn.Then, once they were broken down, when it seemed like they would be crushed, its power would be scaled back—just enough that they could fight back, just enough that they could claw their way to victory without outright dying.It was a brutal method. But it worked.Because in the heat of battle, when survival was on the line, Fullbringers didn't awaken through training, through patience.They awakened through struggle. Through desperation. Through instinct overriding logic.And Ichigo had done exactly that.But not just that.He had shattered the expected pattern.He hadn't just awakened his Fullbring.He had dominated it.Most recruits barely grasped control over their abilities in the first few fights. Some could only manifest fragments of their power—pieces of what their Fullbring would become.But Ichigo's Fullbring had appeared fully-formed, alive, and powerful enough to rip apart a demon that should have taken him apart without effort.And that? That wasn't just impressive.It made him a goddamn monster.Kyra's smirk faded slightly as her eyes drifted back to Ichigo's unconscious form, his fingers still curled weakly around the raven, like even in his sleep, he refused to let go. The bird remained perched at his side, still, silent, yet undeniably watchful. Protective.Her arms crossed, a sigh slipping from her lips.How the hell were they supposed to get him into his room without pissing off the damn bird?...Eh.Not her problem.Someone else could figure it out, and if they couldn't? Well, she supposed Ichigo was getting comfortable right here in the middle of a ruined battlefield. Not like he was waking up anytime soo—BOOM!The air cracked as part of the training room detonated.Yukio barely flinched, already expecting it, though his glare turned razor-sharp as he shot Kyra a look.Kyra blinked. "...Oops?"Yukio sighed. Long. Suffering.The simulated space around them flickered, the stability of the room clearly struggling after all the ridiculous amounts of bullshit it had just been put through. The walls trembled, glitching for a fraction of a second before stabilizing again—barely.Yeah. No. Definitely not leaving Ichigo in a room that could spontaneously combust.Speaking of which—"Yukio, be a dear and make sure this doesn't—"SQUAWK!The raven's shrill cry cut through the air, sharp and immediate.Kyra barely had time to process before Yukio, who had very clearly been expecting exactly this outcome, had already handled the problem.Well one of the problemsWithout even turning to look at her, he lifted his PSP, dragging Ichigo and his new Fullbring into the digital space before she could finish her sentence.Kyra blinked.Yukio clicked his tongue, not bothering to hide the smug satisfaction in his voice. "Do it yourself, you damn leech. You're the reason this place is about to explode."Kyra's brow twitched.Yukio tucked his PSP into his hoodie pocket. "I'm handling the kid. You can babysit the battlefield you just wrecked."Kyra slowly exhaled through her nose."...Tch. Little shit."But hey. At least she didn't have to deal with the raven.BOOM!The walls trembled. The floor rattled beneath her boots. Dust trickled from the ceiling.Kyra shut her eyes.Breathed in.Breathed out."...Of course."She turned on her heel, already expecting the worst.And found —Nothing.Well aside from half the room in flames.No Giriko. No Yukio. No Riruka. No Arlen.Just her.And Moe.Who stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking way too casual for someone who just heard an explosion.Kyra's eye twitched. "Where the hell did everyone go?"Moe shrugged. "Dunno. One second they were here, the next? Poof."Kyra let her gaze sweep over the room, then dragged a hand down her face. "Unbelievable."Moe smirked. "Looks like it's just us, huh?"Kyra squinted at him.And there's no way she was letting Shishigawara help her with this, because knowing his luck, if she let him handle this, he'd somehow turn the entire room into a nuclear reactor, and then accidentally detonate it.Nope. Not happening.Kyra rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, and turned back toward the aftermath.Guess she was handling this one herself.Moe grinned, rocking back on his heels seeing her expression. "Nah, c'mon we got this. Teamwork and all that."Kyra gave him a look."Shishigawara," she said slowly, voice flat. "You once punched a vending machine and set off a blackout for three city blocks."Moe scowled. "That was one time!"She raised a brow."Okay—maybe two." He crossed his arms, mumbling under his breath. "...Or three."Kyra sighed. "Yeah, no. You're sitting this one out."Moe clicked his tongue. "Tch. Whatever. Not like I wanted to play janitor anyway."Ignoring him, Kyra turned back toward the wreckage. First step—contain the damage. Second step—make sure nothing else exploded. Third step—hunt down whoever the hell ditched her with this mess and make sure they owe her for this.Especially Yukio. That little shit.But before she could even take a step, a voice—smooth, deliberate, and so damn familiar it sent a spark of irritation straight down her spine—echoed through the ruined space."Need a hand?"Kyra didn't even react. Not a twitch. Not a glance.Because, of course, he was here.Tsukishima.He stood there like he always did—calm, composed, like the absolute disaster zone around them was just an unfortunate inconvenience rather than the aftermath of an all-out war. He wasn't rushed. He wasn't fazed. He was just there.Moe, however, stiffened. "What the hell—" His eyes darted to Kyra, then back to Tsukishima. "When did he get here?"Kyra exhaled, rolling her neck. "When do you think?"Moe blinked. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, clearly debating whether or not he even wanted to ask.Tsukishima, for his part, only smiled faintly. "You seem busy."Kyra tilted her head, gaze flicking to the wreckage, the cracked pavement, the smoldering walls. She then looked back at him, deadpan. "You think?"A quiet chuckle. "Would you like some help?"Kyra gave him a long look."...Fine."Moe gawked at her. "That's it? No threats? No 'get the hell out of my way'?" He waved a hand. "Not even a glare?"Kyra shrugged. "He's good at cleaning up messes.""Hey, so am I!" Moe shot back immediately—only to clamp his mouth shut when Kyra turned to him with the laziest, most unimpressed expression she could muster."Yeah. And I wonder why."Moe stiffened. His jaw worked, like he wanted to argue, but nothing came out. She was not letting Moe handle this. Not when his existence was a cosmic joke waiting to happen.Because Moe wasn't just unlucky—he was cursed.Not that he ever outright admitted it, and Kyra wasn't about to pry, but even an idiot could tell that something was up with him.Random accidents? Constant.Tripping over nothing? Daily occurrence.Nearly getting impaled by falling debris in a completely safe location? At least twice a week.And yet—When the guy was in a fight? Or at a poker table? Or doing anything that involved sheer, unfiltered luck?It was like the universe flipped a switch.Kyra had seen him land impossible hits in battle. Seen him clean house in a gambling match like he was cheating without even trying. It was so blatantly unnatural that it wasn't even funny.It was like something had rigged the dice of his life, making sure he was the unluckiest bastard in every aspect except for the moments that mattered.Kyra sighed, rubbing her temple before waving a dismissive hand. " Mo— ""Moe."Tsukishima's voice cut through the air like a thread pulled taut—not loud, not forceful, but absolute.Moe stopped mid-step. His body reacted before his brain caught up, spine straightening, feet halting as if commanded by something deeper than instinct. His head turned just enough, his grey eyes locking onto Tsukishima's.The older man barely looked at him. He didn't need to."Leave," Tsukishima said.Soft. Unassuming. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.And just like that, Moe was already moving.No hesitation. No complaint. No second-guessing. Just obedience, as simple and effortless as breathing.Kyra's eye twitched as she watched him walk out without so much as a grumble. "Oh, come on—" She threw up her hands, exasperated. "Why the hell do people listen to you and not me?! I'm the leader!"Tsukishima, calm as ever, flicked an absent glance her way. "Oh?" He smiled, polite. Detached. "I suppose they just don't see it that way."Kyra groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "I hate you."He gave her the same empty, pleasant smile. "That's unfortunate."Kyra let out a long sigh, tilting her head back before rubbing her temples. "Tch. Why do I even bother?"Tsukishima, to his credit, waited patiently as she muttered a few more curses under her breath, his hands folded neatly behind his back as he surveyed the wreckage around them. His gaze moved with idle calculation, not a hint of urgency or concern, just quiet assessment." Well... you really know how to make an impression," he mused, tone light, amused.Kyra snorted, dropping her hands to her hips. "Yeah, well, at least I don't leave a trail of psychological damage everywhere I go."Tsukishima's lips curled just slightly. "Debatable."BOOM!Kyra exhaled sharply, dragging her fingers through her hair before letting her arms fall to her sides. The room was a disaster—cracks running through the walls, chunks of debris scattered across the floor, and scorch marks streaking across what used to be a stable environment. The simulated city had barely held itself together during the fight, and now it looked like it had been through a goddamn war.And of course, she was the one left to deal with it.She turned, expression flat, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the one other person who hadn't conveniently disappeared.Tsukishima.Unbothered. Unrushed. The picture of quiet composure as he surveyed the destruction like he was admiring an abstract painting. His posture was relaxed, hands neatly folded behind his back, his ever-present, unreadable smile in place.Well for most people.But she knew what's behind itKyra clicked her tongue. "Tch. Stop laughing you asshole."Tsukishima's gaze flicked to her, his amusement as subtle as always. "Oh?" he mused, tilting his head slightly. "And here I thought I was being helpful."Kyra snorted. "Yeah? And how's that, exactly?"Tsukishima's smile didn't waver. He moved with an easy, deliberate pace, stepping lightly over the cracked pavement as he surveyed the damage. His expression was calm—studious, even—but Kyra wasn't fooled. She knew him too well.He was enjoying this."Well," he murmured, his voice smooth and measured, "I'm still here, aren't I?"Kyra scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, and so is the goddamn fire."Almost on cue, a column of flames crackled and twisted toward the ceiling, casting flickering shadows across the fractured walls. The training room's simulated environment had taken a serious beating—so much that even Yukio's systems were struggling to keep it stable. Buildings flickered between half-formed structures, the cityscape warping between repair and destruction, as if the whole place couldn't decide whether it wanted to collapse or reboot.But the fire?That was real.It wasn't like Yukio's coded flames, the ones that burned clean and artificial, dying when the program dictated. This was something else. Something alive.Because fire is alive.It consumed. It fed. It wanted.And if she didn't do something fast, it was going to spread.Kyra let out a sharp breath through her nose, flexing her fingers as she stepped forward. "Tch. Just great."She extended her hand, focusing on the fire—not just its heat or its movement, but what lay beneath it. The essence of it. The soul that made it burn.Fullbring wasn't just about manipulating objects—it was about understanding them. Connecting with them.And Kyra understood fire.It was wild, stubborn, relentless.It destroyed without hesitation.But it also obeyed.If you knew how to command it.Her fingers curled slightly, and the flames flickered in response. She could feel them. Feel the way they twisted through the air, feeding on what little oxygen they had, clinging to the debris like it was their last meal.Kyra clenched her fist."Die out," she commanded.The fire shuddered.A ripple passed through the air, subtle but absolute. The flames sputtered, their movement halting—hesitating. The energy in them wavered, the very soul inside them dispersing, like something had reached into the core of their existence and plucked it away.Kyra exhaled sharply, twisting her fingers as if wringing the soul out of the fire itself.And then—The flames collapsed.One by one, they curled inward, their vibrant glow dulling, their heat vanishing until nothing remained but wisps of dying embers.The room fell silent. Kyra let her hand drop, rolling her shoulders with a tired grunt. "Tch. Finally."Tsukishima sighed dramatically, stepping over the rubble with an exaggerated elegance, brushing imaginary dust off his pristine coat. "Well, that was tedious. Remind me never to let Yukio handle our training simulations again." Kyra snorted. "Oh sure, because you'd rather have Riruka in charge? What, wanna fight a room full of plushies next time?" Tsukishima's face remained stoic for half a second before his entire demeanor shifted. He crossed his arms, tilted his head, and pouted slightly. "Ugh, like, whatever, Kyra! You just don't appreciate fine craftsmanship!" Kyra blinked. Then burst out laughing. "Oh my god—stop. That was disturbingly accurate." Tsukishima smirked, dropping the act and flicking his wrist with a casual ease. "I do my research." He strode toward the nearest console, tapping a few keys before the entire simulation flickered and collapsed into itself, leaving behind the cold, empty training room. Tsukishima stepped back with a satisfied nod. "And that's my contribution. I don't do well with technology." Kyra crossed her arms. "You literally just turned it off." "Exactly." Kyra shook her head, still grinning. "You're hopeless." Tsukishima smirked, nudging her shoulder as they made their way toward the exit. "And yet, you keep me around." "Yeah, yeah, like a stray cat I can't get rid of." "Oh? Are you saying you feed me and make sure I don't wander off into traffic? That's awfully caring of you." Kyra rolled her eyes. "No, I mean like an annoying, smug little bastard who somehow always lands on his feet."Tsukishima chuckled. "I'm flattered." They walked in comfortable silence for a moment before Kyra elbowed him lightly. "So, what do you think of the new guy?" Tsukishima hummed, his eyes briefly flicking toward where Ichigo had been before the simulation shut down. "He's... interesting." Kyra snorted. "Oh wow, a whole sentence without sounding condescending." "I must be slipping." She rolled her eyes, but there was genuine amusement in them. "Come on, Tsukishima. Be serious for once." " Hilarious. " Was his reply to her words as he smirked, but there was something thoughtful in his gaze now. "That child is dangerous, Kyra. Not because of his strength, but because of his mind." Kyra raised a brow. "You think he's unstable?""Not quite. He's holding himself together—but barely. And if he snaps?" Tsukishima let the implication hang in the air between them. Kyra exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah... I kinda figured. But hey, we've dealt with worse."Tsukishima smirked. "And we're still alive."Kyra nudged him. "For now."Tsukishima chuckled, shaking his head. "And here I thought you liked my company."She grinned. "I do. That doesn't mean I won't dropkick you if you get too smug.""Then maybe I should die quickly.""Do that, and I will kill you back to life," Kyra shot back instantly, the words leaving her mouth before she even thought about them.Tsukishima blinked. His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, replaced by something almost amused, almost exasperated—almost touched.Kyra scowled. "What?"His lips curled back into a knowing smile. "Nothing. Just nice to know I have such a... dedicated afterlife plan.""Shut up," she muttered, kicking a loose piece of rubble. "You're not dying, end of discussion."Tsukishima, ever the tactician, wisely decided to shift the topic. "Speaking of people on the verge of self-destruction—what do you think about the kid?"Kyra let out a breath, glad for the change in subject, though the tension in her shoulders lingered. "Ichigo? He's a mess. Stubborn. Reckless. Half the time, he doesn't even seem to know what he wants. But...""But?"She glanced at Tsukishima, her lips pressing into a thin line before she exhaled. "But he's got something."Tsukishima nodded slightly, as if he'd already come to the same conclusion. "And that something... do you think it's going to get him killed?"Kyra didn't answer right away. She thought about Ichigo, about the way he fought, the way he talked, and his fullbring...Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. "Depends.""On?""On whether or not someone's there to stop him from running himself into the ground."Tsukishima hummed thoughtfully, studying her. "You thinking of taking that job?"She snorted. "Oh, hell no. I'm not babysitting him... If he doesn't prove himself useful we cut him off."Tsukishima chuckled, but there was something thoughtful in his gaze. "Good. Because I don't think he'd take kindly to a babysitter."Kyra smirked. "Exactly. He'd probably punch me."Tsukishima's smirk lingered for a moment before his expression shifted, just slightly. " Reminds you of someone, doesn't he?"Kyra's smirk faltered.She clicked her tongue, looking off to the side, feigning disinterest. "Don't start, Tsukishima."His gaze didn't waver. "I didn't have to. You already thought it."Kyra exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders like she was physically shaking something off. "Half-Shinigami," she muttered, the words tasting heavier than they should.Tsukishima hummed, tilting his head slightly. "So that's what's bothering you."Kyra tensed, just a fraction. "It's not bothering me.""Mm." Tsukishima made a quiet, knowing sound, watching her closely. "Just making you think about things you'd rather not."Kyra scoffed. "You enjoy being an ass, don't you?"Tsukishima smiled, slow and deliberate. "It's one of my finer qualities."Kyra let out a dry laugh, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She knew exactly what he was getting at.The air between them settled into something heavier—something unspoken. Kyra wasn't an idiot. She knew Tsukishima wasn't going to let this go.She clicked her tongue, her fingers twitching at her sides. "It's not him that's the problem," she muttered.Tsukishima tilted his head. "No?"Kyra exhaled sharply through her nose, crossing her arms. "Tch. It's me."For once, Tsukishima didn't reply immediately. He simply watched her, patient, waiting.She knew that look. He wasn't going to push. He didn't have to.Because she was already talking."...It's been years..." she started, her voice quieter now. " Decade's...I don't even think about it most days. But then he shows up. Half-Shinigami, half-Human, thrown into chaos with nothing but his own stubborn will to keep him standing."Her jaw tightened. "And suddenly, it's like I'm back there all over again."Tsukishima's expression didn't shift, but his presence remained steady beside her, grounding.Kyra closed her eyes briefly, dragging in a breath before forcing herself to speak the words."I look at him, and I don't know what I see yet."The words left her before she could filter them.Kyra exhaled, rubbing a hand over her face. "He's reckless. Self-righteous. The kind of guy who throws himself into every fire like he's got nothing to lose."Tsukishima hummed, his gaze steady. "And does he?"Kyra scoffed. "I doubt he even knows."Her arms crossed over her chest, her fingers gripping at her sleeves. "He's strong, I'll give him that. Stupidly so. But it's not just raw power—it's the way he carries himself. The way he fights. It's like he's used to losing, but he doesn't stop anyway."Tsukishima tilted his head slightly. "Sounds familiar."Kyra let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, you said that..."But then, her jaw tensed. Because no matter how much she tried to brush it off, there was something about Ichigo that stuck. Something that itched at the back of her mind, something she couldn't place."I'm not judging him. Not yet." Her voice was firm, but quieter now, like she was convincing herself just as much as Tsukishima. "But there's something about him that rubs me the wrong way."Tsukishima arched a brow and repeated himself to get the point across. "Because he reminds you of someone?"Yes.Yes, he does.But—Kyra shook her head, forcing the thought out. "No. Because he doesn't."That made Tsukishima pause.She sighed, rolling her shoulders. "I've seen guys like him before. Kids who get thrown into this life without asking for it. Most of them burn out fast. The rest—" she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "The rest become something else."Tsukishima considered that. "And you think Ichigo is one of those?""I think it's too early to tell," Kyra admitted. "He's got a fire to him, but I don't know what fuels it yet. A cause? A promise? Guilt?"Her fingers twitched at her sides."If it's guilt, he's a dead man walking."Tsukishima hummed, the corner of his mouth curling ever so slightly. "Hmm... Well, you're still alive."Kyra scoffed before letting out a short, genuine laugh. "I'm not a man, jackass—no matter how much you try to imply it."Tsukishima exhaled through his nose — his silent way to deal with frustration — as tilting his head slightly, he continues the conversation. "You're watching him closely.""That's the job."Tsukishima hummed. "And here I thought you weren't babysitting him."Kyra groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "Tsukishima... please stop being annoying."God, why did he have to start repeating himself? Did he know how annoying he was doing that? Of course he knew."Nah."Kyra blinked. Then squinted at him. "That has to be the shortest sound to ever come out of your mouth.""Ye."She scowled as she stared into his eyes brown eyes. "I hate you."Tsukishima smirked as he stared at the eyes mirroring his own. "Hate you too."...Darkness.A thick, suffocating kind of nothingness.For a long moment, Ichigo was weightless, untethered. His mind swam through the void, slipping between fragmented thoughts that barely felt like his own. Heat. Cold. Pain. Silence. He couldn't quite tell where one sensation ended and another began.Then—Breath.His lungs expanded, air rushing in as if he'd been drowning and only now broke the surface. His fingers twitched against the unfamiliar fabric beneath him. A bed?His eyes cracked open.Dim lighting. A ceiling he didn't recognize. The faint hum of something electronic.His body felt heavy. His muscles ached in that deep, bone-deep way that told him he'd pushed himself too far—again. Every inch of him was screaming, but it was distant, like his nerves were still catching up to the fact that he was alive.He blinked slowly, adjusting to the low light, his senses sharpening bit by bit.And that's when he saw it.Perched just above his headrest.Watching.A black mass of feathers and unblinking green-and-black eyes.Ichigo didn't move.Neither did the bird.It was close. Too close. Close enough that if he reached up, he could probably touch it. But something in the way it sat, the way it stared—he knew better than to make any sudden movements.His pulse remained steady, his breathing even.The raven didn't blink.Didn't twitch.Didn't do anything.Just watched.Ichigo stared back.Seconds passed, long and stretched, the weight of the raven's gaze pressing against him like a silent demand. It wasn't just watching him—it was waiting.For what?Ichigo wasn't sure.His fingers twitched against the sheets. He swallowed, his throat dry, the aftertaste of blood and exhaustion still clinging to his mouth. His body still felt wrecked, his muscles sluggish, his thoughts hazy. But through it all, the presence of the bird above him remained sharp. Tangible.It didn't move.Didn't shift its weight.Didn't break eye contact.It just sat there, head tilted slightly, like it was trying to understand him.Ichigo exhaled through his nose, slow and steady. His voice, when he finally spoke, was hoarse."...You still here?"A beat of silence.Then, the raven blinked.Just once.Ichigo's lips twitched into something almost amused."Yeah. Thought so."He lifted his arm, sluggish and heavy, reaching toward the bird. Not quickly. Not hesitantly. Just slow, deliberate movement. Testing. Waiting to see if it would react.It didn't flinch.Didn't retreat.Didn't even shift its feathers.It let him.His fingers brushed against smooth, impossibly soft feathers. The moment he made contact, something clicked in the back of his mind—like a puzzle piece sliding into place, like something that had always been there was finally making itself known.Warmth.Faint, but present.The raven let out a low, quiet sound—not quite a caw, not quite a growl. Something between the two.Ichigo huffed a breath that wasn't quite a laugh. His fingers flexed slightly, feeling the subtle texture beneath them, the warmth that radiated from something that shouldn't have warmth."Guess your stuck with me, huh?"The raven didn't answer.Didn't need to.Because Ichigo already knew the answerIt is what he desired after all." And a what pathetic desire it is. "Ichigo's body reacted before his mind could catch up.His breath hitched, and his muscles locked as he shot upright, instinct overriding exhaustion. A sharp, stinging ache tore through his limbs—his body reminding him of every hit he'd taken, every wound still barely healed.He grit his teeth against it, but his mind wasn't on the pain.It was on the voice.It was gone now, but the weight of it lingered in the back of his mind, like the echo of something that should not have been there.For a fleeting moment, his first thought was her.His Hollow.Fullbringers were born from Hollows, their power tied to that hollow essence. Could it be... was she clawing her way back?He closed his eyes, focusing, searching.Nothing.His inner world—what had once been his inner world—was empty. No flood of white sands, no distant whispers of mocking laughter.Just silence.His chest tightened, but he shoved the thought away. His skin felt clammy, the sweat sticking to him uncomfortably. He needed a shower.The bathroom light flickered as he stepped inside, the dull hum of electricity filling the quiet. He turned on the sink first, letting cold water pool against his fingers before splashing it against his face.He let out a slow breath.Then, his gaze lifted to the mirror.And his breath caught.His reflection stared back at him—his own face, his own eyes. But something was off.His hair.It was... lighter. Not white, but close. A shade paler than it should be.His skin, too.Not sickly. Not weak. Just different.His brows furrowed as he took a step closer, eyes narrowing, trying to pinpoint what exactly felt wrong.Then his reflection moved.Not a twitch. Not a blink.A sudden, violent lurch forward.Its mouth opened, and black sludge poured from its lips.Ichigo barely had time to register the shock before his own body reacted.His throat tightened.His stomach twisted.Then—A violent heave.Black tar spilled from his mouth, thick and suffocating, burning like something that had festered inside for far too long. It clung to him, coating his tongue, filling his lungs with something foul, something wrong.His hands braced against the sink as his body convulsed, every breath a struggle, every second dragging.His vision blurred—And then, just as suddenly as it started—It stopped.He gasped, his breath ragged, his hands shaking against the cold porcelain. His head lifted, his gaze dragging back to the mirror—His reflection was normal.No pale skin. No wrongness. No black sludge.Just him.His heart slammed against his ribs, his pulse hammering.A sharp caw shattered the silence.Ichigo flinched, his head snapping to the side.The raven was perched on the counter, feathers ruffled, beady eyes sharp and worried.It cawed again, softer this time, shifting its weight like it wanted to come closer but didn't know how.Ichigo exhaled through gritted teeth, gripping the edge of the sink. His body still trembled, his breath uneven.Then, something else caught his eye.A flicker of color in his reflection.His hair.The orange was almost gone.Now, it was black. Dark, with only faint streaks of orange breaking through like cracks of something that was fading.His fingers twitched as he reached up, running a hand through the strands.This wasn't normal.And this wasn't his Hollow.The voice...That voice was something else.Speaking of something else...What the hell did he barf out ?!But when he finnaly looked down, the water already removed what ever was in the sink.The voice...That voice was something else.Not his Hollow.Not Zangetsu.Something new.Something wrong.His fingers curled against the porcelain of the sink, his breath still ragged, his chest rising and falling with the weight of what just happened. His throat burned, his stomach churned, and his skin still felt like it was crawling with whatever that was.Then, another thought struck him—What the hell did I just puke out?His head snapped down, eyes darting toward the sink—But the water had already washed it away.The basin was clean, the drain empty.Like it had never been there at all.His jaw clenched, frustration gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. He knew it had happened. It wasn't just exhaustion playing tricks on him, it wasn't a dream. He felt it—felt the wretched weight of it leaving his body, felt it clawing its way out.And yet...Nothing remained.What the hell is happening to me?A sharp caw snapped him from his thoughts.The raven.Ichigo turned, still gripping the sink, his vision focusing on the dark mass of feathers perched on the counter.The bird was... agitated.It shifted restlessly, its wings twitching, its head jerking slightly as if trying to get a better look at him. Those unnatural green-and-black eyes stayed locked onto him, intense and unwavering, filled with something close to fear.Not for itself.For him.Ichigo swallowed, his throat still raw. "Hey." His voice came out rough, hoarse. He tried again, softer this time. "I'm fine."The raven let out another low, uneasy sound, talons clicking against the smooth surface of the counter as it edged closer.Ichigo sighed, running a hand through his hair—pausing for half a second when he remembered the color had changed.His fingers tangled in dark strands, black with only faint streaks of orange remaining. It still didn't feel real.The raven cawed again, sharper this time, its wings fluffing slightly as if scolding him."Alright, alright, I get it." Ichigo exhaled, shaking his head. "I freaked you out."He hesitated for a moment, then lifted a hand—slow, deliberate, just like before.The raven didn't move away.Instead, it leaned into his touch.The warmth of it surprised him.It was strange, comforting in a way he couldn't quite explain.A weight settled in his chest. Not heavy. Not suffocating. Just there."...You worried about me or something?" His voice was quiet, almost absentminded.The raven didn't answer.Didn't need to.Ichigo sighed again, rubbing a thumb against the side of its head before dropping his hand. His own body still felt wrecked, exhaustion pressing down on him like a weight, but the panic from earlier had dulled—replaced by something more... manageable.For now."Guess that makes two of us," he muttered.The bird let out a softer sound, something almost approving, before hopping back onto his shoulder.Ichigo took one last glance at the mirror.His reflection was normal.But he didn't trust it.Something had changed.And if it wasn't his Hollow, if it wasn't Zangetsu, if it wasn't the same voices that had always haunted him—Then what the hell was it?He didn't have an answer.But he had a feeling he wouldn't like it when he found out.......* Knock Knock *"...What the hell am I doing?"The voice came from the other side of the door—flat, unimpressed, laced with the barest hint of self-annoyance.Then, without waiting for a response—Click.The door swung open.Ichigo barely had time to register the movement before Kyra stepped in, arms crossed, expression caught somewhere between curiosity and irritation."I just knocked on a door in a building I run," she muttered, more to herself than him. "The hell is wrong with me?"Ichigo blinked. Stared.Then scowled. "Then why'd you knock in the first place?"Kyra exhaled through her nose, stepping fully into the room like she owned the damn place—which, technically, she did. "Instinct. Dunno. Figured you might be—" Her sharp gaze flicked over him, taking in the lingering dampness of his skin, the loose towel slung over his shoulders, the black-and-orange mess of his hair still clinging to his forehead."—Oh."Ichigo frowned. "What?"Kyra squinted, tilted her head slightly. "You look like shit."Ichigo's brow twitched. "Great observation. I wonder why."She ignored the sarcasm, her eyes dragging over him again, slower this time. Her usual smirk was absent.The bruises, the exhaustion, the way his body still looked like it was running on fumes—none of that surprised her. He'd earned that damage in the fight.But the hair—Her arms dropped, hands settling on her hips. "You didn't have that much black in your hair before."Ichigo stiffened.It wasn't a question.He glanced toward the mirror, just for a second. His reflection stared back, normal now. No ghostly pale skin, no unnatural whiteness.Just him.But Kyra wasn't wrong.Before, his hair had been mostly orange, streaked with growing strands of black.Now—Now, it was reversed.Black, with only faint patches of orange clinging to what was left of its original color.Like something had finally tipped the balance.Ichigo clicked his tongue, looking away. "Tch. Just stress."Kyra arched a brow. "Right. Stress."The raven on his shoulder shifted, feathers rustling in clear unease.She caught that, too."Your bird looks more freaked out than you do."Ichigo rolled his shoulder slightly, the raven holding its place, talons gripping onto him a little tighter. He could still feel its concern, the way it hadn't let up since it happened."Dunno what to tell you," he muttered, reaching up to scratch behind its head, more to settle it than himself. "Guess it's not used to me yet."Kyra made a quiet sound—something between amusement and skepticism.Then, she walked past him, eyes flicking to the bathroom door.Ichigo shifted, subtly blocking her line of sight.She noticed.And smirked."So." She turned back to him, arms crossed again. "You gonna tell me what you were actually doing in there, or should I guess?"Ichigo met her gaze, deadpan. "I was showering."Kyra snorted. "Uh-huh. And the dramatic pause? The weird energy shift? The bird acting like you just died for a second?"Ichigo's jaw clenched, but he forced himself to stay relaxed. "Must've been one hell of a shower."Silence.A beat.Then—Kyra grinned. "You suck at lying."Ichigo scowled. "I'm not—""You are."His fingers twitched.She was digging, and he didn't like it.He didn't owe her an explanation, didn't have to explain the unnatural thing he had just coughed out of his body like poison.And yet...Her expression wasn't just teasing.Underneath the amusement, the smugness—she was watching him.Really watching.Like she was trying to piece something together.Ichigo exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his damp hair. "I don't know," he admitted, voice lower now, gritted. "I don't know what happened."Kyra hummed, leaning slightly against the wall. "That so?"Ichigo's scowl deepened. "Yeah. That's so."Another pause.Another unreadable look from her.Then, she shrugged. "Alright."Ichigo blinked. "What?"She was already turning for the door, stretching her arms over her head. "I said alright. You don't wanna talk? Fine. Not my problem."Something about the way she said it made his eye twitch.But before he could retort—"Just don't drop dead in my base," she added, throwing a glance over her shoulder. "Too much cleanup."Ichigo clicked his tongue. "Not planning to.""Good."With that, she stepped out, shutting the door behind her with a casual flick of her wrist.The silence that followed was thick, heavier than before.Ichigo let out a breath, rubbing his temple.His body still ached. His mind still raced.And his reflection—His fingers twitched.Then—Click.The door swung open.Again.Ichigo barely turned before Kyra leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips."Oh, by the way," she drawled, tilting her head. "Since you're up and walking—"Her smirk widened."Time to officially welcome you to Xcution."Ichigo stared.Then scowled. "You could've just said that the first time."Kyra shrugged. "Yeah, but this was funnier."Ichigo clicked his tongue, but didn't argue. Instead, he rolled his shoulder—feeling the dull pull of sore muscles—and shifted toward the door.The raven on his shoulder gave a low, uneasy caw, its talons tightening ever so slightly against his skin.He reached up, fingers brushing over its feathers in reassurance. "Tch. Relax."Kyra's gaze flicked to the bird, then back to him. "Thing's got good instincts."Ichigo shot her a look. "Yeah? And what's that supposed to mean?"Kyra didn't answer.Didn't need to.She just smirked, turned on her heel, and walked off.Ichigo exhaled through his nose, shaking his head before following.The halls of Xcution's base stretched ahead, sleek and dimly lit, the faint hum of unseen machinery buzzing in the background. It was quiet—too quiet for the kind of organization they claimed to be.Or maybe that was just his nerves talking.His gaze flicked to Kyra as they walked."So?" he muttered. "What's this welcome supposed to be?"Kyra chuckled. "You'll see."That wasn't comforting.Ichigo sighed, running a hand through his still-damp hair.Whatever this was, it was probably going to be a pain in the ass.But fine.If they wanted to test him again, if this was their way of deciding whether he could actually be part of—Wait.Xcution?What kind of shitty name is that?His brow twitched. He barely knew these people, and they were already throwing around names that sounded like a bad mix of execution and some half-baked gang from a third-rate anime.Who the hell even came up with that?Kyra must've caught the expression on his face, because she let out a low chuckle. "Tch. What, already regretting it?"Ichigo scoffed. "I'd regret it less if your name didn't sound like a bunch of edgy middle schoolers trying too hard."Kyra stopped walking.Turned.And grinned like a goddamn gremlin."Oh, you're gonna fit in just fine."Ichigo narrowed his eyes. That was never a good sign.The raven let out another soft caw, shifting uneasily on his shoulder.Yeah. He had a bad feeling about this.But before he could ask what the hell she meant—They stepped into the lounge.And everything stopped.For a second, Ichigo thought maybe he had walked into the wrong room.Because this—this was not some secretive, high-stakes meeting.This was a fucking party.The long, dimly lit room was filled with tables—cards scattered across them, poker chips stacked high. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, cigarettes, and something fried that he really didn't trust.Yukio was sprawled on a couch in the corner, PSP in hand, but even he had a drink sitting next to him. Riruka was already halfway through a bottle of something bright pink, arguing loudly with Moe, who was waving his hands like he was making some impassioned speech about why he wasn't short.Giriko was at one of the tables, calm and composed, shuffling a deck of cards with the kind of precision that made Ichigo immediately suspicious.And in the middle of it all—Tsukishima.Sitting at the largest table, poker chips in front of him, a glass of something dark in his hand, looking every bit like a king overseeing his own personal kingdom.Ichigo's eye twitched. "You've got to be kidding me."Kyra clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning. "Welcome to Xcution.""Yeah, no. This looks like a drunk gambling den."Kyra shrugged. "Same thing."A chair scraped against the floor as Moe turned, eyes lighting up as he spotted them. "Oi! The new guy's up! Finally!"Riruka slammed her drink down. "Tch. About time! Thought you were gonna sleep forever."Giriko didn't even glance up as he dealt another hand. "We were considering taking bets."Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose. This was already giving him a headache. "Why are you people drinking?"Kyra walked past him, grabbing a bottle from the table and popping it open with practiced ease. "Simple. You survived. That means we celebrate."Ichigo blinked. "You—" He gestured vaguely at the mess of bottles, cards, and what looked like a half-eaten plate of takoyaki. "This is how you celebrate?"Moe grinned. "Hell yeah! We don't get new members often."Ichigo was about to argue when a new voice cut in."Besides..."Tsukishima swirled his drink, golden eyes half-lidded with amusement as he tilted his head toward Ichigo."It'd be rude not to join us."Ichigo exhaled sharply. "Tch. Yeah, I'll pass.""Aw, come on," Riruka drawled, resting her chin on her palm. "What, you too uptight to drink?"Ichigo scowled. "No, I just don't see the point of getting wasted."Kyra snorted. "That's what everyone says—until they start drinking."Yukio, without looking up from his PSP, muttered, "At least one of you idiots should be sober enough to drag the others to bed later."Moe scoffed. "That's what Giriko is for."Giriko took a slow sip of his drink, then flatly replied, "No."Riruka smirked. "See? We need you, Kurosaki."Ichigo crossed his arms. "Not happening."Tsukishima hummed, setting his glass down. "Well. That's unfortunate."Ichigo tensed. That tone.He didn't trust it.Kyra's grin sharpened. "Guess that means we have to pressure him into it."And that's when it began.At first, it was subtle—just little comments here and there."Oh, come on, it's just one drink.""What, you scared?""Man, I thought you could handle anything."chigo gritted his teeth. "I can, I just don't drink."Yukio, still glued to his screen, snorted. "Prove it."The room went silent.Ichigo twitched.And just like that, he realized he was already losing.Because now? Now it was a challenge.He exhaled through his nose, resisting the urge to punch something. "You guys are idiots.""Correction," Kyra said, lazily stretching an arm behind her head. "We're drunk idiots. Well, most of us. Giriko's still got a few brain cells left."Giriko nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink. "One or two."Ichigo ran a hand through his still-damp hair, resisting the urge to rip it out. "Look, drinking just makes you lose focus. You get careless, you get stupid, and you wake up with a headache wondering why you thought taking shots off the floor was a good idea."Moe snorted. "Damn, who hurt you?"Ichigo shot him a look. "You do not want me to answer that."Riruka, who was already three drinks in and teetering on the edge of full-blown intoxication, leaned forward with a wide, lopsided grin. "Ohhh, come on, Kurosaki. Loosen up." She wobbled slightly, pointing a finger at him. "You always look so grumpy. It's annoying."Ichigo raised a brow, unimpressed. "And you're drunk. That's also annoying."Riruka gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like he'd physically wounded her. "Rude!" Then, her face twisted into something that she probably thought was a seductive smirk but ended up looking more like a sleepy cat trying to be menacing. "You know... if you weren't so serious all the time, you'd be kinda cute."Ichigo blinked. "...Did you just flirt with me?""No," she said immediately. Then squinted. "...Wait, did I?"Moe snorted. "You tried. And failed. Miserably."Riruka groaned, dropping her face into her hands. "Shut up."Ichigo exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You guys are impossible."Kyra, still nursing her drink, grinned. "You're one of us now, Kurosaki. Get used to it."Ichigo scoffed. "I didn't agree to anything."She waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah. Just keep drinking your baby juice."Ichigo twitched. The raven on his shoulder let out a small caw, almost like it was mocking him. He shot the bird a glare. "Not you too."" Here, didn't even know we had orange juice... Hey Giriko why did you have oran- You know what nevermind " Kyra started before Giriko slid her a glass filled with Ichigo could never be able to guess but smelled disgusting as the ice inside of it hit the glass." Here kid. "The raven on his shoulder let out a suspicious caw, eyeing the drink like it was something dangerous.It was.Just not in the way Ichigo thought.Because, of course, Kyra wasn't actually letting him off that easy.Giriko, with his usual unreadable expression, subtly tilted his glass—just enough for a small trickle of something stronger to mix into the juice. Just a little. Barely noticeable.The first sip wouldn't change anything.But the more he drank?The less he'd notice.And the less he noticed?The more Giriko would add.Ichigo sighed, taking the glass with a grumble. "Tch. Whatever."One sip.The taste was normal.For now.But as the night wore on, the alcohol did its job.Ichigo, unknowingly drinking more than he should've thanks to Giriko's subtle tampering, started to relax.The usual tension in his shoulders eased. His scowl softened. His sharp replies became a little slower, a little less immediate.And before long—he wasn't just tolerating the conversation.He was part of it.