I.
Kurosaki Ichigo, fifteen years old.
A first-year high school student with two younger sisters and an irresponsible old man for a father.
My home is not far from here—a small family clinic…
"So, that's the gist of it."
Slipping his school bag over one shoulder, Ichigo, with his striking orange hair and slightly delinquent appearance, crouched down and picked up the fallen bottle from the ground.
It was transparent.
The flowers submerged in the clear water were still vibrant, though it was clear they had been placed there for some time.
"Some punks must have messed with this… Sorry. If I had seen it earlier, I would've stopped them."
There was genuine apology on his face.
If someone else were nearby, they might mistake him for talking to himself—after all, there wasn't a single other person in sight.
"Damn, is this guy crazy…?"
He had heard comments like that more times than he could count. By now, he was completely immune to them.
He had never cared about what other people thought.
And right on cue, another voice spoke.
"Thank you, big brother."
He looked up toward the base of a nearby utility pole.
A translucent little girl floated there, smiling kindly at him.
Yes.
A literal ghost.
He couldn't recall exactly when he first started seeing them…
But from the moment he realized it, he had simply accepted it as a fact.
Was it familiarity? Or was it something deeper? He didn't know. But when he first laid eyes on these beings, it had never felt strange to him.
Almost as if—deep down—he had always known.
Now that he thought about it…
Had he encountered something like this before?
"You… You're the girl from that traffic accident a while back, aren't you?"
She nodded with a serene smile, as if her own death was nothing to be concerned about.
"…"
Ichigo reached out, intending to pat her head—only for his hand to pass right through her intangible form.
He could see her, but he couldn't touch her.
He glanced down at his hand, falling silent for a moment.
"I'll bring you a new flower next time I'm free."
"Okay! Thank you!"
See you later.
Returning home, Ichigo fell into his usual routine.
Arguing with his ridiculous father, teasing his younger sisters…
Life was quiet. Uneventful.
Sure, he could see ghosts.
But to Ichigo, it wasn't a big deal.
Study hard in high school, get into a decent university, land a stable job that could support his family, and live out his life in peace.
That sounded fine to him.
Yes.
That was the extent of Kurosaki Ichigo's ambitions.
Which is why—
When the "intruder" appeared that night, his reaction was so extreme.
"The hell is wrong with you?!"
Dressed in a black shihakushō, a petite girl with an equally shocked expression repeated his words.
"The hell is wrong with you?!"
"This is my room! You act like you don't see me, walk right in, and then—what the hell?! You're standing on my blanket!"
Wait a second—
Those were straw sandals.
Did this chick not know how filthy the streets were?!
"Do you have any idea how much time Yuzu spends washing these blankets?!"
And without hesitation—
Ichigo kicked her square in the back.
It wasn't until after the kick landed that he realized…
She was tiny.
Barely 145 cm—about the same size as his little sisters.
Even if she was some weirdo breaking into his house, maybe that was too harsh…
What if he hurt her?
A pang of guilt crept in as Ichigo opened his mouth to speak—
But the girl sprang right back up.
Completely unharmed.
And now, she looked pissed.
"You seriously kicked me?!"
She stormed toward him, muttering under her breath.
Then, before he could react—
Her index finger jabbed him sharply in the chest.
"Bakudō #1: Sai!"
Thump—
An unseen force slammed into him, twisting his limbs backward.
"What the—?!"
Ichigo barely had time to process what happened before he collapsed onto the floor, unable to move.
His arms and legs were completely locked in place.
All he could do was writhe pathetically.
It was… humiliating.
And terrifying.
This was beyond anything he had ever encountered before.
"You—what the hell did you do to me?!"
The girl crossed her arms and smirked down at him.
"Fool. This is the power of the Soul Reapers—this is Kidō!"
She had no intention of explaining it further to a simpleminded fool—
But before she could gloat any longer—
The bindings around Ichigo's arms and legs snapped apart.
Crack!
The spirit energy restraints shattered as if torn apart by brute force.
The girl's eyes widened in shock.
—That wasn't normal.
Even the most spiritually gifted humans shouldn't be able to break through any level of Kidō.
Something wasn't right.
Her gaze darted around the room, searching for an explanation—
But she found nothing.
"You… What are you?!"
"Could you not shout? You'll wake everyone up."
Ichigo massaged his wrists as he slowly sat up, his expression thoughtful.
"You called that thing 'Kidō'?"
"I don't know why, but… I feel like I've seen something like that before."
"There's something about it… that feels familiar."
Her brows furrowed.
"How dare you."
Kidō was an advanced Soul Reaper technique.
Even in the Soul Society, not all could master it.
Yet this human—
This nobody—
Had the audacity to claim it felt familiar?
Unbelievable.
She wanted to reprimand him—
But there were more pressing matters.
And so—
Despite their rocky introduction, the two began to talk.
It was a complicated subject, but both of them were straightforward people.
So it didn't take long.
Ichigo sat at the edge of his bed, summarizing the situation.
"So, you're a Soul Reaper from the Soul Society. You came here to purify souls and maintain balance?"
The girl, glancing around the room, nodded firmly.
"That's correct. It is both my duty and my purpose as a member of the Thirteenth Division."
She spoke with such conviction that Ichigo found himself rubbing his forehead.
"This sounds like some third-rate novel plot…"
It wasn't that he refused to believe her.
But he was a realist.
He had always trusted what he could see with his own eyes.
The girl snorted lightly.
She then located a wandering spirit in the house—
And, in front of Ichigo, performed a Konsō.
Sparkling particles of reishi scattered like stardust—
Soft. Fleeting. Beautiful.
"You're not going to hell."
"You're going to a place called the Soul Society."
"There, you'll get a fresh start. And if you're lucky… you might even reunite with your family."
Ichigo's expression flickered.
"Reunite with family…?"
But before he could dwell on it—
A deep, earth-shaking roar interrupted them.
Her body tensed.
"That's—!"
Without hesitation, she rushed toward the noise, moving like a swallow in flight.
Ichigo wasn't far behind.
Under the glow of the streetlamps, he saw it.
A twisted monster—
A Hollow.
Memories stirred.
Fear gripped his chest—
But he shoved it down.
He had to act.
Without thinking, he grabbed the nearest object—a folding chair.
"Rukia, wait for me!"
The battle had begun.
And before the night ended—
Ichigo Kurosaki's soul would be pierced by a Zanpakutō.
With a heavy thud, Ichigo landed.
Before him, the confrontation had already reached a critical point.
Rukia's small frame wove through the Hollow's attacks, her blade leaving sharp trails of light as she struck. Wounds split open along the creature's grotesque form, its blackened blood spilling onto the pavement.
But it wasn't enough.
Even with her skill, the Hollow refused to fall.
And then—
With a sudden burst of speed, she thrust forward—her Zanpakutō sinking deep into its flesh.
A deep, guttural roar tore through the air.
The blade had embedded itself fully—
And for a moment, it seemed like it was over.
Ichigo gripped his makeshift weapon tightly, watching as the Hollow writhed in agony.
But—
Something was wrong.
Rukia's brows suddenly furrowed.
Her instincts screamed at her—
Move!
She turned sharply—
"Ichigo, get back—!"
His breath hitched.
A second Hollow emerged from the darkness.
Larger. More menacing.
Its ghastly, gaping mouth split open, its razor-sharp claws lashing out in an instant.
Ichigo barely had time to register it.
Would he die?
Would he—
Before he could react, something slammed into his side—
A force so strong that it sent him crashing to the ground.
Dazed, he lifted his head.
And his heart stopped.
Rukia—
Blood poured from her side, staining her uniform a deep crimson.
The second Hollow had slashed her down.
"Rukia—!"
She clutched her wound tightly, gritting her teeth through the pain.
"Ichigo… listen to me…"
Her voice was hoarse. Strained.
"That thing… it was after you from the beginning… I miscalculated…"
A mistake.
A single misjudgment.
And now—
She could barely stand.
Rukia staggered, her knees threatening to buckle.
"You have to run… now…"
Run?
Ichigo clenched his fists.
His eyes flickered to the towering monstrosity approaching them—
Its massive frame blocking out the moonlight.
Its mouth curling into a sickening grin.
The stench of blood clung to the air.
He had never felt this helpless before.
His mother's face flashed in his mind.
If she were here—
She would have told him to stand tall.
To be strong.
A warm pressure seemed to press against his back—
As if someone were there, urging him forward.
And so, with a deep breath—
He made his decision.
"I'm not running."
Rukia's eyes widened.
Ichigo took a step forward, his body trembling—
But his resolve unwavering.
"If that thing is after me, then I should be the one to fight it."
Rukia struggled to keep her composure.
"Fight? You fool! With what?!"
He exhaled.
"Let's switch places."
She stilled.
A flicker of something unreadable passed through her expression.
"You… You don't know what you're saying."
Ichigo smiled.
"Of course I do."
His hands were still shaking.
His breathing was uneven.
But none of that mattered.
Because if he backed down now—
He wouldn't be able to face himself.
Even if it was reckless.
Even if it was suicidal.
He would protect the people in front of him.
Rukia let out a breathless laugh.
This kid…
"Do you fear death?"
The Hollow took another step forward.
Ichigo didn't flinch.
"Of course I do."
Then why?
Why was he smiling?
His eyes gleamed with something pure.
Something unshakable.
"Rukia…"
She looked at him—
At his outstretched hand.
"…Lend me your power."
A moment of silence.
Then—
She smirked.
"Alright, you reckless fool."
A Soul Reaper's power could be transferred—
By piercing the soul.
A temporary solution. A last resort.
But it would be enough.
"Just know this—"
She lifted her sword.
Her gaze burned into his.
"I can't guarantee you'll survive."
Ichigo exhaled.
"Then let's hope the Soul Society is an interesting place."
They stared at each other for a heartbeat.
Then—
He grasped the blade.
And drove it straight into his chest.
Light exploded.
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Powerstones?
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