The blood hit the ground first, spattering in thick, wet drops that soaked the dirt like ink. Then Shinichi dropped with it, his knees buckling without warning, like a marionette whose strings had been suddenly cut. He collapsed forward, catching himself barely with one trembling arm as a violent spasm racked his body.
"Gh—haaaagh!" He doubled over and vomited a thick mouthful of blood, painting the grass beneath him in a violent crimson. His vision blurred. His ears rang. His entire body trembled with a pain that wasn't just physical—it felt like something inside him had turned against him.
"I can't... move..." he rasped, breath shallow. "Shit…"
Then a voice rang out behind him—dry, edged with strained amusement.
"Seems like you weren't able to handle her powers after all."
Shinichi turned his head sluggishly toward the voice. Urahara Kisuke stood a few paces away, breathing heavy, his cane planted firmly in the earth to support his weight. A long strip of cloth was tied tightly across his torso, blood soaking through in dark red splotches. Even Urahara's coat, usually pristine, was shredded in places, and his hat hung low over his eyes, shadowing a rare look of weariness.
Shinichi blinked. "The hell happened to you?"
Urahara gave a weak chuckle, the corners of his mouth curling despite the wince of pain that followed. "Played with fire. Got burned," he said simply. "Seems like the Demon Queen doesn't like me very much."
The sky above them was beginning to shift. That dark velvet of night slowly peeled back, revealing the early hues of dawn—a hint of purple bleeding into grey.
Urahara glanced upward. "We should move. Sun's almost up. Let's get you healed."
Shinichi tried to sit up, only for a sharp pain to seize his ribs. He hissed and slumped back down. "Well... you might've missed the part where I said I can't stand up."
A heavy silence passed between them.
Then Urahara groaned dramatically. "Tch... of course. Out of all the things I planned for tonight, carrying a half-dead, back-talking teenager wasn't one of them."
Despite his own injuries, he bent down and hoisted Shinichi onto his shoulder with a grunt, one hand still clutching his own side where the Queen's attack had left a deep, festering wound. Shinichi winced as his limp body shifted.
"This is the most humiliating walk of my life," Shinichi mumbled weakly.
"Speak for yourself," Urahara said, beginning the long walk back. "I just got slashed open by a woman I've never even dated."
The sky continued to brighten slowly as they limped down the mountain path.
Inside Shinichi's battered mind, a single thought lingered like an echo in a vast chamber:
She injured Urahara… that easily…?
He swallowed hard, the bitter taste of blood still on his tongue.
Just how powerful is she… really?
---
It was supposed to be just another ordinary day at Karakura High.
The hallways buzzed with the usual chatter, shoes squeaking against floors, and the echo of homeroom announcements bouncing down the corridors. But there was something... off. A kind of silence that filled the spaces between conversations.
Because something was missing.
More accurately, someone was missing.
No Shinichi. No Orihime. No Chad. And Ichigo? Nowhere in sight.
Tatsuki sat at her desk with her arms folded, eyes lazily scanning the whiteboard up front. The seat next to her, usually occupied by Inoue's bright and air-headed energy, was cold and empty.
That's when Keigo slammed his hands dramatically on her desk, looking like he had just unraveled a government conspiracy.
"Arisawa! WHERE ARE THEY?"
Tatsuki barely turned her head, unimpressed. "How the hell should I know?"
Keigo gasped like she'd just betrayed him.
"Oh my god…" he whispered in theatrical horror. "Are they EXCLUDING us from something?! Is this what betrayal feels like?! I THOUGHT WE WERE A TEAM!"
From behind, Mizuiro gave his usual cool chuckle. "You're being dramatic again, Keigo."
Keigo pointed wildly at Mizuiro. "You're not denying it!"
Tatsuki rolled her eyes and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder as the school bell rang. "I don't have time for this."
She didn't wait for them to follow. She just walked—out the doors, into the sunlight, and through the familiar streets of Karakura. Yet everything felt unfamiliar now. This town used to feel like the same old routine. But now...?
Now it was ghosts. Hollows. Shinigami. Quincy. People getting powers. Her getting powers.
What the hell had her life become?
Tatsuki sighed sharply through her nose, hands shoved in her pockets, her brows creased. But then—
"Tatsuki-chan!"
A familiar voice. She turned around.
Orihime stood at the corner of the sidewalk, waving at her like she hadn't just gone missing from school for what felt like forever. Beside her stood Chad, calm as always. But the oddest one wasn't them.
It was the cat.
A black cat with golden eyes sat neatly at Orihime's feet.
Tatsuki narrowed her eyes. "Where the hell have you guys been? And when the hell did you get a pet cat, Orihime?"
Before Orihime could answer, the cat did.
"I'm not a pet."
Tatsuki froze.
The cat's voice was smooth, masculine, and oddly refined. The wind died for a second. Her mouth opened slightly.
"…the hell?"
The cat stared at her, unwavering.
"Tatsuki Arisawa," it said. "Do you want to save Rukia Kuchiki?"
Tatsuki blinked, once. Twice. Her first instinct was to freak out, maybe scream, maybe run. But the words—Rukia's name—rooted her to the spot.
She glanced at Orihime. Then Chad. Both nodded solemnly.
Tatsuki crossed her arms, exhaling slowly. "Save her? From what? Where is she?"
The cat stepped forward, his tail flicking behind him like a pendulum.
"I'll explain," he said. "But you need to listen carefully."
And so he did.
The cat—Yoruichi, as he later introduced himself—told her everything. About the Soul Society. About Rukia's capture and pending execution. About Ichigo's resolve to go after her. And what Orihime, Chad... and now Tatsuki herself, needed to do.
By the time he was done, the air around Tatsuki felt different.
Heavier.
Orihime broke the tension with her usual warm smile. "Oh! I forgot to say—this is Mr. Yoruichi!"
Tatsuki turned to her with a deadpan expression. "We're using Mr. for a talking cat now?"
Orihime pouted. "Don't be rude, Tatsuki-chan."
Tatsuki sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, yeah…"
Yoruichi stepped forward again. "So? What's your answer, Arisawa?"
Tatsuki didn't need to think long.
She looked up, fire lighting behind her eyes. "Of course I'm in. Rukia's a friend. She never deserved any of this. I'll do what I can to help her."
Yoruichi nodded once, slowly. "As expected of you."
Tatsuki gave a half-smile, confident but curious. "So… when do we start?"
Yoruichi turned.
"Now."
Tatsuki blinked. "Wait—now?"
"No time to waste."
And just like that, the black cat started walking ahead. Orihime and Chad followed without hesitation.
Tatsuki stood there for one second longer, then jogged forward, muttering to herself.
"This is going to be so goddamn weird…"
Yoruichi led the three of them through the shadowed alleys of Karakura, the streets damp from last night's rain, glistening under the dim glow of streetlamps. Eventually, they arrived at what looked like an abandoned industrial building, its windows cracked, rusted gates hanging loosely, overgrown weeds curling at its edges like forgotten whispers.
Tatsuki raised an eyebrow. "This place looks like it breeds tetanus."
Yoruichi, in his black cat form, didn't even look back. "Perfect for secrecy, wouldn't you say?"
They entered in silence.
Inside, the air was stale and thick with dust, but it was open—spacious enough for movement, hidden enough to remain unnoticed. Yoruichi turned to Orihime and Chad, his golden eyes narrowing with purpose.
"You two—continue with what I told you to focus on. Remember, concentrate. Breathe."
Orihime and Chad nodded and sat cross-legged, already familiar with their tasks. They closed their eyes, their breathing calm and steady, each of them slipping into focused stillness.
Yoruichi then padded over to Tatsuki. "You. With me."
He led her to a smaller, secluded area in the building—a corner where shattered concrete walls gave way to a patch of dry earth and broken tiles. It was quiet here. The hum of the world seemed distant.
Yoruichi finally turned to face her. "Now… Arisawa. I want you to try and tap into that power of yours."
Tatsuki sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I can't. Ever since that day, I haven't been able to summon it again. But… I've been feeling weird since then."
Yoruichi's gaze sharpened. "Weird how?"
Tatsuki rubbed her forehead, searching for words. "My senses… they've become sharper. Way sharper. I hear things I shouldn't, smell things others can't. My reflexes are ridiculous now. But it's not just that…"
She hesitated.
Yoruichi waited.
Tatsuki exhaled, finally saying it: "A few days ago… I saw a dead rabbit. Just lying there on the sidewalk. But instead of being disgusted, I felt—" she grimaced, "—tempted. Like it was… fascinating. Like I wanted it. Like I wanted to taste it."
A silence stretched.
Even for someone like Yoruichi, who had seen and known many things across centuries, this... gave him pause. That wasn't normal. That wasn't close to Chad's or Orihime's powers.
This was primal. Dangerous.
"Tch." Yoruichi turned away, processing. "That's… concerning. But also interesting."
He faced her again. "Alright. Try to activate your ability."
"I told you, I can't—"
"I didn't ask, Arisawa," Yoruichi cut in sharply. "I told you to try. Just because it hasn't worked doesn't mean it never will. Think back. What were you feeling the first time it activated?"
Tatsuki looked down, brows furrowed in frustration.
What was she feeling back then?
Then… it hit her.
That moment.
Orihime lying broken. Helpless. Screaming.
Tatsuki-chan! No!
And her own voice.
I WILL PROTECT HER.
Her heart thudded. She clenched her fists.
Suddenly, her breathing grew heavier. Her canines sharpened, extending ever so slightly. Her nails elongated, morphing into fierce claws. Her forearms became coated in white fur, her muscles bulging, twitching with raw strength. Her pupils narrowed to golden slits, glowing with the unmistakable fury of a beast barely caged.
A low growl vibrated from her throat.
Yoruichi took a step back—not out of fear, but caution. She was awakening. Fully. But not without risk.
From a distance, Orihime opened one eye slightly, sensing something strange in the air.
Tatsuki's eyes twitched toward her. For a split second, her body moved instinctively—like a predator sizing prey.
Yoruichi's voice was sharp. "Focus, Arisawa! Calm yourself. This is your power. You control it. It does not control you."
Tatsuki's body trembled. Her claws clenched tighter. So tight that her palms bled, crimson drops falling to the dirt beneath her.
But she didn't fall.
She gritted her teeth. Inhaled.
And then—exhaled.
The beast inside her growled, but did not roar. Her claws retracted. Her fur faded. Her breath steadied.
Finally, she opened her eyes again—still golden, still slit—but clearer. Sharper. Human.
"I… I think… I have some control over it now," she said, voice shaky but proud.
Yoruichi gave a small, approving nod. "Good. That's enough for today. I don't want you overexerting on the first day. Tomorrow… we begin combat training in that form. Controlled."
Tatsuki nodded. She let the form fall away completely, collapsing onto the ground. Her body ached, but her heart felt full.
She smiled.
It wasn't a big smile.
But it was real.
She could help.
She would help.
She would be strong enough… to save Rukia Kuchiki.
Even if it meant becoming a monster to do it.
---
Seireitei, Soul Society.
The sky above Seireitei was its usual pale blue—untouched, unconcerned. But inside the cold, stone-walled detention unit, time felt like it had stopped. Rukia sat quietly on the wooden floor of her prison cell, chained by nothing visible—only the crushing weight of silence and inevitability. Her eyes were dull. Not broken, but… emptied.
Across from her, outside the bars, Renji sat cross-legged, arms resting on his knees, trying to read her face. He failed. Completely. Her expression hadn't changed since he got there.
Eventually, he exhaled sharply and decided to break the silence with a classic Renji move—a painfully stupid question.
"So... uh… how do you feel?"
Rukia's eyes slowly drifted toward him. Her voice was dry and razor-sharp.
"About to be executed in a few weeks. I feel very good. Thank you."
Renji winced. "Right. Yeah. That was dumb."
He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly and leaned back against the wall. "Still, you're the captain's little sister. I'm sure it's not gonna actually happen. They're just trying to scare you. He wouldn't let it get that far, right?"
Rukia looked down at her hands, the faintest shadow darkening her eyes.
"No," she said quietly. "He won't stop it. He hasn't even looked me in the eye since I came back. Not once."
Renji went quiet.
He didn't know what to say to that. So, being Renji, he chose a new direction—worse, somehow.
"S-So… I was wondering… Did you really… you know… sleep with that guy?"
Rukia blinked. "Who?"
Renji frowned. "That guy. In the world of the living. Black hair, golden eyes, asshole energy radiating from every pore—that guy."
She sighed. "Shinichi."
Renji tensed.
Rukia looked him dead in the eye. "So what if I did?"
Renji looked like he'd just been punched in the soul.
"I mean… is that a problem?" she added, flatly. "I'm going to die anyway."
That hit harder than it should've.
Renji slammed his hand on the table in front of him. "Stop with this dying nonsense! They're not gonna execute you! That's insane! They wouldn't just—"
The door slid open.
Captain Byakuya Kuchiki entered without a sound, his spiritual pressure lowering the temperature in the room by several degrees. His eyes never strayed from the far wall, not even toward his sister.
He spoke with cold clarity.
"Rukia Kuchiki. You are to be executed. Your sentence will be carried out within twenty-five to thirty days. Be prepared."
He turned and walked away.
No emotion. No hesitation.
Only silence remained.
Rukia stared at Renji with a faint, sardonic smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"You were saying?"
Renji couldn't answer.
He just sat there.
And the silence returned.
---
It was Midnight again.
The clouds hung heavy over the mountains, veiling the moonlight in a silver gloom. Rain from earlier had left the rocky ground slick and cold. But none of that mattered atop the barrier-protected plateau where two blurs of movement clashed, over and over.
Steel rang against steel.
Shinichi and Urahara were locked in a high-speed duel, their blades flashing through the air like streaks of lightning, clashing in precise and brutal harmony. Sparks erupted with every collision, the sound of steel howling through the wind.
Shinichi's body moved on instinct—faster, sharper than before—but not enough. Not yet.
Urahara remained eerily calm in contrast, every step calculated, every swing efficient. He parried a downward slash from Shinichi, sidestepped the follow-up strike with a fluid motion, and in a flash—
BAM.
A kick landed squarely on Shinichi's chest, sending him flying backward like a ragdoll. His back slammed against the rocky slope with a painful crack, but before he could even groan—
CRACK.
Urahara appeared above him and slammed his fist into Shinichi's face, snapping his nose sideways with a sickening crunch.
"AH, FUCK!!" Shinichi screamed, grabbing his face as blood poured down his lips and chin.
Urahara blinked and stepped back, tilting his head like he just knocked over a cup of tea. "Oops… sorry, sorry, Kisaragi-san. I got a little carried away."
Shinichi groaned, rolling onto his side. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" he roared in muffled agony, barely intelligible with a broken nose.
Urahara smiled behind his fan, unfazed. He twirled his cane in one hand and raised a finger. "Well, I think that's enough for today. We'll continue tomorrow night. Rest up~"
With that, he turned and walked away, hands in his pockets like nothing happened.
Shinichi lay there in the dirt, blood streaming down his face, eyes staring up at the dark, cloudy sky. He spat crimson and whispered, "I swear to God, I'll kill him one day…"
Meanwhile, Urahara walked down the slope, the faint sting of Shinichi's earlier slash still fresh on his cheek. He didn't touch it. Instead, he kept walking, gaze locked ahead, thoughts racing.
"Sorry, Kisaragi-san… but that last hit was no accident."
He pulled his hat down slightly, hiding his eyes.
"I need to confirm a theory of mine..."
---
Morning in Karakura Town.
Birds chirped. The streets bustled. The sun was out.
And Shinichi Kisaragi?
Dead to the world.
Splayed across his bed like a corpse, drool trailing down his cheek, he looked more like a man recovering from a war than someone just trying to survive Urahara's "light" training sessions.
The clock on his wall blinked mockingly:
1:03 PM.
Shinichi cracked an eye open. The moment he saw the time, guilt punched him square in the gut. He jolted upright.
"SHIT."
He scrambled out of bed, brushed his teeth like he was being chased, and took the coldest, fastest shower of his life.
By 1:30 PM, Shinichi stood in front of his mirror, water still dripping from his hair, eyes sharp with renewed determination.
"Fuck it," he muttered.
"I'm finishing the Physical Training quest today."
He called out:
"System! Use Physical Training Quest Progress Buff!"
The system chimed:
[Physical Training Progress Buff Activated.]
[Time Limit: 5 Hours.]
And so it began.
1:35 PM – Shinichi dropped down and cranked out push-ups so hard his knuckles bruised. He pushed through it. Veins bulging, sweat dripping, his face a mix of fury and pain.
2:15 PM – He was outside, sprinting through the streets in a blur.
His legs burned, lungs screamed, but he didn't stop.
He ran laps around Karakura, soaked in sweat, dodging pedestrians and nearly getting hit by two bikes.
3:45 PM – Squats. Hundreds of them.
With weighted bricks in his arms.
Quads trembling. Eyes locked forward.
4:30 PM – Back to core training.
Crunches. Side planks. More pushups.
His body was shaking, muscles begging him to stop.
5:30 PM – Shinichi was barely breathing.
And then, he kept going.
The sun was long gone.
The clock hit 11:00 PM.
Shinichi's feet were dragging against the sidewalk.
Every muscle in his body throbbed. His eyes were dull.
He stumbled forward one more time—and collapsed.
Face first onto the cold pavement.
[Physical Training: 99%]
[Physical Training: 100%]
[CONGRATULATIONS. QUEST COMPLETED.]
The words appeared in front of his tired eyes like divine scripture. Shinichi was too exhausted to even cheer. He just lay there, blinking slowly.
"Finally…" he muttered.
"I'm gonna die now. This is it. I'm dying right here."
Then came another chime.
[As you've completed one of the hardest System Quests, you'll be rewarded with one of the most powerful rewards.]
His eyes cracked open.
"…Most powerful?"
Another screen materialized—darker, sleeker than before. It pulsed with ominous energy, black and red symbols swirling on the interface.
And then it appeared:
[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU'VE RECEIVED A BLACK RING.]
Shinichi's eyes widened in disbelief.
His exhaustion was replaced by a rush of adrenaline.
He sat up slowly, his hands trembling.
"What the hell is a Black Ring…?"