Everyone was surprised.
For different reasons, though—so no one spoke. The air went oddly quiet.
"Hey, Shinomiya, from the way they're looking, I think they know you," Yayahara blurted, unable to stand the silence. She elbowed him, whispering—but in the pin-drop quiet, it might as well have been a shout.
"It's not 'seems like,' and it's not just me—it's us… to be precise, me and Kurosaki."
Shinomiya looked at Rukia, then at the girl beside her in a Shihakushō—Orihime—and hummed, thoughtful.
Named, Ichigo didn't overthink it. After his surprise, a mean little streak surfaced; he raised a hand. "Yo, Shinigami. Long time no see."
"Not Shinigami. Kuchiki Rukia."
Rukia lifted her chin.
"I distinctly recall telling the two of you that great name."
"Great or not, it's been ages. Who remembers?"
Ichigo curled a lip. He had zero fondness for the pint-sized woman who'd shipped him to Soul Society without a word.
"It's only been a few months. That's an eyeblink to a Soul Reaper. If you can't keep up, you've got a long way to go."
She sneered.
In truth, she wasn't calm at all.
A reunion after mere months—paired with growth beyond belief.
At this range, the stench of blood—Hollow blood clinging with residual reishi—hit her like a wall.
There were so many traces she couldn't count them.
She and Orihime had fought without a day off—
but even on the same battlefield, the ferocity was worlds apart.
Forget a first-year.
Even she, a hundred-year-old who barely scraped into "elite," felt her scalp prickle.
Just imagining it made her chest tight.
And those two brats—the blond and the black-haired one—and the other two newcomers she didn't know… stood there like it was nothing.
It made no sense.
Had the Academy been swallowed by Squad 11's battle maniacs?
Or… was the problem these four?
While Rukia's thoughts ran wild, Shinomiya said, "You've changed too. Your reiryoku's almost gone. Retiring? Training up a successor? Doesn't look like it—she's not even in spirit form."
Every eye—Ichigo's, Rindō's, Yayahara's—snapped to Orihime, making her fidget.
She really wasn't in spirit form.
Shihakushō. Zanpakutō.
But—human.
Ichigo frowned. "What is this? Inoue, why are you mixed up with her, and how are you a human with Soul Reaper powers? That shouldn't be possible."
"Eh? Um… You're Kurosaki-kun, right?"
"…Hey, we're not that distant. We're both Tatsuki's friends. Don't tell me you forgot me. I remember you came to my family clinic three years ago—carrying your brother. So strictly speaking, we're not just 'friend of a friend.'"
"Eh?! That was your clinic?"
Orihime's eyes went wide.
They shared a close friend—
but in middle school they'd never interacted, only knew of each other through Arisawa Tatsuki.
Familiar strangers.
Until tonight, she'd thought so.
"Whatever. After what happened, it's normal you didn't have room for anyone else. I get it."
Feeling Shinomiya and the others' looks, Ichigo's face heated. He decided to skip ahead.
"Either way, we're at least acquaintances. If she forced you into something dangerous, I'm not sitting still."
"Hey! What do you take me for!"
Orihime tugged on the fuming Rukia and rushed to explain. "It's not like that! Kuchiki-san didn't force me. She even gave me her power to save me."
"?!"
"What!"
"Oh ho."
…
Orihime's confession hit like a bomb.
The only one calm was Shinomiya—who'd suspected as much.
"N-no—I mean—"
Seeing Orihime panic, Rukia sighed. "Forget it. You're not a good liar. I'll explain. I came ready to be questioned anyway."
She laid it all out, cleanly—like she'd drafted and redrafted a statement on the way here.
No excuses.
Just facts.
That, more than anything, made the weight of it sink in.
She didn't expect a good end.
"Shinomiya… is giving a Soul Reaper's power to someone else really so serious?"
Seeing her expression, Ichigo's chest clenched—
and burned with anger.
She'd saved people—done her job—yet she'd be punished for it.
What a joke.
"Under the law? A major crime," Shinomiya said, voice mild.
"Everyone's spiritual power is unique. Transferring Soul Reaper power is like transferring your identity. It raises base moral issues—like the fallout from cloning in the human world—and it threatens politics and class structures in subtle ways… That last point is the real reason it's treated as a felony."
"What happens?"
"Hard to say. She probably won't be executed."
"Won't be executed."
That did not comfort Ichigo.
His anger only climbed.
"…Then what can we do?"
"Idiot, don't." Rukia cut him off before Shinomiya could answer. "Just be grateful if you don't report me to Soul Society. Do nothing else. Forget you saw me."
"The hell? Weren't you here to ask for help?"
"Don't be stupid! I sensed abnormal pressures and dragged Inoue along to check. I did consider Soul Society might show up—but I was confident I could hide it, as long as Inoue wasn't seen."
"She just ran up to us!"
"…Because you all bunched up and suppressed your pressure, I couldn't pin you down and ran right into you!"
"Then stop forcing it. You didn't do anything wrong. When you're in trouble, ask your allies. That's not shameful."
"Allies? You mean you—who didn't even graduate? That black-haired kid's more reliable than you."
"Ugh… can't deny that. But you've got no room to act superior right now."
"…."
While the two bickered until they were red-faced, Shinomiya, Yayahara, and Rindō prudently took a few steps back, out of splash range.
There was a vacant lot beside them with a stack of concrete pipes that made decent seats.
Yayahara sprawled across the top, spent.
Rindō crouched to study an anthill.
"Come sit a minute," Shinomiya called to Orihime, who was hovering, lost.
"They…"
"That's just how they blow off steam."
Convinced—sort of—Orihime sat beside him.
"Isn't carrying that sword around a pain?"
"Eh? It's fine—see?"
She dropped her Soul Reaper state.
Shihakushō and blade melted into motes and re-formed as a six-petal hair clip, a warm little accent in her hair.
The sight made Shinomiya think of Ginjō Kūgo.
"Being a Substitute Soul Reaper's rough—especially tonight."
"…"
She nodded.
But there was no complaint in her face. Her gentle eyes drifted to Rukia.
"It is rough—but if not for this, I'd have died."
"Kuchiki said your brother almost killed you?"
"Mm."
Shinomiya's bluntness didn't bother her. She'd made her peace.
"After he died, I made a new friend—the girl Kurosaki-kun knows. We got close—so close my brother thought I'd forgotten him. He got angry."
"I don't blame him. I should've said how I was trying not to make him worry. In the end I did say it. He went to Soul Society at ease—not a slave to Hollow instinct anymore."
"Kuchiki-san didn't just save me. She solved our misunderstanding—saved both of us. I can't repay that."
"So I'll fight. Even if I'm scared and tired. I'll protect her now that she's lost her power."
The three listened quietly to her water-clear honesty.
"Um… I don't even know your names," Orihime realized.
"I'm Shinomiya. That's Rindō Yu. Up there is Yayahara Kuma-no. Kurosaki you know. We're Academy classmates—same year, same homeroom."
"That explains the chemistry."
She couldn't help but envy the little team.
"It helps that Yayahara's a social butterfly, Rindō's in my living group, and Kurosaki—well, he and I were killed by the same car."
Shinomiya leaned back and finally let himself relax.
Eyes closed, he missed Orihime's startled look.
"Shinomiya-kun… died in a car accident too?"
"Ah… strictly speaking, I dragged him into it. So whenever there's a good thing, I think of him. I even shared extra tutoring with him."
"I… see."
His matter-of-fact tone made her think of herself—oblivious to the odd looks Yayahara and Rindō were exchanging.
A car crash.
Dragging someone else in—and the guilt.
The difference was, she hadn't died.
If she had gone out with her brother that day… maybe they'd be meeting in Soul Society now.
"Ahah Look what I found."
A dry, mocking voice cut in.
Shinomiya opened his eyes and looked to the peaked roof across the street.
Two silhouettes stood there.
"Out of nowhere… who are you?" Ichigo stopped arguing and scowled.
"If Academy kids can't recognize the big shots of the squads they'll join someday, that's not great. Consider this a lesson. I'm Abarai Renji, Lieutenant of Squad Six. As for who this is… I won't say. Someone here knows."
Renji's serious eyes fixed on Rukia.
"Isn't that right, Rukia."
"…"
Rukia trembled. She couldn't stop it. Not just the pressure—she feared the silent man beside Renji.
"B—Brother…!"
-------
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