Chapter 4: Arrival
The inner district sprawled before him.
Suoh stood at the street entrance, taking in a scene pulled straight from feudal Japan—a living snapshot of old Edo-period towns he'd seen in period dramas.
Cobblestone roads stretched ahead, lined with wooden structures packed shoulder-to-shoulder. They weren't grand or luxurious, but the windows gleamed clean, doors hung sturdy on their frames, and most looked solid and well-maintained.
Souls moved through the streets in a constant flow—men and women brushing past each other, their conversations mixing with children's laughter as they ran and played. The whole district pulsed with life, with energy, with something resembling actual civilization.
If not for that squad of Shinigami he'd spotted earlier, Suoh would've had trouble believing he'd really transmigrated into the Bleach world at all.
His arrival drew attention. Curious glances. Evaluating stares. A teenage face like his was apparently rare in Rukongai—adolescence being the healthiest, most vital stage of human life meant fewer people died during those years.
Most of the looks were harmless enough. But not all of them.
A group of young souls lounging against a nearby wall caught his eye—or rather, they'd already caught his. They had that unmistakable delinquent air about them, all casual smirks and lazy postures that didn't quite hide the predatory calculation in their eyes. Their gazes traveled between the stone axe at his waist and Suoh himself, heads tilting together as they exchanged low whispers.
Suoh felt their aggressive attention immediately. He turned his head and met each of their stares in turn, his expression calm and unbothered.
His look was brief but deliberate. No fear. No challenge either—just the same measured observation he'd give to any other roadside scenery. Before they could react, he'd already looked away, continuing his survey of the inner district as if they'd ceased to exist.
That unshaken composure made the delinquents lose interest fast. The strange kid's face showed no hint of fear, and his build looked solid enough. Clearly not an easy mark. They had no reason to invite unnecessary trouble.
Besides, they could tell at a glance the kid had nothing worth taking. Aside from that crude stone axe, he didn't even have proper sandals on his feet. Zero value. They went back to their conversation, dismissing him entirely.
Suoh caught their retreat in his peripheral vision, satisfied. He'd already filed away the lesson.
In this world—where strength was everything—showing too much weakness invited oppression. But making enemies for no reason was just as stupid.
Right now, his priority was simple: learn the lay of the land and find sources of information. As for street thugs? As long as they didn't start trouble, he couldn't care less about them.
He didn't linger at the entrance. Stepping forward, he merged into the foot traffic, scanning the buildings that lined the street.
After walking roughly a hundred meters along the main road, he reached an area where the ambient noise grew noticeably louder. A building wider than the surrounding houses sat at the roadside—the clear source of all that activity.
The structure before him was a classic Edo-period izakaya. Raw timber construction, the wood grain marked with traces of age and wear. A deep blue noren curtain hung at the entrance, a white character for "sake" printed on the fabric. The curtain swayed gently each time a soul passed through, standing out distinctly among the more modest residential buildings nearby.
Found it.
A faint smile crossed Suoh's face. His hunch had paid off, and relief washed through him.
Ordinary souls didn't need food to survive—but they were still alive, which meant they still had desires and emotions. And appetite? That was one of the most basic instincts any living being possessed.
The vegetable plots he'd seen outside. This izakaya in front of him. Both proved the point.
Suoh quickly brushed himself off, patting away the dust his clothes had collected during the journey. Then he lifted his hand and swept aside the blue noren curtain.
Behind it, a half-open sliding door revealed movement inside—silhouettes shifting back and forth.
Clack—
"Welcome!"
Suoh pulled the door open and stepped inside. The mingled scents of food and alcohol hit him immediately, followed by a sweet, enthusiastic greeting from a waitress.
The voice belonged to a young woman weaving between customers, dressed in a pale blue kimono with a white apron tied at her waist. Seeing a new customer arrive, she quickly approached.
But when her eyes landed on Suoh's face, her practiced smile faltered slightly.
The boy before her was completely different from the rough-featured, street-worn souls she usually dealt with. He looked young and vital, with black hair, black eyes, clean features, and something in his bearing that was hard to ignore—a certain quality that set him apart.
What struck her most were his eyes. Bright and determined, carrying a will to move forward, to push ahead. Nothing like the passive, don't-care attitude so common among Rukongai residents who'd long since given up on anything resembling ambition.
Despite the dust on his clothes and his weathered appearance, nothing could hide how different he was from everyone else.
She stood there frozen for maybe two or three seconds, until Suoh's calm gaze met hers with a slight smile. That snapped her back to reality. A faint blush colored her pale cheeks as she ducked her head slightly, trying to cover her lapse in composure.
"O-one customer? Please, this way."
She led him toward a relatively quiet corner table, though her eyes kept stealing glances at him as they walked.
"What would you like to order? The bonito is really good today."
Once Suoh sat down, she offered a soft recommendation.
"Thank you."
Suoh smiled. "But I don't need food right now. Is the owner available? I wanted to ask if you're hiring."
The question came easily—he'd done this plenty of times back when he was studying in Japan and looking for part-time work. No embarrassment, no hesitation. Just straightforward and confident.
"Eh?"
The waitress blinked, caught off guard again. This time by his words. She looked him over once more, reassessing.
"You want to see the owner... to work here?"
Her tone carried clear confusion.
"That's right. I just came from the outer districts. This place looks busy—seems like you'd need the help. I thought I'd see if there were any positions available."
Suoh's explanation was clear and direct. As the waitress studied his earnest expression, she finally noticed he wasn't even wearing shoes. The thought of someone so young struggling to survive on his own tugged at something in her chest.
"The proprietress should be in the kitchen. I'll go ask for you—she's very kind, so I think you have a good chance."
Her voice softened, taking on a note of quiet determination she didn't quite recognize in herself.
"Either way, thank you very much."
Suoh nodded, expressing genuine gratitude. This girl's kindness was the second bit of goodwill he'd received since arriving in the Soul Society.
"Please wait here."
The waitress seemed flustered by his sincere thanks. After a quick reply, she turned and hurried toward the kitchen area.
Suoh sat quietly, absorbing the lively atmosphere around him. No anxiety. No nervousness.
This was the first step in his plan to establish himself in the Soul Society. He had complete confidence he could make it work.
The wait wasn't long. Soon a woman in a dark komon kimono emerged from the kitchen alongside the waitress, her hair arranged in a neat, practical style. This had to be the proprietress—her eyes carried the sharp, capable look of someone who ran a successful business. A few loose strands had escaped her bun, dampened by kitchen steam and clinging softly to her neck.
As she walked toward Suoh, regular customers called out greetings. She returned each one with a warm smile, projecting an air of approachability and genuine kindness.
***
30+advance chapters at patreon.com/Eatinpieces