Seireitei woke slowly that morning, lanterns still warm from the night watch and the faint hum of patrol rotations drifting across the white-walled streets.
Ethan woke less gracefully.
Everything hurt.
Well — not everything. Just every single part Unohana had politely dismantled yesterday.
He sat up on his futon in the Fourth Division quarters, ribs gently wrapped, arms sore from blocking live steel, and shoulders aching from learning to pivot under pressure without losing tension.
Unohana called it "conditioning."
Ethan called it "death's rehearsal."
Still… he had to admit it.
Something in him felt sharper.
More awake.
He dressed and stepped into the hall where murmurs already filled the division. Orders were being passed down in quick bursts. Something was happening.
Mira — one of the senior healers — spotted him.
"There you are! Captain Unohana wants you at the front courtyard. Now."
Ethan blinked. "Did something happen?"
"Yes. Division Six sent a runner. They're requesting personnel for an inter-division briefing."
Inter-division.
That meant something political.
Something official.
And something that had to stay quiet.
When Ethan arrived, he immediately saw two things:
1. Captain Unohana, serene as ever.
2. Lieutenant Kuchiki Rukia, dressed for field deployment.
Her sleeves were rolled and tied neatly, her zanpakutō sheathed at her hip. She stood perfectly straight, posture stiff — too stiff — like she was trying to hide the fact she was nervous.
Unohana greeted Ethan with the smallest nod.
"Good. You're just in time."
Rukia turned, polite but distracted. "Captain Unohana. I appreciate the quick response."
"Of course," Unohana replied. "Is this regarding your assignment?"
"Yes."
Rukia exhaled softly. "The living world. Karakura Town."
Ethan's attention sharpened.
This was it.
The beginning.
In canon, Rukia's deployment to Karakura was supposed to be simple: a routine Hollow purification. Nothing unusual.
But everyone knew what it would lead to.
Ichigo.
The chain reaction.
Aizen's long game cracking open.
Ethan kept his face neutral.
Unohana motioned for Rukia to continue.
"We've received reports of unusual Hollow behavior. A subtle increase in reishi density. Division Eleven insists it's nothing significant, but Captain Kuchiki wants the area validated before operations escalate."
Unohana nodded slowly. "And you are to take the lead on reconnaissance."
"Yes."
There was a flicker in Rukia's reiatsu — not fear, but pressure.
Responsibility.
Unohana folded her hands behind her back.
"Rukia. Before you depart, I will assign a supporting medic to accompany you to the Senkaimon staging area."
Rukia frowned. "I don't need a healer for deployment."
"Not for deployment," Unohana clarified.
"For the transition. And to provide initial scan work before you step into the living world."
Rukia hesitated.
Unohana turned her gaze toward Ethan.
"I believe Ethan will suffice."
Rukia's brows lifted.
Ethan felt his eyebrows twitch up too.
"Me?" he muttered.
Unohana's smile was delicate. "Yes. Ethan has shown an ability to read spiritual disruptions with unusual sensitivity. And I want to confirm whether his… talents… extend into the threshold between worlds."
Translation:
She wanted to test him.
Again.
Rukia bowed slightly. "If that is your decision, Captain, I accept."
Unohana nodded. "Good. Ethan — prepare your medical kit and meet Rukia at the Southern Gate within ten minutes."
Ethan bowed. "Yes, Captain."
Rukia watched him leave, thoughtful.
Not suspicious, but curious — the kind of curiosity Soul Reapers had when they sensed something just a bit… off.
Like she recognized someone who shouldn't be standing in the Fourth Division's colors.
---
Southern Gate — Senkaimon Staging Area
The gate guards saluted Rukia with practiced efficiency. Ethan arrived seconds after her, medical pack at his shoulder.
Rukia pulled on a pair of white deployment gloves.
"You look nervous," Ethan said before he could stop himself.
She blinked. "I'm not nervous."
"You're standing like a statue."
She flushed.
"...I'm not nervous," she repeated.
Ethan gave a small smile. "Then you're fine. You've done this before."
Rukia looked away.
"Yes. But this time… I'm being evaluated."
Ethan's brain caught that instantly.
In canon, that detail was always implied but rarely stated.
Her performance in the human world would determine how seriously Byakuya considered her position — and future.
Rukia breathed out slowly.
"Let's begin."
She opened the small device that resembled a butterfly cage. A Jigokuchō fluttered out, wings shimmering softly.
Ethan stepped close enough to quiet his own reiatsu, letting the Panel give him a subtle sensory boost. A passive, low-signature ability: nothing detectable.
Rukia glanced at him.
"You're very calm."
"Not calm," Ethan said. "Just pretending."
The corner of her mouth twitched — the ghost of amusement — before she raised her sword.
"Open—"
But before she finished the ritual, Ethan felt it.
The air around Rukia vibrated.
A strange tension.
Like two currents crossing.
Something faint, subtle, but not random.
Ethan instinctively shifted his hand toward the outer perimeter, as if warding something off.
Rukia froze. "What is it?"
Ethan frowned. "Your entrance point… something is pushing against it from the other side."
Her eyes widened. "A Hollow?"
He shook his head. "Not yet. But something is… brushing the threshold. Like it's waiting."
Rukia straightened, instincts kicking in.
He saw the way her hand tightened on her sword.
"Ethan," she said quietly, "that is not normal."
"No," he agreed, voice low.
And deep in the world between—
Something scraped against the edge of the Senkaimon.
Not a Hollow.
Not a Shinigami.
Something between.
Rukia raised her zanpakutō, her voice steady.
"Open — Senkaimon!"
Light burst across the courtyard.
The doorway to the living world opened wide—
And whatever had been pressing against it suddenly recoiled.
As if shocked.
As if it recognized her.
As if it recognized him.
Rukia stared into the glowing corridor.
"…That shouldn't have happened," she whispered.
Ethan nodded.
The mission was officially underway.
And something had just noticed them.