Night blanketed Karakura in deeper shades now, the streets mostly empty except for distant headlights and the soft hum of vending machines. Rukia and Ethan parted ways outside a cluster of apartments, a silent agreement that the conversation they'd had… could not continue.
Rukia watched Ethan disappear behind a corner.
Only when he was fully out of sight did she exhale.
---
Rukia's Walk Alone
She walked slowly, her footsteps careful, almost meditative. The pressure in her chest hadn't eased—not since she'd felt Ethan's reiatsu twist in that impossible, unnatural way during the Hollow attack.
She replayed it in her head again and again:
A flicker.
A fold.
A pattern that behaved like reiatsu… and simultaneously like something else.
Something old.
Something structured.
Something she couldn't categorize.
Rukia lifted her hand and flexed her fingers, still remembering the way the air vibrated when Ethan stepped forward to block that Hollow's strike—half a second before the strike existed.
He lied.
She knew he lied.
Not maliciously.
Not even selfishly.
But the lie was still there.
---
She Makes the Call
Rukia stopped beneath a secluded pedestrian bridge where the human world's noises died to a soft murmur.
She withdrew her Denreishinki.
And for three long seconds, she hesitated.
Reporting a comrade was serious.
Reporting a medical anomaly was more serious.
But reporting something connected—however faintly—to the strange reiatsu pattern she'd felt earlier in the day?
That was necessary.
She tapped the call rune.
A moment later, a calm voice answered:
"This is Fourth Division."
Rukia's breath steadied. "Vice-Captain Kotetsu. It's Kuchiki Rukia. I need to speak to Captain Unohana directly."
There was a pause on the other end. Not suspicious—just surprised.
"Of course… one moment."
Rustling. Footsteps. Quiet movement.
Then a new voice flowed through the connection like warm silk.
"Rukia."
Unohana's tone—gentle, serene—always carried the weight of someone who had lived far longer than her appearance suggested.
Rukia bowed reflexively even though she knew Captain Unohana couldn't see it.
"Captain. I apologize for contacting you during my deployment."
"If you reached out, there is good reason."
Rukia swallowed.
"It's about Ethan."
A pause.
Not shocked.
Not alarmed.
Just listening.
"Tell me."
Rukia closed her eyes.
"During a Hollow attack, his reiatsu… warped. It is the closest word I have. It folded into itself. It did not expand. It changed pattern, and in a way I've never felt from any Shinigami."
Unohana hummed quietly.
A thoughtful, knowing sound.
Rukia continued.
"He predicted the Hollow's movement before the movement existed. Not instinct. Not experience. It was like he saw something I couldn't."
Unohana let out a slow breath.
The kind that suggested she was not surprised.
"Did he harm you?"
"No."
"Did he harm anyone?"
"No."
"Did he cooperate? Did he remain composed?"
Rukia hesitated.
"…He lied to me. But he wasn't aggressive."
Another pause.
Deeper this time.
"I see."
Rukia's fingers tightened around the Denreishinki.
"I don't want to accuse him, Captain. But if there is something unstable inside him… if you have noticed anything unusual…"
"Rukia."
Unohana's voice softened.
"You did the right thing."
Rukia felt her breath catch.
Not because she doubted herself—
But because relief washed through her like a tide.
"I will summon Ethan back to Soul Society."
"Quietly."
Rukia bowed deeply, even alone. "Thank you."
Unohana's tone was gentle, but unmistakably decisive.
"Continue with your mission."
Rukia stiffened.
There it was again.
Unohana knew something.
Something she wasn't saying.
But she didn't press.
"Yes, Captain. I'll continue the reconnaissance around Karakura."
"Very good. Take care, Rukia."
The line went quiet.
Rukia stood under the overpass for a long time, letting the night settle around her.
Then she resumed walking.
Her duty pulled her forward.
And Ethan… Ethan was someone else's responsibility now.
Someone far more capable of dealing with whatever ailment—or secret—was inside him.
---
Ethan's Summons
Back at the temporary rooftop he had been using as a meditation spot, Ethan sat cross-legged, trying to force his reiatsu back into a stable rhythm.
It wasn't working.
Every pulse felt like a double-pulse.
Every breath felt like two breaths layered over each other.
Like his energy was shifting between Shinigami and something else.
The Panel flickered:
[STABILITY WARNING: Packet Drift 0.7%]
[SOLUTION: Controlled Suppression Training Recommended]
Ethan dragged a hand down his face.
"Yeah, I know," he muttered.
That's when he felt it.
A summoning ripple — faint, polite, impossible to miss.
A Fourth Division marker.
He stood instantly.
A Jigokuchō fluttered to his shoulder, wings shimmering white in the moonlight.
Unohana's voice projected softly through it:
"Ethan. Return to the barracks immediately. Your training must resume."
He swallowed.
A chill ran through him that had nothing to do with fear—
but with inevitability.
"…Understood, Captain."
The butterfly dissolved.
Ethan exhaled through his nose, straightened himself, and pulled open a Senkaimon.
He stared at the threshold.
Something in his chest squeezed.
"Rukia…" he whispered.
He hoped she'd stay safe.
He hoped she wouldn't press further.
He hoped he'd be able to keep the truth hidden long enough for her to never have to.
He stepped through.
The gate snapped shut behind him.
---
Rukia Steps Into Canon
A few blocks away, unaware Ethan had just been summoned home, Rukia approached the Kurosaki household from a distance—pure reconnaissance for now.
Lights were on.
Ichigo Kurosaki—unawakened, unaware—was inside.
And tomorrow night…
Everything would begin.
Rukia adjusted her gloves, steadied her breathing, and walked on.