The king's body trembled the moment the name echoed through his mind.
Slowly, he rose from his seat.
"Everyone," he said, his voice firm but strained, "come with me."
The scene shifted to the entrance gate of Kazim Fort.
The massive iron gates stood wide open, their towering frames casting long shadows across the stone path. Soldiers lined both sides in perfect formation, armor gleaming beneath the morning sun—yet not one of them spoke. Not one of them relaxed.
A crushing heaviness filled the air.
It was dark. Dense. Oppressive.
Even breathing felt difficult.
The ground trembled ever so slightly, as if responding to an approaching force that did not belong to ordinary men.
Then—
Figures emerged from the distance.
Step by step, their presence pressed closer, bending the atmosphere itself. At the center of them all walked a single man.
His pace was calm. Unhurried.
A long black coat swayed with each step. His eyes—unreadable, burning with a dull orange hue—looked straight ahead, indifferent to the soldiers, the fort, the kingdom itself.
The world seemed to shrink around him.
Mizoro Marucho.
Behind him—
Six figures followed.
They were the Z-rank hunters.
Each one radiated an overwhelming presence, so dense it felt as if the air itself bent around their bodies. Power leaked from them without restraint, crushing, merciless. The atmosphere warped, pressure sinking into bones and lungs alike.
Nobles froze where they stood. Some trembled openly, others lowered their heads in silent terror. Fear spread faster than words ever could.
One by one—
Everyone knelt.
Armor clattered against stone. Silk brushed the ground. Pride shattered quietly.
The king alone stepped forward.
Then he knelt deeply, his forehead nearly touching the cold stone beneath him.
"Welcome to Kazim Fort, Lord Mizoro," he said, voice steady despite the fear clawing at his chest.
Mizoro stopped.
For the first time since his arrival, he looked down.
A faint smile formed on his lips—small, calm, and deeply unsettling.
He raised a hand… and placed it gently on the king's head.
Mizoro's hand slid from the king's head to his shoulder.
"Stand up."
With effortless strength, he pulled the king upright. Before anyone could react, Mizoro drew him into a brief embrace. The king's body stiffened instantly, a flicker of fear flashing across his face as his breath caught in his throat.
Mizoro laughed lightly, the sound calm—almost friendly.
"Relax… no blood today!!"
He released the king, spreading his arms slightly as if addressing everyone present.
"Today is a happy day."
The words echoed strangely, carrying a weight that contradicted their cheer.
Princess Zafira stepped forward, her hands trembling despite her effort to remain composed. Her breath was shallow, her heart pounding as Mizoro's gaze turned toward her.
Without another word, Mizoro reached back. One of the hunters from his squad handed him a bundle of colorful flowers—fresh, vibrant, almost too bright for the tension-filled air.
Mizoro turned back and extended the flowers toward her.
"For the bride."
The princess blinked, surprise flashing across her eyes.
"…Thank you, my lord."
Her voice was soft, almost fragile. She accepted the flowers with both hands, bowing respectfully.
Behind Mizoro, the six Z-rank hunters stepped forward at once. In perfect unison, they bowed deeply toward the king.
"In respect of the Kingdom of Kazim."
The king finally released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Inside Kazim Fort
The decorated halls shimmered with light as Mizoro and his squad moved forward. Silk banners swayed above them, and the music grew louder with every step—flutes sang, drums echoed softly, and dancers spun in elegant formations.
Laughter and celebration filled the air, yet wherever Mizoro walked, the crowd instinctively parted.
He glanced around, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
"You have done well."
The words sounded casual—but carried undeniable authority.
One Hour Later
Mizoro adjusted his coat, his expression returning to its usual calm.
"I won't be staying for now," he said evenly. "I'm heading to headquarters. There's important business I need to deal with."
The king listened in silence.
"But," Mizoro continued, eyes glinting faintly, "I promise I'll be back by morning."
The king nodded, saying nothing.
Without another word, Mizoro turned and left—his Z-rank squad following closely behind him, their presence lingering even after they vanished from sight.
Scene Shifts — Nexus Vanguard
Ichigo's footsteps echoed lightly as he ran toward the door.
"Mom! I'm going out!"
From the kitchen, Aoi's voice followed him, firm yet warm.
"Don't be late."
"Okay, Mom. I'll be back in one or two hours."
The door creaked open, and Ichigo dashed outside, disappearing into the narrow street.
The city streets stretched quietly ahead of him. He ran alone, his small figure weaving between old buildings and worn roads.
Up ahead, a group of children around his age had gathered, their laughter sharp and careless.
Ichigo slowed his pace.
He took a breath and walked toward them.
One of the boys glanced at him and snickered.
"It's that ugly boy again."
Another laughed, pointing vaguely toward the distance.
"Yeah. His house looks like it's about to fall apart."
Ichigo stopped in front of them.
His voice was soft—slow, innocent, and hopeful.
"Would you guys mind if I join you?"
One of the boys stepped closer.
A cruel grin spread across his face.
"Yeah… yeah, why not," he said mockingly. "Here you go."
He shoved Ichigo without warning.
Ichigo stumbled backward and fell hard onto the ground. The shock made his chest tighten, and dust filled his vision. His hands trembled as he tried to push himself up.
Tears gathered in his eyes.
"I… I didn't do anything," Ichigo said softly, his voice shaking.
The boy laughed.
"My dad's a hunter," he declared proudly.
"And you're nothing."
Pain hit Ichigo as the boy's foot struck his stomach. The air rushed out of his lungs, and he curled slightly, gasping.
The boy lifted his foot again—
"Hey! Stop!!"
The shout echoed through the street.
Everyone froze.
A girl—about the same age as Ichigo—came running toward them. Without hesitation, she shoved the boy away and rushed to Ichigo's side.
She stepped in front of him, spreading her arms slightly as if to shield him, even though her hands were shaking.
"Move away from him," she said firmly.
Ichigo looked up at her from the ground, stunned.
"Why do you guys always keep bullying Ichigo?" the girl shouted, her voice trembling with anger.
For a moment, the children hesitated.
Then one of them scoffed.
He bent down, scooped up a handful of sand, and hurled it straight at her face.
"Take this!"
The sand scattered into her eyes.
They burst into laughter and ran off down the street, their voices fading as if nothing had happened.
"Aah—!" she cried, clutching her face. "That hurts…!"
Ichigo froze for a split second—
Then he stood up immediately.
"J-Jesseca!" he said, panic filling his voice.
He rushed to her side and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, afraid of hurting her even more.
"A-Are you okay, Jesseca…?"
Her body trembled slightly as she blinked through the pain. Slowly, she wiped her eyes and opened them.
For a moment, they were red and watery.
Then—
She smiled.
"I'm fine," Jesseca said softly.
That small smile eased something tight inside Ichigo's chest.
Jesseca crossed her arms and let out an exaggerated sigh.
"You're such a dummy," she said. "You know those guys are bad. Then why did you even go to them?"
Ichigo lowered his head, staring at the ground.
"I thought…" he murmured, his small voice barely audible, "that maybe I could still be their friend."
Jesseca looked at him for a moment.
Then she shook her head.
"You really are a dummy."
She turned on her heel, already walking away.
"I need to buy some stuff. See you later!"
She waved her hand without looking back.
Ichigo lifted his own hand and waved too, a small, quiet smile forming on his face.
"See you…"
Evening arrived.
The sky darkened, and the city's endless noise softened into a dull hum.
Ichigo returned home.
"I'm home," he said as he stepped inside.
Aoi was sitting on the bed near the window, the fading light outlining her tired figure.
"Welcome home," she replied gently. "How was it today?"
Ichigo's cheeks turned slightly red.
"I met Jesseca today," he said, his voice carrying a hint of excitement.
Aoi blinked in surprise and looked at him.
"Jesseca?" she asked. "When did she return from hunter training?"
Ichigo shook his head slowly.
"I don't know… I just met her today. After almost four months."
On the torn sofa nearby, Renji lay silently, his back turned toward them. He didn't move. He didn't speak.
Ichigo glanced at his mother again, a bright smile forming on his face.
"Mom… look."
He opened his palm.
Inside rested a small stone—smooth, faintly shining, ordinary to anyone else.
Aoi leaned closer.
The moment she saw it, her expression softened.
"It's beautiful," she said quietly.
Ichigo sat down beside her and gently leaned his head against her arm.
Ichigo's voice was small, but steady.
"Mom…"
He hesitated, then looked up at her with innocent determination.
"When I grow up…
I'll protect you."
Aoi's hand moved gently to his head, her fingers threading through his hair.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then, very quietly—
"You shouldn't have to."
Her voice carried a sadness too heavy for a child to understand.
Ichigo leaned closer, unaware of the weight behind her words.
Outside, Nexus Vanguard continued its endless noise—factories breathing smoke into the sky, machines screaming through the night—indifferent to the fragile peace inside that broken home.
Narration:
In a city ruled by hunters,
a child dreamed of a peaceful tomorrow.
Unaware…
That this fragile life was only borrowing time.
CHAPTER ENDS