"Boom—!"
The location was still the Human World—Karakura Town, but the time had to be traced back thirteen hours earlier… that is, 9:60 p.m. last night.
The originally clear night sky was suddenly split by a blinding bolt of lightning, followed by a deafening thunderclap that echoed through the clouds—
"Whoosh—"
"Whoosh—"
"Whoosh—"
Just as the thunder began to fade, a series of sharp tearing sounds rang out once more from the pitch-black sky. A white figure hurriedly streaked across the moonlit heavens, sprinting at full speed toward the distance—
"What is… going on?!"
"What's happening to Masaki's body…?"
"What is this hole, like a Hollow's…?"
"Why… why is she in so much pain?! Why?!"
By the light of the bright moon, the white figure's true appearance was gradually revealed.
He was a thin young man in his early twenties, with silver side-parted short hair and delicate features. His skin was unnaturally pale, almost sickly, as if he rarely ever saw sunlight.
In his arms, he carried a young woman who looked gravely ill and barely clinging to life—none other than the pure-blood Quincy, Kurosaki Masaki.
"Why back then… didn't I stop her with everything I had—"
"Why back then… didn't I force myself into the fight?!"
"Why…"
The silver-haired young man, lost in self-blame, suddenly snapped back to attention and whipped his head around. A tiger-faced Hollow had appeared beside him at some point and was lunging at him with its gaping maw—
"Shk—!"
A sharp blade of light slashed down, cleaving the tiger-faced Hollow cleanly in two. With a single wail, it turned to ash and vanished into the air…
"Well now, that was dangerous—really dangerous! That was a close one!"
With a teasing voice, Shiba Isshin, wearing a captain's haori, appeared with one hand on his hip and the other shouldering his Zanpakutō. He grinned widely at the silver-haired young man.
"You can skip the thanks—I refuse gratitude from sloppy guys all year round!"
"Sloppy guy…? Are you talking about me?"
The silver-haired young man panted slightly. After hearing Isshin's mockery, he subconsciously looked himself over.
His white lab coat was soaked through with sweat and stuck to his skin, and the once neat, tidy silver bangs on his forehead were clumped together from perspiration. He really did look disheveled.
"But this isn't the time to worry about that, is it?! Damn it… Masaki is suffering like this because of you!"
The silver-haired young man roared inwardly, yet his face remained eerily calm as he stared at Isshin and spoke coldly:
"You're an idiot who can't even grasp the situation—"
"Huh? What…?"
Isshin's gaze passed over the young man and landed on the Hollow hole in Kurosaki Masaki's body. His black eyes widened instantly.
"Wait—what is that…? Let me take a look at her!"
"No—don't—touch—her!"
The silver-haired young man growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"I said don't touch her!!!"
"I—"
Isshin looked at the young man in bewilderment, having no idea why he had suddenly snapped—especially since Isshin had just saved him.
"Masaki… do you know why she ended up like this?"
The silver-haired young man clenched his teeth and snarled at Isshin: "You oblivious fool, how much longer are you going to play dumb when things have come to this?!!"
"…"
In truth, the moment Isshin saw the Hollow hole in Kurosaki Masaki's body, he had already begun to suspect that she had been bitten by the bull-headed Hollow during the previous battle.
Seeing that the silver-haired young man was on the verge of a complete breakdown, Isshin said nothing more and silently listened as the man vented his despair through anger:
"She broke the iron laws of the Quincy… just to protect you, a Shinigami… that's why she got hurt…"
Though the silver-haired young man held Kurosaki Masaki tightly, deep down he felt as though he was losing her bit by bit. He murmured to himself:
"Why… why did something like this have to happen to Masaki? Why…?"
"So it really was because of that injury back then…"
Isshin recalled the rainy night a few days earlier, when Kurosaki Masaki had used herself as bait to destroy the bull-headed Hollow.
"This wound is exactly like a Hollow's... I can't think of any other explanation. Therefore—"
Hatred flickered in the silver-haired young man's deep blue eyes as he spoke each word slowly and deliberately:
"I'm going to make you—"
"Stop right there, you two."
A man wearing a dark-green short coat and a white-and-green fisherman's hat suddenly appeared nearby, cutting off the silver-haired young man mid-sentence.
"What?!"
Shiba Isshin looked over in mild surprise, only to find the newcomer looking scruffy and unreliable at first glance—definitely not someone who seemed serious.
"There's no time to argue here. Please, come with me—"
Urahara Kisuke lifted a finger to the brim of his hat, his army-green eyes gleaming in the darkness.
"I'll tell you the choice that can save that girl."
"Y-you… who are you?!"
The moment the silver-haired young man asked the question, he already knew in his heart that Urahara Kisuke was likely a Shinigami, just like Shiba Isshin.
He had always strictly followed the Quincy iron rule of never having any dealings with Shinigami, and had long maintained a distant—even hostile—attitude toward them.
Over time, this attitude had even evolved into an unspoken rule:
When it comes to exterminating Hollows, Quincies only act after the Shinigami are dead.
But… at this point, in order to save Kurosaki Masaki, the silver-haired young man could only place his faint hope in this mysterious "Shinigami" named Urahara Kisuke—
…
"Senior! Senior!"
The repeated calls pulled Fūjin Taichi out of his brief reverie. He looked up toward the sound and saw a Shinigami in a standard Shihakushō running toward him excitedly from the direction of Karakura Hospital.
"Crap—looks like a Shinigami stationed in Karakura Town… I can't let him recognize me. If he reports this to old man Yamamoto later, I'm finished!"
Seeing the Shinigami getting closer, Fūjin Taichi hurriedly drew Zanpakutō · Ichi, slashed a cross-shaped "+" in the air before him, and leapt straight into it—
"Senior, senior, I'm—"
The stationed Shinigami's voice abruptly cut off, likely because he vaguely caught a glimpse of Fūjin Taichi's face.
"Was that… Fūjin Taichi? I… I'm your academy classmate, Gekko Senpū. You probably don't remember me anymore…"
Beep, beep… beep-beep…
At that moment, a rhythmic beeping sounded from Gekko Senpū's chest. He sighed softly as he looked at the now-empty utility pole, then reached in and pulled out a device resembling a flip-phone command receiver.
"Looks like someone's calling for help again…"
Gekko Senpū let out a small sigh and opened the receiver. Immediately, a series of urgent, distorted voices crackled through:
"Ksssh... This is White... ksssh... Mountain... ksssh... Encountering... kssshhh... and... ksssh... number unknown... ksssh... large... ksssh... Hollows... kssshhh... Requesting... assistance!!"