2013
Karakura Town (空座町)
12 years later
The high-speed rail lay stacked, scorched, and broken along the rails behind the head house of The Old Karakura Train Station as if there was a demolition derby and one driver maliciously crashed the other beyond the intent of sportsmanship.
Seiji awoke from the smokey slumber whiff that raced into his nose and mouth. He coughed to the lung’s content and glared at a pool of blood next to his black shoes. Amid the aliment, he is overall okay and able to move, and he lifted himself out of the ragged leather seat. The front row leaned back, causing the lack of foot space hence, Seiji dragged himself out of the rows of seats.
The backpack and the long hard case with a handle were intact lying scattered across a couple seats. He went along the disorganized pathway, lifting his backpack from the floor. Luckily, there was no damage or deep lacerations. The hard case was scorched tinted, leaving a thin layer of cover at its dearest hold. Seiji took it off from the stack of clustered leather seats. He turned around multiple times to find an exit.
He saw an opening on the wall and quickly darted out of the train’s cabin. Precipitation poured right over his head, dripping red diluted water over his right eye. With one foot on the platform, Seiji forced himself out of the train, feeling relieved once he was able to walk freely.
Witnessing the horrific destruction reminded him of this last visit to Karakura Town. Once more, not a warm welcome. Seiji sighed. He heard fire truck sirens in the distance. Quickly, he barged out of the train station, sprinting down the stairs. Standing at the underpass of the station, he wiped his soaked face and the remaining blood on his right forehead. Afterward, Seiji crossed the sidewalk, and the pedestrians noticed the accident from above. Going through the developing crowd, he reached the sidewalk that led to the destination.
I could never get a break. Seiji fumed through heavy breaths as he speed-walked through the dense town.
Twelve years later and still the same old. He saw the tall building to his left, remembering lying in the hospital bed for a few days in agony. Pulling his smartphone, he scrolled through the messages and opened an image revealing an address, followed by a picture of the spot.
Oh yea. First intersection. The memories started to come back as he recognized the street. He came across the three-way intersection where there was only a right turn with no left. Looking out on the empty night road, he then sped to the other side. This is it.
As he was about to put his phone back into his pocket, the reflection of the streetlight right on the black screen revealed a black figure hovering behind him. Seiji nudged away, pushing him flat to the pavement, and slid to the other side of the street, striking hard on the brick wall.
Who in the hell? Seiji saw a person in a black Shihakushō wielding an ordinary Katana with the intent of striking him on the back. The face was not visible as the back was facing directly at him.
“Could this get any better,” he mumbled to himself.
The person spun and leaped into the air, going for him again. Seiji leaped away as it crashed into the brick wall with the jump. “Who the fuck are you?!” He yelled out.
It kept coming and sped through the debris, revealing a ragged-haired man with a non-expressive look on his face as if he was possessed.
Shit! Seiji quickly braced up with his case, clashing with the man’s katana. That was when his expression slowly revealed. Before Seiji could get the chance, the man thrust and kicked him in the abdomen, sending him away hard on the ground, tearing through the concrete. The kick crossed the line and Seiji saw the man backed up in the air again, recognizing his moves.
Bang!
Seiji unloaded all his rounds right at him, and the man dropped to the floor.
He got up from the shallow crater, wiping off concrete dust from his jacket and pants. He then heard a groaning noise. “You are fucking kidding me!”
Seiji angrily opens the case, breaking the lid. In the case was a normal katana with a black blade, a white hilt with a string of black chains attached, and a rectangular tsuba. He yielded it out of the case with a heavy right grip and sprinted to the bloodied man. Utilizing Kata from his youth paid off when Seiji waited till close distance and thrust his left foot forward, bringing the blade right in contact with the man’s abdomen.
In a flash, blood spurted all over Seiji’s face. I’m sorry.
A squishy thump sound went past him. Seiji got up from his stance, finding the decapitated body lying next to him. The rain stopped by the end of the cut. He went to his broken case and observed the black katana.
I’m a dead man. Forgive me, mother. He looked around the night street in case of witnesses, and once finding the coast was clear, he threw the case away in a trash bin that was right outside in front of a neighboring house.
While closing the lid of the bin, he heard footsteps pacing in his direction. He jounced with the katana on guard, only to find a petite and short woman with long black hair over her mid back, staring back at him as if he was being silly. After a couple of seconds staring exchanges until she saw the dead body beside him when she called somebody out.
This is bad! What now! Seiji mentally prepared himself for anything that was about to happen in the next minute.
“Is he here?”
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Huh. He heard a familiar voice responding to the woman’s call. He saw orange hair peeking briefly above the fence moving towards the street. When Seiji got a glimpse of the orange-haired man’s face, he slowly lowered his guard down.
“You look familiar. Who are you?”
Ah, shit. I forgot. Seiji pulled out his wallet and pulled out a paper about the size of two postage stamps, revealing the picture on it to him.
“Seiji?!” The orange-haired man said, “Tatsuki, he’s here!”
He then heard running footsteps reaching out of the house. The tomboy with short and curved hair down to her neck in a dark blue shirt appeared behind the orange-haired. Her neutral face turned to tears of joy and ran up to Seiji.
Let me go! Seiji grunted as he looked down at her, someone who he used to hang out with at the dojo and lost to at all sparring matches without holding a single victory. It feels strange now that he towers over her as all the recollections flow through his mind.
“You’re late!” Tatsuki said, letting Seiji go.
“I know, but I had to deal with this,” Seiji replied, stepping away for all to see.
“Shinigami body…” the petite woman muttered as if it was trouble. “What happened?”
“He attempted to commit murder as I walked from the Old Karakura Town Train Station. Thought a full round of a gun would do the trick, but it only slowed him down,” Seiji answered, lifting the man’s katana. “So, I had no choice.”
“Hey,” She sighed after he lifted the man’s katana.
“What?”
“Crap, you touched that man’s zanpakuto. Give it to me,” the petite woman demanded, gesturing to the katana Seiji picked up.
Seiji glanced at it only for his vision to suddenly flash, tumbling him down to the knees. The woman attempted to unleash the grip of his hand from the man’s katana but failed as Seiji’s left hand unintentionally gripped tighter.
Crack!
It disintegrated, turning into a flow of reiatsu. It went into the black katana and flowed right up to his right hand, seeping beneath the skin as Seiji could feel it cranking his forearms. He jumped from his knees and did a swirl, launching an upward slash motion to the sky.
Loads of white reiatsu were unleashed from the tip of the blade, flying upward with illuminating light enough to radiate the entire part of the street. It continued flying up in the sky like a rocket booster until an explosion formed into a mushroom cloud.
“Get inside!” the orange-haired yelled.
Heavy gusts accumulated from the air reached the surface, blowing at a speed that would only be seen during a tropical storm.
All ran inside with Seiji being the last to enter and the orange-haired man locked the door.
Seiji took a couple of breaths while grasping what had just happened. “You said Shinigami as in Soul Reapers, huh?”
The petite woman nodded, “Yeah. Me, Ichigo, my husband Renji, my daughter Ichika, and Ichigo’s son Kazui. Five of us here are.”
“Interesting,” Seiji muttered. “What could my mother be not telling me?”
“How’s your mother?” Tatsuki asked.
Seiji stood up straight after recomposing himself and turned to her, “She died a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s alright, I haven’t told anyone yet. However, what’s more confusing is what she left behind,” Seiji said, focusing on the black katana. “It was originally protected in a case, and there was a note written: ‘Wait until the right moment to open the case. Once it’s open, a new chapter for you awaits. Many secrets waiting to be discovered.’ “
“You need a day of review,” The petite woman said.
“Pardon me, but I haven’t got your name yet.”
“Oh, Rukia Kuchiki. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise…what’s that smell?”
Ichigo went off. “Just in time, Seiji. Dinner is ready.”
Everyone went to the dining and living room to gather. Passing by the couch, Seiji saw two people on the couch, watching the large flatscreen TV. They turned around simultaneously, and the guy closest reacted hyper-actively blurting about Seiji’s giant presence.
Seiji almost cracked at his silly comment, and the guy’s shaggier hair made it even more hilarious. “That was random.”
“Pardon him, nice to meet you. I’m Mizuiro. He’s Keigo.”
“Ah, pleasure; name’s Seiji,” he greeted, shaking his hand. He does have nice headphones.
“Hey, why did you ignore me?!” Keigo howled, raising his fist.
Ah, bullocks. Seiji immediately reacted with a grab of his fist and nudged it right back to his face, knocking him out. “Jesus, what’s wrong with him?”
Mizuiro shrugged. “He’s always so unserious.”
“You got that right. That is called goofy.”
“Oh, I know,” Mizuiro agreed, grinning.
Seiji then heard the second calling for dinner. He went to the dining table, meeting Ichigo’s wife, Orihime. He also met one of Ichigo’s closest friends, who was already sitting in his seat.
“You look familiar,” Seiji commented, while making himself comfortable and sitting down.
“Do I?”
“You remind me of the doctor who saved me twelve years ago. Are you his son or something?"
“You’re very perceptive. I’m Dr. Ishida but call me Uryu.”
“Seiji, nice to meet you, doctor.”
Tatsuki took the last seat to Seiji’s right while Ichigo sat on his left. Mizuiro already ate, so he stayed on the couch watching his phone and the TV all at once. Keigo, to Seiji’s surprise, was knocked out by his own light punch as he could hear his snore.
“By the way, did you say you had sisters too?”
“They upstairs right now, doing work,” Ichigo replied.
Orihime brought out two large pots and set them on the portable stove. One is for beef stew and the other is for miso stew with Mackerel, which is Uryu’s favorite meal. She then came back with a large bowl of rice with the scoop. Rukia assisted her and came out with a plate of okonomiyaki.
All commune at the table with Ichika and Kazui the last to arrive at the table.
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Seiji ??: 25 Years Old (25歳)
Hair Color (髪の色): Black (黒)
Eye Color(瞳の色): Purple (紫)
Profession (職業): Investor and Soul Reaper (死神)
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