The Despair of Shiba Isshin

Time shifts slightly backward.

"I'm back~"

A lively voice echoed.

Short, orange, side-parted hair. A school uniform. A slim yet energetic figure exuding the vibrance of youth.

But right now, she looked like a drenched cat, completely soaked by the rain, making anyone who saw her frown.

Improper behavior was not tolerated in the Ishida household.

Even though she still carried the surname "Kurosaki" for now—

She was destined to become the wife of the Ishida family head.

"Please be mindful of your manners."

"Ah… haha, sorry, sorry~ I'll remember to bring an umbrella next time."

She had never really cared about these things, but since she was staying at someone else's house, she had to at least show the proper attitude.

Kurosaki Masaki quickly put away her playful grin and pretended to be serious.

"It won't happen again. Yes, I promise!"

—Though it didn't seem to have much effect.

Perhaps because she was already a repeat offender, everyone remained indifferent.

"Hehe… hehe…"

Masaki could only scratch the back of her head with a sheepish laugh.

"Hurry and change your clothes, or you'll catch a cold."

A familiar voice came from the side. Masaki turned, and in an instant, her usual cheerful smile returned.

"You're back early, Ryuuken. We get off school at the same time, don't we?"

Ishida Ryuuken.

Short side-parted hair covering his forehead, rimless glasses resting on his nose, an air of cold arrogance surrounding him.

At this moment, however, his face only held helplessness.

"I didn't take a detour to watch someone stomp around in puddles for fun."

"Uh…"

"Move quickly. The food's getting cold."

His tone and words were both as indifferent as ever.

But Masaki didn't mind.

She understood—this was simply the way the Ishida family had always been.

Even among the Quincy, a clan that prided itself on lineage and discipline, the Ishida family maintained its own level of refinement.

Don't do anything foolish…

After changing into clean clothes, Masaki gazed out the window at the gloomy sky.

Her expression, usually as bright as the sun, now carried a hint of melancholy.

Logically, she shouldn't do meaningless things.

But…

"If I don't even try, then isn't that the most meaningless thing of all?"

Time was irreversible.

That's why she had to cherish every moment of the present.

It was a bit troubling to inconvenience others, but if she could help out later by doing some laundry herself—

Masaki's smile returned to her face.

Hmm~ hmm~ She had only ever seen scenes like this in movies before, but experiencing it firsthand felt completely different.

And… she didn't dislike it.

"Miss Kurosaki, Master Ryuuken is urging you again…"

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Masaki quickly sped up, finishing her outfit change in a hurry.

Dinner time.

To be honest, this was the most exhausting part of the day for Masaki.

There was barely any time to actually enjoy the food—most of her energy was spent dealing with the constant lectures.

—Mind your etiquette.

—Don't be too frivolous.

—Maintain the proper mindset.

If she didn't grasp it the first time, they would repeat it ten more times.

Even the simplest reminders were drilled into her without end.

At times, Masaki found herself truly marveling at the discipline of the Ishida family.

She didn't want to trouble others.

If she could make everyone happy and at ease, she was willing to endure a little hardship herself.

But unfortunately—

Some things were just part of her nature.

No matter how careful she was, Masaki simply couldn't act the way they expected her to.

And rather than seeming refined, her forced efforts only made her resemble a monkey clumsily mimicking humans.

"Pfft…"

A quiet chuckle escaped.

There was no malice behind it.

But to Ishida Ryuuken, it was utterly grating.

Before he could scold her—

Masaki had already laughed it off herself.

"Man, table manners are really complicated! Looks like I still have a lot to learn… don't you think, Ryuuken?"

His expression stiffened.

Lowering his gaze, his voice wavered with hesitation.

"I-I've told you… not to call me that in public."

"Ah, sorry, sorry, Ishida-san. I just keep forgetting these things, hehe."

Her habits were too deeply ingrained.

It was impossible to tell whether she was joking to lighten the mood or if she was just that naturally carefree.

Dinner ended.

Watching Masaki energetically bid farewell to everyone before leaving the room—

Ryuuken's indifferent expression gradually shifted into a troubled one.

The two of them were "cousins."

But in the Quincy, where bloodlines and traditions were paramount, their expected path was clear—

They were meant to marry.

Ryuuken asked himself—

Did he love Masaki?

Yes.

Unlike the cold, emotionless atmosphere that pervaded the Ishida family, Masaki radiated life and warmth.

She illuminated the rusted, decayed corners of their household.

This girl, as radiant as the sun itself—Ryuuken admired her deeply.

But…

Would this arrangement really make Masaki happy?

He had never asked her that question.

Due to family duty, due to the expectations placed upon her, Masaki never openly resisted.

But Ryuuken wasn't convinced that this was right.

True happiness—

Should never be built upon another person's sacrifice.

Though their time together had not been long, this was something he had come to understand from Masaki.

He wanted to be happy.

But before that—

Masaki shouldn't have to give up her own happiness just to fulfill someone else's expectations.

He needed to talk to her.

Soon.

Pondering his thoughts, Ryuuken stood up and called out to her retreating figure in the hallway.

"Wait…"

"Hmm? What is it, Ryuuken?"

She turned to him, face full of innocence.

For a moment, Ryuuken hesitated.

What he wanted to say wasn't complicated, but his mind stalled, as if rusted.

Still, he forced himself forward.

Slowly, he spoke the words that came from the depths of his heart.

"I think that—"

Before he could finish—

Beyond the walls of the Ishida estate, at the horizon—

A sudden burst of dazzling light erupted, like fireworks in a summer festival.

Both of them turned simultaneously, expressions frozen in shock.

"…Uh?"

What was that?

To an ordinary person, such a sight would seem like some kind of explosion or accident.

But with his Quincy training and natural intuition—

Ryuuken instantly grasped what was happening.

'The spiritual pressure fluctuations are intense…'

'There are two sources, both showing clear signs of battle.'

'These aren't just any spiritual beings—whoever they are, they're powerful.'

His right hand instinctively clenched.

As his expression tensed, the reishi within his body began circulating, flowing into his bloodstream.

He was ready to act.

But it wasn't time yet.

The best course of action now—was to observe.

But Masaki had already taken off running.

That completely disrupted his plans.

"Wait, Masaki!"

She only ran faster.

Ignoring his call, she kept going.

Normally, Masaki never disregarded others like this.

But right now, her face was filled with unwavering determination.

Because within her perception—

One of the spiritual pressures was rapidly fading.

Someone was on the verge of death.

…

"Damn it…"

Everything hurt.

Even lifting his arms felt impossible.

From the sky, he plummeted—crashing onto a street below.

Shiba Isshin landed in a disheveled heap, trying to brace himself for the impact, but the moment his body hit the pavement, he tumbled uncontrollably.

His condition was far worse than he had anticipated.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he grit his teeth and tried to push himself up.

But all he managed was a kneeling position.

His ears rang. His head throbbed. His throat spasmed.

Every possible pain blended together—

He felt like a sinking warship, battered beyond repair.

Breathe.

Regulating his breath helped him regain some focus.

But the blood dripping into his left eye blurred his vision.

He couldn't stay here.

If he didn't move, he'd be dead when his enemy caught up.

'And I need to get word back to Soul Society…'

This Hollow was a disaster-level threat.

Any lingering hope of defeating it was gone.

Even if he was at full strength—even if he used Bankai—he had no confidence he could kill it.

And worst of all—

Kido had absolutely no effect on it.

That alone was information worth dying to deliver.

Gritting his teeth, he scanned his surroundings for an escape route.

But before he could move—

A meteor-like figure crashed into the ground before him.

The street shattered beneath its weight, forming a massive crater.

And from within the smoke—

The Hollow emerged.

Completely unscathed.

Not a single scratch on its white body.

It was absolute.

It was monstrous.

And for the first time—

Shiba Isshin's expression twisted in pure despair.

Its white, serpentine body hovered effortlessly in the air, not a single wound marring its form.

Unscathed.

Untouched.

It was an overwhelming display of superiority.

Shiba Isshin's breathing was ragged. His grip tightened around his Zanpakutō, though his hands were trembling.

His instincts screamed at him.

He couldn't win.

Not as he was. Not even at full strength.

The fight had been completely one-sided from the beginning.

His body throbbed with pain. Every movement sent fresh waves of agony through his nerves.

He had already exhausted most of his options.

Running was futile. Fighting was meaningless.

But—

He still refused to kneel.

Even as the blood dripped down his face, even as his vision blurred, he forced himself to stand.

With a defiant grin, he spat out a mouthful of blood onto the pavement.

"Come on then!"

His voice was hoarse but unwavering.

"You want me dead? Do it already!"

"Come on, monster!"

It was a beast's final roar.

A cornered animal baring its fangs, even when all hope was lost.

Yet, despite his taunts, the Hollow didn't attack immediately.

Instead, it observed him—silent, unmoving.

Its glowing eyes, devoid of emotion, seemed to study him.

It was toying with him.

Mocking him.

From the shadows, Tōsen Kaname watched with dispassionate interest.

"It's over," he remarked flatly.

But beside him, neither Aizen Sōsuke nor Seiya Arima responded.

Instead, their gazes had shifted elsewhere.

Toward the rooftop of a nearby building.

A tall structure, overlooking the scene below.

Two figures stood against the storm, their forms outlined by the rain.

The droplets cascaded around them, yet none seemed to touch their bodies.

Their skin shimmered faintly with a subtle glow.

If one looked closely—

A stream of blue energy pulsed through their wrists, converging into bow-like constructs.

Reishi was gathering at an alarming rate.

Reishi manipulation.

The ability to gather spiritual particles from the atmosphere, condensing them into a weapon—

An ability foreign to Shinigami, yet fundamental to another group entirely.

Aizen's lips curled into a faint smile.

"Ah… so this is a Quincy."

And the moment his words fell—

A barrage of arrows rained down from the sky.

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Powerstones?

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