A/N: Transitional chapter featuring some beloved canon faces. Please let me know what you think and enjoy!


"I figured out that I can't forget. I can't really forgive. But I can live. Live with it. Like you live with a scar or a limp or whatever. You always know it's there. It reminds you never to let yourself do anything so stupid and horrible and wrong again. I step out of my rut, step again, and keep stepping."

—Gail Giles

II. Inevitable

Senya wakes up against a metal jungle-gym to a man with an immaculate, dirty-blonde bob. The straight-edge bangs emphasize his leery gaze and sharp chin, which somehow retain a lazy sort of charm to them. She blinks away the haze and startles properly at the stranger.

"Awake, are ya?" he asks, yawning into his sleeve. He takes his cap off and dusts it off, balancing on his haunches.

The girl sees the sword on his lap and her lack of reflection, jolting back into hysteria. "W-Where am I? Where is Nori?" Small hands close in on her scalp and she scans her surroundings. They are situated at the edge of a playground, the gates of her apartment complex not too far away. The freedom doesn't register at all in Senya's mind—or the fact that she's talking to someone other than her one friend.

He's gone, just like that, she thinks. I lost someone I love again.

"Ya have a nose, now breathe through it." The man thumps her back and the girl coughs out the breath she'd been holding in.

"What was that for?!"

"You looked constipated." When she gives him the most intense stink eye he's ever seen—that's some Hiyori-level shit—he falls back and puts his hands up in surrender. "Hey, hey, just being helpful, ya know? S'not everyday I go out of my way to save a soul."

Senya blinks, brain catching up to reality. "You can see me," she blurts.

"Sure can!" He's tilting his head here and there like she's some new kind of bird, a long grin flickering on his face. "Still tryna figure out what you are, though."

"A dead girl. A ghost. Take your pick."

"You can't be, they ain't supposed to bleed like that." The man points to where her chain starts, swirling his index finger. "Look, you have a bloody hole here and don't even notice. And you beat the shit out of a Hollow with a yo-yo! Ya can't be real, you're like the reverse of a soul. Absolutely backwards, I tell ya, but that's right up my alley."

Senya frowns deeply and removes a hand from her chest, coated in crimson and pulp. She flexes her working fingers for good measure, the other mangled arm hanging limply at her side, cringing at the gory sight.

When she looks back up at him, she notices that they are sitting in the sky now, the jungle-gym upside down on the other side. Senya tries to not give away her surprise; the man seems to get a thrill out of shocking others.

"On second thought," he begins, "I think I'll let you be someone else's mystery—"

"I don't understand what's happening," she interrupts. "I died, I know I did. It's not the first time, sure, but then I met Nori and we both had these chains coming out of us, and then he… he changed into that."

"The first step to wisdom is avoiding boys," her companion says, stroking his imaginary beard. "Not until you hit that special age, if ya feel me."

Senya doesn't think that anyone's advice could be so unnecessary.

"Since you're wondering," the man continues, "yer friend turned into something called a Hollow."

Thump. That strikes a distant chord in her mind, like when she was face-to-face with the creature itself earlier.

"Hollow is an adjective," Senya says, earning a flick to the forehead. "Ow!"

"Think again, little wisecrack. They're pluses gone bad, human souls that run outta time and lose their hearts."

Thump. Losing hearts? Pluses? Just what is she missing—

The boy named strawberry, a society of spirits, the end of the world, death—

She feels her heart drop into her blood-soaked gut instantly, as images of her favorite childhood story come to life. They arrive in waves, from when she cracked open the first volume in her fifth grade classroom in her other life to the name of her current hometown, Karakura.

"No," Senya breathes to herself. The tears build against her lashes, for both the loss of Nori and her earth-shattering revelation. "No way."

"Kid?"

"I'm screwed." The girl stands up, searching for a life eject button. "I can't do this. I have to get out of here."

I'm in the world of Bleach.

"I have to leave. I-I can't be in this world. Not like this."

Shinji Hirako, I know who you are. A captain that lost his whole life and friends in one night. I know that seeing you here means that the real monster has yet to come out

"Yeeeaah, I think you've had enough." He rises too and rolls his shoulders. "Time to get you home."

"What? I don't have one anymore."

Her eyes dart everywhere, for just one small window to get the hell out of here. That plan gets completely derailed though when the man lifts her by the scruff of her long-sleeve, flipping his sword with the hilt sticking out. She tries in vain to shove him away, her transparency kicking in now of all times.

"Why, 'course you do. All souls have one. I haven't done this in a while, so bear with me. Konsō!"

With that, he taps the harmless end of his weapon onto her forehead, sending a wash of good feeling over her body. It's a pleasant sensation between drifting through air and floating in water, blue light pooling from the bottom to the top like a developing chrysalis.

"Wha… did you… just…"

He ruffles her hair affectionately and watches as her legs begin to fade. "What's your name, kid?"

"Senya…"

"Shinji Hirako, at your service. I have a feeling that we'll see each other again. I hope ya survive whatever district you wind up in!"

What is he blathering about now? is Senya's final thought, as she disappears into the euphoria. Ha ha, so he sold me into the red light district? Eh, beats the retail job I had as an adult…


June in Junrinan unfurls with thatched roofs, maple trees, and the buzzing of cicadas. The red light neighborhood comes to life at the turn of noon, lanterns and parasols dancing along an imperceptible breeze. In the heat, merchants pull out their seasonal wares as souls flock to their favorite businesses, particularly the cold confectionery stands.

But the situation at the Red Spider Lily leaves much to be desired.

"What?! You lost her?"

"Y-yes, Oyakata-sama. The courtesans, they l-let her out after breakfast and we tried to follow but—"

A harsh spray of sake whips across the faces of two maids, who backpedal in fear and run out. The owner of the teahouse pours himself another cup and downs it in one gulp.

"That brat," he spits, wiping his mouth. "She's supposed to be preparing drinks and attending her shamisen lessons. Where has she run off to at this hour?"

"With all due respect, Nagano-sama," a whiskey-coated voice calls from across the room, "our little peach blossom has a life outside of these walls."

Behind the burgundy curtains emerges a woman clad in fine rose silks and sea green hair-pins. Her golden blonde locks frame intelligent blue eyes that contrast her deep olive skin. Purple markings on both cheeks denote the place she once came from, but only select people recognize them for anything other than their exotic beauty.

"It was you, Oiran Bel?" Nagano narrows his eyes. He's almost maroon in the face, which illicits a giggle from Bel. "You let one of my future assets just do as she pleases? That's 50 kan wasted for every hour she traipses away!"

"Let her be." The sound of her fan cracks like thunder, driving her point home. She glides over the tatami in a few steps, moving to sit down and pour herself a cup of sake. "Momo is not one to play. In fact, she must be concluding the funeral right about now."

"Whose?" The teahouse owner plops onto a cushion, joining his number one courtesan. A mix of resignation and fury bleeds into his features. Why is it so hard to groom this child? "It better not be for Hirumi. I told Momo to stop wasting money on useless things."

When Bel only provides a secretive smile, Nagano finally gives up and downs the rest of the alcohol. The woman listens to the quiet thumping of footfalls and the wind pick up outside, imagining what kind of life their newest girl would lead.

"Why won't she listen to me, Bel?" Nagano whines, pulling on what little hair he has. "I spend so much on her happiness! I buy her toys and books, I bring a dog home, I let her eat an extra rice ball. What else does a kid possibly need?"

"Space," the courtesan simply says. "To be her own person."

On the other side of town, where the foliage is abundant and the dirt road fans out, the much-hounded girl claps her hands together and bows before a small grave. The stone is poorly cut and lopsided, but the lilies that circle it are fresh and clear. Behind her, an old woman with dumpling cheeks and a flawless bun chants for the fallen.

"Hinamori-chan."

"Momo is fine, Hitsugaya-san." The girl turns around, a delicate smile on her lips. Her black hair is pinned up by a single pearl clip, equally dark eyes reflecting the forest back to the beholder. Her mauve kimono barely fits around her slight frame, pulled together tightly with a yellow obi. A jagged scar cuts horizontally across the middle of her neck, her only physical reminder of the past.

"Call me Granny, then," the elder says. "We are family here."

Momo blinks, surprised by the admission, before smiling even wider. "I will. Thank you for cremating Hirumi with me. All she had was the teahouse."

The teahouse that deflowered her, she thinks. The one that left her to die, when she couldn't walk anymore.

"Every soul deserves a proper burial." Granny softens Momo's fists and cradles them. "It is nice of you to send the courtesan off. You saved enough kan to buy your own freedom, but you spent it preparing your friend for the next life. Amituofo."

"She can reincarnate in peace now." They share a watery smile, walking away from the quiet enclosure. Their trip back to the candy store, where the former bags and shelves goods, is sweet and slow.

Momo feels a surge of affection for Granny, whom she met on a rainy day during her escape attempt from the teahouse. The girl sprained her ankle while climbing off the tiled roof and found herself hobbling to the store, where the elder patched her up and encouraged her to buy her freedom, rather than live a life on the run. Willingly, she returned to the Red Spider Lily, prepared for Nagano's punishment and to one day purchase her life back, away from entertaining men and prostitution.

Initially, "Senya" had ferociously rejected the idea of being bought in the first place and given a new name, but as "Momo Hinamori", she forced herself to come to terms with the change. When she finally looked at herself in the mirror, a scrawny, doe-eyed stranger peered back at her. There was no more turning back.

I'm not me anymore, she thinks, gripping Granny's hand tighter. But then again, was I ever really me? Or was I her all along?

It has been a year since her arrival to Soul Society, a place she had once known to be fiction. When she was a plus, she'd somehow encountered the freshly Visored Shinji Hirako and crossed space and time, to when Momo was a young girl and nothing in the Shinigami order had been altered yet. Living in Rukongai has proven to be an unknown but bearable existence, but the more she thinks about her future in this body, the bleaker it gets.

The only choice she has is to live again, knowing that the real Momo must've been lost in the transmigration, that this Momo will have to be an imposter and meet him some day.

Sōsuke Aizen. Momo shivers at the name. I should be about nine right now, so I don't know where he is or what he's plotting. I don't know if I'll be ready for it. Where am I in the main timeline?

Granny brings her back to the present, as they settle down for some watermelon on the patio. While her old self had never been the biggest fan of the fruit, Momo still digs in, remembering how much joy it brought the original person. She absently wonders what it will be like having foreign spiritual power run through her veins and when this body will begin to experience hunger. Something has certainly been humming under her skin, as of late.

"Won't they miss you at the teahouse?" the elder asks.

"I'm probably going to have my head shaved," Momo begins, "but you're worth every punishment, Granny."

"I hope my grandson will be as loving as you are." Granny chuckles, handing her a handkerchief. "He'll be arriving tomorrow. Would you like to pick him up with me?"

The girl pauses, taking the time to carefully spit her seeds out. She panics for a moment, thinking about Tōshirō Hitsugaya and his role in the greater Bleach plot, but decides that meeting one of her favorite characters as a baby soul will not endanger her immediately. Rather, it may be coming at the most opportune time, when the timeline has not yet spun out of control.

"Of course," Momo finally answers. "I think I might have the perfect name for him, too."