This is the setup. Next chapter brings it all together, and is the end of this story.

Ichimaru sat on the roof's edge, legs swinging back and forth as he watched the group march past him towards the gate to the mortal world.

"Oi! I forgot…was gonna thank that guy 'fer his hospitality…"

He waved to the man passing beneath him, and his smile stretched even wider.

"You be sure t' give 'im my regards, alright?"

The man didn't respond, his expression hardening a moment before stepping through the gate.

In, out. In, out. I pull the needle away and check my work. I'm stitching up a gash in one of my bracers, and I'm wondering why superheroes and the like never wear proper armor. God knows I've seen enough shinigami get hacked up by hollows with only those black outfits for protection. I've got to ask the next group I see about that.

I bolt the layer of chain mesh back onto the padding and slide it over my arm, flexing my fingers inside the heavy material. Perfect. Too back it isn't enchanted or anything like that. But I have my reiatsu, and maybe if I could put some into the material, super-harden it or something…

I tilt my head at a sudden kink in my neck, and the student next to me quickly looks back down at his own work. I turn my head to look around the room, and I can see a bunch of other students looking at me when they think they won't be noticed.

Thirty kids in my home economics class, and I'm the only one not making a stuffed bunny. Nope. I'm stretching chain-mail over bloody bandages from last night's fight.

Awkward.

I run into a hollow on the way home from school, and I hide my reiatsu from it, getting to within a few meters before it feels my presence. It half-turns towards me, mouth opening, but I already have a hand pointing at its forehead, and then walking on as if nothing odd was happening.

It's bizarre, almost surreal. Not the hollows though – it's the routine. I've completely gotten used to the whole idea. It's like I was hoping, or like I always knew something like this would happen. I did always love my anime, and I still do, cause I can get some good ideas from it. How to fight, how to use my reiatsu…I wander towards my house, and I know instantly that the students and that creepy captain are gone. That sixth sense comes so naturally now, I don't even have to think about using it anymore, it's just there.

If I live a long live, do I end up as an old man in the afterlife? Or do I hope I get skewered soon and arrive young and beautiful?

I guess it was my parent's death that made me think about the big questions in life. And now my new life is making me plan for my death.

I fall into bed, setting my alarm clock early, so I can spend a few minutes training tomorrow morning. If I take too much time, I can always shunpo myself to school.

Halfway through my math class, I can feel someone coming down the hall. It's Iba-san. And I don't know how I know, I just know. He knocks politely on the door, and when the teacher opens it, he gets a face full of Yakuza, and Iba just apologizes for the intrusion and steps inside with that one hand inside the business suit I gave him. The entire class squirms as the sunglasses scan the room, and the guy behind me starts to shake when Iba looks my way.

"Hey, bro. Can I talk to you for a second?"

I half get up before I look at the teacher questioningly, and he starts nodding so fast you'd think he's having a seizure. I follow Iba out with the entire class staring at me, and I start snickering the second the door closes behind me.

"Eh? Anyways. Higher-ups wanted me to ask you if you've felt anything weird around town."

"Weird how?"

"A ways back, you came across a hollow that Kurotsuchi-taichou was looking for, remember?"

"Like I could forget something like that. The bastard used me as bait for the damn thing. But Aizen-taichou killed it, right?"

"Yeah. But it looks like it had a friend. We've been sending out men to search, but all we have to show for it is five shinigami getting picked off by this thing."

"Shit."

"Yeah. You know how to hide your reiatsu?"

"Sort of."

"Well, keep it low, just in case. This thing appears at random and works so fast there's just a mess where a person used to be by the time we get there. We've stopped random patrols, but for some stupid reason, the guys in room 46 won't suspend training missions for academy students."

"What?! What are they thinking? They're going to get those kids butchered!"

Behind me in the classroom, my words carried through the door and made my classmates jump.

"That's what all the captains said. But those bureaucrats just gave some half-assed speech about showing strength and not suffering insults and lotsa high-worded crap that just means we're going to have to work five times as hard to make sure nothing bad happens."

I groaned. It was all I could do after that running through my head.

"So what about me? I just lay low and hope this thing doesn't come looking for me?"

"'Fraid so. Stay close to a seated officer when you can. But…I talked to my captain, and he agreed to lend you a little something, just in case."

"What is it?"

He gives some flippant salute as he turns to leave, calling to me over his shoulder.

"I'll show you when you get home!"

"Alright…"

I'm back in my classroom a minute later, textbook in hand, not really looking at it, but that's alright, 'cause everyone else is doing their best to pay attention to anything but me.

I'm at the door, key in hand, and I'm having a little trouble holding onto it because of the immense reiatsu that's so close to me. I finally manage to open the door, and I dump my stuff in the hall before bouncing downstairs.

Iba waves to me, and Hisagi bows slightly, pointing down the hall. Two captains, that's what's making my skin wriggle. One has dark skin and wearing the most mismatched collection of…err…clothes-bits? No idea. The other captain is freakin' HUGE, even kneeling he fills the room, with gloves covering his hands and a massive helmet over his head.

Hisagi-san appears next to me, bowing deeply, and I shake the reiatsu off my brain and remember my manners, bowing as well.

"Allow me to introduce my captain, Tousen Kaname, and the captain of 7th squad, Komamura Sajin."

"Pleased to meet you."

The reiatsu coming of off two captains combined is making it hard to breathe. I don't want to be anywhere near those two when they get going. It goes up a notch when Iba squeezes into the room past the milling students, holding something under his arm.

"Oi! Here you go, a little something…"

"Iba-san!"

Hisagi looks likes he's scolding Iba at his casual behavior, but I don't notice. All my attention is on the sword Iba is holding out towards me.

"A zanpakutou? F-for me?"

"Not exactly." Komamura shifts slightly, a deep voice sounding ominous from behind the massive mask. "A true zanpakutou is a manifestation of a shinigami's power and inner spirit. For those that do not have the power to manifest a blade of their own, these substitutes are forged for them to carry."

I nod, imitation or not, I'm still entranced by the gleam on the metal as I slide it out of it's sheath. It feels good in my hand, and I can feel my reiatsu flowing cleanly into it, strengthening it, the metal molding to my hand, and I almost feel like I've gained a new limb. I slide it back into it's sheath and Iba roughly ties a sash at my waist to hold it. I bow again, the new blade feeling like an old one, a weight on my waist that I've always carried.

"Thanks…err…"

What do you say to something like this?

"We will be holding a training exercise tomorrow evening." Tousen is looking me, and I feel his reiatsu flex outwards and around me. "I understand you've fought hollows before, but if you wish to join us, I would first see your capabilities."

"Of course."

Better make it good…I might be working for one of these guys one day!

I plant my feet and breath deeply, holding my arms out and parallel to the floor. I stir the energy inside me, warming it up, concentrating it. I turn my hands and press my palms together, forming the circle in my mind, pulling them apart and slamming them together. My reiatsu floods into the space between my hands, and a miniature sun ignites as I pull them apart, a blue-white sphere hissing and crackling between my hands. I count the seconds in my head, feeling my hands ache and concentration stretch under the dual strain of projecting the energy and containing it, and at eight seconds (my absolute best at full blast) I have to stop, my hands shrieking in protest as the energy rushes back into my body.

Iba-san starts snickering, and one corner of Hisagi's mouth has turned upwards.

"What?!"

He just starts laughing out loud, shaking his head and waving at me to calm down.

"You kids are all the same! Put 'em in front of a captain and they can barely move their fingers for the next couple days!"

"What? Wha…ohhhh, crap."

"Don't worry…" That little bastard Hisagi is pinching his lips to keep from smiling. "I haven't seen a young shinigami yet who hasn't overdone it when they're asked for their first demonstration in front of their peers."

There's a rumble behind the mask that might be a chuckle when my shoulders slump, and I can't help but join in.

"Ok, ok…but honestly…how strong am I?"

"Quite sufficient. If you recover by tomorrow, you are free to accompany us."

That's all the dark-skinned death god says before turning his bodies a few degrees to a pile of papers next to him, and I take the cue to bow and leave, heading upstairs.

"Here…"

I feel embarrassed having Hisagi cradling my injured hands like this, lending that immense vice-captain talent towards healing my hands. It feels like my mom cleaning a scrape or something, but I can't help but be grateful.

"Thanks, I…I really made an idiot of myself, didn't I?"

"No, like I said, it happens to everyone…almost."

"Almost?"

He switches hands, and I flex my fingers slowly, a pain like bruised and burned rolled into one.

"Hitsugaya-Taichou. He's called a genius. Breezed through the academy at an unbelievable rate. Even developed his bankai in something like thirty years while most shinigami take a few centuries."

"Bankai? What's-"

"Oh no…don't get ahead of yourself."

He's openly smirking now, at some little shinigami secret. I listen quietly to the hum of reiatsu from his hands, but before he leaves, I have to ask.

"So, really…"

"Alright…honestly, you're unusually strong." He furrows his brow and stares at me, his aura reacting to his intent, reaching out and sinking into me. "Even with the training you've got from experienced shinigami, the equivalent of twice the normal academy training…I'd put you at maybe 10th officer level already…it's strange…"

"Is that good?"

"Huh? Y-yeah! You'll make a pretty good shinigami, once you get the right training, and maybe…some experience…"

"Sweet…"

"Anyways, get some sleep. Healing techniques are only a stopgap, no substitute for real rest."

"Yes sir mom!"

I salute, carefully, and crawl into bed. I can't wait for another round of proper training. Under two relatively normal captains, no less!

"Should he be that strong?"

Hisagi rested his head on his arms, staring at the ceiling; one futon among the many students sprawled out and already asleep.

"Even if he was naturally gifted…no...reiatsu just doesn't feel right somehow…"

He yawned and turned over. He'd ask his captain about it tomorrow.

Not twenty feet from Hisagi, another shinigami was thinking the exact same thing. But the human's unusual strength didn't matter. It wouldn't be a hinderance. If anything, it means he'd be more likely to come out of tomorrow intact.

Or perhaps, even complete.