Several hours had passed since his fraught attempt at obtaining Shikai by the time Akira finally woke up. Groggily fluttering open his eyes, he was greeted by the roof of the Urahara Shōten. Before he could contemplate how or why, a spasm of hunger burst in his stomach, and groaning, he curled into a ball.

"Here." The sound of a porcelain bowl clinking against the wooden floor made him crack open an eye, and the scent of ramen wafted over him. "Eat up – food is the best way to heal from Reiryoku exhaustion."

Forcing himself upwards, Akira saw the speaker was Tessai. The man pushed the bowl closer to him, and without another word, Akira ravenously dug in. By the time he finished he was still starving, but at least he was capable of being coherent.

"… What happened?"

"You passed out shortly after achieving Shikai." Tessai informed him. "Congratulations are in order, by the way."

Akira frowned, memories of the crumbling prison entering his mind – more specifically, memories of his fear and panic. "I'm not sure – I don't think I've done anything to be congratulated over."

Tessai's moustache twitched, and Akira was surprised to hear a hint of mirth in his usually stoic voice. "Earning your Zanpakutō's name is merely the first step in your journey, not the last. The fact that you realise that is a sign of wisdom."

Much to Akira's delight, Tessai handed him another bowl of ramen. The teen sat back and listened as the middle-aged man explained what had happened after he'd fainted. Wakaba had wanted to perform some diagnostics on him, but his friends had chased her off, not wanting her anywhere near Akira after what she'd just done to him. Hence why Tessai was there – he'd been put in charge of keeping an eye on Akira in her stead. A flash of guilt ran through him - he was the one who dragged Wakaba into this, after all.

"Your friends are waiting for you." Tessai stood up, before adjusting his glasses. "They were… rather upset by the situation."

As the older man left the room and the Phantoms filed in, it turned out 'rather upset' was the understatement of the century. Ann was bristling with rage, fiery wafts of Reiatsu leaking off her, and while Makoto was far more restrained, her crimson eyes were furious slits. Ishida shook his head despairingly the second he laid eyes on him, and even Ryuji's expression was grim. The normally energetic boy wore a deep frown, his gaze averted. The only one who seemed remotely on his side was Futaba, who mouthed 'sorry' before standing well out of the other girls' radiuses.

Akira gulped, sitting up straight. He was in deep shit.

"Akira!" Ann hissed, marching towards him before gripping his shoulders in a vice. He'd forgotten under her warm exterior, Ann had a temper. "You stupid, stupid idiot! I'd say I'd expect this sort of dumbassery from Ryuji, except no! Even he's smarter than that!"

"Ann is right." Makoto's shoulders trembled. "Just what in the world were you thinking?! You could have gotten killed, or worse! We might have had to kill your ourselves!" Any sign that the two girls had once been enemies was long gone, both united by their shared wrath.

The blonde's lip trembled, something deeply hurt entering her eyes, and a wave of alarm rushed through Akira as he realised she was half a second away from crying. "Did you even think about what something like that would have done to us? How on earth would we be able to focus on saving Rukia if we had to mourn you?!"

Her words were more kindling on the bonfire that was Akira's growing guilt, and he cringed, sinking in his seat. The answer was no – he simply hadn't thought about it.

Ishida sighed. "It would be hypocritical for me to judge you on your poor decision-making, but I believe you owe the others an apology."

He was right. "I'm sorry." Akira confessed, and the Phantoms quieted. "It wasn't an impulsive decision – Wakaba thought we had a good chance of success, and Tessai was there in case things went wrong. Still… you're right. I knew what would happen to me if I failed, but didn't think about how it would affect you."

Silence followed his statement as the Phantoms processed his words. Akira wasn't lying – Ann's words had hurt because they had been right.

"Why didn't you tell any of us?" There was no anger in Ryuji's voice, only a plaintive whine.

Akira winced. It was infinitely worse than Ann and Makoto's harsh rebukes – he felt like he'd kicked a puppy. "Because you'd have tried to stop me." He confessed, words tasting like gravel in his mouth.

"Of course we would have!" Ann snapped. "This is your life – your humanity – we're talking about here! It isn't something worth gambling with!"

She spun on her heel and flounced out, slamming the door shut behind her. Akira winced, the slam of the door feeling much like a slap to the face. Logically, he understood Ann's fury, but that didn't lessen the impact it had on him.

"Excuse me. I'm going to make sure Ann is alright." While Makoto was infinitely more restrained about it than the blonde, she still turned away and left, but not before shooting one last reproachful look back at Akira.

Silently, Ishida peeled himself away from the wall and followed suit. Without the trio, the room felt oddly empty. Ryuji then whispered something to Futaba, and she took off too, leaving Akira alone with the first friend he'd made in Tokyo. The black-haired boy remained silent as the delinquent took a seat by his side, ready for another rebuke.

"I get why you did it." Ryuji stated bluntly with no preamble.

Akira raised his brows, caught off-guard. "Pardon?"

"Sure, it was a really stupid idea, and I'm still pretty bummed out you didn't tell any of us what you were planning, but I get why you did it." He sighed, sweeping a hand through his hair. "Makoto and Ann don't understand - they've never been powerless before. At least not when it comes to this sort of stuff, anyway, and Futaba doesn't give a damn about spiritual power at all. Meanwhile, I… I know what it's like bein' in your shoes."

"Oh." Akira couldn't meet his friend's eyes. If he had felt bad before, he now felt awful. He should have known Ryuji would understand him – the boy's relative lack of spiritual power was a sore spot for him, and yet, Akira had been so consumed with his own troubles, he'd barely given him a second thought. "… You're not still feeling left out, are you?"

"Nah." Ryuji shrugged. "I'd love to be some uber-strong Shinigami warrior, but it's obvious that ain't happening. I guess… I'm trying to look at things like they're a relay, not a sprint. Even the weakest team member still contributes, you know?"

Akira gave him a wan smile. "I don't think you're a weak link by any means."

Sure, Ryuji didn't possess the same Reiryoku levels as the others, but his relentless optimism and drive was one of the cornerstones of the Phantoms.

"Aw, thanks, bro. You're gonna make me blush." The blond's lips curled up into a lopsided grin.

After a moment of peaceful silence, Akira spoke again. "I'm sorry for not telling you. That was a dick move on my behalf." He confessed. "I'm not sorry about approaching Wakaba, though."

"Yeah, I figured. I think we all have, actually." Ryuji scratched the back of his neck. "I'm pretty sure that's why the girls are so pissed."

Akira frowned. "Do you think Ann will ever forgive me?"

"Oh, sure." Ryuji shrugged. "She's kinda like me – gets angry easily, but she gets over it just as quickly. Makoto is pretty sensible too – she probably knows you had to do this if you wanted to come with us, even if she doesn't like it. They'll probably calm down by dinner."

A wave of relief ran through Akira, and he gave his friend's shoulder a gentle shove. "Look at you, Mister Wise Guy." He joked. "Thanks, though. I really needed to hear that."

"Hey, no worries! What else are best buddies for?"

… Best buddies, huh? Warmth blossomed in Akira's chest. Yeah, I like the sound of that.

…..

True to Ryuji's word, Ann approached Akira just before dinner and gave him a hug before whispering an apology in his ear. The meal was still a bit stiff, unfortunately. Makoto was clearly unhappy with him, even if she wasn't openly hostile. Meanwhile, Sae had asked if he was alright, surprisingly sincere, and upon receiving a 'yes', decided to spend the rest of the meal glowering at Wakaba. The psientist seemed to take it in stride, though Akira's stomach still twisted a little bit. Sure, Sae had never liked her to begin with, but Wakaba had been on civil terms with the rest of the Phantoms. Now though, even if they weren't as obviously pissed off as Sae, there was a wariness between her and the others that hadn't existed before. Hell, even Futaba was occasionally giving her mother a perturbed side-eye.

As soon as the last few plates were polished off, Urahara cleared his throat and tapped the side of his sake jug with the clean end of his chopsticks. The remaining bubbles of conversation quickly died off. "Now that we're all fed and watered, I would like to move on to our next activity this evening – a fun family task that I'm sure will bring a smile to everyone's face!"

"Can I go home now?" Ishida drawled.

Shadows draped over Urahara's eyes as his lips curled in amusement. "Well, if you don't mind missing out on the results of your and Kurusu-kun's brainstorming, sure! Come on, now, no need to look so shocked." Urahara laughed as everyone suddenly snapped to attention, flapping his fan. "You didn't think I'd ignore your questions, did you?" The question seemed to be rhetorical, and Urahara turned to face his friend. "Tessai, if you will?"

With a nod, the man left the room, only to return with an old film projector, the likes of which Akira hadn't seen since elementary school. Dimming the lights, Tessai readied the first slide. A white screen appeared on the wall, showing a city map. The place had an odd, circular layout, and there were so many roads spiderwebbing across the city, Akira felt dizzy just looking at them. There were a few labels – most of them numbers, but an empty expanse in the centre had the words Sōkyoku Hill scrawled above it in messy handwriting.

"It's a century out of date – not that means much to the Soul Society – but this is a rough map of the Seireitei, the home of the Shinigami." Urahara explained. "Now, I won't be giving you a copy of this – quite frankly, you'd be better served navigating via landmarks or intuition - but there are some areas I'd like to highlight."

Taking out his fan, the man tapped the perimeter of the Seireitei at each cardinal point. "If you want to get into the Seireitei, you'll have to pass through one of the Seirei Gates. If my calculations are correct, you'll enter the Soul Society near the White Road Gate in the west."

"How well guarded are they?" Ishida rubbed his chin.

"Shinigami patrol the perimeter occasionally, and it's likely Captain Kuchiki has warned them to stay alert." Urahara answered. "Each gate is also protected by a gatekeeper – they're not particularly powerful, but engaging with them is a great way of getting the attention of Shinigami who are."

For someone who'd loudly proclaimed they weren't a Phantom, Sae certainly had the mind for it. "Are there any supply shipments we might be able to hide in? Sneaking into the city without capturing any attention seems like the safest plan."

"Why don't we just walk in?" Akira ventured. "If we act like we're meant to be there, there's a good chance they won't blink an eye." After all, they'd be expecting one lone Shinigami and maybe a single companion, not a whole flock of them.

Urahara shrugged. "That's something you'll have to figure out when you're there. Next up is the Senzaikyū." He pointed to a building near the centre of the map. "This is where Kuchiki Rukia will be held. You won't be able to miss it – just head to the cliff in the middle of the Seireitei."

Yoruichi took over. "It's made up of Sekkiseki – a type of stone that nullifies Reiryoku. There'll be no using your powers once inside, so you'll need to have the entrance secured before you rescue Rukia."

Akira frowned. That sounded… troubling. He doubted he'd be able to lock-pick his way out of that one. Perhaps we could knock out a guard, and pretend we're transporting the prisoner or something? Do Shinigami even do that?

He resolved to ask the older Shinigami later, as Urahara was already moving on. "Now, you're probably wondering what all the numbers are – have you heard of the Gotei 13?"

The word was familiar – he'd heard it mentioned a couple of times before. Still, that was a different matter than knowing what it truly was.

Urahara took their silence as a sign to continue. "It's a military organisation nearly every Shinigami works for. It's split into thirteen different Divisions, hence the name. While the ultimate goal of every Division is to protect the Seireitei and maintain the balance of souls, some Divisions have specific specialties. The 2nd are black ops, the 4th are healers, the 11th focuses on close combat, and the 12th is the home of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute." The man furrowed his brow, something complex flashing over his expression. "It's probably for the best your steer clear of all those Divisions sans the 4th. Next slide, Tessai?"

With a rumbling click, the map of the Seireitei vanished, replaced by a list of names. Upon further examination, it was a bit… well, dodgy.

Urahara's Guide to the Gotei 13

1st Division – Yamamoto Shigekuni Genryūsai, Sasakibe Chōjirō

2nd Division – Soifon, Ōmaeda Something

3rd Division – Ichimaru Gin, Emo Boy no.2

4th Division – Unohana Retsu, Tall Woman

5th Division – Sosuke Aizen, Unknown

6th Division – Kuchiki Byakuya, Abarai Renji

7th Division – Helmet Dude, Iba Tetsuzaemon

8th Division – Kyōraku Shunsui, Some Hot Glasses Lady

9th Division – Kaname Tōsen, Emo Boy

10th Division – Hitsugaya Tōshirō (probably), Matsumoto Rangiku (probably)

11th Division – Kenpachi Zaraki, Kusajishi Yachiru

12th Division – Kurotsuchi Mayuri, Kurotsuchi Nemu

13th Division – Ukitake Jūshirō, Unknown

Futaba was the first to voice what everyone was thinking. "Your list fucking sucks."

It was truly a testament to just how shockingly bad it was that nobody bothered to correct her language. Futaba was right – the list did fucking suck.

"Blame my source." Urahara waved a hand dismissively.

"Is this also a century out of date?" Sae drawled, examining her nails idly.

The shopkeeper fluttered his fan, smirking. "Only twenty years, my dear Niijima-san! By Shinigami standards, a blink of an eye!"

That was probably true judging by Rukia's everything, but it did little to reassure Akira.

Thankfully, a human-shaped Yoruichi was there to steer things back on track. "Even though some Divisions have different focuses, they share a common ranking system. Each squad has numerous unranked Shinigami - they won't be any threat to you - and twenty seated officers. Ranks one and two are known as Captains and Lieutenants respectively."

Akira's eyes flicked back to the list, Yoruichi's words granting him an extra slice of clarity – the people listed must be the Captains and Lieutenants. He found his eyes settling on Kuchiki Byakuya, a familiar anger kindling in his chest. Akira had never thought of himself as a particularly vengeful person, but he couldn't help but feel a flash of venomous spite at the thought of Rukia's vile brother.

We'll tear down the walls of his hallowed halls and leave him to weep in the mud.

If anyone had noticed his Reiatsu bubble, dark and burning, they did not comment.

"What rank would you say we're at?" Makoto pursed her lips, eyes glued to the list.

Yoruichi's answer made Akira blink in surprise. "Approximately Fifth Seat. You should be able to take on anyone weaker than that in one-on-one combat."

Ryuji lit up. "Dude, for real?" Almost immediately, however, his expression was gutted with a frown. "Wait, that doesn't make any sense – we've barely been doin' this for three months."

Amusement glittered in Yoruichi's eyes. "Fun fact – nearly all Shinigami patrol the World of the Living in pairs, because the average Shinigami cannot take down a Hollow alone."

Surprised tingled down Akira's spine. He hadn't had any trouble fighting Hollows for ages now, unless there was some other fuckery going on. Hell, every member of the Phantoms sans Futaba had taken out multiple Hollows in a day when Ishida pulled his Hollow bait stunt.

"The fact that you've manifested even a flicker of Reiatsu while still living means that you have more potential than over ninety per cent of the Shinigami population." Wakaba spoke up for the first time in a while, voice smooth.

"It also helps that you're still all technically alive – mortal souls develop at a rapid pace compared to departed ones." Urahara mused, rubbing his chin. "Kuchiki-chan's tutoring probably also helped – she would have received arduous training in the art of the Shinigami given her heritage, and while she claimed to be unranked, I believed that might have been an attempt to lay low."

Akira digested his words. He hadn't seen much of Rukia in combat when she still had her powers, but if she hadn't had to save his and Ryuji's ugly mugs, she probably would have had a clear advantage over the Hollow that attacked them that day. Guilt twinged in his belly – she really would have been fine if it wasn't for him.

"Hold on a minute." Futaba wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't make any sense. Akira was on par with Abarai – in fact, he won! What's the deal with that?"

"When a Captain or Lieutenant enters the World of the Living, their Reiryoku is sealed down to a fifth of its strength." Urahara explained. "While that doesn't dampen their instincts or skill, Abarai-kun's raw power was a fraction of what it normally would be."

Goosebumps raised on the back of Akira's arms, his prior vengefulness towards Kuchiki Byakuya fading. He'd taken out Akira before he could even blink, and he wasn't even at full strength?

Much to his surprise, Urahara's grey eyes slid in his direction. "Of course, that doesn't mean Kurusu-kun couldn't beat a Lieutenant, under certain circumstances. Did you notice anything in particular when you fought Abarai?"

Akira mulled things over. "… He underestimated me." His memories drifted back to the horror on the Lieutenant's face as Akira almost detonated a Shakkahō in his eye. "If he'd gone all-out from the start, I never would have won." Abarai's greatest weakness had been his ego, and Akira had exploited it with ease.

"Exactly." The shopkeeper nodded. "Shinigami are arrogant. Even some of the Captains will underestimate you because you are Ryoka - intruders to the Seireitei. And that will make them sloppy. There is another advantage you have over them, too." Urahara's expression turned sappy as he slowly spread his arms. "Teamwork."

Yoruichi shook her head. "I hate to say it, but Kisuke is right. Only unranked Shinigami explicitly train to fight in tandem, and most ranked Shinigami would find the aid of their so-called companions insulting."

"But… we always fight together." Ann looked truly puzzled. "Why would they not do that? It doesn't make any sense."

"Like I said, Shinigami are arrogant." Urahara shrugged. "Admittedly, the full strength of a Captain's Reiatsu would immediately knock out any lower-ranking Shinigami in their proximity, so there's a grain of logic behind this attitude. To cut to the point, if you fight smartly, you might be able to take down a Lieutenant." His expression grew serious. "That does not mean any of you should take on a Captain, however. All of them will beat most of you in a fight, no matter what tricks you try to pull."

Tension filled the cluttered dining room, and Akira's dinner sat heavy in his stomach at yet another reminder of how truly dangerous this latest heist of theirs was.

Light glinted off Urahara's eyes. "At the same time… that doesn't mean they will fight you. Of course, some of them will attack you without hesitation, but others might not engage unless you try to harm them directly, and some might even be able to be reasoned with. I've prepared some documents on each Captain, however, I would like to talk about several in particular."

The slide changed, cutting the list down to just a handful of names. Yamamoto Shigekuni Genryūsai, Unohana Retsu, Sosuke Aizen, Kyōraku Shunsui, Zaraki Kenpachi, and Ukitake Jūshirō.

"Yamamoto is the Captain Commander of the Gotei 13 – the strongest and oldest Shinigami in the Seireitei. If he decides to fight you, you will die!" Urahara announced cheerily. "However, that would require him to fight you in the first place, which he won't, as he's got better things to do in his life than worry about a handful of pesky Ryoka."

Ishida audibly groaned at the older man's antics, and none of the other Phantoms looked all too impressed at his bait and switch.

"Unohana-san is a senior Captain, and probably even more terrifying than Yamamoto. Luckily for us, she's a healer and tends to avoid combat unless the Captain Commander specifically tells her otherwise. Which he won't. If you see her, bow politely and go the other way." Urahara's flippancy faded, a subtle frown crossing his face as he moved on. For a split second, Tessai stiffened and Yoruichi's eyes narrowed. If Akira hadn't been paying attention, he never would have noticed it. "Aizen… unlike the others, he isn't a senior Captain, but he has an exceptionally nasty illusory Zanpakutō. Once caught in its snare, you're fucked. Run on sight, or if that's not possible, close your eyes if it looks like he's going to release his Shikai."

Intrigue stirred in Akira's chest. Ann and Abarai's Shikais were powerful, but were ultimately normal weapons. Meanwhile, even if he didn't know the true nature of Tasogare no Dorobō's powers yet, it was clear that they cut the mind instead of the body. In fact… the White-Masked Killer's Zanpakutō works like that too, doesn't it? It didn't shoot spikes or crackle with lightning, but drove Hollows mad. Something uncomfortable settled in his stomach. While the White-Masked Killer had shown an odd interest in him, Akira had been happy to dismiss it as him simply being a nutcase. When he compared Abarai and Ann, however, the similarities between their personalities and their Zanpakutōs were obvious.

Akira had noticed Urahara's lack of honorifics when referring to this Aizen guy, and he had a hunch it wasn't a sign of friendship. Given their blades were both weapons that harmed the mind, did that mean at their core, he and this Aizen person were alike? Did that mean that he had something deeply and intrinsically in common with the White-Masked Killer, too? The frizzy-haired teen shuddered, suddenly feeling cold.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed Urahara's next synopsis. "Kyōraku-san is another senior Captain, however, I believe it may be possible to reason with him if only because of another name on my list. Ukitake Jūshirō – fellow senior Captain, his best friend, and more importantly, Kuchiki-chan's commanding officer."

The atmosphere in the room shifted, and Ryuji's eyes widened. "Wait, so this dude is Rukia's boss?"

Urahara's eyes sparkled. "Essentially, yes. Ukitake-san is known for being a father to his men – while he would attempt to exhaust all legal avenues first, I believe in a worst-case scenario, he wouldn't be above lending you aid if he believed you truly stood a chance at rescuing Kuchiki-chan."

Akira exchanged an excited glance with the rest of his friends. This was good news, indeed – potential help from the inside would make this a hell of a lot easier.

Ryuji bristled with excitement. "So, does this mean that this Zaraki guy is gonna help us too?"

Urahara let out a barking laugh. "Oh, heavens no. The Kenpachi title is granted to the strongest member of the 11th, and can only be earned by killing their predecessor. He'll pursue you throughout the Seireitei and try his hardest to murder you the second you enter it. Luckily, he's a bit of an idiot, so it probably won't be too hard to avoid him. Have fun!"

Yeah, of course he had to end things on a note like that. Akira groaned.

"Now, before we move on, there was another reason I brought up those names." Urahara's eyes settled on Sae. "They're the Captains that will beat you, irrespective of what fancy tricks you pull. So, be careful not to get too confident, okay?"

Sae looked mildly disgruntled, but nodded. It was then that Akira realised with a jolt that Kuchiki Byakuya hadn't been included in his latest analysis. Does that mean Sae might actually be able to win against him? Futaba had told him she'd fended him off, but that was different than being able to beat him in a straight fight, especially considering his limiter. That wasn't the only thing the teen had noticed, however. Urahara had mentioned six out of thirteen names, which mean Byakuya was in the middle of the pack, at best. The man had trounced Akira with only a fifth of his power, and he wasn't even that strong by Captain standards.

Akira really hoped the stealthy approach worked, otherwise, they'd be fucked.

…..

They discussed the Shinigami, the Gotei 13 and the Seireitei until the wee hours of the morning. By the time they'd finished, Ryuji's brains felt like they'd been replaced by cotton wool, and judging by Ann's furrowed brow, she probably felt much the same way. Unfortunately, the rest of the Phantoms were kind of nerds, but even they seemed exhausted as the night came to an end. Thankfully, as he woke up the next morning, Ryuji's head had cleared. A quick breakfast later, and he was back in the training grounds with the rest of the would-be infiltrators. Today, the groups were slightly different – Sae dragged Ishida off alone to focus on his Reishi absorption, while Makoto was left to work solo with Yoruichi. The latter had promised to teach her a little Hakuda trick the Shinigami wouldn't see coming, and Ryuji didn't like the glimmer in her eyes at all. Meanwhile, Ryuji's group had a new addition in the form of Akira.

Urahara started them off with Zanjutsu practice, again, and it immediately became clear that the black-haired teen was leaps and bounds ahead of Ryuji and Ann. He swung his blade with ease, not following the katas Urahara had taught the others but doing something new – he even occasionally swapped his sword between hands, just to keep his opponent off-guard. As they moved on to sparring, Akira battled Urahara first and put up one hell of a showing, even if the shopkeeper won in the end.

"A flexible style can be an advantage, but it can also be exploited – remember your grip." Urahara critiqued.

Akira gave the older man a lazy salute before they swapped sparring partners. As Ryuji swung his Zanpakutō down at Akira, his heart skipped a beat as his friend buckled under his blow. Maybe he could actually do this, after all! Alas, his optimism was short-lived – barely a minute passed before Akira parried his strike and whacked Ryuji in the stomach with the pommel of his blade, knocking him to the ground.

"Uuuurgh." The blond groaned, winded. "You totally kicked my ass. When the hell did you get so damn quick?"

Akira offered him a hand. "I have been doing this for several months, y'know. You just need to work on your reflexes a bit – you've got plenty of power behind your swings."

Ryuji grinned. "Round two?"

He didn't end up winning against Akira, but it was alright – with each spar, Ryuji felt himself get just a little bit quicker. After a couple of hours, Urahara gave them a break and moved on to the next activity – shunpo. Ryuji had been taught the theory behind the technique the other day, but this was the first time he'd tried it properly. While Ann managed to disappear in a flicker well before he did, after half a dozen failed steps, Ryuji flared his Reiatsu, attention solely focused on his goal. This time, when he stepped forwards the world blurred, and he was standing exactly where he'd wanted to go. A beaming grin crossed the blond's face – fucking finally! With each flash of shunpo he took, Ryuji's earlier misgivings died down as his excitement began to grow. While he'd probably always enjoy proper running more, darting between one place and another in the blink of an eye was pretty exhilarating too.

"How about a little race?" Urahara suggested, eyes beaming with mirth. "It'd be good practice for later – I'd like to start integrating shunpo into our spars starting tomorrow."

The two boys grinned, exchanging a glance while Ann affectionately shook her head. In the end, Akira won, but it was a far tighter match than what Ryuji was expecting. While the black-haired boy was still quicker, with a jolt, Ryuji realised he was covering more ground with each step - he'd pass him before much longer. Unfortunately, as Ryuji reached the last section of their improvised course his energy began to flag, and Akira scored the lead.

"Excellent technique, Sakamoto-kun." Urahara calmly noted, as Ann finally caught up to them. "You'll need to be careful though, as you don't have Kurusu-kun's Reiryoku reserves."

I need to approach this like a sprint, not a marathon. Got it.

Afterards, everyone reunited for a brief picnic lunch. Ishida didn't have anything interesting to report, but Makoto had traded her tank top for a backless black shirt for some reason – she wasn't even Ryuji's type, but he had to admit she looked as hot as hell. Sae was fundamentally unhappy with this latest development, but much to Makoto's clear surprise, Ann rather firmly told the prosecutor that Makoto could wear whatever the hell she wanted too. Dread pooled in Ryuji's stomach, fundamentally certain the girls were about to get into a fistfight. Much to his surprise, however, the blonde's harshness actually worked – Sae blushed, stuttered out an apology, and promptly shut up. You go, Ann! Ryuji internally cheered.

"Yoruichi said it was a necessary part of the technique she's teaching me." Makoto replied apologetically, taking some pity on her sister.

Sae's expression clearly said and Yoruichi is completely and utterly full of shit.

The cat-like woman grinned. "She's right, you know. Clothes are a hindrance to power."

After they'd finished their meal, the group split again, but this time, Makoto joined them and Urahara was replaced by Tessai. Ryuji always had a hunch he would be exceptionally bad at Kidō, and was proven correct that afternoon. The poor man had been tasked with teaching them a long-distance communication spell, and the entire process was a nightmare from start to end. The incantations were so archaic and nonsensical, they went in one ear and out of the other, and to make things worse, for this spell, you needed to paint yourself too. That wasn't even getting into the way they needed to modulate their Reiatsu precisely, or it wouldn't work – Ryuji didn't even know what modulate meant!

Ann, of course, had gotten it almost immediately, making her perk up a bit after her struggles with Zanjutsu and shunpo earlier. Makoto memorised the incantation frighteningly fast, but her lack of experience with this type of spellcasting made itself apparent – whenever she tried talking to them with it her voice came out as a whisper or a scream, assuming the spell didn't just regurgitate a screechy static. While Akira had a bit of trouble with the incantation and a lot of trouble with the body painting, in the end, he managed to cast it without a hitch.

By the time the session ended, Ryuji was the only one who'd failed to make any progress whatsoever. As Urahara returned and Makoto left, she shot him a sympathetic smile over her shoulder - she hadn't quite gotten it yet too. Ryuji attempted to return the gesture, but it did little to kill the kindling anger burning within him. At least Ann had the saving grace of being the undisputed Kidō master – Ryuji had been second best for the entire day.

Any hope of the day getting better was dashed when Urahara announced their next activity. "Now, folks, we'll sparring again, this time, with your Shikais. Sakamoto-kun, focus on your meditation."

Ann's eyes sparkled, as jubilant as Ryuji was despairing. Oddly enough though, Akira's brow was furrowed in the way it only did when something was bothering him.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" He frowned.

"You need to learn how to fight with your Shikai, Kurusu-kun. Mere instinct will only get you so far."

"I know, but we don't even know what it does, beyond fuck with people's minds." Akira shot the blonde an apologetic look. "That's not something I really want to use on a friend, especially with the year Ann's been having."

A look of indignation flashed across her face before she stilled, and the fight left her shoulders. "I suppose that's fair."

An idea suddenly entered Ryuji's mind. "I know! Why don't you try it on me?" At Akira's shocked expression, Ryuji continued. "I've gone through some shit, sure, but I think I'm mostly over it. Plus, even if it does mess me up, it's not like I'm doing anything important."

Akira still didn't look quite convinced, but Urahara interjected before he could speak. "It's not a bad idea – it's better to explore your Shikai's powers in a controlled environment as opposed to the midst of a battle. You wouldn't want to trigger an unanticipated reaction, after all."

"Very well." Akira took in a deep breath, before releasing his Zanpakutō. In one gauntlet he held a knife, and in the other a grappling hook. A long black chain connected them, looping around his black and trailing against the floor. The teen might have looked like some dark supervillain if it wasn't for his dorky glasses. "You ready?"

Ryuji nodded, squaring his shoulders. Akira struck like a viper – one second, he was still, the next, Ryuji's chest rippled as a spectral knife pierced it. He hadn't even had the time to blink. Not that Ryuji had much time to think about that, as he was suddenly eight again, quivering in a closet as he listened to the crack of his dad's hand on his mum's face. As soon as the memory appeared, it vanished – he was now charging at a smirking Kamoshida and feeling so goddamn furious his vision was painted red. Flickers of images and emotions assaulted Ryuji – him cussing out a man who clipped his shoulder, his father cursing at his mother, the disgruntlement he felt when he saw Takeishi boasting about his new sneakers, his father going on a tirade about how Ryuji was sucking him dry – the awful parallels kept on coming and coming and they just didn't stop –

You might cover it up with dumb jokes and sunny smiles, but under the surface, you're angry all the time. It burns and bubbles within you until you snap. You're RIGHT to think of your father whenever you look in the mirror.

Ryuji wheezed as the assault of memories faded, and he staggered, almost dropping to his knees. "Dude, what the fuck."

Akira paled, obviously horrified. "Ryuji, I-I'm sorry…"

Immediately, the blond felt guilty and cut his buddy off with a raised hand. "Whoa, I'm alright – I just didn't think it'd be that intense."

Ann's previous annoyance that Akira refused to use his Zanpakutō on her had faded like a dying light, and she merely looked relieved that she wasn't the one in Akira's crosshairs. "Did you figure out what it does?"

For a second, Ryuji thought Akira might not have noticed her question, until he suddenly replied. "It unlocks the seals on people's hearts. All the awful feelings and traits they try to repress… Tasogare no Dorobō opens their eyes and drags them right to the surface."

That… was probably why it had made Ryuji think of his dad. He hadn't really dwelled on the topic lately – consumed with worrying about his jealousy of his friends instead. Still, Ryuji realised that was a problem and was trying his best to fix it. His temper though? He shuddered – just thinking about it gave him the heebie-jeebies.

Akira stared at his dagger contemplatively. "I think that's why it took down Abarai so easily – I think he and Rukia were friends, once. Subconsciously, he must have known he was being a dick – my Shikai just made it so he couldn't deny it anymore."

"Wow, that's metal." Ryuji gawped, startling a sudden laugh out of his friend. "What? It's true! It's, like, what's the word… karma! Giving people their just deserts!"

For the first time since the topic of his Zanpakutō was broached, Akira's shoulders began to relax and a soft grin crossed the teen's face. Beaming, Ryuji returned the gesture. If his Shikai was half as cool, it would be worth the wait.

…..

Unfortunately, by the time their final day of training arrived, Ryuji had made no progress with his Zanpakutō whatsoever. While the others sparred he was stuck meditating. It would have been one thing if he knew he was moving in the right direction, but if anything it was the opposite – each visit, his inner world seemed stormier and stormier, obscuring his Zanpakutō spirit entirely. It didn't help that Ryuji's sleep schedule had gone to shit too – when the lights came off and the other boys slipped asleep, the haunting words of Akira's Zanpakutō plagued him, keeping him up into the late hours of the night.

That afternoon, Urahara didn't even bother telling him to meditate, and instead, he joined in the no holds barred training matches. While Ryuji didn't fare too badly when they battled against each other in teams, the second they moved on to individual duels it was blatantly clear he was a mile behind everyone else. Ann, who Ryuji had managed to frequently beat in their no-Shikai spars, kicked his ass in seconds – she ensnared his foot in her burning whip, tripped him over, and immediately immobilised him with a spell.

While he didn't fight Ishida one-on-one (quite frankly, Ryuji knew it would be a waste of both of their time), he watched him battle Ann while Akira healed his foot. Sae's Reishi absorption lessons must have worked, as when Ann hurtled a monstrous fireball at the Quincy, he managed to drain enough energy from it that it was a mere flicker by the time it hit his chest. Once he'd recovered, it was his turn to face Makoto. Ryuji's fight against the brunette lasted a bit longer, if only because she was avoiding wasting her Gintō and therefore had no way to immobilise him. The extended reach his Zanpakutō gave him helped, but in the end, she was far too fast and brutal for him to keep up with.

The less said about his spar with Akira, the better.

Before he even knew it the day was gone, and the Phantoms were sitting down for their final dinner in the Shōten. While relations between the Phantoms and the Shōten crew had been a bit frosty following Akira's near-Hollowfication, the camaraderie had returned over the next couple of days. There was no evidence of that tonight, however – Ryuji could almost taste the tension that buzzed in the air. Urahara was the only person who seemed unphased, nattering on to a nigh-silent Tessai, while Yoruichi and Wakaba were whispering to each other harshly, any trace of their usual good humour gone. Akira and Makoto were pouring over Urahara's dossier together, as if they could somehow wring more information out of the documents if they just glared at them a bit more. On the other side of the room, Ann, Futaba, and Sae were engaged in a lighthearted but painfully forced conversation, and listening to it almost made Ryuji feel as if he was getting his teeth pulled out. Ishida, meanwhile, was brooding in a corner, automatically making him the most sensible of the Phantoms by far.

The night's dinner turned to ash in his mouth. Ryuji had the sudden realisation if he stayed there any longer, he would explode.

"Thanks for the meal." He nodded to Tessai, and leaving his bowl half-full, promptly left.

Energy itched under his skin, and while his muscles were already sore, he needed to go on a run. Sliding down the ladder into the training grounds, Ryuji's eyes caught on the wooden rack where they returned their Zanpakutōs at the end of the day. He hesitated. He hadn't really intended on trying to communicate with the damned thing yet again, and nor was he sure if he really wanted to. In the end, he shrugged and grabbed his sword. He wouldn't intentionally try to contact his Zanpakutō spirit, but hey, if something happened, it happened. As Ryuji circled the training grounds in a light sprint (his leg had barely bothered him in his spiritual form, which alone made this almost worth it), the maelstrom of thoughts constricting him began to untangle.

He was worried about Rukia and his friends – that he'd be too weak to save them if things went wrong. He was worried about himself – he wasn't so scared of death anymore now that he knew what would happen afterwards, but he knew if he fell, it'd tear his mum apart.

Ryuji's stomach flipped, and before he knew it, he'd come to a stop. Hold on. Since when the hell have I been the sort of person who gets all stuck in their head? Ryuji sheathed his Zanpakutō and slapped his cheeks, internally yelling at himself to get his shit together. He wasn't some grand schemer – he did things because they felt right. He was gonna go after Rukia regardless, so why bother fretting over all the small details? If things went to hell, he'd just have to do what he always did – trust his friends to have his back, and improvise.

Taking in a deep breath, Ryuji felt a weight lift off his shoulders and blinked as he suddenly found himself staring at a wooden deck. It took him half a second to realise where he was, as for the first time it wasn't raining in his inner world. The ship still swayed beneath him (if significantly less than before), and the waves still crashed and lightning clapped in the sky, but for once, he could actually see. Realisation hit Ryuji with a jolt – he'd actually be able to talk to his Zanpakutō spirit now!

Running to the helm of the ship, Ryuji felt a jolt of elation as saw the spirit's back. The Zanpakutō was standing by the ship's wheel, and his tattered black cape flowed in the wind. Ryuji's guess that he'd been wearing a pirate's hat was correct, but now though, without the rain clouding his eyes, Ryuji could also see that he was wearing a bright blue shirt underneath his coat, and one of his hands was a golden canon. Epic!

When the spirit spoke, its voice was a deep rumble. "You made me wait quite a while."

Ryuji stilled, mouth dropping into a frown. "Uh, sorry?"

The spirit turned around, and with a jolt, Ryuji realised its head was just a skull. Huh, Futaba would get a kick out of that.

If the Zanpakutō had any idea of the trajectory of Ryuji's thoughts, it didn't make it known. "Finally, you managed to banish the deluge of doubt that rained down on you."

Ryuji scrunched his nose. "I did?"

"Naturally." The skull's position shifted, and somehow, Ryuji could tell it was smiling. "Remember what Futaba told you about Cognitive Psience?"

"Nope."

"Hah! An honest answer. Your inner world is a reflection of your mind – the state of this place is determined by your feelings."

Ryuji nodded slowly, mulling the spirit's words over. "So, you're saying it was bucketing down earlier because I was worried that things might go to shit?" An idea flashed into his mind, and Ryuji couldn't help but grin. "Does that mean now that I've gotten rid of the rain, I've earnt your name?"

The pirate captain's eyes settled over the ocean as thunder boomed in the distance. "… No."

The wind was knocked out of the blond's sails immediately. "Hold on – why not?!" He scowled.

"You might have tamed the rain, but you have done nothing about the lightning."

Almost on cue, electricity sparked through the air.

Ryuji shoved his hands in his pockets and scuffed the floor. "What's that supposed to represent?"

"Your anger."

It was as if he'd been punched in the stomach. The blond wheezed, hair on the back of his neck prickling. While there was no condemnation in the spirit's words, they were cutting nonetheless. Because he had been angry, hadn't he? Just like Akira's Zanpakutō said I was.

The world around him began to fade, and as the swaying ship morphed back into the dusty training grounds, his Zanpakutō's voice echoed in his ears. "Control the lightning, and you will earn my name."

…..

As Ryuji returned to reality, he wasn't exactly sure what he was feeling. Resentment? Resignment? Vague disappointment, perhaps? Deep down inside, a part of him had probably hoped he'd get some last-minute revelation the second he'd decided to take his sword with him on his run. Well, Ryuji guessed he'd gotten that, but it still wasn't enough.

"Y'know, when Ann said you had to mediate, I thought it would be some Buddhist kinda stuff, not standing around looking gormless."

"Gwah!" Ryuji yelped, whirling around. "Bloody hell, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Failed a perception check, I see. I thought you were meant to have super spirit senses now?" Futaba rubbed her chin, eyes narrowed in contemplation. She must have come down to the training grounds while he was talking to his sword. "Not a great start for a stealth mission, but then again, you're really more the sort of guy to proc aggro rather than avoid it."

"Eh, Akira and Ann are better at that sensing crap – I'm pretty sure I only notice Reiatsu when it's cranked to a hundred." Ryuji shrugged dismissively. His expression turned wistful. "I wish you could come with us – god knows I'm gonna miss having you on comms."

Futaba frowned, and for a second, Ryuji felt a pang of worry. After her initial breakdown, she seemed to have taken being benched in stride, but Ryuji knew from experience that didn't mean it didn't still hurt.

"I suppose it's a learning lesson." The hacker mused. "I'm just gonna have to improve my tech for next time!"

"… You think we're gonna invade the afterlife multiple times?" Ryuji replied, spooked.

She waved a hand dismissively. "Well, even if we don't, there's plenty of stuff going down here. We've still got that evil Hollow-employing conspiracy to deal with, don't we? Not to mention the whole framed-for-someone's-suicide thing."

Ryuji groaned, running a hand through his hair. Urgh, he'd totally forgotten about that. On the bright side, at least if they made it back from Soul Society alive, they might finally be strong enough to stand a chance against the White-Masked Killer.

A flicker of curiosity sparked in his chest. "So whatcha doin' here, anyway?"

"I wanted to give you this, duh." Futaba rolled her eyes and reached into the duffle bag she had strapped over her shoulder. From it, she withdrew a familiar, white-plated bat, and Ryuji felt his eyes grow wide. "I know you've been having trouble with that Shikai thing, so I thought you might want this, just in case." She explained. "I've given it a buff – it's stronger, has more charge, and I've included a camouflage function! Ta-da!"

She pressed her thumb down on a button at the bat's base, and Ryuji gawped as the weapon flickered, before disappearing from sight. It wasn't quite perfect – you could vaguely make out the bat's shape by the contours in the light – but it would certainly stop people from noticing it with a cursory glance.

"Now, be careful." Futaba warned. "Stealth mode will drain the batteries, so if you wanna keep it hidden, you'll only be able to get a few strikes in when the time comes to use it. Still, it's better than nothing, right?"

Reaching forward, he ignored Futaba's startled squawk as he enveloped her in a hug. "Thanks, Alibaba."

"… Heh. We're a team, you and I! Of course I wasn't going to forget about my Skull!"

…..

The duo parted ways once they re-entered the Shōten, but unfortunately for Futaba, Ryuji couldn't help but give her an affectionate noogie. Squawking, the hacker ducked away and desperately patted down her ruffled hair as she returned to the dining room. Urgh – why did male bonding always have to involve some form of ridiculous physical japery? I suppose this is what I get from hanging out with a jock. Futaba sighed in mock dismay, but deep down inside, all she felt was warm.

"Who's got you looking so dour?"

Glancing to the side, she laid eyes on her mother, who was regarding her with a familiar, indulgent smile. Instead of joy, however, Futaba felt something squirm uncomfortably in her guts. She'd planned to have two Important Conversations that night, and this was the one she hadn't looking forward to.

Being with her mother again was like a beautiful dream. Once Futaba's initial delight had worn off, however, she had been left with a deep, nagging question. It was easy to dismiss it in the daylight – after all, Futaba was genuinely happy to be here, and it was fascinating picking her mother's brains – but it was hard to wear rose-tinted glasses in the dead of the night.

"Oh, just Ryuji being a bonehead. It's nice having friends again, but man, they can be touchy-feely at times." Futaba could be a bit of a cuddle bug when the mood struck her, but physical contact was something she much preferred happening on her own terms.

Wakaba's smile fell off her face. "Again? What about Kana-chan?"

"She moved away around the time you died." Futaba shrugged, not meeting her eyes. Something you'd have known if you'd actually been there for me.

"Futaba…" Her mother sighed, and something snapped inside her.

"Why… why didn't you come back?" A wave of self-loathing hit the hacker at how pathetic her voice sounded, but it was smothered by a flare of anger that stirred within her.

No. There's nothing wrong with the way I'm feeling. I'm ALLOWED to be upset.

Clenching her fists, she continued. "Kana left, Sojiro wasn't allowed to see me, all these men in suits kept on harassing me about your research, a-a-and I had to live with Uncle Youji of all people! Uncle Youji! D-do you have any idea how awful it was? I still get nightmares about him!" As Futaba continued her tirade, Wakaba paled, but she wasn't done yet. "I would have got it if you didn't have a Gigai, but you do! For two whole years, you could have come back and told us you were okay, but you didn't!" By now, Futaba's vision was blurred with tears. "Did you ever think about what I was going through? What Sojiro was going through?! You're meant to be his best friend!"

Hiccoughing, she wiped the liquid from her eyes. Wakaba made no motion to comfort her, much to her relief – if her mother touched her right now, Futaba would have screamed.

"There are… many reasons why I didn't contact either of you." The psientist rubbed the bridge of her nose, and for the first time, it struck Futaba how old her mother looked. "On a logistical level, it would have been a nightmare – I was declared legally dead, after all." She made an amused huff. "Sojiro would have had a heart attack if he saw me walking around. He always was a bit of a sceptic."

"Okay, fine." Futaba acquiesced. "I get why you didn't try to see Sojiro, but what about me? You could have emailed me, or, just, anything."

Wakaba frowned, brows furrowed into a grim line. "I didn't want to put you in danger. Those men who took my research? They were likely goons of whoever employs the White-Masked Killer. If they caught wind of the fact that I was, well, not alive, but on this earth…" The woman shuddered. "I'm the only one with all the knowledge required to piece together who they are. If they thought harming, or god forbid, killing you would get me to back off, they'd do it without hesitation."

Futaba froze. "You know who's the mastermind behind the Vanishing Incidents?"

"Not exactly – I've got a shortlist of potential suspects, but I can't narrow down the true ringleader without dropping my cover. Kisuke has offered to snoop, but given they have access to my research, they'll have spiritual sensing technology, a Captain-class Hollow and anti-spirit weaponry on their side. If they spotted him, the ensuing fight would alert the Gotei 13 in seconds." Her mother shrugged. "It's why I made my deal with Niijima-san – she's in a position to dig up dirt on them while remaining beneath suspicion."

Futaba mulled over her mother's words, her anger slowly getting edged out by her ever-present curiosity. If Sae really could wrap things up the legal way, that would be fantastic. It would mean the Phantoms wouldn't have to get into a death match with the White-Masked Killer, for one, and secondly, the prosecutor might even be able to clear their name!

"But neither of those are the real reasons I didn't try to re-enter your life." Wakaba's blunt statement brought Futaba back to reality, and a hint of something sorrowful lingered in the woman's eyes. "Once the conspiracy is brought to justice, I'm leaving to the Soul Society."

Futaba felt as if a bucket of ice water had just been dumped over her. "Pardon?" She croaked.

Wakaba stared into the distance. "I'm dead, Futaba. I'm not even a Shinigami in any way that counts. I don't belong to this world – I feel the other side calling to me, even in this Gigai. I didn't want to enter your life just to leave it again. To do so after you'd already mourned me? It would have been more than cruel."

Whatever lingering anger the hacker held towards her mother burst like a bubble, and with a sob, she threw herself into the woman's arms. "I-I'm sorry!" Futaba wailed. "It's just… it's not fair!"

"I know, honey, I know." Wakaba held her, voice soothing. "Life often isn't. But you have Sojiro and your friends. You'll be fine."

"I know. I know I will." Futaba hiccoughed. "But I wanted you there as well."

Wakaba didn't reply – she didn't need to, as she stroked Futaba's hair. The hacker had no idea how long they stood there in the evening glow, mother and daughter caught in a fervent embrace, but the moment seemed to last both an eternity and yet no time at all.

…..

While the air had been heavy with nervous tension last night, today, it buzzed in anticipation. Akira looked down at the fake Shihakushō in his hands. Ishida had done an excellent job – as he slipped into the uniform and glanced at himself in the mirror, he could barely see any difference between it and the real deal.

Everyone had gathered in the training grounds, including Futaba, Wakaba, and Tessai, who were there to see them off. It was bizarre seeing the infiltration team all wearing Shihakushō - Ryuji was slipping his Zanpakutō's scabbard into his obi sash, and Ann twirled a finger in her hair like she always did when lost in thought. The two modern city kids with their bright blonde hair couldn't have looked more out of place in the dreary traditional garb if they tried. Ishida, meanwhile, looked fundamentally disgusted to be wearing black at all, and much to Akira's curiosity, the Niijima siblings were wearing an odd variant of the uniform with an exposed back, not unlike the top Yoruichi had forced Makoto into the other day.

"It's a style of Shihakushō sometimes worn in the 2nd." Akira glanced down to see Yoruichi weaving through his legs – she'd returned to her cat form overnight. Leaning closer, she gave him a wink. "Plus, I thought Sae's reaction would be funny."

Akira snorted. They'd worked on their cover stories the other day – the Niijimas and Ishida would say they were from the 2nd, Ann and himself the 4th, and Ryuji the 11th. His attention was drawn away from the cat, however, when Urahara's voice echoed through the cavern. He snapped his fingers, and four wooden pillars shot out into the air, forming a large, rectangular portal.

"This is a Senkaimon – a gate that leads to the Soul Society. As you're not proper Shinigami, you'll have to pass through the Dangai – the space between the worlds. If you fail to cross it in four minutes, you'll be stuck there forever." The seriousness suddenly faded from his voice. "Given you all know shunpo, that should be a breeze! Be careful not to touch the walls though – they're designed to eat intruders."

Yoruichi padded forward until she stood by Urahara's side. "If anyone is having any doubts, now is your last chance to back out. Hesitation and fear will dull your blade, and lead you to your death. Are you all ready to strive forward with no regret in your hearts?"

A chorus of 'yesses' left the Phantoms' mouths, and Yoruichi's golden eyes glinted approvingly. "Very well. Let's make our final farewells."

"Wait, our…? Are you planning to come with us?" Makoto quirked a brow.

A hint of mirth entered Yoruichi's voice. "You didn't think we'd let you face these trials alone, did you? Besides, the Gotei 13 won't be able to detect me in this form – it's perfect for our mission."

Futaba took a tentative step forward, lip wobbling. "Stay safe, okay! You all need to come back, or, or I'll doxx you!"

Akira grinned and gave her a lazy salute. "Aye aye!"

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "Dork. Oh! If any of you guys want one of my handy spirit guns, now's your last chance!"

Oh! Akira had forgotten about those. Again. Why the hell did we ever think it was a good idea to give her firearms in the first place!?

"Please say no." Wakaba groaned, rubbing her temple.

Sae opened her mouth, clearly about to say 'we're good', before Ishida interrupted her. "Actually…"

"Oh, no." Ann's brows rose to the ceiling. "I thought you were going to make good life choices from now on!"

Ishida arched a brow. "Let's just say I get into a combat situation where I need to end someone's life. My hand-to-hand combat is acceptable, but I lack the strength to inflict lethal damage. Would you rather I destroy their soul?"

That promptly killed any objections, and Futaba let out an impressed whistle before handing over a white-plated pistol to the Quincy. Carefully, Ishida stashed in his uniform.

This time, it was Wakaba who stepped forward. "Like Futaba said, stay safe – rely on each other, and you'll get through this." The woman smiled. "I look forward to seeing you again in a few weeks."

She received a chorus of goodbyes. Once that was done, Tessai and Urahara knelt down at the corner of the portal, placing their hands against the ground. Urahara was a split second away from activating the Senkaimon, when Ryuji suddenly gasped.

"… What is it, Sakamoto-kun?" The faintest hint of irritation lingered in the shopkeeper's voice.

"Ishida, Yoruichi and Sae-san need codenames!" The blond blurted out. "We use them when doing Phantom business so the fuzz can't identify us if they pick up our radio waves!"

"Oooh, yeah!" Ann beamed. "Akira is Joker, Ryuji is Skull, I'm Panther, Rukia is Snow, Futaba is Alibaba, and Makoto is Queen!"

Sae looked mildly pained at the reminder of her sister's vigilantism, and Ishida rolled his eyes at the childishness of it all.

"It's not a bad idea." Yoruichi mused. "Kidō communications can be hijacked."

"Seriously?" Ishida looked despairing.

"Queen, huh?" Sae mused, as a vivid blush spread across her sister's face. "I'll be Ace, then. Might as well keep up with the playing card motif."

Akira and Makoto both blinked, equally surprised that Sae was so casually onboard with the idea. Perhaps Sae had a hidden interest in spy movies, in the same vein that Makoto was a closet Yakuza film fan?

Yoruichi pondered it for a few seconds, before coming to a decision. "Hmm... let's go with Thunder."

All eyes settled on Ishida, who startled at being the centre of attention. "Uh, Archer?"

"… Dude, the whole point of codenames is that they're not immediately obvious." Ryuji winced, before he suddenly perked up. "I know! You can be Ginger!"

Ann immediately cackled with laughter, and Akira couldn't help but snort. Holy hell, he'd completely forgotten about that particular conversation. Ishida whined and protested, but in the end, was stuck with the unfortunate moniker.

Urahara eventually cleared his throat, putting an end to the bantering. "Now, as much as I enjoy a good bit of tomfoolery, we're on a time crunch here."

Akira felt a flush of guilt. "Right, sorry."

"No worries. Tessai, on three?"

The moustachioed man nodded, and a spark of anxiety flickered in Akira's chest as they counted down. He licked his dry lips. It was finally happening – they were going to invade the Soul Society.

Just wait, Rukia – we're coming!

A brilliant light burst out of the Senkaimon, and Urahara shouted. "Go, now!"

Without a moment's hesitation, the Phantoms dashed into the portal, and the World of the Living faded away behind them.

Extremely minor lore change: I'm removing the need for the Senkaimon to covert normal bio-matter into Reishi. Still, on the whole, it's not a good idea to spend an extended period of time out of the World of the Living if you're an ordinary human. (Also, Ishida's codename is a reference to chapter 7 of Death and the Trickster!)