Author's Note: over a dozen typos and prose issues in CH23 were fixed. This story is now backed up on AO3 in case this site goes down or otherwise; my other stories will be backed up there as well once I get around to it eventually.

Sundays were usually for slacking off.

No homework, no chores, no bitter disgusting vegetables. A day for Keigo Asano and no one else, not even cute Shinigami girls of questionable age who claimed they were over a hundred years old. Yeah right. He had heard that one before in his favorite animated TV shows. But this wasn't a TV show. This was all real.

Hiyori was real.

Yoruichi the talking black cat was real.

Walking down the street with a bag of chips, Keigo glanced into bushes at ankle. A rustle of leaves could just be the wind at work, and it was very windy today. "Yoruichi, are you still there?" She was invisible. A magic Kido spell.

"I am. Are you listening?"

"I was thinking about Hiyori. Where is she, by the way?"

"Do you really want to know? You may not like the answer."

A sweet-and-sour chip crunched in his mouth. "Sure."

"We have a sex schedule for the guys. It's Hiyori's turn today."

Those words were a kick to the gonads. Coughing, he was glad to have swallowed already. "I'm also a guy!"

"Are you a Shinigami yet?"

"No, but—"

"Then you don't get to indulge in the pleasures of the afterlife." Yoruichi meowed as an old car chugged past. "Be thankful that you even know, boy. It is a privilege."

His shoulders bent inward. He played up his sulking. "Then why did you tell us, Yoruichi? It's like torture, you are one mean cat. I'm going to die a virgin like Ichigo did."

"Have you already forgotten?"

"About what?"

"Ichigo and his family are in danger! They were all taken to the Seireitei Thursday night!"

Keigo threw the empty packet into a passing bin. In a quiet voice, he said, "I didn't forget. I mean you could have told us that without telling us about the sexual stuff. You could've brought Orihime and Tatsuki to a separate meeting, but you chose to do it the way you did. So really, I guess we're already indulging, aren't we?"

"Then stop complaining. You could've had your way with Tatsuki, but you were too afraid go through with it."

"I wasn't afraid," he said in a higher-pitched voice.

Yoruichi's invisible paws landed on his shoulder. "I sensed it in your spiritual pressure. You were oh so afraid to get in trouble for… what's the words? Sexual assault?"

He diverted the subject down an adjacent lane: "You say I have spiritual pressure?"

"Everyone does, because everyone has spirit energy. As I've said, you and your friends are all above the critical threshold. I do wonder…."

"Wonder what?" Keigo stopped at an intersection, pressed a button on the traffic light pole. Downtown traffic at Sunday afternoon was heavy. These apartment blocks were run-down. Concrete was covered in graffiti, moss and vines, and stains that Keigo didn't want to look at more than once. A teenage boy talking himself wasn't an unusual sight; he could be talking into a mic.

He asked again, "What are you wondering?" The pedestrian crossing went off with a buzz. He walked briskly. "Yoruichi?" He poked a paw on his left shoulder.

Yoruichi didn't speak again for an entire block, until they came by an olden-style run-down building. It was cosily tucked in-between apartments, and passerbyers wouldn't look twice. Nothing about this building from the early nineteen-hundreds told Keigo that it was a pharmacy, which it apparently was supposed to be. No signage. All the windows were either covered with wooden boards or tinted black.

The front sliding door opened by itself as Keigo approached. Inside, shelves were stocked full of typical medicine brands. Sunlight lit up bottles of acne face wash, which he used, before the door closed behind him.

A blond man, who had on a round green and white hat, hid behind a paper fan. "Oh my. My oh my. I didn't think I would ever see this with my own two eyes."

Keigo scratched his ear. "You must be Kisuke Urahara. Right?"

"I am indeed," Kisuke said in a kind of clownish voice, but the undertone was grave.

Multicolored light shimmered, Yoruichi coming out of invisibility. "Your friends are waiting downstairs."

"They're already here?" Keigo blurted.

"You're late," Yoruichi said. "Did you not get the text I sent you yesterday?"

Keigo took out his cell phone from his track pants back pocket. The plastic flip-phone was a cheap model, but even cheapest phone had cost him over a month of allowance money. He pressed a button on the side. The screen didn't turn on. Out of battery.

Oopsie doospie!

A cat's sigh was raspy and close to a hiss. "There's a ladder in the closet. Climb down. Watch your grip."

"Got it." When Keigo looked inside the closet, he saw a wooden ladder and a pitch black floor. His shoe passed through the floor. Another magic barrier, same as that warehouse's concrete wall. He tightly gripped and climbed downward. First his knees passed through, followed by his torso, neck, nose, and—

He was climbing down into rocky barrens. The ceiling was a blue sky, lacking a sun, but everything was lit up as if sunlight shone from all directions. Cold air smelled of ozone. There were no shadows; it messed with his depth perception. Only the ladder gave him perspective on how high up he was. A fall right now would break his neck, his palms tingling and gripping the ladder more tightly.

Easy steps. Easy steps.

After an eternity of climbing, his sneakers scuffed onto dusty ground. Easy climb.

"About time," Yoruichi said from behind.

Lightning frayed his nerves as he jumped. "Yoruichi!"

"Yes?"

"I didn't see you come down."

"And?"

"And…." Nothing to say, he rubbed tendons in his neck, looked around, and spotted a head of amber-brown hair.

Orihime. She was wearing jeans and a white jumper.

Keigo ran over, nearly tripped on a rock, waving. "Hey guys! Sorry I'm late!"

Tatsuki, holding Mizuiro's hand, looked at Keigo with a confused scowl. Her denim miniskirt didn't really match her similar white jumper. "I called you ten times yesterday. I thought you lost interest." Interest in this whole Shinigami thing.

Interest in her.

His smile was apologetic. His voice was goofy: "I forgot to charge my phone."

"Thought so," Chad said, sitting on a flat rock.

"Figures." Tatsuki massaged her brow.

He added seriously, "You said not to call though."

"Are you really this thick?"

"Sometimes," Mizuiro quipped.

Orihime nodded.

"No," Keigo said, "I mean… I mean I wasn't sure if you still wanted to do this Shinigami thing."

Tatsuki lightly palmed her hip. "Wow, you really are thick. I'm doing this Shinigami thing because Ichigo's family needs our help. I'm not doing it because I have a dying need to be your rape slave."

Keigo's gaze drifted away in an awkward silence. Friday evening, he had turned into some mindless lecherous fiend, that, if Ichigo had seen, Keigo would be recovering in hospital for a broken nose. This was the type of guy that Ichigo protected girls from, and Keigo was now that guy. The guilt was worse than food poison passing through his bowels.

Out of nowhere, Orihime hugged him from behind, her breasts against his shoulder blades. Her warmth poured into him. Her cinnamon fragrance was nice.

Keigo mumbled, "Orihime, what are you doing?"

"Hiyori told me when Shinigami boys get sad, our spirit energy is great for cheering them up."

It was working—either her spirit energy or usual bubbly self. "I don't know if it works through all that clothing. Want to get naked again?"

Orihime's giggles were hypnotic. "Later. Remember to charge your phone."

Keigo was about to ask if she was still a virgin when Kisuke appeared hugging a tall wooden crate. A taller man, darker-skinned, with oblong glasses and a funky mustache stood behind the Shinigami pharmacist. The two grown men looked over the group. Their eyes lingered on the two teenage girls longer than the boys. A protective, possessive feeling made Keigo put his arm around Orihime's waist. The gender imbalance was suddenly extremely apparent.

Was Soul Society like this? Far more Shinigami boys than girls?

That would massively suck.

"That's Tessai," Yoruichi said. "He specializes in Kido. If anything… unexpected happens here, he'll step in. Of course, Kisuke is also something of a Kido specialis—"

"That's enough about me," Kisuke said and smacked the crate with his palm. The front panel fell forward. Inside was a string-tied bundle of Katanas, each wrapped in clear plastic. "How lucky. There are precisely five of you here for these five specially-modified Asauchi that have been sitting in stock."

"How are they modified?" Tatsuki asked.

"I'm glad that you asked." Kisuke clicked fingers. "As Yoruichi explained, as long as your Chain of Fate is intact, you cannot become Shinigami. These special Asauchi will take care of that the instant you touch their blades. Even better, imprinting on these is a million times quicker than normal, which could take years worth of time—time which we don't have."

"How long do we have?" Chad asked. "And what will happen when time runs out?"

"I wish I could tell you," Kisuke said darkly, "I'm not a prophet." Suddenly jovial, his index finger pointed upward. "But if I had to guess, I would say two months. Maybe three."

A lot more time than Keigo had thought. School was out in a couple weeks. Term break was three weeks. He may not have to suspiciously skip school after all. His parents and sister would be worried…. He still hadn't told them about any of this, and he wasn't allowed to. This was going to be tough.

Kisuke apparently could read minds: "After this, your lives will be irrevocably changed. Although I can modify your Human bodies so that you can return to your lives here, you will no longer be Human, meaning you will no longer age at a normal Human rate. When the time comes, and it will come within the next couple decades, you will have no choice but to destroy your Human bodies and move on to Soul Society. Do you each understand what you are sacrificing?"

Chad nodded.

Tatsuki nodded.

Then Orihime.

Mizuiro asked in a contemplative tone, "Can't you just use Kido or something to make us look older?" Good idea.

Kisuke's chin tucked. "I was speaking optimistically for your sake. Realistically, once this is all resolved, none of us, including myself, will be allowed to remain in the living world. Worst case scenario, you five will be executed for unnaturally obtaining Shinigami powers."

"How likely is that? Execution," Keigo said, feeling cold and numb inside.

"Extremely unlikely," Kisuke said with fair confidence. "Any more questions?"

Chad stood. "Then why mention execution at all? Is it because Ichigo and his family are facing execution?"

"It is possible," Kisuke quietly said.

"What happens when a soul is executed?" Chad slowly asked.

Yoruichi answered, "It is sent to the reincarnation cycle."

Chad's jaw hardened. "Keigo, Mizuiro, I understand if you can't go through with this, but as for me, I am ready."

Chad stepped up to the crate, grabbed the first Asauchi, and tore off its plastic wrapper. Without hesitation, without looking back, he pulled off the scabbard, the blade ringing, and placed two fingers on a wavy line between dark and light steel. The reaction was instantaneous; spiritual pressure descended on the area, ten pounds of pressure. His knees bent as his soul separated from his body, his Chain of Fate nowhere to be seen. His living world body fell backward. His soul fell forward, the Asauchi clinking on the ground.

"Chad," Tatsuki urgently said. "Chad!"

"He's in his inner world," Yoruichi whispered. "Look at the Asauchi. It's changing."

The Katana lengthened a few inches, the scabbard as well. Its oval guard enlarged into a diamond. Gray silk on its handle darkened to black.

Keigo fully understood what just happened—Chad died.

Yet at the same time Chad would be fine. Existing. Alive but in a different way. The whole concept of life and death was suddenly a lot less meaningful. Inevitable death lost its daunting magnitude. This wasn't death—a transition to another state of living. It really was a lot like going on vacation—a permanent vacation—to a foreign country. And that country was Soul Society.

With a merry gait, Orihime walked up to the crate and took an Asauchi.

Tatsuki followed, took one as well. "Ready, Orihime?"

"I'm ready."

The girls were going to do it. They were going to leave behind their Human lives, potentially forever.

This could be the last time Keigo would see them. The most stupid decision of his entire life of fifteen years was driven by teenage hormonal desire—he rushed up and snatched an Asauchi. The plastic covering tore against his fingernails. The scabbard was ice-cold. One inch unsheathed, his thumb touched the blade.

Eye-watering pain bit into his chest.

He was falling.

The barren landscape darkened.

Shaggy carpet met his face. It smelled of lavender. Pushing up onto his feet, he found himself in a large bedroom. A king-sized bed was extra fancy with posts reaching the ceiling. In the middle of the room was a grand piano. Next to the piano, against the wall, a fish tank was bubbling, but no fish were in it. Opposite to the tank, curtains hid a panoramic window.

He pulled the curtains.

Waves lapped on a beach. It was a sunny day outside, clear blue sky, calm ocean waters.

Light knocks on the door startled him. "Can I come in?" The voice was female. Slightly accented too, a mix of perhaps Italian and French. Very alluring. "Hello? Are you there?" Knock, knock. "Hmm, looks like no one is there. Oh well."

"Wait, I'm here!" Keigo ran across the room, unlocked the golden doorknob, and pulled.

Before him stood a gorgeous ruby-haired girl with mesmerizing teal-green eyes. Her face and body could only be described as an eleven-out-of-ten supermodel. Slim figure. Perky breasts. Nice curves. Tantalising thigh gap. Her white bikini had extravagant straps that crossed over her belly. Gorgeous. Just gorgeous!

She was perfect.

He could cry.

Tears of joy brimmed as he hugged her. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met! I'm already falling in love! If this is a dream, don't wake me up! God, don't wake me up!"

Even her chuckles were irresistible. "Sorry to say, but you've had a terrible head injury. You'll be waking up in the hospital in three…."

"No!" he squeaked.

"Two…."

"No, stop counting! Let me cum inside you first!"

"One."

"No," he inhaled.

All was white. His heart shuddered. And he was back in the barren wasteland, gazing up at the fake blue sky. He could still smell her passionfruit fragrance, just for a fleeting moment. She was his. A mind-blowing supermodel. His personal Zanpakuto spirit.

He hadn't asked for her name.

Oh well.

He elbowed up, glanced around. His four friends were still in their inner worlds, nine bodies on the ground, one of which was his own. By his Human body, his Zanpakuto was ornate like a prop out of a theatre play. The circular guard was pure gold. Silvery-white silk wrapped the handle in intricate feathery patterns. The scabbard was ivory-white, as was the plain boring hilt.

His stupid decision turned out to be the best of his afterlife so far.

Author's Note: Keigo's Zanpakuto is not a water type, if you're wondering.

Review Responses:

- The fluffy moments are to show people (in the Seireitei at least) don't think there's anything wrong with their world. They quite like it that way.