Higashi Shuuichi awoke.
Beneath him, soft goose-down bedding cradled his body—comforting, indulgent.
Gone was the hypermodern apartment that had become his purgatory; this room was quiet, different, and that alone told Shuuichi he'd returned.
Yet when he sank inward to sense the reishi flowing through him, a frown ghosted across his face. The Hollow powers he'd just gained—they were limited.
Barely enough to toggle freely between Shinigami and Hollowfication at will, but far from the level of someone like Tōsen Kaname in his later stages—no way he could invoke Resurrección yet.
In hindsight, it made sense.
That last trial in his inner world had only been a skirmish with one facet of the Hollow within—a single, isolated ability.
The Hollow's other talents—those that should be near-perfect mirrors of his own—hadn't even revealed themselves yet.
In short, Shuuichi hadn't conquered the Hollow completely.
He'd merely wrested partial control. A lease, not ownership.
Still… that was enough.
With no system or external cheats to fast-track mastery, every step—Sonído, the Hollow counterpart of Shunpo, or Cero, the destructive twin of Kido—would have to be learned through blood, time, and instinct.
No handouts. No shortcuts. Just the path.
Flooding him with too many new powers now might even hinder more than help.
And besides, that duel had ended in his victory—he'd found the Hollow's rule and broken it.
Next time they fought, there would be no secrets. Only domination.
Full control was now a matter of when, not if.
Grinning, Shuuichi reached up and touched his face.
The Hollow mask that once clung to him was now fully gone, vanished as his control stabilized.
"Shuuichi-kun, you're awake?!"
A voice like birdsong from the side—sweet, haunting, too familiar.
She had stayed with him every night in his inner realm.
"Sayako?"
The name came naturally. Intimate.
He'd called her that for hundreds of days now.
"Mm~"
At the door, Kabuto Masayako stood, a warm towel in hand, her eyes curving into bright crescent moons.
"You… why are you here?" Shuuichi asked, confused as she approached.
"Didn't you promise to help me awaken the power of Hell?"
"My body was too weak before, but thanks to you redirecting the energy flow into yourself… I'm much better now."
"So I thought maybe I could come and help you…"
Her voice trailed off; she looked down, fingers wringing the edge of her sleeve, eyes darting to him like a shy cat.
"You're not… mad, are you?"
"How could I be?"
She was too adorable—he chuckled and shook his head.
He didn't ask whether her presence might stir trouble with the Soul Society.
It didn't matter.
The Kabuto Clan, one of the Five Noble Houses, had long withdrawn from direct affairs. With their lineage reduced to a flickering candle, their continued status seemed like a facade, a courtesy maintained for the sake of protocol.
In truth, plenty in the Seireitei probably wished Masayako would disappear—or even pull a Yoruichi and openly defect.
It would make carving up what little power the Kabuto House had left much easier.
And how she found this place? That wasn't even a question.
Baishō Semimaru was the perfect compass.
Getting dressed, Shuuichi had just taken a step toward the door when Sayako returned—this time holding a plush figure that looked exactly like him.
Or rather, it was a portable Gigai, crafted by Urahara Kisuke.
"If you're going out, you should put this on," she said, cheeks blushing.
She was still a little pink from the unconscious teasing Shuuichi had given her, out of habits formed over hundreds of simulated days.
"This is…?"
Shuuichi's guard remained up. He wasn't on home turf.
"This Gigai was custom-made for you by Kisuke-kun. With it, you'll be visible in the human world, and your Reiatsu won't register on any of Soul Society's surveillance systems."
"It'll make your movements safer."
Shuuichi accepted it, though reluctantly.
"I can suppress my Reiatsu just fine. I won't leak a trace."
"Still, it's better this way," Sayako insisted gently. "You've been in the World of the Living enough to know—some people can see us, even in spirit form."
At that moment, a black cat leapt through the window.
No need to ask. It was obviously Shihōin Yoruichi.
"Oh, and congrats," she purred. "You're the second Shinigami to fully control your Hollowfication~"
Shuuichi blinked.
"Second?"
He didn't think taking nearly a year to gain even basic toggling ability was anything to brag about.
But that word—second—caught his attention.
Third or fourth wouldn't matter. That was just noise.
But second? That rank meant something.
It whispered to a man's pride.
"The first," Sayako chimed in, "was Kuna Mashiro, former vice-captain of the Ninth Division. She woke up half a year ago and mastered Hollowfication in three months. She can freely shift between Hollow and Shinigami now."
So she'd been here for a while too.
"Mashiro, huh…"
No surprise.
In canon, she was the fastest to adapt among the Visored. While others trained to extend their mask duration, she could hold hers for fifteen hours from the start.
If anyone was born for Hollowfication, it was her.
As Shuuichi donned the Gigai, he marveled at its craftsmanship.
This wasn't some crude shell—it felt seamless, like silk. A product of the same core tech that had once catapulted Kirio Hikifune into the Royal Guard.
If not for its inability to absorb reishi from the environment, he'd have forgotten it wasn't his real body.
Outside, the scenery was familiar.
A wide stone-paved street, much like when he'd first arrived here with Urahara.
Behind the house, a narrow river danced with darting fish.
And down below, bare-chested and unloading cargo from a cart, was Hōrin Tessai, the former Grand Kidō Chief.
"Tessai-dono's… working?"
Shuuichi frowned, peering from the second-story window.
"We're living in the real world now," Yoruichi muttered from his shoulder. "If we don't show our faces, people get suspicious."
"And all the furniture in your room?" Sayako added. "Paid for by Shūsuke-kun and Rangiku-san working side jobs."
"Well—mostly Shūsuke," Yoruichi snorted. "Rangiku couldn't hold a job for three days. Spent her paycheck on sake."
And speak of the devil—there he was.
Kisaragi Shūsuke, walking down the road, accompanied by a girl.
But the girl was not Matsumoto Rangiku.
Wrong figure—too petite.
Wrong face—short gray hair, flat chest… a bit like Soi Fon, actually.
"Miss Rimi, I already told you. I just happened to pass by. Saw those ronin harassing you, stepped in to help. That's it."
"I never expected you to offer yourself in gratitude. You don't have to follow me."
Shūsuke looked stressed, staring at the sweet-faced girl beside him.
"Mmhm~ I know, Shūsuke-kun. But I want to repay you. Let me cook, do laundry… even warm your bed if you like~"
She blushed, lowering her gaze shyly.
But Shūsuke wasn't getting it. All he felt was mounting dread—Nagazawa Rimi had completely derailed his plans today, and if he missed another quota, he'd lose pay again.
Still, as he glanced toward his home, his frustration vanished.
Standing on the balcony—it was him.
Lord Shuuichi was finally awake.
Abandoning Rimi on the spot, Shūsuke bolted into the house, took the stairs two at a time, and burst into the room.
"Shuuichi-sama! You're awake!!"
His joy couldn't be contained.
"Yeah," Shuuichi nodded. "Thanks for holding things down, Shūsuke."
He'd just heard from Sayako how hard the kid had worked. A little praise was the least he could offer.
"It was nothing! Just so glad you're back!"
Shūsuke beamed like a kid at Christmas.
To Shuuichi, he really was still a kid.
"Say… who was that girl with you?"
A subtle shift in Shuuichi's tone—detached, but sharp.
He'd seen something.
In the girl's eyes, as she'd been left behind.
A flicker of resentment. Danger.
"You mean… Nagazawa Rimi?"
Shūsuke explained everything—the ronin, the rescue, the borrowed clothes.
"So, to sum up—today you were supposed to collect debts for your trading company. On the way, you saw Rimi being harassed, intervened, gave her your clothes because hers were torn up… yeah?"
"Yes, sir."
"You didn't do anything wrong," Shuuichi said mildly. "Rescue the damsel, she falls for the hero. Classic."
Sayako giggled beside him.
Yoruichi raised an eyebrow. "What's so funny, Sayako-san?"
Flushed, Sayako stammered, "Ah, I was just remembering all the stories Shuuichi-kun told me… they always end this way. Girl in danger. Boy saves her. They fall in love and live happily ever after."
"Hmm~ So that's your type, huh?" Yoruichi shot Shuuichi a sly smile.
(Somehow, the black cat managed to look very smug.)
Shuuichi cleared his throat.
"Anyway… maybe we should go downstairs. Miss Rimi doesn't look like she's planning to leave. If she's that insistent… we writers ought to vet her for you, don't you think?"
Yoruichi leapt off his shoulder and onto Shūsuke's fluffy, semi-wavy head.
"Yes! Let's go meet your soon-to-be girlfriend~!"
"Wait, I really don't feel that way about her—"
"Relax, Shūsuke," Shuuichi cut him off. "We know. But having a random girl hanging around's not ideal. Especially here."
With that, he turned and descended the stairs, leaving no room for protest.