Soul Society.
Yuhun Street, District 1 – Run'an.
Countless wandering souls moved along the streets, weaving through the modest bustle of daily life.
Compared to the distant, resource-scarce outskirts of Yuhun Street, Runlin'an—District 1—was by far the most affluent and orderly area. Though not perfect, the sense of structure here far exceeded that of the lower-numbered districts.
Perhaps due to its proximity to Seireitei, the spiritual core of the Soul Society, black-clad Shinigami could often be seen patrolling the streets. Their presence, their uniformity in dress, and the swords at their waists distinguished them immediately. These were not ordinary swords, but Zanpakutō—weapons forged for the sole purpose of purifying Hollows and guiding souls.
Whenever a Shinigami passed by, the wandering souls would instinctively straighten their posture and gaze at them with awe—these were beings who held both power and privilege.
Yet, at this very moment, those same noble guardians who swore to uphold balance and justice across the realms... were standing outside a ramen shop.
A ramen shop tucked in a corner of Runlin'an.
"The Captain's here again... eating noodles."
"Seriously? Does he really prefer these over the squad's cafeteria food?"
"Neglecting duties to eat ramen in Yuhun Street—if word gets out, we're all screwed. Other squads will think our captain's slacking off!"
"Shh! Keep your voice down unless you want to get punched again."
Two low-ranking Shinigami stood awkwardly outside the shop, whispering harshly under their breath. Despite their complaints, they didn't dare step inside. Instead, they kept peeking through the slightly ajar door, clearly dreading what—or who—awaited them.
From their expressions and exchanges, it was clear: whoever was inside was someone they feared and couldn't ignore.
"So what now?"
"We have to call the Captain. The squad's waiting for the meeting."
"Right... but I went in last time and got 'taught a lesson.' Your turn."
"Huh? You said I was just backup! If I knew I'd have to go in, I wouldn't have come!"
"Don't act innocent. If the vice-captain position of our Sixth Division weren't vacant, would you really be so 'helpful'?"
"Hmph. Don't pretend like you're not here for the same reason. We both want to butter up the Captain."
They bickered on like two sparring cats, neither willing to brave the ramen shop first.
Their dynamic was oddly reminiscent of Sentarō Kotsubaki and Kiyone Kotetsu, the infamous third seats of the Thirteenth Division. Allies, yet rivals—especially when it came to promotions.
Their voices grew louder, attracting the attention of curious residents nearby.
"What's going on?"
"Looks like a couple of Shinigami arguing."
Soon, a small crowd had formed, watching the strange spectacle of two supposedly elite warriors squabbling outside a ramen shop like kids.
Meanwhile, inside the store—
In theory, given its location in the safest part of Yuhun Street, the ramen shop should have been bustling with customers. It wasn't. Despite its well-kept interior, a spacious dining area, and neat bar counter, only one customer sat within.
She was a girl. Alone.
But not just any girl.
She sat confidently, legs crossed and swinging rhythmically. Her twin lilac ponytails swayed with her movements. Though beautiful, she exuded an aura of arrogance and danger—a rose with thorns.
Behind the counter, the young shop owner glared at her. Tall, lean, and handsome, he wore the look of someone barely holding back his irritation.
"If you want noodles, eat. If not, the door's on your left."
"And quit swinging your legs. I'm getting dizzy."
"Keep that up and I'll kick you out."
He spoke bluntly, ignoring the fact that this "customer" was clearly no ordinary soul.
If not for her identity, he'd have already yanked her ponytails and barked:
"I said stop shaking! Still shaking? Let's see how long that lasts!"
"Tch! Is that how you treat your customers?"
"Customer? Where? You think just walking in makes you a customer?"
"In my shop, if you don't buy or eat, you're not a customer."
The girl smirked and snapped back:
"You cheapskate! Where's your hospitality? A decent owner would at least serve water. I'm a captain of the Gotei 13!"
She struck a pose, hands on her hips.
"You should be honored I'm even sitting here! When word gets out that a captain enjoyed your ramen, you'll have more business than you can handle."
The young man didn't flinch.
"And? What do I care?"
Her fangs flashed as she narrowed her eyes.
"Damn you, Araki... someday I'll make you pay for this. I'll tease you until you beg for mercy~"
Her expression softened slightly—amused now.
"It's tough being this handsome," Araki sighed. "Attracts all the crazy ones."
If any soul outside had witnessed this, their jaws would've hit the floor.
Because this wasn't some random girl.
She was wearing a white haori—the symbol of a Gotei 13 captain. On its back, the character for Six (六) was stitched proudly.
Captain of the Sixth Division.
One of the thirteen most powerful and respected Shinigami in the Soul Society.
With a single swing of her Zanpakutō, she could erase this shop and the man inside it—and not a soul would question her.
"Who said I wasn't ordering? Gimme a tonkotsu ramen."
She finally gave in, smirking.
"Fifty kan," Araki replied flatly.
"Pay first, then order! No credit!"
The young man behind the ramen bar didn't flinch, even when the customer seated before him was none other than the captain of a Gotei 13 division. Instead, he calmly extended his hand, asking for payment upfront.
To him, money clearly ranked above all else.
"Fifty kan? You want fifty kan for a bowl of ramen? Why don't you just rob people instead?"
"That price is insane! You raised it again?!"
The female captain's eyes widened in disbelief.
"My dear Captain, I'm just a humble, law-abiding citizen. I don't rob people," Araki replied, his voice flat.
"My ramen's been fifty kan since you walked in."
"If you're not eating, you can leave. This place may be small, but we don't force anyone to eat."
"Oh—and your squad seems to be waiting to drag you back again. As a captain of the Gotei 13, you really shouldn't be bullying your subordinates."
The ramen chef—Araki—spoke to the woman with a tone that was far from respectful. Despite knowing her identity, he remained unmoved, even slightly irritated.
After all, ever since she started visiting his shop, the sight of a fearsome captain—likely from the brutal early era of the Gotei 13—had scared away all his other customers.
Still, Araki had no intention of letting the opportunity go to waste. She was his captive leek to harvest.
Rent wasn't cheap in this part of Rukongai. Someone had to pay for the lost business—and she was right here.
"I'll eat! Of course I'll eat…"
Grumbling, the captain placed fifty kan on the counter and shot a sharp glance at the 6th Division soldiers standing guard outside.
"Tch… Annoying pests. I only stepped out for a short break, and they're already desperate to pull me back."
"Thank you for your patronage."
Araki accepted the coins with no sign of emotion, then disappeared into the back and returned almost instantly with a steaming bowl of ramen.
The woman stared.
"That was fast…"
Even with her trained eyes, she hadn't been able to see how he'd cooked it.
"Wait a minute—I ordered tonkotsu ramen! This is clearly shio!"
She frowned, glaring at the thin, delicate slices of meat floating in clear broth.
And yet, she couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship—his knife skills were easily at captain level.
"Not eating?"
Araki reached out to remove the bowl.
"H-Hey! Who said I wasn't eating? I paid for that!"
She immediately pulled the bowl toward herself like a child guarding candy.
"Heh…"
Araki shook his head, watching her reaction.
Saying no, but eating like your life depends on it. Tsundere behavior is so outdated.
"Slurp~"
As she inhaled the noodles, the woman asked without looking up,
"Hey, Araki. Don't just waste your skills out here in Rukongai. Come join the Gotei 13. It's a shame for someone with your talent to stay hidden in Yuhun Street."
Her tone was unusually earnest.
She had extended this invitation dozens of times over the decades. Each time, he refused.
"Hmm."
This time, Araki didn't respond immediately.
"You're still refusing, huh?"
She sighed, already prepared for rejection.
"But I'll keep asking. One day, you'll say yes."
"…Gotei 13, right?"
"Alright. I'll go."
"…Eh?!"
"What… did you just say?"
The captain of the 6th Division—yes, it was Kuchiki Ginrei's predecessor—froze mid-bite and put her chopsticks down. Her eyes widened for the second time that day, the first being when she saw the inflated price of his ramen.
Araki, meanwhile, remained calm.
Because just moments ago, a system only he could hear had quietly issued a mission:
> [Mission Activated] – Join the Gotei 13 to unlock exclusive growth pathways.
Everything… was for strength.
The man known as Araki—
A ramen chef.
A mystery to Soul Society.
A time traveler from another world.