On the street near Kurosaki Clinic—
Ichigo raised his zanpakuto, eyes blazing with grief as he faced the Hollow that puppeteered his mother's image.
"You bastard… die!!!"
The Hollow shrieked, mask twisting as it tried to force Masaki's phantom to speak again and halt Ichigo's strike.
But then—it froze.
It couldn't control her anymore.
The spirit of the woman it devoured appeared beside Ichigo, her hands gently guiding his grip on the blade.
"Don't be afraid, Ichigo. Mama is always with you…"
SLASH!
The blade carved through.
The Hollow split apart.
And in the same instant—
BANG!
A streak of blue light pierced its back, obliterating it into motes of reishi.
Ichigo was lost in his mother's voice, never noticing.
…
On the roof of Kurosaki Clinic—
A tall man with silver hair, sharp blue eyes behind glasses, lowered his spirit bow. His gray suit barely shifted in the night breeze.
"You asked me to intervene," he said coldly, not looking back. "That already violates Soul Society's laws, doesn't it?"
Beside him, Kurosaki Isshin, clad in a black shihakusho, stared at the vanished Hollow with icy eyes.
"I know. But that Hollow had no right to purification. Its end had to be absolute."
Shinigami blades cleanse Hollows, returning them to the cycle of souls—an essential balance of the three worlds.
But a Quincy's arrow annihilated them completely.
The man scoffed. "At least you still remember Masaki." His gaze flicked briefly toward the direction Cole had left. "You should thank that boy. Without him, it might've taken you decades to track that creature down."
Isshin dipped his head. "I will repay him properly."
As the Quincy turned away, Isshin called softly, a faint smile crossing his face. "Thank you… Ryūken."
Ishida Ryūken gave only a dismissive snort, vanishing in a blur of reishi.
Isshin didn't take offense. Ryūken was one of the last remaining Quincies in the living world—his strength rivaled even Isshin's own, back when he was a Gotei 13 captain.
And more than that… Ryūken had once been Masaki's fiancé.
Until Isshin stole her away.
When Masaki later died to a Hollow, Ryūken's resentment burned eternal. For decades, they hadn't spoken.
Now, at least, fate had forced their paths to cross again.
…
Later, Isshin arrived at Urahara's shop.
Urahara fanned himself lightly. "Captain Kurosaki. This really is the first time you've sought me out."
"There's something I need you to handle."
"What sort of thing?" Kisuke's smile faltered, sensing trouble.
Isshin pointed toward the ruined streets. "Erase the humans' memories of that. All of it was caused by Cole."
Kisuke spread out his reiraku sense—and nearly choked.
Seven, eight streets reduced to rubble. Dozens of shattered homes. Thousands of massive blade-scars gouged into the earth.
"…"
…
At Orihime's house—
Rukia pressed her zanpakuto's hilt against her brother's forehead. White light burst forth.
Smiling softly, he waved farewell before his spirit dissolved into the glow, passing into the Rukongai.
"Cole-kun…"
Orihime collapsed against Cole's chest, tears flowing.
Cole stroked her hair gently. "It's alright. Even if he's gone to Soul Society, someday we'll meet again."
Rukia frowned, assuming it was only empty comfort. Once a soul crossed into Soul Society, reunion was impossible.
But Cole thought differently. When the time came to march into Soul Society itself… perhaps those siblings could see each other again.
Soon after, Orihime packed her things to move. Her cheeks burned red as she glanced at Cole carrying her luggage.
"Cole-kun… you already saved us, and now I'm troubling you again…"
"Don't be silly. We're classmates, aren't we?" he answered with a smile.
Her lips pressed together, a faint shadow in her eyes, but she nodded and followed.
Rukia tugged at Cole's sleeve, whispering sharply, "Don't tell me you're putting her in your room."
"Of course not."
"Liar. I've seen your room. One bed."
Cole blinked at her. "That was just a temporary stay at Kurosaki's. That's not my real home."
Rukia frowned. "Then what, your house hasn't fallen apart after years of neglect?"
Cole smirked. "Not exactly."
…
"Welcome home, Master!"
At the gates of a grand two-story mansion near the clinic, two maids in uniform bowed deeply.
Rukia froze, jaw dropping. "T-this… this is your house?"
Cole nodded casually. "Bought it five years ago."
He strode inside, pulling both girls along when they hesitated.
"But… you were lodging at Kurosaki's hospital," Rukia sputtered.
Orihime stammered, "C-Cole-kun, can I really… live here?"
"Of course," he reassured her.
"Then why…" Rukia's eyes narrowed. "Why stay with the Kurosakis at all?"
At that, a shadow crossed Cole's face. "Better not to ask."
In truth—night after night, Hollows had swarmed this mansion, drawn to his reiatsu. It had driven even his maids to despair. Only by hiding in Kurosaki's clinic had he found some measure of peace.
But Rukia and Orihime only saw his grief—and imagined a tale of tragedy and estrangement. Their gazes softened with sympathy.
Cole sighed. "You two are thinking something rude, aren't you…"
He led Orihime to a lavish bedroom, smiling. "This is yours. If anything isn't to your taste, tell the maids—they'll buy what you need."
Orihime spun in awe at the massive bed, the vanity, the wardrobe, the tall windows. "It's… it's perfect. I've never lived anywhere like this. Thank you, Cole-kun."
Rukia nodded approvingly at the room. Then, patting his shoulder, she added, "Since you've got space, set one up for me too. I'll be living here."
Cole blinked. "What about Ichigo?"
"Why would I live with him?" Rukia snapped.
......…
.........
(End of Chapter)
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