In truth, Ichigo had no idea that there was someone else in his home who could see ghosts, aside from himself—and, of course, Rukia, who was a Shinigami.
Kurosaki Isshin left his son's room with a dejected expression. However, the moment he closed the door, his dejection instantly turned into worry. Given that female Shinigami's level of perception, she shouldn't have been able to tell he was acting. Still, he didn't know if letting Ichigo come into contact with a Shinigami was a good thing or a bad thing.
When he married Masaki, Isshin had planned to forget his identity as a Shinigami. Of course, he hadn't really had a choice in the matter back then, considering all his Shinigami powers had been used to save her.
Mixed in with his love for his wife were feelings of gratitude and a desire for atonement. Masaki was a Quincy—the very kind of being that he, as a Shinigami, and his peers had personally hunted down and exterminated over two hundred years ago.
In the fifteen years since Ichigo's birth, Isshin had almost completely forgotten his identity as a Shinigami, even though his former surname—Shiba—was one of the most noble names in the Seireitei.
Except for six years ago—no, it had been almost seven years now. When Masaki was killed by a Hollow that had invaded the World of the Living while protecting a young Ichigo. Except for that moment, when Isshin had felt an overwhelming, agonizing hatred for the fact that his powers hadn't yet recovered, forcing him to accept the reality of his beloved wife becoming a cold corpse.
If possible, he didn't want himself or his family to get dragged into trouble ever again. But looking at the situation now, that seemed highly unlikely.
As Ichigo continued to grow, his attraction to wandering souls was gradually increasing. And those ugly bastards in Hueco Mundo had very sharp noses.
Kurosaki Isshin frowned slightly. The Shinigami inside was still young; she probably wouldn't connect Ichigo to the Quincy. A faint fluctuation of Reiatsu lingered outside the house. He figured it wouldn't be long before an uninvited guest paid them a visit.
Even if the Shinigami inside could handle the enemy, she probably didn't have the ability to guarantee the absolute safety of everyone here, right? Isshin thought about it. It was still inconvenient for him to make a move. He would just do what he usually did: lure it somewhere else and let the kid inside deal with it.
Just as he reached the first floor, the phone in the entryway suddenly rang. Isshin picked it up on his way past, and a slightly playful voice came through the receiver. "Hello—! Is this Mr. Isshin over there? Hello?!"
"It's me. But it's this late, so don't tell me you've fallen ill, Urahara."
...
Still in his room on the second floor, Ichigo hadn't noticed his dad's unusual behavior at all. Right now, his mind was entirely occupied with everything Rukia had just told him about herself.
Going by her words, a Shinigami was supposed to be some kind of god, right? Coming all the way from a place called Soul Society, sparing no effort, just to exorcise evil spirits here?
What an incredibly believable answer. Yeah, right!
"Who are you trying to fool, idiot!" Ichigo forcefully flipped the small round table in front of him. He felt like his intelligence was being insulted!
Rukia was startled by Ichigo's sudden outburst. A second ago, he had been nodding earnestly, so why was he suddenly acting like he didn't believe her? No, wait. He probably hadn't believed her from the start.
"You can see ghosts, yet you don't believe in Shinigami?!" Rukia wore a look of utter confusion. Ichigo, on the other hand, didn't think there was anything wrong with his logic. He had seen plenty of ghosts, but he had never seen a god.
"I've lived this long and I've never seen a Shinigami. I only believe in what I can see with my own two eyes."
*'If she said she was the daughter of a feudal lord, I might have believed her, but I didn't expect something this ridiculous. She's probably just some chuunibyou girl who spent all day fantasizing, and kept her delusions even after death, right?'*
Having concocted a reasonable and brief backstory for her in his mind, Ichigo lost all interest in continuing to play along with her nonsense. He pressed his right hand against the back of Rukia's head, intending to escort this dreaming brat out of his room.
"My dad can't see you, so I believe you're not human. But stop playing these stupid ghost tricks on me. Got it, brat?"
*'Brat?'* Rukia's mouth twitched slightly. He actually dared to smack her head? What a lack of respect for his elders! She had to teach him a lesson!!
"[Bakudō #1・Sai]!"
*'She really is a girl hopelessly addicted to the occult,'* Ichigo thought, filled with exasperation as he watched Rukia point two fingers at him while spouting incomprehensible nonsense.
Just as he was wondering if he should play along and pretend to be shot, a pair of invisible hands suddenly pressed down on his shoulders and forcefully wrenched them back.
At the same time, his arms bent involuntarily, his hands crossing behind his back. He was bound—by thin air?
Thoroughly annoyed, Rukia kicked Ichigo right in the back of the knee. Even after he fell to his knees in front of her, she still didn't feel satisfied, so she stomped her foot down on his shoulder. Ichigo collapsed, landing on his side on the floor.
"Heh heh, can't move, can you!" Her merciless taunting finally dissipated some of the displeasure in her heart. Of course, the real reason was probably that the kid beneath her foot was no longer acting so arrogant.
"You did this? What the hell is going on?!"
Ichigo finally connected the current unnatural phenomenon with Rukia's earlier actions. Maybe this girl wasn't just dreaming after all?
"This is Kidō, a high-level spell that only Shinigami can use!" Rukia explained, unable to resist stomping on Ichigo one more time. Some lessons required physical pain to truly stick in the recipient's mind—this was currently the most popular educational philosophy at the Shin'ō Academy.
"Brat? I might look like this, but in terms of age, I'm more than ten times older than you." Naturally, verbal intimidation was also a must. "A little nobody like you ought to be killed, but unfortunately, you aren't on the list of execution targets. So, I can only seal your movements. Remember to say thank you, brat—"
To Ichigo's ears, Rukia's speech sounded like far more than just a taunt. Paired with her fierce expression, was she absolutely sure this wasn't a threat?
No, the devil was always in the details. Watching her right hand quietly rest on the katana at her waist, Ichigo wondered if she was actually going to draw it. And if she really did draw her sword, the person she intended to cut seemed pretty obvious...
Things were developing toward the worst foreseeable outcome. Time seemed to move incredibly slowly—so slowly that he could see every minute shift in her fingers and skin, the slight deformation of her muscles as they pressed against the hilt.
Yet time also seemed to move incredibly fast. Ichigo swore he hadn't even blinked, but somehow, the blade was already pointed right in front of his face. Its cold gleam reflected on his skin, and without even touching it, he could imagine just how sharp it was.
*'Go repent in Hell!'* Although the girl didn't speak, her ruthless, piercing glare genuinely reminded him of a grim reaper draped in a black cloak, wielding a scythe to harvest souls.
*'She's just scaring me, right? I'm not on that execution list... but you never know. There's a definite connection between the law and breaking it, but maybe it isn't that absolute...'*
"Calm down, you have to calm down," he muttered.
"I believe you! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" The sword seemed to twitch. It moved! Ichigo felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest. "W-Wait, hold on!"
"Hey!!!!"
Unfortunately, the blade ultimately fell...