The atmosphere was thick, heavy with an unnatural stillness, like the world itself had held its breath. The area around them felt like a graveyard—a suffocating, mournful silence that enveloped the street where the battle had ended. A faint breeze moved through the air, but it was so gentle that it could barely be felt, as if even nature had decided to pause. The sounds of the city, usually buzzing with life, felt distant, muffled, as if a thick fog of sadness had fallen over everything.
Shinichi's body lay lifeless on the cracked asphalt, a casualty of the vicious fight with Shrieker. The harsh, rhythmic sound of Rukia's hands pressing against his chest to channel her healing kido was the only thing that dared break the silence. It was a delicate, fragile thing, her every movement a testament to the hope she refused to abandon.
Rukia's face was set with determination, but the grim lines of exhaustion were etched deep in her features. Sweat trickled down her brow as she muttered under her breath, repeating incantations with fervor. Her delicate hands glowed with the faint, pale blue light of healing energy, but it wasn't enough. No matter how much she tried, nothing was happening. The battle had taken more from Shinichi than she could ever hope to mend. She could feel his life slipping away with every failed attempt.
Ichigo stood at a distance, his eyes narrowed in helplessness. He had never seen Rukia so relentless, so consumed by the need to save someone. It was the same way she had always fought for others, but now… she was fighting for him. His gaze softened as he watched her, frustration and sorrow weighing heavily on his heart.
Finally, the silence was broken—Ichigo's voice, filled with quiet sadness, cut through the air. "Rukia… it's no use."
Rukia didn't respond. Her hands continued to move, the incantations still leaving her lips in a soft, frantic rhythm, as if she could push through her exhaustion and keep trying. She ignored Ichigo's words, stubbornness outweighing reason. She couldn't give up now, not when there was still the faintest glimmer of hope.
Minutes stretched on, and the air around them seemed to grow colder. It had been fifteen minutes, fifteen long minutes of trying and failing. The faint pulse of Shinichi's heartbeat was barely noticeable, a fragile thread holding on to life. Then, something changed. A presence, a small shift—a faint pulse of reiatsu.
Rukia's eyes shot open, her heart leaping in her chest. She placed her hand gently over Shinichi's wrist, a spark of warmth traveling through her fingertips. It was weak, barely perceptible, but it was enough.
His pulse… it was still there.
"I-It's faint, but… it's there!" Rukia exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and hope. "We need to get him to a hospital, now!"
Ichigo quickly moved to lift Shinichi's body, but Rukia, trembling but determined, was the first to act. She didn't waste a moment. With a glance at Ichigo, who stood rooted in place, a new urgency filled the air. They rushed towards the nearest hospital, their minds filled with a strange mixture of fear and fleeting hope.
---
The sterile, cold environment of the hospital was a far cry from the warmth of the streets where they'd fought, but it was where Shinichi needed to be. Ichigo and Rukia found themselves sitting outside the operating room, waiting for news they both dreaded and hoped for.
Rukia's expression was a mask of guilt. Her gaze was distant, clouded by self-reproach. "It's my fault…," she murmured, voice barely audible. "He tried to save me, and now… I should've never gotten close to him. If I had just stayed away, he wouldn't be in this condition."
Ichigo sighed, the weight of the situation bearing down on him. He knew Rukia carried that guilt, but it wasn't hers to bear. "It's not your fault, Rukia. It's mine… I was late. I should've taken care of that Hollow. If something happens to Shinichi, I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself."
Rukia looked at him then, her face softening, but still shadowed with the same pain. "Me too…"
Before Ichigo could respond, the doctor emerged from the ward, his face grim. Ichigo stood up abruptly, his heart racing. "What happened, Doc?"
The doctor sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "He's in a coma… He could wake up tomorrow, in a few weeks, months, years or never… We have no idea. I'm sorry."
Ichigo turned towards Rukia, whose face had grown even darker. The weight of the news was too much. Tears clung to her lashes, threatening to fall. Ichigo walked over to her, ready to comfort her, but before he could speak, Rukia cut him off.
"I know," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I-I need to go."
Ichigo reached for her arm, but she shook him off, her gaze fixed on the floor as she walked out without another word.
---
Shinichi's world was nothing but darkness.
There was no light, no sound, no sensation. Just the hollow emptiness of the void. His body felt like it didn't exist, like he was floating in some abyss, unsure of where he was or even who he was anymore. The only thing that cut through the suffocating blackness were the words that suddenly appeared in front of him.
[Quest Complete!]
[Survive a near-death Situation (100%)]
[Reward - Occupation change!]
Shinichi blinked at the notification, confused. "Occupation change?" he muttered aloud, trying to make sense of it. "What the hell does that mean?"
The system's words cut through the quiet in its usual blunt tone.
[Basically, race change, but with fancier words.]
Shinichi furrowed his brow. "Race change? What kind of race?"
The system's tone, dripping with sarcasm, responded.
[Is your brain in your knees or something?]
"Uh, no," Shinichi replied, half-annoyed. "Explain it to me properly."
The system sighed in exasperation.
[Occupation change means you can currently change your occupation from human to one of the following: Shinigami, Quincy, Fullbringer, or Hollow.]
Shinichi's eyes widened. "Damn... that's cool." He grinned, feeling a flicker of excitement. "So, what do I pick?"
The system sighed once more.
[Just choose one.]
Shinichi thought for a moment, his mind racing. A Quincy would be overpowered, sure, but there were too many complications without Yhwach's blood. And fighting him as a Quincy would be a pain. A Fullbringer? Lame. Hollow? Hell no—he didn't want to look ugly.
"Well," he muttered with a slight chuckle, "I've always wanted to perform a Bankai since I was a kid... Guess that leaves Shinigami."
He spoke aloud, "Hey, System! I wanna be a Soul Reaper!"
The system's voice responded in a tone of impatience.
[Took you long enough to make an obvious decision. Idiot.]
Suddenly, the next system notification appeared:
[Occupation changing from Human to Shinigami]
[NOTE: You will retain your previous Occupation; the new Occupation will be added.]
Shinichi smiled. "Not bad... Guess I'm a hybrid now. Maybe I can even be a group project like Ichigo one day."
The black energy around him intensified, swirling violently, consuming his body. A feeling of immense power flooded his senses as the transformation began. Shinichi felt his very being, ripped apart and reforged. His body seemed to float in the abyss, the energy swirling around him like a violent storm.
Finally, the system chimed in with a single, final message.
[Occupation change complete!]
Shinichi opened his eyes, but nothing had changed. He didn't feel different. He tried to move, but everything was the same. No new clothes. No zanpakuto. Nothing.
"Did you just prank me?" he asked, irritated.
The system's voice sounded almost amused.
[No, You're a Shinigami now.]
Shinichi furrowed his brow. "Then where's my zanpakuto? My Shihakusho?"
The system replied sarcastically,
[Do you want me to wipe your ass too, after you finish taking a dump? Figure it out yourself, little bitch.]
Shinichi narrowed his eyes, irritation rising. "What the hell... Did I just get scammed by a system that's supposed to help me?"
The system ignored him.
[Shut up. It's time to go back to your body. Everyone's waiting for you.]
---
The sterile white walls of the hospital room seemed to close in around Shinichi as he slowly regained consciousness. His body was on fire with agony, as if every nerve was stretched too thin and the weight of the world was crushing him from every angle. The very act of taking a breath felt like he was being stabbed with a thousand needles, each one piercing deep into his chest, spreading out like an infectious wave of misery. His limbs felt like they were made of lead, heavy and unresponsive, each movement sending shooting pain through his bones, like they were cracking under the strain.
Even the faintest twitch of his fingers was torture—his muscles screamed in protest as his body begged for rest, but there was no escaping the endless ache. His skull felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, and his mind was clouded with a dull haze, barely able to focus on anything beyond the overwhelming discomfort. The pain surged in waves, a relentless tide, ebbing and flowing with no mercy. It was as if his very existence was being torn apart from the inside out.
And then, a sudden shift. A faint sound—a door creaking open. He felt her presence before he saw her: the nurse. The moment she laid eyes on him, her shock was palpable. Her eyes nearly popped from her sockets as she froze, staring at him in disbelief. Shinichi, with what little strength he could muster, cracked a casual grin, his voice rough but laced with his usual irreverence.
"Uh... hello... I guess?"
The nurse's reaction was immediate—she let out a shriek that was both panicked and disbelieving. "DOCTOR! THE PATIENT IS OUT OF THE COMA!" She bolted from the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall, leaving Shinichi alone in the room, blinking up at the ceiling as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.
Moments later, the doctor burst through the door, moving with a sense of urgency. His eyes scanned Shinichi quickly, as though searching for any sign of injury, any indication that something was wrong. He moved with practiced efficiency, checking Shinichi's vitals and assessing his condition. Yet, to his utter shock, Shinichi's body seemed... fine. The doctor furrowed his brow, running another test, then another, all with the same result. Everything was stable. Everything was... normal.
"How is this possible?" the doctor muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with awe and disbelief. He looked at the nurse, who was standing by the door, still wide-eyed. "Call this person's friends. Now."
A few minutes later, the door to Shinichi's room opened again, this time with Ichigo, Orihime, Tatsuki, and Chad entering with a mix of relief and concern etched on their faces. Their eyes softened as they saw Shinichi sitting in the bed, covered in bandages, but with a bright, mischievous glint in his eyes. He was sipping juice from a box, as if he had just woken up from a light nap instead of a week-long coma.
"Yo!" Shinichi greeted, waving lazily with one hand, as though nothing had happened at all.
Ichigo smirked, shaking his head. "Haha... The same as ever, huh?"
Orihime, her voice quivering slightly with emotion, stepped forward, her eyes filling with tears. "When we heard you were in a coma because of the accident... we were so scared," she said, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I'm so happy you're healthy again."
Tatsuki followed suit, her eyes shining with pride. "Way to go, Shinichi! You battled with death and won... that's the Shinichi I know." She punched him lightly on the shoulder, a grin tugging at her lips.
Shinichi chuckled, the sound a little strained from the effort it took to speak. "Haha... thank you, guys. It's because of your prayers that I'm alive right now…" His gaze flickered briefly, then he added, "Oh, by the way, what time is it?"
The group exchanged glances, and Ichigo spoke up. "It's been more than a week since you went into the coma… and now you're finally awake."
Shinichi's eyes widened in realization. A full week had passed. That meant… 'Considering the timeline... Kon should already be here, and Ichigo should've already fought the Mom-killer hollow… Wait, is that disrespectful? I don't even remember the hollow's name.' His thoughts trailed off as the significance of the time he'd missed settled in, but before he could delve deeper into his musings, a sound interrupted his thoughts.
Footsteps. Running. Rapid. The sound grew louder, echoing down the hallway until the figure appeared in the doorway, panting and out of breath—Rukia. Her gaze immediately locked with Shinichi's, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of something in her eyes. She searched him, as if trying to find any trace of pain, sorrow, or regret. But there was none. Shinichi looked the same as ever—carefree, as if nothing had happened. Her expression softened, and she smiled, a quiet warmth creeping onto her face.
"Took you long enough…" she said, her voice teasing but filled with relief. "Welcome back."
Shinichi's smile widened as he gave a lazy grin. "Thanks for waiting…"
His voice trailed off as he finally exhaled and muttered, "Now get me outta here. I'm perfectly fine, I wanna go home."
Tatsuki, ever the voice of reason, pointed a finger at him, her expression turning stern. "Shut the hell up! You need rest, and if you try to spew that 'I'm fine' crap on me, I'll beat you up so badly, you may never wake up again. Ya got that?"
Shinichi winced slightly, but his grin remained intact. "Damn it... get the doctor to run the tests and see if I can be discharged or not."
Ichigo let out a deep sigh, rubbing the back of his head. "There's no getting through you, huh?" he muttered, before stepping out of the room to find the doctor.
The doctor returned after a short time, looking even more puzzled than before. He turned to the group, his voice full of awe. "This is unlike anything I've ever seen before. All of his wounds are completely healed... it's genuinely a miracle. Not only is he ready to be discharged, but he's also cleared for any physical activity. It's like he was never in a coma to begin with."
The group exchanged astonished glances, unable to process the impossible reality before them. But that thought quickly faded as they saw Shinichi, walking out of the room like it was just another day. He stretched his arms wide and grinned. "Let's go, guys! Man, I'm craving burgers today."
They couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the room dissolving as the absurdity of the situation sank in. Whatever the miracle was, they were just happy to have Shinichi back. And that was all that mattered.
As Ichigo, Rukia and Shinichi walked together, chatting casually, Ichigo's bag suddenly let out a muffled voice, followed by an irritable shout. "STAYING IN THIS STUPID BAG IS SO UNCOMFORTABLE!"
Shinichi, with a grin that stretched impossibly wide, feigned shock. "IS THAT A TALKING TOY???"
Ichigo hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well… it's a bit of a long story."
Shinichi raised his hand dismissively. "Yeah, I don't wanna hear it, thanks."
Eventually, the group reached the point where their paths diverged. Ichigo waved goodbye, smiling as he turned and walked toward his own home, leaving Shinichi and Rukia to continue their walk. For now, everything was as it should be.
As the two of them walked on, Shinichi couldn't shake the feeling of the silence between him and Rukia. It was like an unspoken tension lingered in the air, not oppressive, but definitely there. It made Shinichi uncomfortable, and he wished he could find the right words to break through it. After all, they'd been through so much together already—Rukia had been the one to heal his wounds in the first place, and here she was, still struggling with her own internal turmoil.
After a few more moments of walking, Shinichi sighed, unable to stand the silence any longer.
"I hope you didn't make a mess of the house in my absence?" he asked with a mischievous grin, trying to lighten the mood.
Rukia didn't respond immediately, her gaze still fixed on the ground. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, like she was carrying an invisible weight on her shoulders. There was a heaviness about her steps, her head down, that told him all he needed to know.
Shinichi watched her closely, concern creeping into his voice. "Rukia?" he asked softly, stepping in front of her to gently stop her. "What's going on? Something wrong?"
Rukia paused. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, only for a moment before she quickly dropped her gaze back to the ground. A slight shake of her head followed, but her expression betrayed everything. She was feeling guilty, and it was evident in the way she carried herself.
He could see it—the faint quiver in her hands, the way her shoulders seemed to sag under the weight of her thoughts. Her usually confident demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced by something much more fragile. Shinichi's brow furrowed in concern.
"You're blaming yourself, aren't you?" he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Rukia stiffened slightly, her eyes darting up to meet his once more. The guilt in them was unmistakable, and Shinichi felt his heart ache for her. She wasn't used to showing vulnerability—she wasn't used to being the one who needed saving. Rukia was a fighter, and she didn't like to admit when she was powerless.
"I was pathetic and powerless out there... and because of that... you almost died..." Her voice cracked just slightly, the weight of her words pulling at her chest. "I can't seem to forgive myself for it... I'm sorry."
Shinichi felt the full brunt of her self-blame hit him like a wave. But rather than letting the weight of it sink him, he smiled—an easy, warm smile that held nothing but understanding.
"And what's wrong with being powerless?" he said softly, his voice gentle but firm.
Rukia's eyes widened in surprise, the rawness of his words hitting her in an unexpected way. She blinked several times as if trying to understand the depth of his statement.
"There's nothing wrong with being powerless," Shinichi continued. "It's not your fault to be powerless. You can't blame yourself for not having the strength to do everything on your own. Those who take advantage of someone else's powerlessness... they're the ones who should be punished. Not you."
Rukia opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Shinichi wasn't finished yet, though.
"Saving you was a priority of mine. It wasn't about whether I could or couldn't, it was about doing what felt right. If I hadn't saved you, I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror. How could I call myself a man if I let someone like you go?" He paused, his smile never wavering. "Besides, you've saved so many lives. Don't you think it's time someone saved you for once?"
His words cut through the weight on her chest, though not immediately. Rukia was still processing, still feeling the sting of what had happened, but slowly, the cracks in her tough exterior began to show. The hard edges softened, and the guilt that had been slowly consuming her began to dissipate.
Shinichi took a step closer, his gaze warm, kind, and understanding. It was as if he was offering her a lifeline she didn't even know she needed.
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she couldn't hold it in any longer. Her tough, no-nonsense persona cracked as a single tear slipped down her cheek. But she didn't wipe it away. She didn't hide it. Instead, she looked at him—really looked at him—like she was seeing him for the first time.
"Thank you, Shinichi..." she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with such sincerity that it felt like her soul was reaching out to him.
Shinichi blinked, suddenly surprised by the tenderness in her words. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, a light blush creeping across his face.
"I—I didn't even do anything..." he stammered, trying to deflect the emotion swelling in his chest. "Stop doing this... it's not a big deal..."
But Rukia's laugh, a small but genuine sound, cut through his awkwardness. She reached up and lightly smacked his hand, her playful demeanor starting to return.
"Now, make me some of those pancakes!" she demanded, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "I've been craving them ever since you were gone."
Shinichi chuckled, relieved by the shift in the atmosphere. He shook his head, feigning disbelief.
"Who eats pancakes in the evening? Idiot..." he muttered with a grin.
Rukia's smile widened as they continued walking, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like a cocoon. The tension between them had dissolved, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and understanding. There was no longer any need for words, just the simple fact that they were both here, together.
And for Shinichi, that was enough. It wasn't about grand gestures or epic battles. Sometimes, all it took was a smile, a few words of reassurance, and the quiet understanding that, even in their weakest moments, they weren't alone.
And in the end, that was what mattered most.