NOTAKING
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Ble@ch: Chapter 95
🕑 Added 2025-06-17 19:36:35 +0000 UTCThey arrived at an abandoned industrial site on the outskirts of town. Rusted beams, shattered windows, and creaking walls gave the place a haunted vibe—but Ichigo smirked as he felt several distinct spiritual pressures pulsing within.
“All right, Hime,” he said, hands in his pockets. “The one who can help you is here. Honestly... I wouldn’t mind if you trained with him too.”
Orihime tilted her head. “How do you know this person?”
Ichigo glanced away. “I don’t. Not really. But I figured someone here could help you.”
His lie wasn’t smooth—Orihime stared at him, eyebrows furrowed. But after a beat, she let it go with a soft sigh as they stepped inside.
The floor groaned beneath them. Concrete dust floated in shafts of light cutting through the broken ceiling. Ichigo and Orihime walked to the center of the room.
Then—
Footsteps echoed above.
Shinji Hirako appeared on the second floor, leaning casually over the railing. The place was barely holding together, but his stance was confident as ever.
“If you’re here,” Shinji called, voice dry, “then you must be ready to join us... Ichigo.”
Ichigo looked up, unfazed. Orihime, on the other hand, froze in surprise.
“Shinji?” she breathed.
Shinji blinked, surprised to see her too. But then his serious expression shifted into his usual grin. “Well, well, Orihime-chan! Are you finally here to accept my love?”
“No,” she said firmly.
Shinji mock-flinched. “Ouch. Cold as ever.”
Orihime turned to Ichigo. “Is he the one helping me? And what did he mean about you joining?”
Ichigo shook his head. “No, not him. The guy you want is over there.” He pointed to a shadowed corner of the warehouse.
From the darkness stepped a large figure—tall, wide, with a serene expression and soft pink hair tied neatly. His presence was calm, but his spiritual pressure was undeniable. His name was Hachigen Ushōda.
Orihime’s eyes widened. “I’ve never seen anyone that big.”
Ichigo smirked. “That’s what she said.”
A loud snort echoed from the upper floor.
“Pfft—this guy’s funny,” laughed a girl leaning against the railing, wiping a tear from behind her glasses.
Lisa Yadōmaru.
Ichigo grinned wider. 'Ah, Lisa... my favorite pervert in this group.'
Then his brain short-circuited a moment. Wait—I'm in the past. His eyes widened. That joke hasn’t even been made yet... I could invest in Bitcoin. How the hell didn’t I think of that earlier?!
He snapped out of it.
“I’m not here to join you, Shinji,” Ichigo said coolly. “Just came to ask for help. See, Orihime has a problem. And Hachigen can help—since your powers are kinda similar, right?”
He glanced back. “Go ahead, Hime. Show them.”
Orihime hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck as a subtle blush crept up her cheeks. “Um… okay.”
Ichigo raised a hand. “Oh—and just a heads-up. Don’t say anything reckless about her powers. Some of you might find yourselves dying again. Though, come to think of it, you were all probably born in the Soul Society anyway so… actually, never mind what I just said.”
He stepped back, arms crossed, smirking slightly.
Hachigen stepped forward with a calm nod, watching Orihime with interest.
The Visoreds grew silent.
Orihime stepped forward and raised her hand. “Santen Kesshun!”
Three golden fairies zipped out, forming a triangular shield that hovered in the air. It shimmered brightly for a second—then flickered, destabilizing at the edges before vanishing with a soft hum.
She took a breath, then extended her other hand. “Shun Shun Rikka—Tsubaki, go!”
Nothing happened.
A faint light sparked in her hairclip, but no figure appeared.
“…He’s still not healed,” she admitted softly. “I can heal others, but I haven’t been able to fix him. It’s like his spiritual form is… broken.”
Hachigen, watching carefully, stepped forward and adjusted his glasses. “That was impressive. You’re not healing. You’re rejecting phenomena entirely—reversing time and injury. That’s far beyond what most can do.”
Orihime blinked in surprise. “So… can you fix Tsubaki?”
“I believe so,” Hachigen said gently. “Our abilities are similar. With time, we may be able to restore him—and even improve your control.”
Ichigo crossed his arms and grinned. “Told you this was the right place.”
Shinji smirked from above. “She’s got talent. Alright, Hacchi, she’s all yours. Now, Ichigo. Are you going to join us or not?"
“Nah,” Ichigo replied casually, already appearing beside Lisa and Mashiro, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch. “I’m too strong, honestly. But I don’t mind hanging with the girls in this group.”
Lisa rolled her eyes with a smirk. Mashiro, in her flashy green bodysuit, gave a playful giggle. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that.”
“So,” Ichigo grinned, “you two take down any Hollows lately? Or are you just here to look pretty?”
They both laughed—light-hearted and amused, not mocking. Lisa gave him a sideways glance. “Flatterer.”
‘Am I a natural or what?’ Ichigo thought proudly, leaning back.
Orihime, watching from the side, pouted slightly. She crossed her arms but didn’t say anything. One day, she promised herself, he’s going to pay for that. For now, though, she focused on her training with Hachigen.
Ichigo relaxed on the couch, enjoying the moment while Orihime worked hard nearby, pouring energy into each attempt. He kept an eye on her, making sure she was improving. She’ll need to be strong—for what’s coming.
Then it hit him. Tatsuki. He sat up slightly. ‘I still need to talk to her. I’ll stop by after this.’
Mashiro leaned forward curiously. “So have you defeated your Hollow side yet?”
Ichigo looked at her, a cocky smile forming. “Defeated? Nah. Me and him—best buddies, you see. That’s why I can use this without any time limit.”
He turned toward Hachigen. “Hey, Hacchi—mind putting up a barrier? I don’t want this place turning into rubble.”
Hachigen nodded. “Understood.”
He performed a swift sequence of hand seals. Golden symbols flared to life around the building, forming a dome of pulsating spiritual light that hummed with stability.
Ichigo stood, stepping away from the couch. With a smooth motion, he shifted into his Shinigami form—Zangetsu already in hand. Then, slowly, he raised his fingers to his face.
With a swipe across his features, black flames ignited, consuming his skin like ink in water.
TO BE CONTINUED
