The shopping district of Karakura Town was quiet as May approached.
Two figures—a man and a woman—walked noisily through a deserted alleyway lined with apartments and small, family-owned shops.
"Ugh, so tacky! What is this place? Is Karakura Town really this pathetic?"
The girl mocking the silence of the streets was Riruka Dokugamine. Deep magenta hair tied in twin tails fluttered behind her as she walked, her pretty face twisted in a scowl. The man beside her, by contrast, was composed.
"If you prefer a more sophisticated atmosphere, I suggest the area near the station. Personally, I find this stillness quite charming."
"Nobody asked for your opinion! Save the monologue for someone who cares!"
At Riruka's outburst, the gentlemanly man with the eye patch—Giriko Kutzawa—merely shrugged. Dressed in a lolita-style mini-dress and a finely tailored suit vest respectively, they looked like a spoiled young heiress and her dutiful butler.
But they were no ordinary humans.
Fullbringers.
They were rare psychics who could command the souls dwelling within all things and make that power their own. Their applications were vast—from manipulating the soul of a drink to make it leap into their mouths, to commanding the soul of the asphalt to enhance their jumps.
Unlike Soul Reapers or Quincies, the spiritual abilities of Fullbringers were believed to originate from Hollows. Perhaps because of this, they had always been forced to live in the shadows, shunned by both the Soul Reapers and their fellow humans.
"So? Who is this 'Ichigo' candidate, anyway? All I know is that he's a Substitute Soul Reaper, just like Ginjo."
Riruka didn't let the weight of that dark destiny show. She strode through the wind, her slender legs peeking out from beneath her skirt.
They were heading toward their companion, who was currently recruiting this "Ichigo." There had been no sign of success yet; the boy's spiritual pressure remained unchanged.
"I have heard he was the one who cornered Sosuke Aizen, but I know little beyond that," Giriko replied.
"Seriously, both Ginjo and Tsukishima are so annoying! Do they really not trust us that much?!"
"Tsukishima seemed to have his own concerns. Regardless of how the recruitment goes, I doubt we will be lacking for trouble," Giriko murmured, adding quietly, "That is why we came to check on things."
Riruka stopped in front of their destination. The presence of their troublesome leader was inside this two-story building.
"'Unagi-ya'... Ugh, eel has gotten so expensive lately. Maybe I'll make Ginjo treat me on the way back."
"I don't smell anything cooking. Perhaps it is a different business with the same name? The sign says 'Magatsumiya,' a jack-of-all-trades shop."
"Are you kidding me? That's total fraud! I was completely in the mood for grilled eel!"
They spent a few moments exchanging such trivial banter while hiding on the roof of the apartment building across the street. Finally, the shop door opened, and a familiar man in a leather jacket with slicked-back hair emerged.
The founder of the secret society where these Fullbringers gathered: Kugo Ginjo.
"I thought I told you guys not to follow me."
He looked up at them with his usual smug expression. He was alone. Realizing what that meant, Riruka snorted.
"Oh boy, did the recruitment fail? How embarrassing—coming with a gift and getting rejected. If you'd left it to a pro like me, I could've seduced a teenage boy in no time!"
"...I don't recall ever seeing you engage in any romantic pursuits," Giriko noted dryly.
"Shut up! I'm not some cheap woman who gets serious over some brat! Besides, any man would fall for my beauty in a heartbeat!"
Riruka snapped at Giriko before turning back to the man in the leather jacket.
"Anyway, Ginjo! You always—"
She never got to finish her sentence.
"Keep it down. They'll hear you inside."
Riruka jumped at the sound of a voice coming from directly behind her.
He had taken her back without her sensing even a hint of his presence. If this had been a fight, it would have been over before she knew it started.
Riruka grit her teeth in humiliation, but she was already out of the man's sight. He was looking down at the other side of the apartment complex.
Watching the orange-haired youth walk away from the shop with hurried steps, Kugo Ginjo curled his lips into a mocking grin.
"The fun is just beginning."
As Ginjo had predicted, the plan to reel in "Ichigo"—Ichigo Kurosaki—worked perfectly.
The recruitment of Chad, the absence of Ichigo's father, Isshin, the secret meetings between Kisuke Urahara and Ichigo's sister, Karin...
Ginjo took everything the family and friends were keeping secret from Ichigo and presented it with a malicious spin, fueling his anxiety and distrust toward everyone around him. It was a psychological trap so cold it would make anyone's skin crawl.
"This is a warning. Do something while you still can."
Riruka could easily imagine those words staining Ichigo's heart like poison.
Then, once they had succeeded in ambushing his friends like Uryu Ishida, and Ichigo reached the point where he could no longer stand his own helplessness...
The first stage of Ginjo's plan would be complete, leaving only the final move.
"...I've 'inserted' it into his past, just as Ginjo instructed."
It was evening when Shukuro Tsukishima arrived at their hideout, his face darker than usual.
"Good work. Would you like some cognac to relax?" Giriko offered.
"...I'll pass. I don't want to lower my guard."
Riruka's mood soured further as she watched Tsukishima decline the offer.
"Hmph! If it's so dangerous, why don't you ask us for help?! You haven't told us anything, so we don't even know what the danger is!"
She hated it. She hated that Ginjo and Tsukishima were moving ahead on their own. She hated that they didn't trust their own comrades.
And most of all, she hated herself for preying on Ichigo Kurosaki's weaknesses for a mysterious plan she couldn't even take responsibility for.
The other members shared her frustration. Their dissatisfied faces and glares turned toward Tsukishima.
"...If you're that curious, I can tell you. But are you prepared for the price of knowing something you're better off not knowing?"
Tsukishima's warning made everyone go still. His eyes, black as a bottomless abyss, pierced through each of them one by one.
The price.
The implication of his words was clear. Riruka swallowed hard against the tension, then nodded with resolve.
"Fine. It'll be better than having to fake it all the time. Do whatever you want."
"Riruka, you...!"
"Shut up, Jackie! When I said we should trust our comrades, I wasn't just talking about Tsukishima!"
The room fell silent at the girl's shout.
As Riruka said, there was a distance between Tsukishima and the others that no amount of pretending could hide. The cause was a sense of guilt—because they looked at Tsukishima with the same fear and strangeness that "normal people" looked at Fullbringers.
That was how alien and horrifying Tsukishima's Fullbring—Book of the End—truly was.
"You don't have to be so guarded. When this is over, I'll return things to the way they were with Ginjo. It's quite a lot of work to keep everyone's stories straight so that none of you 'break,' you know."
Understanding the unbridgeable distance between himself and the others better than anyone, Tsukishima showed no interest in his comrades. The only bond he cared for was the one with his savior, Kugo Ginjo—the only person in the world who didn't fear him.
As a comrade, that fact made Riruka feel incredibly bitter.
"Alright, I'll explain. Once you're all satisfied, I'll 'insert' it immediately. Are you ready?"
With a slight twist of his usual detached expression, Tsukishima began to reveal the details of the plan.
And when the conversation turned to the final remaining mystery, the young man reached into his jacket after several moments of hesitation and pulled something out.
"...This doesn't matter anymore, but I'll show it to you anyway."
Relating his experience, Tsukishima opened his palm to reveal the object.
When Riruka and the others saw what was there, a chill of indescribable terror ran down their spines.
†††
"...You're back, Tsukishima."
The time was one month prior.
A spring evening with cherry blossoms dancing in the air.
Having finished the "setup" for the day, Shukuro Tsukishima returned to the hideout in Naruki City from Karakura Town, his expression unchanged despite the burden of seventeen years of newly acquired memories.
"No problems. Yasutora Sado, Ichigo Kurosaki's best friend, is now my 'little brother.' That is how it has become."
"Hah. You're as ruthless as ever."
Tsukishima reported the outcome to Kugo Ginjo, who was relaxing on the sofa.
The mission was a cornerstone of their long-held ambition: a move to bring the Substitute Soul Reaper, Ichigo Kurosaki, under their control. By planting seeds of despair in the hearts of his family and friends, they would use that despair to force Ichigo's powers to bloom. Tsukishima's Fullbring was the perfect tool for creating such absolute despair.
"Keep going with the rest of them. I can't move until your groundwork is finished."
"...Yeah."
Tsukishima agreed. But Ginjo didn't miss the slight hesitation that even Tsukishima hadn't been fully aware of.
"What's wrong? Something happen?"
"Huh?"
"You look pretty down. That's not like you."
Being called out made Tsukishima realize the small emotion hidden deep in his chest for the first time.
The mission to insert the existence of "Big Brother Shukuro Tsukishima" into Chad's heart had been a success. Tsukishima was the one who saved Chad's Abuelo; he was like a blood brother to him; he was the one who helped Ichigo Kurosaki save his friends in the Soul Society. With a single flick of his will, those seeds of memory had sprouted, becoming a true past within Chad.
The preparations were perfect.
And yet.
"...There was something that didn't quite sit right with me."
It was less an emotion and more an uncanny feeling.
While everything had proceeded exactly as he intended, Tsukishima had felt a strange, lingering chill—just once. It happened in Chad's past, during the rescue of Rukia Kuchiki, just as Aizen and his followers were leaving the Soul Society via the Negacion.
"A gaze?" Ginjo asked for clarification.
Tsukishima nodded.
"Yeah. I saw 'her' several times after that, and I even tried talking to her."
"And she only showed interest in you that one time?"
He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but saying it out loud made the abnormality stand out. It was as if he didn't even exist to her; Tsukishima hadn't been able to engage in a conversation with the "woman" who had planted that seed of unease within him.
"That is strange. I heard Aizen gave that woman special treatment, but..."
Since the battle in Karakura Town had taken place inside a barrier, Ginjo and the others didn't know much. But Tsukishima, who had fought Aizen alongside Ichigo Kurosaki in the past world, had gained one piece of intriguing information during the battle.
"...Come to think of it."
"What?"
"I inserted myself into the past where Ichigo Kurosaki exhausted his powers. Right before he was sealed by Kisuke Urahara's kido, Aizen said something strange."
Do not get too close to the girl who calls herself a "Reader."
Ginjo frowned as the memory was shared. Tsukishima was likely making the same face.
"That's when I remembered. The second time I met her, Kisuke Urahara called her the 'Reader' too."
"It would be premature to write it off as Aizen's sore-loser talk."
Fragments of a mystery they had overlooked were beginning to surface. An anomaly had suddenly appeared in their perfect plan.
And yet, in the face of such a gathering storm...
"...How interesting."
Ginjo laughed.
"Isn't that interesting? A 'Reader' appearing before you, the 'Bookmark'... it's too perfect to be a coincidence."
"...That woman is a monster who annihilated the Gotei 13. Whatever she is, I think it's best if we don't get involved."
"Heh. That's not like you. Are you scared because someone finally found a way to mess with your ability?"
Tsukishima sighed at the change in his leader's demeanor.
"We can't do anything without information. Next time you 'insert' yourself into someone, make sure you add your investigation of that woman to your past."
"...You're really going to do this?"
"There was a reaction at the Hill of Sokyoku. The people from the World of the Living who were there were Uryu Ishida, Orihime Inoue, and Yoruichi Shihoin. If we use the pasts of those three, we should be able to see our next move."
With a playful "I'm counting on you," Ginjo stood up and disappeared behind the bar counter to scrounge for a drink.
That day, he did not heed Tsukishima's warning.
†††
Night fell over the high-class residential area of Naruki City. Shukuro Tsukishima lived in an old Western-style mansion he had acquired by manipulating the owner's past.
"Welcome back, Mr. Tsukishima!"
As soon as he stepped through the front door, his noisy housemate appeared. It was Moe Shishigawara, a high school boy and fellow Fullbringer who had taken a strange liking to him.
"I'm home. I'm a bit tired, so I'm going to sleep."
"What?! Are you okay?! I'll patrol the area with everything I've got to make sure not even a mouse gets in, so please, get some rest!"
"Yeah. Forget the patrol, just try to stay quiet, okay?"
Too tired to deal with him, Tsukishima went upstairs to his room. Unlocking the reinforced door he had designed to withstand even Shishigawara's Fullbring, Tsukishima sat on his bed and reflected on the day's events.
"...You're still the same, Ginjo. Always so reckless."
It was a bad habit of his. The first Substitute Soul Reaper, betrayed by the people he believed in, and who now hated all Soul Reapers. Though he acted as a merciless avenger, he was constantly suffering because of the kindness deep within his heart.
Avenge the fallen. Stand up for those being oppressed. And yet, somewhere in his heart, he continued to wish for his own ambitions to be crushed.
That was the kind of man Kugo Ginjo was. And the lonely Tsukishima, hated by everyone, had been saved by that twisted kindness.
"I suppose it can't be helped..."
Lost in memories of his savior, the young man stood up to return the book in his jacket to the shelf.
Tomorrow would be busy. He decided to take an unread fantasy novel with him. It was easier to keep track of where he was, so he wouldn't get lost in the gap between "past" and reality.
Tsukishima smiled wryly at himself, already intending to follow Ginjo's orders.
"...Hm?"
Then.
As he walked past his desk, he noticed something sitting there that he didn't recognize.
"...A letter?"
He picked it up, suspicious. He didn't feel any spiritual pressure from it. It was a perfectly ordinary envelope with a vintage wax seal.
...This was wrong.
Tsukishima frowned. This hadn't been here this morning. He had told Shishigawara not to enter the room, and besides, the room wasn't designed in a way that would allow for the "unlucky" chance of him getting in.
Then how on earth did this get here...?
A bad feeling crawled up his spine. With the utmost caution, Tsukishima opened the pale pink envelope.
The moment he saw the four hiragana characters written on the stationary inside...
"...?!"
He felt a sudden, intense sensation—as if a heavy gaze was licking all over his body from behind.
"Who's there?!"
In an instant, he transformed his bookmark into his sword and whipped around.
The only thing in his sight was his room, exactly as it always was. He scanned the area, but nothing had changed. Keeping his guard up, he looked back down at the letter—the likely source of the anomaly.
But then, he went speechless.
"What...?"
The stationary was blank. The simple phrase that had definitely been there just moments ago had vanished.
It was gone, as if it had been a hallucination.
"...Ginjo."
After a few breaths, Tsukishima put the stationary back in the envelope. Cold sweat beaded on his face, and the hand holding the letter trembled slightly.
"It seems that even without your death wish, the other side is already in the mood for it..."
They had been driven into a situation from which there was no turning back. His future—and Ginjo's—was now completely shrouded in darkness.
As he imagined the coming battle with the Transcendent, Shukuro Tsukishima could do nothing but laugh in a mixture of resignation and terror.
On the stationary he had just opened, a single phrase had been written in a feminine, elegant hand:
I f o u n d y o u
***
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