Opening my eyes, I stared at the ceiling.
It seemed like I had seen it somewhere before.
"Déjà vu…" I whispered.
"Do you know the meaning of that word?" I heard someone say next to me.
Looking to my left, I saw a tall, beautiful woman. She had long black hair braided in front — a strange hairstyle. She was dressed in a shinigami uniform, but over it she wore a white haori. A captain. That's right. It was Captain Retsu Unohana of the 4th Division. Rangiku had told me about her.
"A psychological state in which you feel you've been in a similar situation before," I replied with difficulty. My whole body ached. Thinking itself felt hard.
"That's right," she nodded calmly. "Where did you learn about that?"
"I don't remember… What happened to me?"
"Isane brought you here. You were beaten, severely exhausted from using spiritual power, and your spiritual shell was dangerously strained."
Then I remembered everything. Memories flooded my mind like a crushing wave.
Death!
Battle!
Helplessness!
Carnage!
"No! No! No! No!" The scream tore out of me.
A wild pain clenched my chest! My heart felt crushed. I was suffocating — I couldn't breathe!
Tears streamed from my eyes.
Someone wrapped their arms around me and pulled me close.
"Hush, hush," she stroked my head gently. "Everything will be fine." Her voice was impossibly soothing. There was a pleasant scent… I couldn't even understand what it was.
The pain has become less sharp.
Soon I calmed down. I didn't even comprehend what was happening. She truly seemed like an incredibly experienced doctor — not only of the body and soul, but also of the mind.
"What happened after that?" I asked, staring blankly at the wall, thoughtlessly listening to her.
"Ichimaru Gin brought you home," she began. "He handed you to Isane and called for backup from the 5thDivision. They conducted an investigation. Isane gave you first aid and brought you to me. You were very exhausted, but the important thing is that I was able to stabilize you."
"Why… did they do all that?" I whispered, my eyes still fixed on the wall.
"Have you heard about the disaster in Hiroshima and Nagasaki?" she asked. I nodded. "Due to the sudden arrival of such an enormous number of souls, it was decided to build another district and expand the existing ones as much as possible."
"Many lumberjacks — including the sawmill in District 10 — received an order to supply wood. They accepted and were supposed to cut down the forest five kilometers south of the district. But that man, George… that was his name, decided to profit from the order," she paused. "We questioned his subordinates and acquaintances and learned a great deal about him. The Second Division also obtained all the documents and extracted a lot of information."
She handed me a folder with this man's face on it. A photograph.
"George Walt was an American soldier who deserted the army and fled to Japan. But he died in the nuclear explosion. A year later he began his activities. He became a preacher and gathered a sect. Thanks to his knowledge of psychology, acting skills, and weak spiritual powers, he was convincing enough to gather many devoted followers. The Marked Ones were like scarecrows to him — he had no intention of killing them. Alive and unharmed, they were far more profitable for him."
"But recently he learned about that order and decided to carry it out — using the Marked Ones. By killing them and spreading the rumor that the area was contaminated with Hollows, bribing several shinigami to confirm it, he hoped to obtain permission to cut down the forest for 'purification.' He would then sell the wood as part of the construction order. He would have made a fortune."
"And what about those Shinigami?"
"Those three were newbies in the 11th Division. Captain Zaraki was furious when he found out what his subordinates had done. The number of patients increased dramatically, and it seems he decided to start investigating his own people," she said. "But there were others who were bribed — some aristocrats were also involved. We haven't been able to find them yet."
"I see…" I lowered my head. The bigwigs protected themselves. Bastards! I hate them. I'll find them and— …I won't find them… "Thank you… What's next?"
"Nothing," she sighed. "Our people will search for the culprits, but the chances of finding them are very low."
"I see…"
"Why did you help them?" she asked.
"Who else but me?" I answered her question with another. "No one else could help them. And I couldn't just walk away. And now I'm the only survivor… again…"
"You're strange."
"Maybe. Hm?" I caught her thoughtful gaze.
"I just remembered who you remind me of," she smiled softly. "You're very similar to one of my patients."
"Really?"
"At first, I thought you might be related, but the testing showed that wasn't the case."
"I see."
"I'd like to ask you for a favor."
"What is it?"
"Your blood. May I take some?"
"Why?"
"You have a very unusual soul and a fairly high level of regeneration. Your blood could save one person — the one I mentioned."
"Save? …Okay."
"Thank you."
She quickly went through all the procedures and took my blood. I didn't pay much attention to it. She gave me something to drink afterward and told me to sleep.
I didn't argue, but sleep wouldn't come.
When she left, I simply lay there, staring at the ceiling. Tears ran down my cheeks — perhaps the last ones in my life.
I had lost them. My friends… those I had been connected to for so long. Those dear to me.
Honoka-san, Andy-san, Old Man Bori, Tetsu, Tatsu, Hotaru…
Their faces drifted before my eyes. So much we had shared. So much we had passed.
I still couldn't believe any of it had happened. They were dead… all of them… because of me. I survived — the only one who survived.
I lay there and sank deeper into my own emptiness.
Emptiness… I wonder, do Hollows have something similar inside them? Did they lose something too? That's probably why they have a hole. Now, if I were a newly-formed soul… would I already be Hollow.
What should I do now?
What can I do?
I am weak. I can't do anything. I can't help anyone. Find those who helped the preacher? Even that I doubt I can do. After all, I am nobody. And even if I do find them — they are probably be big shots. I wouldn't be able to lay a finger on them.
It's so cruel. First the world gave Hotaru and the others hope, then it took it away. Then it gave it back, and I naively believed in happiness — and this is what I received in return. I lost everything…
There's no point…
There's no justice in this world…
"Yare-yare," I heard nearby.
The window slid open, and Gin appeared in the bright moonlight.
"Falling into apathy?" he smiled. The same smile, the same foxlike squint of the eyes. He really did look like a fox.
"Hi," I nodded. He was dressed in a regular shinigami uniform today, not his silver robes.
"I sympathize," he said, sitting on the windowsill and tossing me a handkerchief. "Wipe your eyes."
"Yeah…" I muttered, struggling to pick up the handkerchief and wipe my face.
"Do you blame yourself?"