"Do you blame yourself?"
"Yes."
"That's silly," he chuckled. Yeah, I'm drowning in grief here, and he's joking. Now I understand why Rangiku was always so indignant about him. "It's not your fault. In fact, without you, they would have died much sooner."
"I suppose so."
"It's impossible to foresee everything. They trusted you, and you didn't let them down. It's just that the world turned out to be more complicated than you."
"I suppose so."
"They'll be back. Sooner or later. That's the cycle of life."
"I suppose so."
"Have you decided to give up?"
"What makes you think that?"
"You have the look of someone who has accepted defeat," he shrugged.
"Do I have a chance to change the world?"
"No," he replied honestly.
"Well, thank you."
"You can't change the world with force alone," he said, raising his head to the sky.
"What else is needed?"
"Well," he thought aloud. "Perseverance, willpower, and… blood…" A chill ran through him at that last word.
"Blood?" I didn't understand.
"Yeah. Those who try to change the world by force alone have to shed a lot of blood. Sometimes you have to sacrifice something, destroy something. The world doesn't change just because you want it to, and not only through good deeds. Sometimes you have to get your hands covered in blood up to the elbows… or even roll around in shit."
His words weren't a revelation to me. I understood that already, but I tried not to think about it. My dream was too idealized, and the dirt beneath it—I pushed it aside. Yes. Shinigami aren't noble warriors; they're monster killers. Their task isn't to save everyone, but to fight Hollows to maintain order and harmony.
"Those who are willing to become murderer, who have patience and perseverance, can become anything… and…" He looked at me and opened his eyes. I saw them clearly for the first time—silver. "Change the world."
"Change the world." I repeated.
"Think about it. Are you ready to put the world on a path of war, death, and blood?" He smiled, but now his smile wasn't foxlike—it was serpentine. A terrifying smile—cimbued with coldness, poison, and power.
A shiver ran down my spine.
"Think about it," he nodded, turning back into a fox. "Are you ready to do it…"
With these words, he disappeared in a shunpo.
What a strange guy.
But for some reason, I felt lighter. I don't know why… It just became easier to breathe. The heaviness eased a little.
Am I ready to get my hands dirty?
That's a difficult question. I realize that I am an idealist. Yes, I believed in the bright image of the shinigami until I saw their other side of these people. They shouldn't be idealized. They're just people. With pros and cons—like anyone else. So simply being the strongest is not enough. I need to be even more cunning and use everything I have wisely.
My friends died. And yes, part of that guilt is mine. But I promise—I will never allow this to happen again.
I will become the strongest. I will become the most important. And I will subjugate everything…
***
Two days later, I was completely healthy. Fortunately, I didn't get bored there. Rangiku came to see me—she even cried when I told her everything. I had to calm her down. I never thought she had such a sensitive heart. She's still a good person, even if she sometimes behaves like a capricious child. Isane also visited me often, checking my condition and bringing medicine.
But on the last day, someone I absolutely did not expect came to visit me.
A huge man with an eyepatch, a rough face, as if carved from stone, and a strange hairstyle with bells. He wore a shinigami uniform, a sleeveless captain's haori, and a massive sword on his back.
There was also a little girl with pink hair sitting on his shoulder. What's more, she wore a lieutenant's armband—just like Gin. What a bizarre pair.
"Captain of the 11th Division, Zaraki Kenpachi," he introduced himself. I immediately felt sick. He's their captain? How fitting. "I apologize for my subordinates. If they were alive, I'd have killed them myself."
"I understand," I said, struggling to keep calm. After all, he wasn't personally to blame. "I accept your apology."
He nodded and turned away.
"Captain Zaraki," I called after him. "Maybe you don't need my advice, but… force alone won't solve everything."
"What?" he growled. Pressure crashed onto my shoulders, growing heavier by the second. He clearly didn't appreciate advice. I didn't move. Didn't panic. Didn't give in.
I knew I couldn't endure for long, but I wouldn't back down.
Finally, the pressure stopped. He turned around.
"Pff."
"Bye-bye!" the girl waved cheerfully.
And that was it. He just came, said his piece, and left. I don't think he was insincere. Captain Unohana once told me he simply never apologizes to anyone. He always believes he's right. And his methods always justified themselves. But even he can't keep track of every subordinate.
Let's hope he listens to my advice.
They also gave me the belongings that remained after my friends: Honoka-san's hairpin, Hotaru's writing brush, the twins' toys, the old man's cup, and Andy-san's crutch handle. That's all that remained. Maybe there was more, but most of it was likely taken as evidence. As I was told, everything is now with the 2nd Division—they're investigating the case.
The 2nd Division, then. It will be interesting to visit them.
After thanking Captain Unohana and Isane for their help, I returned home. Almost nothing had changed there. Everyone already knew what had happened.
Before lunch, I decided to do something else.
Taking these things that I had left of theirs, as well as a shovel, a hammer, and a chisel, I headed to what remained of their home.
It was hard to go back there.
Hard to breathe. My heart ached.
The rain had washed away the blood, flesh, and traces of the tragedy. Only the destroyed houses remained to testify that something terrible had happened.
I found a more or less suitable spot, dug a hole and placed all their things inside. I didn't need them—they will be too painful a memory.
Buried everything. Then I found a large stone, placed it over the spot, and carved their names into it with a hammer and small chisel.
Honoka.
Tetsu.
Tatsu.
Andy.
Bori.
Hotaru.
By evening, I had finished the work. Now they had a proper grave. A very nice one, in fact. I think they would have liked it.
"I'm sorry," I whispered with a faint smile. Tears glistened in my eyes. "I won't let this happen again." I wiped my tears and stood up. Turned around and sighed. "I swear—I will change the world!"
I said nothing more… No more words were needed.
Something nudged me gently.
"Huh?" I turned, and all I saw was the setting sun casting golden rays across the gravestone. "Wishing me luck?" A warm, barely noticeable breeze brushed my face. "Thank you… I'll be back…"
And I left.
Now, I have a lot to do.