"I'm eating!"
That evening, Hinamori Momo returned carrying a large watermelon from Tōshirō's backyard.
She cut it carefully, dividing it into neat slices, then pushed the largest portion toward Sombravida.
Sombravida ate.
And confirmed it.
He was hungry.
That meant one thing—
He possessed Reiryoku.
In Rukongai, ordinary souls do not require food. Only those with spiritual power feel hunger. The stronger the Reiryoku, the greater the appetite.
By the time Sombravida finished more than half the melon, Momo was staring at him with wide eyes.
"Tsukishiro-nii… you're still not full?"
Sombravida scratched his head awkwardly.
"Sorry. I may have eaten too much."
In truth, he could already feel faint threads of Reishi gathering within him.
Unlike Hollows, who devour and forcibly convert spiritual matter, Shinigami draw Reishi from the environment and refine it into Reiryoku internally.
It was slower.
Subtler.
But far more stable.
After one night of rest and half a watermelon, Sombravida could sense the early formation of a circulation pattern inside his soul body. The flow was unstable, but it was there.
He was rebuilding.
From zero.
Momo, however, was delighted.
"That's amazing! It means Nii-san has strong spiritual potential!"
Tōshirō crossed his arms.
"Or it means we'll need to grow more melons."
Momo glared at him.
Sombravida smiled faintly.
"I'll help starting tomorrow. I can't just stay home."
Momo hesitated.
"But your eyes…"
"I've lived like this before," Sombravida said smoothly. "I'm used to it. Just help me find a long branch to use as a cane."
Tōshirō snorted.
"There are spare vine poles behind the shed. I'll cut one."
"Thank you," Sombravida nodded sincerely.
As night deepened, they finished the melon.
Sombravida lay on the tatami while Momo slept nearby.
He closed his eyes.
And began observing the faint currents inside himself.
He tried circulating Reishi the way Hollows manipulated their internal energy—
Immediate resistance.
The pathways were different.
Shinigami cultivation required refinement, compression, internalization.
Not consumption.
He slowed down.
Threaded the particles gently.
Observed their natural route.
One circulation.
Two.
Three.
He did not force it.
That would risk internal spiritual turbulence—dangerous for an untrained soul.
After several attempts, he exhaled slowly.
"This will take time."
He allowed himself to sleep.
In Soul Society, sleep accelerates passive Reishi absorption.
It was inefficient—
But safe.
The next morning, Momo rose quietly, careful not to wake him.
Sombravida had been awake the moment she stirred.
Old instincts.
In Hueco Mundo, proximity meant danger.
Only after a few seconds did he relax.
He was no longer prey.
Nor predator.
Just a soul.
Half an hour later, he folded both futons.
The movement felt strange—
Familiar, yet distant.
He had not performed such ordinary tasks since his human life.
He stepped outside.
Momo was sweeping the yard.
"Good morning, Tsukishiro-nii!"
"Morning, Momo."
He tapped his cane lightly as he walked.
Three hours later—
They arrived at Tōshirō's home.
What should have been a short walk took far longer.
Sombravida wondered briefly if he was overacting.
But consistency mattered.
"Ah, Momo! Come in!" an elderly voice called warmly.
Tōshirō's grandmother greeted them.
Her spiritual presence was faint—almost nonexistent.
Which explained her stable health.
Those without significant Reiryoku did not suffer hunger, nor spiritual strain.
Sombravida bowed politely.
"My name is Hinamori Tsukishiro. Thank you for lending the futon."
"So you're the new brother," she said kindly. "You may call me Grandma as well."
Tōshirō muttered:
"Call me Tōshirō. Not Shiro."
Sombravida smiled faintly.
"Understood."
They moved to the backyard.
The melon field stretched wide, lush and dense.
Sombravida immediately sensed something important.
Reishi concentration was higher here.
Agricultural land in Rukongai absorbs and accumulates ambient spirit particles. The richer the soil, the faster crops grow.
In Soul Society, plants respond directly to Reishi density.
This field was well-maintained.
Tōshirō explained the work:
"Drive away birds and small animals. Don't step on the vines. Water evenly. Don't overdo it."
Simple.
Sombravida walked the perimeter once.
Memorized layout.
River position.
Water barrel.
Tool storage.
He could see perfectly.
But he mapped it through sound and step-count instead.
He would build a perception-based spatial awareness.
Just like Kaname Tōsen.
They began watering.
Tōshirō carried buckets from the stream.
Sombravida carefully poured from the ladle.
The work was manual.
Slow.
Inefficient.
He mentally calculated angles for a future irrigation trench.
Perhaps a bamboo channel.
Perhaps shallow diversion.
But not yet.
He must not appear abnormal too early.
"Tsukishiro-nii," Tōshirō asked suddenly, "you're going to become a Shinigami too?"
Sombravida paused.
"I don't know."
"Liar," Tōshirō muttered. "You're strong."
Sombravida chuckled.
"If I had to give a reason… it would be to protect my little sister."
Tōshirō scoffed loudly.
"That's embarrassing."
Sombravida ruffled his hair.
"And maybe protect you and Grandma too."
"Hey! Stop that!"
Tōshirō struggled uselessly.
"I'm strong too!"
Sombravida laughed.
"Let's see when you enter the Academy."
"Aaaah! Let go!"
The laughter echoed softly over the melon field.
For a brief moment—
There was no Aizen.
No Hōgyoku.
No past life.
Only sunlight.
And ordinary warmth.
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