"You mean… you want to work as a caregiver at our orphanage?"
Kitayama Tsubaki stared at the tall, bright-eyed young man before her, disbelief plain in her voice. She simply could not reconcile the image in front of her a student from a national university with the exhausting, underpaid work of tending to orphans and the elderly. The orphanage's staff were usually retirees or middle-aged applicants with few alternatives. Young people rarely lasted.
The young man in question was naturally Ito Makoto. The reason Mrs. Kitayama felt no suspicion was simple he had subtly used a memory-modification technique, implanting a harmless and logical background into her cognition.
"You're hoping to gain work experience during your vacation, aren't you?" she said, wearing an expression that suggested she had already seen through him.
Ito Makoto cooperatively revealed a surprised smile.
"Please, Mrs. Kitayama."
Soon after, she led him into a large room filled with children a hybrid between classroom and playground and clapped her hands.
"Children, this big brother will be your caregiver from now on."
"You can call him Brother Ito."
At once, most of the children scrambled out from slides and toy corners, crowding around him with bright, trusting eyes.
"Hello, Brother Ito~!"
"Brother Ito~!"
Only one child remained apart.
Ginjo Kūgo sat huddled in a corner. He lifted his head lazily then froze. The new caregiver was the same person who had saved him from a Hollow not long ago.
Ito Makoto met his gaze and smiled faintly.
That night, at Okamoto Burger Shop
Ito Makoto and Ginjo Kūgo sat across from each other, each holding a signature beef burger. The rich aroma of grilled meat filled the air. For Ito Makoto, this was his first time truly eating Human World cuisine within a Gigai. Compared to the sparse fare of Soul Society, the flavor was almost overwhelming.
Juices burst between his teeth. He had to admit it was excellent.
"Makoto-Nii," Ginjo asked between bites, eyes wide with curiosity, "why can everyone see you now?"
In his understanding, Ito Makoto had been like a ghost before visible only to him. Yet now he appeared completely human.
"This is called a Gigai," Ito Makoto explained, taking another large bite. "When I enter it, ordinary humans can see me. I can also interact with the physical world eat, drink, work."
They finished quickly. Ito Makoto left payment on the table using his recently received advance salary and departed with Ginjo.
Moments later, Okamoto Erika approached to clear the table. She blinked when she noticed the money left behind.
It was double the required amount.
"Customer! You paid too much!"
She hurried outside, but the street was already empty.
"Eh?"
…
Not far away, Ito Makoto led Ginjo to an abandoned, half-constructed building. Concrete pillars rose like skeleton ribs, and the corridor lay in darkness.
With a casual flick of his wrist, spiritual particles gathered in his palm.
"Hadō #31 Shakkahō."
A crimson orb formed, then hovered midair at his command, bathing the corridor in steady light.
Ginjo's eyes sparkled.
"Want to learn?" Ito Makoto asked lightly. "I'll teach you."
"Mm-hmm!"
Without warning
Bang!
Ito Makoto's Gigai collapsed backward onto the floor with a dull thud.
His Shinigami soul emerged in a flash of white, stepping forward as the spiritual body took dominance. The Shakkahō continued to float above them.
"To learn Kidō," Ito Makoto said calmly, "you must first become a Shinigami."
Before Ginjo could react, Ito Makoto drew his Zanpakutō and drove the blade into his own chest.
"Makoto-Nii?!"
Ginjo's eyes widened in horror.
Then dizziness overtook him.
A second later, a translucent figure separated from his body a soul identical to himself. At first clad in white, the garments darkened from the chest downward, turning pitch black until a full Shinigami-style uniform formed around him.
Ito Makoto had transferred a minute fraction of his own spiritual pressure less than one percent into Ginjo's soul. In the spirit-particle-dense environment of Soul Society, he would recover the loss easily. But to a seven-year-old child, even that trace was monumental.
Within Ito Makoto's perception, Ginjo's spiritual network shifted white threads now tinged with red, vitality awakened.
According to the natural flow of fate, nearly a century later, Ginjo Kūgo would stand before Kurosaki Ichigo as a Soul King Candidate bearing Shinigami, Hollow, and Fullbring powers in trinity. But at this point in time, he possessed only latent Hollow influence and fragments of the Soul King's essence. His Shinigami power had yet to awaken.
Ito Makoto had no intention of waiting for destiny to unfold.
Just as Rukia Kuchiki had once bestowed power upon Ichigo, Ito Makoto had accelerated Ginjo's path.
From behind him, Ito Makoto produced a standard Asauchi taken from the Hueco Mundo expeditionary force and handed it over.
Ginjo, not being an official member of the Gotei 13, had never undergone Asauchi selection in Seireitei. This blade would have to suffice.
"For the next month," Ito Makoto said evenly, "I will teach you Kidō and Zanjutsu. How much you gain depends on your effort."
Ginjo examined the blade with awe.
"Am I a ghost like you now, Makoto-Nii?"
Ito Makoto sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead.
"I am a Shinigami, not a ghost."
His expression hardened.
"I cannot remain by your side forever. If a Hollow comes again and you lack strength, you may not even understand how you died."
Ginjo did not cry. He did not retreat.
Instead, determination surfaced in his small face far older than his years.
"I understand, Makoto-Nii. Let's begin."
Ito Makoto smiled faintly.
"Good. I'm coming. Your task is simple force me back with your sword."
He moved.
In a blur, he closed the distance, his right hand extended like iron pincers.
Ginjo barely reacted before he was lifted off the ground by one hand, dangling helplessly.
Ito Makoto set him down with a dissatisfied click of his tongue.
"Why didn't you draw your blade? Do you think you can defeat me barehanded?"
"Draw your sword!"
After repeated urging, Ginjo finally struggled to unsheathe the Asauchi nearly as tall as he was. He gripped it with effort, arms trembling under its weight.
Seeing this, Ito Makoto advanced again this time empty-handed, testing him once more.
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