BLEACH: Soul Infiltration — The Color Between Black and White - Clashing Light and Blades

His fingertips were cold. 　The sensation of the ground transmitted through his palm, and Narukami Souga slowly opened his eyes. 　It was night. 　The sky spreading overhead was tinged with an unfamiliar orange hue. Streetlights. The sound of a distant car engine reached his ears, mixed with the rustling of trees swaying in the wind. The faint smell drifting through his nostrils was cool—a mixture of concrete and night dew. 　Narukami Souga pushed himself up on his knees and rose slowly to his feet. 　Where am I? 　His blue-black short hair swayed in the breeze. With transparent, pale blue eyes, Souga surveyed his surroundings. His frame was lean but taut—white shirt, black cardigan, dark jeans. The clothes were the same as before. But the location was completely different. 　An unfamiliar city. An unfamiliar night. 　He tried to trace his memory. What had he been doing just moments ago? 　——An old man was lying on the roadside. 　That much was clear. Souga had rushed over and reached out his hand. He remembered that much. But he couldn't recall the old man's face. Even though he should have been looking straight at it, that part was hazy and white, obscured like fog. Nothing came to mind. 　(Why……?) 　Something stirred deep in his chest. Not quite fear—something deeper. It felt as though a part of his own memory had been cleanly erased. 　He didn't know how to get back. He didn't even know where he was. 　Souga forced down the panic rising in him. Right now, staying calm and assessing the situation came first. 　As he walked, a large park came into view. The sign at the entrance read "Karakura Central Park." Central Park—so this was the heart of the city. There were no people on the benches; the fountain simply raised water quietly into the air. 　Suddenly, Souga noticed something. 　The entire city seemed to be covered in a thin mist. 　But looking closer, it wasn't mist. The outlines of buildings wavered slightly, creating a strange distortion. The air seemed to be creating a moiré pattern. To an ordinary eye, it would just be a night cityscape, but to Souga's eyes, that wavering was oddly distinct. 　(It's not just my imagination……) 　He stopped and checked again. It was still there. A thin wavering that enveloped the entire city. Souga had no idea what it was. 　He sighed and began walking toward the fountain plaza. For now, he had no choice but to find someone. He needed to ask how to get back. 　That was when it happened. 　The air behind him tore open. 　It was less a sound than a sensation. Not something his ears perceived, but something his skin felt—a pressure. 　Souga reflexively spun around. 　——It was huge. 　Its body length easily exceeded four meters. A pure white bone mask clung to its face, and beneath it, there was no human visage. A massive hole gaped in the center of its chest, from which black miasma slowly leaked. Its arms were thick, and each time its feet pressed against the ground, cracks spiderwebbed across the stone pavement. 　Its eyes were fixed on him. 　(What……what is that……!) 　His legs froze. No sound came from his throat. His mind screamed at him to run, but his body wouldn't move at all. Souga could only stand there, meeting the creature's gaze. 　Death. 　That certainty spread through his mind. If that thing got close, it was over. With each step the creature took, the ground trembled. Its massive hand rose. Slowly, toward Souga—— 　The wind was cut vertically. 　The sound of a slash. Then, a moment later, the white mask shattered with a crack. 　The creature's form scattered like mist, growing thin. Its limbs dissolved and vanished, leaving only fragments of the mask hanging in the air before they too disappeared. 　There was nothing. Nothing at all. Where the four-meter creature had been moments before, only the night air remained. 　Souga stood in shock. 　"You alive?" 　A low voice fell from above. 　Looking up, a boy stood on the edge of the fountain. 　Orange hair. Tall—around 183 centimeters. A black coat swayed in the night wind. On his shoulder rested an absurdly massive sword. It looked like a cleaver magnified dozens of times over, its blade length exceeding the boy's own height. Sharp eyes looked straight down at Souga. Eyes without a shred of hesitation. There was something about his entire being—a quiet strength that came from someone who had lived taking combat for granted. 　The boy descended to the ground and approached Souga. 　"Who the hell are you?" 　It sounded like an interrogation. 　"Huh……" 　"Your spiritual pressure is basically zero. So why was a Hollow targeting you?" 　Hollow. The name of that creature, then. Souga repeated the word in his mind. 　"Wait, I didn't……" 　"Where did you come from?" 　"I don't know." 　"I asked who you are." 　"I told you I don't know!" 　His voice had gotten louder. He was surprised at himself. But being interrogated like a suspect right after being saved—honestly, it got under his skin. 　Ichigo's eyebrows twitched slightly. 　"……You're suspicious." 　"I'm not suspicious. I don't understand what's happening either. I don't know where this place is, and I don't know why that creature was targeting me!" 　After he finished speaking, Souga felt a twinge of regret. He hadn't meant to yell. But his body had reacted first. Just as he couldn't help but aid someone in trouble, his body responded when treated unfairly. It was a bad habit of his. 　Ichigo crossed his arms. His expression showed distrust. 　Just then, another set of footsteps approached. 　"Ichigo. What's the situation?" 　A calm voice. 　Souga turned around. Short purple hair. A small frame, around 158 centimeters. Pale purple eyes that revealed no emotion as they observed Souga. In her hand was a device that looked like an old-model cell phone. She wore a black shihakusho—a garment like a kimono and hakama—and carried a small sword at her waist. 　The girl slowly circled Souga while checking the device's screen, her expression blank. 　"Spiritual pressure, barely measurable……" 　"Right? Yet the Hollow went straight for him." 　"It's contradictory." 　The two of them were talking with Souga sandwiched between them. He felt left out, a bit uncomfortable. 　"Um……what are you investigating with that device?" 　"A Denreishinki." 　The girl answered without taking her eyes off the device. Denreishinki. He'd never heard that name before. 　"It's a device Shinigami use in the living world. We use it to sense spiritual reactions and communicate with the Soul Society." 　Soul Society. Living world. Shinigami. 　Souga arranged the information in his mind. Every word was new to him. 　"……Shinigami?" 　"That's right." 　Ichigo turned toward Souga. His eyes still held suspicion. But it seemed he'd decided to explain. 　"We're Shinigami. What was targeting you just now was a Hollow—a soul that rotted after death and became a monster. Defeating these things is one of our jobs." 　"And guiding lost souls to their proper place. It's called Soul Burial." 　The girl added the clarification. Souga listened to her words in a daze while recalling the creature he'd seen. The white mask. The hollow in its chest. He couldn't believe that had been a human soul. But the fact that it had vanished before his eyes was undeniable. 　"This is Karakura Town—a special place where the boundary between the living world and the spirit world is thin. Hollow appearances here are 40 times more frequent than normal locations." 　"40 times……" 　"That's why Ichigo is stationed here." 　Souga looked around. That wavering he'd felt across the entire city earlier. Maybe that was what a thin boundary looked like. 　"So why are you here?" 　Ichigo's voice sharpened again. 　"……I don't know." 　Souga answered honestly. 　"I found an old man collapsed on the roadside and tried to help him. Then I realized I was here. I can't remember the old man's face. I don't know how to get back." 　Ichigo clicked his tongue. His expression said he didn't believe a word of it. 　"Ichigo." 　Rukia cut in quietly. 　"Leaving him alone in this state is dangerous. His spiritual pressure is nearly zero, yet a Hollow targeted him. There's a possibility another will appear." 　"……But we can't trust someone——" 　"Just for tonight. Let him stay at your place." 　Ichigo's eyebrows shot up. 　"What? My place?" 　"There's no other option." 　Listening to their exchange, Souga felt a little relief. This girl was level-headed. She didn't act on emotion; she judged logically. Souga believed that kind of person was most trustworthy. 　Ichigo was silent for a while. Then he let out a long sigh. 　"……One night only. Beyond that, I don't know." 　He didn't look at Souga. 　＊　Kurosaki Clinic. 　About a ten-minute walk from the station, the small building stood. The first floor was a medical office; the second floor was living quarters, apparently. Souga was led into a room on the second floor. 　"We'll talk more tomorrow. Keep quiet tonight." 　With that, Ichigo left the room. The sound of the door closing. Footsteps receding down the hallway. 　The room had a small bed and a desk. On the desk sat a half-empty sports drink. It was clearly someone's room. Souga sat on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. 　There was no way he could sleep. 　He couldn't remember the old man's face. He didn't understand why he was here. He didn't know how to get back. Nothing—not a single answer. 　(……What am I supposed to do?) 　Looking out the window, the night cityscape of Karakura Town spread before him. Streetlights lined the streets, and in the distance, the silhouette of what looked like a high school was visible. An ordinary provincial city's night. But to Souga's eyes, that thin wavering that enveloped the entire city was still visible. 　He recalled Rukia's words. A city where the boundary between the living world and the spirit world was thin. Shinigami. Hollow. Soul Burial. 　It was unbelievable, yet it was all real. That white-masked creature had truly existed, and Ichigo's sword had truly shattered its mask. Souga had witnessed it with his own eyes. 　He sighed and stretched his legs out on the floor. 　(……I'll sleep for now, at least.) 　But there was no drowsiness. 　After a while, Souga found himself staring blankly at his own hand. 　Thin fingers extending from the white shirt's sleeve. Skin so pale it seemed transparent. Nothing unusual about it—just an ordinary hand. 　But. 　Something moved at his fingertips. 　At first, he thought he'd imagined it. Maybe it was just light reflecting. He stared intently again. 　It was there. 　A faint, pale blue light was seeping from his fingertips. 　Souga held his breath. 　It wasn't the color of a Shinigami's spiritual power. The light emanating from Ichigo's body had been a deep blue-violet. The reactions shown on Rukia's device had been a similar hue. But the light glowing from Souga's fingertips now was different. Much fainter, pale blue. 　It was nothing like the black-red miasma the Hollow had emitted. 　It was a color he'd never seen before. 　He tried to touch it. When he gently touched his fingertips with his other hand, the light vanished. It lit up again. Vanished. Lit up again. He couldn't control it. He didn't even know if he was producing it himself. It simply existed there, quietly. 　(……What is this?) 　He didn't understand. He understood nothing. 　Who am I? Why did I come here? What was that old man? What is this light? 　The more questions accumulated, the heavier his chest became. Anxiety and loneliness spread slowly, seeping through him. No one had the answers. Neither Ichigo nor Rukia knew Souga's true nature. Souga himself didn't know. 　That was what frightened him most. 　The light still wavered gently at his fingertips. 　Souga slowly closed his eyes. The answers lay ahead, still waiting.

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Episode 1

Name: BLEACH: Soul Infiltration — The Color Between Black and White
Author: Novelia

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