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Six days had passed in a flash.
In a quiet alleyway, bathed in the golden warmth of afternoon light, a boy walked with easy swagger, dressed in flamboyant clothes and a playful mask. It was Su Li, cotton candy in hand, enjoying the moment with lighthearted indulgence. Today marked the final day of his "internship with the team," and tomorrow he'd return to Soul Society, leaving behind the fleeting tastes and experiences of the Human World. As he stared at the marshmallows slowly dissolving on his tongue, he felt a twinge of reluctance. "Time went by too fast," he muttered, thinking back over the past few days that had slipped through his fingers. He hadn't had nearly enough fun, and now it was already time to return.
Back when he was still in spirit form, human food had been tasteless illusions—potato chips, soda, all of it just visual distractions. Only after visiting Urahara's shop and securing a few Gigai had he truly been able to experience flavor for the first time, and by then, time was already running short. Still, at least he'd managed to attend the autumn festival this morning, which offered some small sense of closure. "There'll be more chances in the future," he told himself half-heartedly, but he didn't quite believe it.
Just then, the faintest sound pricked his ear, and his relaxed pace halted. Something was off. He turned silently and headed toward the disturbance.
Around the corner, down a shadowy alleyway, chaos was unfolding. A blood-soaked Shinigami with a youthful, panicked face screamed into a damaged communicator, his voice hoarse and broken. "Vice Captain Matsumoto! Can you hear me?! Captain Su Li!" His hands shook as he tried to get a response from the shattered Denreishinki, but no reply came. Behind him huddled five small children in bright yellow school caps—their faces pale, their souls unprotected. They were Wholes, frightened and clinging to one another, surrounded by spiritual pressure far too heavy for their young forms to endure.
Standing before them was a massive Hollow, its twisted mask grinning with grotesque hunger. A gaping void in its chest pulsed faintly, glowing with malevolence. It drooled openly, towering over the buildings around it, eyes shining with a sickly green light. "Hee hee... so many little snacks today... looks like my lucky day," it hissed, its spiritual weight thick and oppressive, a testament to the many souls it had already devoured.
The young Shinigami, trembling and wounded, gritted his teeth. Blood poured freely from his arm, staining the grip of his ZanpakutĹŤ. He was barely able to stand, clearly at the edge of collapse. "Why now... damn it, why is this thing broken now?!" he choked, still pounding the communicator with trembling fingers, but the device was beyond salvaging.
The Hollow chuckled, its grin widening. "Hee hee... fear... I love that flavor. Terror and spirit—it makes the soul taste so much sweeter." Its claw reached forward, slowly curling toward its prey.
Snapping upright, the Shinigami raised his sword and shouted, "Don't even think about it!" He slashed with all the strength he had left, but the Hollow casually batted the weapon aside. "Tch... You call yourself a Shinigami? That sword's barely a toothpick. Who are you planning to scare with that?" it sneered. With a single brutal swipe, the Hollow's claws slashed across the boy's shoulder, ripping through skin and muscle. Blood spattered the ground, and the young Shinigami stumbled back, nearly toppling over. Still, he gritted his teeth and reached for his blade again.
Behind him, the frightened children cried softly. "Brother... I'm scared..." "Mom... please help..." Their helpless whimpers pierced through the pain, and the boy turned toward them, his breath ragged. He could barely keep his eyes open. His limbs were numb, but he stood—trembling, swaying—his Zanpakutō clenched in a fading grip. He stood not because he believed he could win, but because he was a Shinigami. Protect the Wholes. Purify the Hollow. No matter what.
Then, a voice drifted into the alley, light and casual. "Hey... what are you guys doing?" A boy in bright floral pants and a comical mask stood at the entrance, chewing marshmallow, seemingly unfazed by the pressure in the air. The wounded Shinigami's eyes widened. A spiritually aware human? Bad timing. He couldn't protect the kids, and now a civilian was going to die too. The thought sent panic racing through his chest. "Get out of here!" he roared. "Take the kids and run! I'll hold it off!"
Without waiting for a reply, he rushed the Hollow again, limping but determined. The Hollow laughed. "Yo ho ho... courage? That's the flavor I hate the most!" With one swipe, the Hollow sent him flying. His body slammed into the far wall, blood trailing like ribbons in the air. He hit the ground hard, barely conscious.
"Brother... don't die..." one child whimpered, crawling to his side. Another, through tears, picked up a small stone and hurled it at the Hollow with all their might. It struck its mask harmlessly, earning a shallow scratch. The Hollow chuckled, unbothered. "Hee hee... dinner's ready. My little appetizers, I'm going to enjoy every bite."
The Shinigami could no longer move. His vision was failing. Blood ran from his mouth as he tried to raise a hand. "Don't go near it... please... you'll die..." he whispered weakly as the masked boy stepped forward, casual and unafraid.
He stretched out his hand, then asked simply, "Are you the food?"
With a sudden flash of motion, the boy's leg arced upward, and with a single kick, the Hollow's upper half vaporized into dust. The alley fell silent.
The children stared in stunned silence. Even the air had stopped moving.
Turning calmly, Su Li waved to the kids. "Come here." They hesitated, then shuffled forward, still shaking. He handed them what remained of his marshmallows. "One each. If there's not enough, share." The children took them carefully, their fear fading slightly as they focused on the candy. Soon, the alley was filled with the gentle sound of chewing.
Then, in the blink of an eye, the boy split into two.
One Su Li deflated instantly like a punctured balloon. The other remained—wearing a white captain's haori.
The wounded Shinigami blinked up at him, eyes wide, heart pounding.
"Captain Su Li...!"
And finally, for the first time that day, he felt safe.
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