The Kurosaki kitchen was warm, filled with the aroma of miso soup and grilled fish—a scene of domestic normalcy that starkly contrasted with the void and the cosmic pact that now defined Ichigo's existence.
He was seated at the table, picking at his food, but his attention was caught by the small television flickering with international news.
There were many strange things that happened.
Ichigo, despite having never encountered this technology or these names in his previous life, immediately felt a cold certainty deep in his gut.
'This kind of thing…'
He thought, pushing a bit of rice around his bowl.
'It has to be the old man. He said he was going to put some 'interesting' things in my universe.'
He frowned, hoping his new things wouldn't be too impactful in his life.
"Hopefully, it doesn't affect my life,"
He muttered under his breath, lifting a spoon of soup toward his mouth.
It was precisely then that the universe decided to laugh in his face.
Masaki Kurosaki, who had been bustling happily at the counter, suddenly answered her ringing flip phone. Her expression instantly softened into one of genuine, affectionate longing.
"Dad, what is it?"
Ichigo froze, the spoon inches from his lips, and almost choked on his breath. Dad? Masaki's father, the original King of the Quincy, was supposed to be a distant, ancient threat, not a person she casually chatted with.
Masaki's smile widened, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
"You want to see your grandchildren? Oh, we've already planned to relocate to your house in America a few weeks from now, actually. Yes, of course! We wouldn't miss it. They want to live with their grandpa!"
She hung up, a dreamy look of contentment on her face, completely unaware of the spiritual crisis she had just caused her son.
Ichigo placed his spoon down with a soft clink and fixed her with an intensely bewildered gaze.
"Mom, who were you talking to just now?"
He asked, needing to confirm the terrifying possibilities whirling in his head.
Masaki turned to him, her eyes full of warmth.
"Oh, that was your Grandpa. You might not remember him, Ichigo-chan, because you were just months old the last time he came to visit. His name is… Juha Bach. Ringing any bells?"
The name struck Ichigo with the force of a thousand spiritual blasts.
His face went instantly pale, the warmth of the kitchen leaching away. Juha Bach or Yhwach—should not be appearing this early in his life, and certainly not as a doting, phone-calling grandfather!
And what was this about a trip to America? In his former life, the Kurosakis were staunchly based in Karakura Town.
Across the room, Kurosaki Isshin , who had been quietly reading a newspaper, lowered it just enough to reveal a look of deep, familiar reluctance.
"Can't we refuse?"
Isshin mumbled, his tone sounding less like a former Soul Reaper captain and more like a perpetually worried son-in-law.
Masaki chuckled, waving away his concern.
"No can do, dear. Besides, you don't have to worry about being scolded by him anymore. He has forgiven you since we gave him three lovely grandchildren, you know."
She paused, then added in a casual, matter-of-fact tone that made Ichigo's jaw drop:
"And as for your work as a Shinigami, he is perfectly alright with it… for now… I think…"
Ichigo simply blinked. His mother had just casually discussed his father's true, secret profession in front of him, a little kid!
The secrecy, the mystery, the entire structure of his former life was crumbling with every word.
'What the hell… What did the old man do to my world!'
He screamed internally.
He reviewed the facts:
The fundamental truth of his mother's near-death—the presence of the Grand Fisher—still existed, meaning the timeline was still anchored to Bleach.
However, his mother retained her Quincy powers, as the absorption event (Yhwach's power withdrawal) had clearly been avoided or altered. She would have easily killed the Hollow had he not intervened.
His ultimate enemy, Yhwach (Juha Bach), was now an active, apparently benign, part of the family dynamic.
Everything had been changed at a breakneck pace, creating a bizarre, amalgamated reality. The path of his former life was utterly unrecognizable.
'Something was still the same, but something wasn't,'
Ichigo mused, his mind racing to adapt.
'If I go to New York, will I still cross paths with Uryū, Chad, and Orihime? Will my core friends still be in my life?'
The changes were exhilarating and terrifying. He was no longer just the Substitute Shinigami—he was the linchpin in a reality blended by a cosmic scriptwriter.