Where… am I?
Kurotsuki Renya stood in a narrow, dimly-lit alleyway. A cold, grey sky loomed overhead, casting a lifeless pallor over the crumbling buildings flanking both sides of the street. The walls were cracked and scarred, the air thick with dust and a suffocating sense of despair.
Not far ahead, a frail figure lay slumped in a corner — emaciated, lifeless, eyes dull and vacant. It resembled a dried husk more than a person.
Are they… dead?
Renya's memory flickered. He remembered a sudden collapse of the house he'd been in. A monstrous figure had torn through the wall — massive, grotesque, with a mask covering its face. It raised a thick, clawed arm and brought it crashing down on him. Everything went black after that.
And now I'm… here?
Renya glanced down at his body. He was shorter now — no more than eleven years old. His arms were thin, his hands smaller, softer. He moved toward a stagnant puddle nearby and crouched beside it. In the rippling surface, a new face stared back at him — youthful, pale, with short, jet-black hair and deep violet eyes. His lips were slightly downturned, and his expression unfamiliar.
So… I've become someone else.
Letting out a breath, Renya stood and quickly decided that staying in this ominous place wasn't a good idea.
As he turned to leave the alley, a sudden movement startled him — an old man appeared at a nearby window. His face was deeply wrinkled, his eyes hollow, and what few strands of hair he had clung to his scalp like dying roots. The man stared at Renya silently before disappearing back into the shadows.
Renya shivered. There was something deeply unsettling about those eyes — as if all meaning had drained from them long ago.
He quickened his pace, turning a corner into a slightly wider street. An open lot stretched ahead, bordered by a half-collapsed structure. Two men stood in front of it.
One was tall and broad, with a scar trailing down his cheek. The other was younger, leaner, holding a rusted katana and bearing a twisted grin.
As soon as they spotted Renya, the younger man sneered.
"Well, well… didn't expect to find fresh soul fodder today."
The scarred man chuckled, licking his lips. "He's yours, but I want half the spirit energy once you're done."
"Fair trade," the younger man said with a gleam in his eyes, stepping forward while lazily twirling his blade.
Renya's blood ran cold.
In his former body, maybe he could've put up a fight. But now — just a child in a strange place with no weapon, no strength — he had no chance. He turned and bolted.
"Run, little soul," the young man laughed behind him. "Makes it more fun."
Renya dashed down a narrow passage, slipping between sagging wooden homes, stumbling over debris and rubble. He turned corner after corner, desperately trying to lose his pursuer.
But no matter how far he ran, the presence followed. Glancing back, he saw the young man still on his trail, blade drawn, eyes filled with excitement.
His legs burned, lungs heaving. He had barely covered another thirty meters when his strength gave out. The youth caught up and kicked him hard in the back, sending Renya sprawling to the ground.
"End of the road, kid."
Renya flipped onto his back, gasping. "I didn't do anything to you! Why are you attacking me?!"
The man snorted. "This is the 79th District of South Rukongai — Kusajishi. You don't need a reason to kill here."
He raised his blade high, expression alight with bloodlust.
Renya struggled beneath the man's boot, trying to wriggle free — but his body was too weak. The katana gleamed above him, reflecting the pale sky.
He shut his eyes tightly, bracing for the strike…
But it never came.
CLANG!
A burst of pressure knocked the attacker back. Several figures dropped down between them and Renya — a small group of teenagers, each armed with makeshift weapons. Leading them was a boy with long, wild crimson hair and a wooden sword slung over his shoulder. His eyes burned with defiance.
Beside him stood two boys and two girls, all with the same hardened look — street-toughened souls used to surviving in this lawless district.
The attacker scowled. "That brat came from my area. Don't stick your noses in where they don't belong."
The red-haired boy narrowed his eyes. "Doesn't matter where he came from. If he's in our district — Inuzuri, the 78th — you don't touch him."
A short girl beside him stepped forward. "Leave. Now."
The others joined in, shouting in unison, "Get out!"
Seeing he was outnumbered — and recognizing the red-haired boy — the attacker grimaced, spat on the ground, and retreated into the shadows.
The group exhaled in relief.
The short girl turned to Renya, helping him sit up. "Are you okay, little brother?"
Renya nodded, still catching his breath. "Yeah… thanks."
The red-haired boy clapped a hand on his shoulder. "We're not heroes. We just don't let bastards from Kusajishi bully people in our turf."
Renya blinked. "Kusajishi… Inuzuri… Where exactly is this place?"
The red-haired boy studied him for a moment. "You're a new soul, huh?"
"A new… soul?"
"Yeah. You're dead, kid," the boy said bluntly. "This is the Soul Society — specifically, South Rukongai. That place you were almost killed in? 79th District: Kusajishi. This here is District 78: Inuzuri."
Soul Society?
Renya's eyes widened. No way… is this… Bleach?
The short girl stepped in again, noticing his stunned look. "Don't worry. Kusajishi scum don't usually come this far into Inuzuri. You're safe with us now."
The red-haired boy nodded. "We may be orphans and nobodies, but we stick together. No one messes with us."
Renya felt something stir — gratitude, confusion, and a strange sense of déjà vu.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "Truly."
The girl smiled. "What's your name?"
"My name is… Kurotsuki Renya."
"Kurotsuki Renya," she repeated thoughtfully. "Nice to meet you. I'm Rukia."
Renya's eyes shot wide.
"And I'm Renji," the red-haired boy added with a grin.
Renji… Rukia… Inuzuri…
The names, the districts, the death, the monster — it all clicked.
Renya stared at them, heart pounding.
I've died… and reincarnated into the world of Bleach.