When people have nothing to do—especially when they're relaxed—time flies.
Yoshio felt exactly that.
Once he found himself idle, time seemed to race by: blink, a year passed; blink again, another year.
In other words, it had been two years since Baelz performed the atavism experiment.
Over these two years, Yoshio and his two avatars had both progressed well. Angra Mainyu would enter third-stage Resurrección whenever he had time to reorganize his soul; Baelz also underwent periodic blood exchanges to accelerate the atavistic process.
Most notably, that other Black he'd sliced off with the Blade that Rends the Heart back then had now been successfully fused into his shadow.
A shadow is a formless clump of chaos—whatever it attaches to, it imitates. Baelz attached it to his own shadow, so it became Baelz's shadow.
Also, the second Evil nodes—the "The Lascivious"—had borne fruit.
He still hadn't eaten it, choosing to store it.
The next singularity was the "The Defrauder," which, ironically, was harder to collect than the Lascivious.
Food and sex are basic impulses; excessive lust is common. But swindling…
In the Seireitei it might be easy to gather—especially hanging around Aizen, you'd probably hit the cap in two days.
But it wouldn't be so quick in the Wandenreich.
The Wandenreich was a fanatical militarist state. At least from Baelz's perspective, the people around him didn't lie much. The higher-ups—especially among the Sternritter—had their share of liars and cheats, but the rank and file were zealots with vengeance against Shinigami on the brain.
No matter—he still had time.
As for the power granted by the second Evil nodes, he used it to disguise himself via his shadow.
His shadow had come alive due to the soul-mass, unconsciously imitating him.
Once Baelz evolved into an Incomplete One, the two could exchange soul essence.
Baelz would transfer all his leaking soul energy into the shadow, and the shadow would send its overflow into Baelz, forming an internal closed loop.
The reason he paused at this precise moment in time was simple:
Kurosaki Masaki was pregnant…
And about to give birth.
After graduating, Kurosaki Masaki didn't make it to college and moved into the small clinic opened by Kurosaki Isshin.
Ten months ago, she'd conceived.
Ordinarily Shinigami and humans are reproductively isolated, but the Gigai Urahara Kisuke gave Isshin made him truly human, which led to this outcome.
Across the three realms, countless beings were waiting for the child in Masaki's womb to be born.
Yoshio was certainly looking forward to it.
Among the others: Aizen, Urahara Kisuke, Yhwach—maybe even the bald monk in the Soul King Palace was watching.
This family was truly unlucky—before the child was even born, the top dogs of all three worlds had their eyes on them.
Suffice it to say: in the three realms, only the true big shots knew to pay attention to Kurosaki Ichigo. If you didn't, you weren't even qualified to sit at the table.
Yoshio's anticipation wasn't because he wanted to be Ichigo's godfather like Aizen—it was because he planned to use the Blade that Rends the Heart on Ichigo.
With Ichigo's potential, how could Yoshio possibly pass him up?!
And he couldn't wait until Ichigo grew up.
Once Ichigo matured, he'd be much stronger, but his personality would already be set.
Ichigo, as the name implies, embodies protection.
If he sliced him then, wouldn't the split-off become some problem child obsessed with destruction?
So the cut had to be made while Ichigo was still young—an infant.
That way the only difference in the split entity would be sex.
Everything else hadn't yet set; how do you invert what hasn't formed?
Except…
Unlike others he'd cut, Ichigo was under close surveillance by the top brass of all three realms.
Wouldn't appearing near Ichigo get him spotted?
Yoshio's plan was to lure Ichigo to his house, activate the Safehouse ability, and then perform the cut.
Which meant the job fell to Angra.
…
At the hospital.
With the first cries of a newborn, a new life entered the world.
Hearing her child's voice, the pallid Masaki managed a faint smile.
Isshin rushed in from the hall; once he saw mother and child safe, he breathed a sigh of relief—then looked at the child with a complicated gaze.
Outside—where humans couldn't see—Angra and Urahara were there too.
"It transferred."
Angra said slowly, "So it can be passed on to the child through childbirth?"
It reminded Angra of a novel he'd read, Lord of the Mysteries, where ancient gods expelled their extraordinary characteristics through childbirth.
He shook his head, casting off the stray thought.
Urahara had no clue what Angra was thinking; he simply nodded. "Very likely. But for now, it seems perhaps only women can transfer it via delivery."
"That's huge," Angra murmured. "That means this child has true Shinigami blood and carries human, Quincy, and Hollow factors. This…"
"Normally, heterogeneous soul-factor conflict triggers a violent breach of soul-boundaries, ultimately leading to soul suicide. But the four forces in this child are in perfect balance."
When the soul boundary is breached, injecting the perfectly opposing factor can suppress it. For instance, if a Shinigami is hollowfying, inject human and Quincy factors.
Ichigo, however, had all four at once—so if any one tried to break limits, its opposites would restrain it. There'd be no violent breach, no fatal overspeed.
In other words…
This child was a natural transcendental!
Limitless future!
They glanced at Ichigo once more, then vanished.
When Isshin and Masaki brought the baby back to the clinic, they found Angra Mainyu waiting.
"…An-chan?" Masaki asked, puzzled. "What brings you to our home? That's rare."
The Quincy body truly was sturdy—she'd just given birth; aside from initial pallor, she'd already recovered her color.
"I'm not just visiting—I'm moving in for an extended stay," Angra said.
"Eh?!" Isshin, though he'd lost his Shinigami powers, could still see spirits. He balked. "What do you mean, living with us long-term?!"
If Angra lived here, how would he enjoy time alone with Masaki?!
Seeing Isshin's overreaction, Angra said, "If you object, that's fine—then hand me your child. I'll watch him for a while."
They realized Angra had come for Ichigo.
"An-chan… is something wrong with Ichigo?" Masaki asked.
"Don't forget," Angra accepted the nickname with equanimity. "That Hollow didn't behave when it was in you. Now it's in your child—do you think a baby's soul can withstand a Hollow's outburst?"
Masaki started, but Angra continued, "Urahara and I discussed it. I'll stay with you for now so I can act immediately if anything happens."
"At least until the child turns three."
They both grew solemn.
For their child, yes—they should let him move in.
Angra's point was sound: White had gone berserk inside Masaki from time to time. Masaki had to get regular checkups at the Black Cat Bookstore.
"As for Urahara, he can't come out."
The Seireitei was still hunting Kisuke. He was safe hiding at the shop; stepping out risked exposure.
The reasoning was airtight—and Angra had indeed coordinated with Urahara.
"Works for me!" Masaki was already inclined to let him stay; hearing it was for Ichigo, she smiled. "We've got a spare room anyway."
They were touched—Angra disliked the World of the Living. Though he sometimes visited the Black Cat, he spent most of his time in Hueco Mundo. The environment in the living world was too harsh for him—even breathing was uncomfortable without adaptation.
Only weak Hollows liked the living world.
Angra was making this sacrifice purely for Ichigo.
Sensing their goodwill toward him rise, Angra added, "Either put Ichigo in my room, or give me the room next to yours. If something happens, I can reach him fastest."
After a bit of discussion, and with great reluctance, they decided to let Ichigo room with Angra.
New parents, forced to live apart from their newborn as soon as they got home—of course they were unwilling. But safety mattered more.
They'd still have him during the day; only sleep time would be apart.
They set about tidying.
Once everything was in order, Angra, now residing with the Kurosakis, decided to designate the place as his Safehouse.
He'd be here often. If he wanted to do bad things unnoticed, he needed an anti-scrying veil.
…
Late that night, with the Kurosakis asleep, Angra looked at the slumbering baby, activated the Safehouse, setting the scene to show Ichigo in peaceful sleep at all times.
Then, within the Safehouse, Yoshio appeared in the room.
He gazed at the child—who could have imagined this infant would one day influence the workings of all three realms?
Aizen, Yhwach, the monk—they'd noticed Ichigo's potential, yes—but not how far beyond imagination it truly was.
A child of destiny like this—of course Yoshio would make a copy.
He drew the Blade that Rends the Heart and struck Ichigo.
The next instant, an identical infant split off from Ichigo.
A girl, also asleep.
Yoshio nodded, then left the Kurosaki home with the baby girl.
He appeared elsewhere in Karakura Town.
"Mr. Yoshio, what brings you here?"
It was late, but a room's light was still on. A blonde beauty looked up from her book, surprised by Yoshio's reiatsu. Seeing the baby in his arms, she was even more surprised.
"This is…?" Hela asked, puzzled.
"Consider her my child," Yoshio smiled. "But I'm not very free in the Seireitei. I'll have to trouble you to look after her for a while."
"That's no trouble at all." Hela looked at the baby girl. "I love children."
Barragan seemed to hate noisy brats; Hela, being his opposite in temperament, liked children.
So when Yoshio asked her to babysit, she was secretly delighted.
Relieved by her answer, Yoshio noticed Hela's books—teaching certification prep. "Planning to be a teacher?"
Hela nodded. "I need a job in the living world. I'm aiming for a school position."
"Teaching is good," Yoshio approved. "But raising a child—will that affect your reputation?"
"What's the problem?" Hela smiled. "I don't plan to marry or have children in the living world. I don't care what people say."
"Fair enough," Yoshio said. "Have you met Ginjō Kūgo and the others?"
"I have. They arranged my current identity," Hela said. "They invited me to join their group, but I haven't agreed."
Yoshio sweat-dropped. If Hela joined the Fullbringers, that would be a dimensionality reduction strike. Her temperament was opposite Barragan's, but her strength was nearly equal.
"I won't force you. Do as you think best," Yoshio said, preparing to leave. "I'll drop by to see her now and then. Tell me if you two need anything."
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her. But… what's her name?"
That stumped Yoshio.
What should he call her?
He'd never properly named anyone. When naming himself, a powerful impulse made him blurt out "Baelz" and "Angra Mainyu."
But this baby girl was different.
She wasn't an avatar—she was a real person.
"Can't think of one?" Hela looked at him, surprised.
Yoshio rubbed his nose, embarrassed. "I really hadn't thought about it. Give me a second…"
"Kamado… how about Nezuko Kamado?"
"I'm no good at human names—you're asking the wrong person," Hela said. "But if that's the father's choice, then of course it's fine."
"Let's go with Nezuko Kamado for now. It's early; I'll confirm next time I visit."
He practically fled back to his room.
Nezuko Kamado's backstory was that Yoshio had created her; his Safehouse edits depicted him manufacturing the girl.
He was just overly nervous.
Even those with thousand-mile sight who could observe the three realms wouldn't stare at one person 24/7. At most they'd check when something significant happened.
Right now, most attention was on Ichigo. Who would watch Yoshio?
Yoshio knew this, but caution was a habit.
He wasn't yet at the stage where he could afford not to be cautious.
This caution was mainly aimed at Yhwach.
Since Nezuko, like Ichigo, had Quincy power, she might also have an Uncle Zangetsu inside. Not necessarily by that name, but Yhwach's power nonetheless.
So Yhwach might notice her—though Nezuko's internal powers were still weak and might not draw his eye.
Preparation beats negligence.
Learn from Aizen—but not too much. Be cautious early, and even after becoming powerful, don't grow careless, lest you stumble in a gutter.
A true master always keeps a student's heart.