Kurosaki Ichigo snapped, "Hey, Uryu! Are you looking for a fight?"
Ishida Uryu pushed his glasses up. "Hehe, I'm just telling the truth."
Zaraki Kenpachi scoffed. "So this is one of those travel disasters? Boring. What's the point of watching something like this?"
Rukia Kuchiki frowned. "Ichigo and his mother… are we trapped here just to watch his childhood memories?"
Sado Yasutora spoke calmly. "It must be more than that. This power feels deliberate—like it has a purpose. Let's keep watching."
The images on the screen flickered.
"Hehe, I'm sorry," Ichigo's young voice echoed, "but I can't. Before I beat Tatsuki, I have to train for a day."
"I can't let you walk by the road alone," his mother said gently.
"Recently I got stronger," little Ichigo replied proudly.
"Alright then, let's go."
She smiled softly and walked ahead of him. "Mom, can I hold your hand?" he asked shyly.
Turning back, she smiled and reached out. "Of course."
Ichigo's tiny hand slipped into hers, and he grinned, his small face glowing with joy.
That warmth spread through everyone watching.
Inoue Orihime clasped her hands together. "Kurosaki-kun's mother is so gentle… I'm really envious."
Ichigo's expression softened with the same distant smile, lost in memory. Yet he knew what came next—the memory that scarred him forever. Fear crept back across his face.
The screen shifted again. The rain grew heavier, the world a blur of gray. Along the riverside road, a small figure in a yellow raincoat walked beside his mother, who held the pink umbrella steady against the wind.
Suddenly, Ichigo stopped and pointed. "Eh? That girl…"
A little girl in a cloak stood near the riverbank. After a few seconds, she stepped directly into the rushing water.
"Wait! Don't go there!" Ichigo shouted and ran toward her.
"—Ichigo?" His mother turned, eyes widening as she saw him sprinting toward the river. Panic seized her voice. "Don't! Ichigo!"
But from her view, there was no one near the river at all.
Aizen's eyes narrowed as he watched the girl. The corner of his mouth curved faintly.
Renji murmured, "That girl… she's a spirit, isn't she? Trying to lure Ichigo in?"
Byakuya Kuchiki observed quietly. "To see Hollow even as a child… interesting."
Ichimaru Gin tilted his head. "A mere human able to perceive Hollows before becoming a Substitute Shinigami. His spirit pressure must have been extraordinary even then."
Kurotsuchi Mayuri chuckled darkly. "Fascinating. A boy who can see what his mother cannot. His lineage must be remarkable. This child could make a fine research subject, hehe."
The image flickered again. The cloaked girl vanished the moment Ichigo reached out to grab her.
A deafening roar filled the air as a train thundered past on nearby tracks. Ichigo's mother threw herself over him just as a flash of steel streaked by. Her pink umbrella spun away and landed in the mud.
When the rain cleared, Ichigo lay trembling beneath his mother's body. Blood spread in a red river across the road.
The sight silenced everyone.
Kyoraku Shunsui spoke gravely. "A Hollow that lures those who can see spirits… only to devour them."
Ukitake Jūshirō sighed. "How tragic—to lose a mother at such a young age."
Rukia's voice was quiet. "So that's what Ichigo went through… no wonder his eyes carry such pain."
She remembered Shiba Kaien impaling himself on her Zanpakutō to free himself from a Hollow's control. That wound had never healed inside her.
Ichigo's fists clenched. His voice trembled with rage. "Damn it… if it weren't for me… maybe Mom would still be alive. I'm the one who killed her!"
Orihime's eyes filled with tears. "Kurosaki-kun, please don't say that! You're not alone anymore. You have us."
Shiba Ganju's tone hardened. "I had an older brother I respected more than anyone. He didn't die by a Hollow's hand—but by the hands of the Shinigami."
The words struck the air like a blade. Both Ukitake and Rukia froze, guilt flashing in their eyes. They knew exactly who he meant—Shiba Kaien.
The screen continued to play. Ichigo struggled to crawl out from beneath his mother. Her back was torn open, blood pooling beneath her motionless body.
"Mom… please…" He pushed at her shoulders, calling her name again and again. There was no response.
Tears streamed down his face, merging with the rain. He cried her name until his voice broke.
Time passed. The boy who once smiled brightly by his mother's side became silent and withdrawn. He stopped attending school.
Day after day, he could be seen by the same riverbank, the one where she died—searching, waiting, hoping. He stood there from morning until night, staring into the water.
The scene faded to the portrait of his mother, Masaki Kurosaki—her gentle smile frozen forever.
The screen stopped. Silence filled the room.
Even the loud-mouthed Ganju fell quiet, his face soft with sympathy.
Byakuya Kuchiki's gaze lowered, memories surfacing—his wife Hisana's final smile, her fading warmth, her voice asking him to find Rukia.
Abarai Renji and Rukia both thought of their own lonely childhoods in Rukongai, two orphans clinging to each other in a world without family.
That sorrowful image rekindled everyone's buried grief.
Even Zaraki Kenpachi's wild eyes dimmed slightly. "Parents, huh? Tch. I wouldn't know. I came up in the dark—alone. All I ever knew was killing."
The heavy silence lingered as the rain on the screen slowed to a drizzle, the echo of a child's cry fading into memory.