Chapter Text
Rori wakes up dizzy, delirious and absolutely lost.
What had they just been doing? Why can't they remember how they got here?
And why can't they look away from the absolutely awesome sword that guy is holding?
It takes them a while to piece together their current situation.
They're a ghost, haunting a dojo. At least, that what it seems like.
They are surrounded by martial artists, all wearing thick layered clothing Rori can only compare to a karate gi. Majority wear white with red or blue lining, and the people who seem to be the instructors are in black.
"Uh... Where the fuck am I?" Rori addresses the room at large.
No one reacts to their questions, to their hands waving in faces, to the eventual frustrated yelling. Nor do they react when Rori goes to shove the man who is lecturing, and phases through him. No one bats an eye as they walk around, shoving their hands through everyone's faces, just to be sure.
"This is so weird." They murmur to themselves when phasing through the floor and walls proves impossible.
So, they wait, eyes searching for answers, but mostly staying on that one guy with the cool sword. They all have swords, but that one is definitely the coolest.
I want it.
But, alas, they cannot have it. Such is the curse of being an incorporeal ghost.
Eventually, the session ends and the students are excused. Rori follows them out to find themselves in a long, high-ceilinged hallway, with seemingly endless doors releasing multitudes of students.
It's overwhelming, and desperate to cling to any kind of familiarity, they dart over to Cool Sword Guy and proceed to follow him.
This effort proves fruitful when he leads them out an exit and into the world. The view is... foreign.
Suddenly, escaping and exploring feels far too daunting a task for Rori, and they excuse the hesitation as a side effect of recently finding out they're a ghost.
They stick close to Cool Sword Guy, and pray for answers.
"What have you got next?"
"Kido, with Yamashita-sensei."
"Agh! How come I have the written exam first day of the week and you get to practice fireballs all day?"
It seems this is, in fact, a school. But what kind of school teaches martial arts, pyromancy, and requires completing written tests? Just what kind of fucked up place is this? I mean, for fuck's sake, these teenagers all have swords!
Though the fireballs thing is probably slang.
It's not slang. They shot real fucking fireballs from their god damn bare hands.
Rori is exhausted by the end of the day, after following Cool Sword Man - who is apparently named Shin - to a magic class, a poetry class, and some sort of history class.
It's there that the ball finally drops.
Words in Shin's textbook stick out to them like a sore thumb.
Shinigami.
Zanpakutō.
Gotei Thirteen.
Soul Society.
Seireitei.
"Hooooo-ly fuUCK!"
Bleach. This is Bleach, the anime, the manga, the fictional fucking drawing. And I'm here chilling in the god damn land of the dead.
Wait. How does one become a ghost that no one can see when everyone else is already a ghost that everyone can see?
Hang on. Wait, that doesn't make sens-
Rori knows they would be hyperventilating if they had lungs. But they don't. They don't gasp for breath; they don't wipe away tears or blow their nose.
They stare at Shin and his classmates, and see them in an entirely new light.
These aren't just alien uni students taking karate and magic as electives, this is the Shinigami Academy that produces Shinigami that work at the Seireitei where Rukia gets saved by Ichigo. Where ALL the shit happens.
Where the thirteen captains and their lieutenants run a government and a military force that oversees Earth and the Soul Society.
Rori follows Shin to his classes on automatic and doesn't even realise the day is over until they walk into the dorm. They stare at Shin - at the sword he diligently carries with him everywhere, when others only take it when necessary - and wonders why you? Why should I follow you when there is a world of familiarity out there now?
Why shouldn't I go find Rukia and follow her instead? You're just some random nobody who wasn't important enough to be in an episode. Your sword isn't even that cool...
Overwhelming sadness.
You're nobody.
Like me. A ghost not even important enough to be seen.
Rori feels guilt and remorse and wishes they could cry.
Rori stays.