Bleach: Forge Your Fragmented Soul (FYFS)

Chapter Three: New Waves (Part Two)

Masuo gritted his teeth, forcing his legs to move. "Karin!" he shouted, running toward the house. He didn't have a plan-how could he fight something he couldn't even see?-but he couldn't just stand there.

As he got closer, his eyes caught something else-Ichigo. He was standing near the hole in the house, still in his school uniform. His arms were pulled back unnaturally, as though they were tied behind him. His face was tense, his eyes fixed on Karin, but he wasn't moving.

"What are you doing, Kurosaki?" Masuo called out, his voice sharp with urgency. "Help her!"

Ichigo didn't answer. His body didn't even flinch. Masuo's frustration turned to confusion as he slowed his approach, his eyes narrowing. Then, he saw it-just barely.

Next to Ichigo, a figure hovered. It was faint, like a projection struggling to come into focus, but Masuo could make out enough to chill him to his core. The figure was small, petite-a woman dressed in an all-black hakama, tied with a white belt. A katana hung at her side, its hilt gleaming faintly. Her face was hard to discern, her features blurred and transparent, but there was no mistaking her presence.

"What the hell...?" Masuo whispered, his heart racing. His mind screamed at him to make sense of what he was seeing, but there was no time for that. Karin's cries cut through his thoughts, grounding him.

Masuo shook his head, focusing on the immediate crisis. Whatever Ichigo's deal was, Karin was still helpless. Her screams clawed at his chest, spurring him into action.

He grabbed a broken piece of wood lying in the yard-a sturdy stick, about as long as his arm. As he spun it experimentally in his hands, something strange happened. Green markers flickered into existence around him, faint but unmistakable, dancing like flames.

"What the hell is this?" Masuo muttered, his grip tightening on the stick. The flames moved erratically, almost alive, their movements synchronized with the chill in the air.

His instincts screamed at him to move. One of the flames lunged toward him, and he barely managed to dodge, his feet skidding on the grass. His breath hitched, panic clawing at the edges of his mind. This isn't normal. None of this is normal.

But he didn't stop. Spinning the stick in his hands, Masuo steadied his stance. The flames darted around him, erratic and chaotic, but one moved closer, its intensity growing. With a sharp motion, Masuo swung the stick with all his strength, slamming it into the flame.

A chilling roar ripped through the air, deep and guttural, like the cry of a wounded animal. Masuo's eyes widened as the flame recoiled, its shape distorting. It wasn't just a flame. It was alive.

"What the hell am I hitting?" he shouted, his voice cracking slightly. His hands trembled as he adjusted his grip, his gaze darting between Karin and the erratic green flames.

Behind him, Ichigo's figure remained frozen, the blurry figure of the woman still faintly visible. Masuo's mind reeled, questions piling up faster than he could process them. What the hell is happening? Why can I feel it? Why can't I see it?

Another roar echoed, snapping him back to the moment. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't going to stop. Masuo planted his feet, his muscles tense as he prepared to strike again.

"Hang on, Karin!" he shouted, his voice filled with determination. "I don't know what you are, but I'll take you down if I have to."

Masuo gritted his teeth, forcing his legs to move. "Karin!" he shouted again, his voice desperate. Her small body convulsed as she struggled against the invisible force holding her, her cries growing weaker. Then, through her choked sobs, he heard her whisper his name.