It started little by little.
Small enough that Ichigo almost ignored it.
He was halfway home from Urahara's store when a car horn sounded at the intersection up ahead. A pedestrian backed onto the pavement.
A second later, the pedestrian was startled.
Not before.
After.
Ichigo slowed down.
The moment was not right.
He told himself he was projecting. Once something is pointed out, you see it everywhere. Urahara's voice still remained in his head, out of phase.
The light changed.
The cars were moving.
Everything seemed normal again.
A cyclist then hit a rubbish container.
The crash came first.
The scream followed... half a breath too late.
Ichigo's chest tightened.
When he arrived at the Kurosaki Clinic, the pressure had intensified, not more heavier, just broader. As if the air itself lagged behind the movement.
Inside, Isshin was theatrically arguing with a patient about dietary restrictions, declaring:
"Moderation is a myth!"
The patient blinked.
Then he laughed.
Too late.
Ichigo stopped at the door.
Isshin's eyes darted towards him.
For a split second, Isshin's smile faltered, not because of what he saw, but because of what he felt.
Then Isshin's expression corrected itself:
"Oi, Ichigo" You look terrible. Didn't you sleep?"
Concern reached Isshin's voice a second after the words.
Ichigo stared:
"...You felt that too."
Isshin didn't respond.
Upstairs, Yuzu almost dropped a bowl.
She slipped.
She got it.
Then she gasped.
Karin opened the door when she heard the sound:
"What was that-"
The question came after silence.
Karin frowned. Not confused. Alert.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at Ichigo.
Karin said flatly:
"You're doing something."
Ichigo snapped:
"I'm not."
Irritation hit him a moment later.
And Karin realised that too.
The air changed.
Not visibly.
Not spiritually violent.
Just a slight hesitation in the rhythm of things - the way footsteps echoed, the way words followed thought.
Ichigo back away towards the stairs.
The pressure in his chest pulsed once.
Outside, a dog barked.
The sound came through clean.
The second bark came before the first had completely faded away.
Then silence.
Then the reaction - distant screams, a slamming door.
Ichigo exhaled slowly.
It wasn't just him anymore.
He left the house again without giving any explanation.
On the sidewalk he saw people moving.
A man tripped on an uneven pavement.
He fell to the ground.
A moment later, pain registered on his face.
A woman turned at the sound of her name.
Her expression changed and surprise formed just a little after she had already turned around.
Ichigo's jaw clenched.
He could feel it now, not as a pulling, but as an extension.
Like waves travelling from a point no one else could see.
His.
Back at the Urahara Shop, Tessai was already adjusting the seals when Ichigo arrived.
Urahara was at the door, hat pulled down, lightly:
"Ah, I suspected you might come back."
Ichigo, snapping:
"It's spreading."
Urahara did not deny it:
"I placed a passive measurement array after you left, within a radius of 300 meters, the reaction time has increased by approximately 0.8 seconds."
Ichigo's stomach dropped:
"That's not possible."
Urahara, softly:
"Oh, it's very possible, you're not projecting power. You're projecting alignment."
Urahara gestured to the faint network of Kidō seals glowing against the walls:
"The world around you is trying to match your phase."
Ichigo's voice was strained:
"I didn't ask it to."
Urahara, lightly:
"Of course not, neither is the system on the other side."
Silence hung between them.
A cup of tea slid off a shop shelf.
It hit the ground.
Broken.
The sound was sharp and immediate.
The shudder came later.
They both noticed it.
Urahara's smile faded completely.
Urahara, quietly:
"This is no longer just resonance feedback. It's a timing drift."
Ichigo looked at his hands.
They felt stable.
Strong.
Wrong.
Ichigo, staring:
"So what happens if it continues to spread?"
Urahara looked him in the eyes:
"Over time, the world around you will react after events occur."
Ichigo's pulse quickened.
Late.
Ichigo, asking:
"What if a threat appears?"
Urahara's response was calm:
"Then the defense will come after the damage."
Outside, the city was moving.
The cars turned the corners. The conversations flowed. Footsteps were heard.
All of this a little off.
Not enough to panic.
It is not enough to consciously realise it.
But enough.
Ichigo stood in the center, feeling the bond in his chest hum faintly, not calling, not demanding.
Balancing.
Somewhere far away, a system that had stabilised without emotion still existed exactly as it was designed.
And around Ichigo Kurosaki, the world began to follow him... not in strength, not in power, but in time.
A little late.