Bleach: The Template System Chose Me, The Forgotten Kuchiki

The moment the system chime echoed in his mind, a sharp pulse surged through Shiraha's entire body, and he immediately sensed the shift—his power had risen, subtly but unmistakably. His perception, reflexes, and reiryoku control had all improved, but it was the changes in his gravity-based abilities that stood out most clearly.

"So the template progress advanced again…" Shiraha murmured, slowly exhaling as waves of new techniques and instinctual understandings flooded into his consciousness, piecing together fragmented intuition into clear application. "My gravity manipulation is still at the intermediate level, but the number of abilities tied to it has definitely increased."

Although the advancement hadn't pushed gravity control into the advanced tier just yet, the sheer breadth of supplementary skills now integrated into his system gave him more versatility than ever before, and beneath that versatility, Shiraha could feel something stirring—an embryonic evolution clawing its way to the surface, suspended between readiness and restraint.

"I can sense it now... I'm close—so close—to breaking into the next threshold," he muttered, his thoughts teetering between certainty and anticipation, practically tasting the dimensional shift that waited just beyond his current limitations.

He could almost see it: the tipping point that would elevate gravity control from mere utility to dominion. But until that happened, the highlight of this upgrade remained the one thing he'd desired most—the Completion-level Observation Haki.

The corner of his lips curled as he activated the advanced perception field to its fullest. "So this is what they call Consummation-level Observation Haki... then why does it feel so—underwhelming?"

As Shiraha expanded his Haki across the town's skyline, his brows creased faintly, registering how far the field extended. The radius ballooned, spreading outward like ripples on a lake until it stabilized at an astonishing 100,000 meters, a full tenfold increase from the previous 10,000-meter range his Advanced-level Haki had permitted.

The expansion wasn't a marginal boost—it was a categorical transformation, the kind that turned instinctive sensing into battlefield orchestration, allowing him to map entire cities in real-time. And yet, despite that monumental enhancement, Shiraha couldn't shake the undercurrent of disappointment coursing through him. Something felt fundamentally... incomplete.

Back when he had studied Fujitora's feats in the One Piece world, he remembered watching the blind admiral summon celestial rocks from deep orbit—enormous meteorites drawn from the stratosphere and hurled downward like divine judgment. Compared to that overwhelming display of power, Shiraha's current 100,000-meter range still felt grounded, restricted to merely continental parameters. If he couldn't even touch what floated beyond the atmosphere, then what was the point?

"System," he asked, his voice sharp and eyes narrowing slightly, "why is my Observation Haki still so limited? Shouldn't I be able to replicate Fujitora's meteorite drop with this?"

The system, as always, answered with mechanical clarity and absolute precision.

"To exert influence on gravitational bodies outside the atmosphere, both Observation Haki and Gravity Control must reach the Consummation Level. While the Host's Observation Haki has reached the necessary threshold, Gravity Control remains classified at the Intermediate stage."

And with that, the mystery unraveled before him.

"So that's the missing piece…" he muttered, the weight of clarity settling over him like steel. "Without perfected gravity control, even perfect perception won't let me reach celestial targets."

Nodding slowly, Shiraha finally resolved the dissonance that had plagued him since the upgrade. His earlier confusion—how Fujitora could summon meteorites with such effortless precision—had stemmed from an incomplete premise. Observation Haki alone wasn't enough. It was the synergy of complete awareness and absolute gravitational mastery that made such divine-scale attacks possible.

"My strength right now..." he whispered, thoughtfully tracing his jawline as his mind ran numbers against reality, "should be somewhere close to the weakest of the current Captains."

At 60% synchronization with the Fujitora template, Shiraha now wielded Perfect-level Observation Haki, Advanced Armament Haki, Perfection-grade swordsmanship, and Intermediate Gravity Control—abilities that, when stacked, placed him well beyond the upper echelons of the seated officers. If his estimations held true, he was likely on par with Komamura Sajin, the 7th Division Captain known for his overwhelming physical strength but lack of subtlety or precision.

Still, until battle tested, it was all hypothetical.

The system's voice returned just then, shifting the trajectory of his thoughts once more:

"Check-in Task: Visit Urahara Shōten."

"Task Reward: Template Progress +10%."

Shiraha blinked once, then frowned as the implications settled.

"Already? Another sign-in task... and so soon?" he muttered, more to himself than to the system, the corners of his mouth tightening.

This one was different. Urahara Kisuke wasn't just another Soul Society exile or a background figure. Even after abandoning his position as the 12th Division's captain, Kisuke remained a force of intellect, spiritual pressure, and unpredictable ingenuity—precisely the kind of wild card Shiraha wasn't eager to confront just yet.

"Urahara... definitely not someone to take lightly," he admitted quietly.

He was aware that Urahara currently resided in Karakura Town, operating a quaint, unassuming shop beneath the surface of human affairs. And though he kept a low profile, Shiraha knew better than to believe he'd gone dormant.

Approaching that shop could mean anything: harmless banter, veiled tests, or a spiritual beatdown delivered with a smile.

"But even if I can't beat him," Shiraha reasoned aloud, "I'm confident I could escape if it came to that... and besides, the Kuchiki and Urahara families have never been enemies."

The thought offered only mild reassurance.

Urahara wasn't known for unnecessary hostility, especially not toward promising Shinigami. But that didn't mean he couldn't be dangerous when provoked—or when curious. And the man was always curious.

Still, the reward the system promised was hard to ignore.

"It's too valuable to pass up," Shiraha concluded, tightening his grip on the hilt of his blade. "A 10% boost in template progress could be the edge I need. Worst case... I retreat, regroup, and return stronger."

Just as he braced himself for movement, a flare of hostile spiritual pressure tore through the edge of his Observation Haki. The disruption came fast, chaotic, erratic.

Something was coming.

He pivoted instantly, locking on to the threat—an airborne Hollow, nearly four meters tall, its leathery wings spread wide like a nightmare beast. A hollow hole gaped in its chest, and its sharp fangs glistened as it shrieked, diving toward him with a predator's hunger.

Shiraha raised a single finger.

"Hadō Number Four—Byakurai."

He didn't bother chanting.

A bolt of pure white lightning erupted from his fingertip, thick and blazing with concentrated spiritual force. It tore through the creature's chest, instantly vaporizing its core. The Hollow screeched, fragmented, and dissolved into scattered reishi before it could even finish its descent.

"Not even worth drawing my blade," Shiraha muttered as the particles vanished into the breeze.

The system chimed again.

"Host's first template progress has reached 60%. Conditions for unlocking the second template are now viewable. Would you like to check them?"

That caught him off guard.

He had assumed the second template's requirements would remain locked until he reached full synchronization with Fujitora's.

"The second template already?" he said aloud, voice tinged with curiosity and rising tension. "Show me."

The system replied instantly:

"Unlock Conditions for Second Template:

— Fujitora Smile Template must reach 100% synchronization. (Current Progress: 60%)

— Obtain a Transformation Body. (Not Acquired)"

Shiraha's eyes narrowed.

"Transformation Body... wait—that's Urahara's invention, isn't it? The one that forces rapid Bankai development?"

He remembered it now.

Shinai-tai—the Divine Body. A synthetic soul matrix engineered by Urahara Kisuke, designed to compress ten years of Bankai training into a few grueling days. Kurosaki Ichigo had used it once, and the results had been nothing short of mythic. Within two days, he had reached a Bankai state that most Shinigami spent decades chasing.

"So that's the second condition..." Shiraha whispered, a cold realization forming.

He'd already guessed the Fujitora template needed to reach 100% before anything else would unlock, but to pair that with an artifact like the Divine Body—something only one man on Earth possessed—was either incredibly specific... or perfectly calculated.

And that meant Shiraha's next step was inevitable.

If he wanted to unlock his second template—if he wanted to ascend beyond the level of a mere captain—then he would have to face Urahara Kisuke.

Launching skyward with a burst of shunpo, Shiraha climbed above the rooftops, letting the wind cut through his hair as he extended his Observation Haki once again, stretching its reach to scan every building, alley, and block across Karakura Town.

"Where exactly is that damn shop?" he murmured.

No response came.

Only the faint noise of the city, pulsing below like a living thing.

The Urahara Shop was here—hidden, quiet, watching.

And no matter how long it took, Shiraha would find it.

Because if he didn't... then the second template would remain sealed forever.

But once he did, everything would change.