Chapter 1: Tsundere? Time for a Reality Check.

Soul Society

Rukongai, District 1: Junrinan.

The streets of Junrinan bustled with wandering souls, a stark contrast to the harsher, more resource-scarce outer districts of the Rukongai. 

Being the district closest to Seireitei, the heart of the Soul Society, Junrinan enjoyed relative prosperity and order.

Shinigami, dressed in their distinctive black uniforms, were a common sight here. 

Their black kimonos, known as shihakushō, and the Zanpakutō at their waists signified their duty to vanquish Hollows and guide lost souls to peace. Each time a Shinigami passed by, the wandering souls instinctively straightened up, their gazes filled with awe and respect for the figures who represented both protection and authority.

At this moment, two Shinigami were stationed outside a modest ramen shop on a quiet street corner, their uniforms pristine but their expressions strained.

—

"As expected, Captain Furōfushi is in there again, eating ramen," one of the Shinigami muttered, glancing nervously through the shop's doorway.

"She always says the ramen here is better than anything served at the Sixth Division's barracks," the second Shinigami grumbled, folding his arms.

"I mean, abandoning her duties for ramen? What would the other squads think if they found out? They'll say we're lax in discipline," the first soldier added.

"Shh! Lower your voice! If Captain Saitō hears you, you'll be training with her blade instead of a wooden staff."

Their hushed voices grew louder as they tried to decide who should go inside and retrieve their captain, Furōfushi Saitō.

"Why do I have to go in?" One squad member protested. "The last time I approached her, she called it 'combat practice' and left me with bruises for a week."

"You're the one who suggested we come here! It's only fair you go!"

Their argument became so animated that they attracted the attention of passersby, a rare sight in Junrinan where Shinigami typically commanded respect.

—

Inside the ramen shop, the object of their concern sat casually at the counter. Furōfushi Saitō, Captain of the Sixth Division, lounged with an air of authority and defiance. 

Her long lavender hair was tied into elegant twin ponytails, and her crimson-lined haori, marked with the kanji for "Six" on the back, hung loosely over her shihakushō. She exuded a presence that was equal parts beauty and danger.

Standing behind the counter was the shop's proprietor, a young man named Araki. Tall and handsome, he was busily stirring a pot of broth while shooting disdainful glances at his only customer.

"If you're here to eat, eat. If not, leave," Araki said, his voice calm but firm. "And stop swinging your legs. You're making me dizzy."

Furōfushi smirked, crossing her legs in deliberate defiance. "Is that how you treat a customer? I'm a captain of the Gotei 13, you know. You should be honored that I'm gracing your little ramen shop with my presence."

"Customer? Don't make me laugh," Araki shot back, his tone unyielding. "In this shop, a customer is someone who pays for their food. As far as I'm concerned, you're just wasting space."

Her smirk faltered, and she narrowed her eyes. "Watch your mouth, Araki. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today. Otherwise, I might've accidentally unsheathed my Zanpakutō."

"Go ahead," Araki replied dryly, unperturbed. "But you'll still owe me fifty kan for that bowl of ramen you haven't ordered yet."

Furōfushi's eyes widened. "Fifty kan? For a single bowl? That's daylight robbery!"

Araki leaned on the counter, his expression nonchalant. "The price went up when you walked in. Your presence scares away my regulars. Consider it compensation."

Furōfushi stared at him, speechless. It wasn't often that someone had the audacity to stand up to her, much less mock her. 

Her sharp gaze softened slightly, and a mischievous grin spread across her face.

"You're lucky I like your ramen," she muttered, tossing a coin onto the counter. "Give me a bowl of tonkotsu ramen."

Araki picked up the coin without a word, placing a steaming bowl of noodles in front of her in record time.

"That was fast," Furōfushi remarked, eyeing the dish. "Wait a second... I ordered tonkotsu! This is clear broth!"

"You're welcome," Araki said, smirking.

Grumbling, Furōfushi picked up her chopsticks and began to eat. Despite her complaints, she had to admit the noodles were as delicious as always.

—

"Hey, Araki," she said between bites, "you've got skill. Why not put it to good use? Join the Gotei 13. With your talent, you'd make an excellent addition to Seireitei."

Araki paused, his expression unreadable. He seemed lost in thought.

"So, that's a no again?" Furōfushi sighed. "I'll keep asking, you know. One day, you'll say yes."

To her surprise, Araki nodded.

"Fine," he said simply.

Furōfushi nearly choked on her noodles. "What did you just say?!"

"I said I'll join the Gotei 13," he repeated, his tone calm.

The girl, who was the captain of the Sixth Division, put down her bowl of noodles and stared at Araki with wide eyes in shock. This was the second time today that his words had stunned her. The first time was when she heard the outrageous price of the ramen.

"…"

Compared to the girl's shock, the young man, Araki, remained much more composed.

This was because, in his mind, his personal task system had just issued a mission to go to Soul Society, and everything was just a tool to make him stronger.

He was a reincarnator from another world.

==============

I rewrote the first chapter; it was very hard to figure out some of the names of the characters, and sometimes the dialogue can be a bit tricky. The previous first chapter was a bit of a mess; do not mind the short chapter, as I had to cut down and rewrite some useless stuff. You guys know how Chinese fanfics are often like.