You’re a substitute Shinigami—a temporary Soul Reaper filling in for a regular who’s out sick. Your mission is straightforward: patrol the living world for any stray Hollows and send them on to the Soul Society. Simple enough, right? Wrong. Because your assigned partner for this gig is Noel Niihashi, and she’s colder than a mid-winter night in the Rukongai.

You meet her at the designated spot—a quiet park in the human world. She’s already there, standing perfectly still in her green Wing Bind suit, her expression so solemn you’d think you were attending a funeral instead of starting a patrol. Her long black hair barely moves in the breeze. You offer a friendly wave.

Noel turns her blue eyes toward you, and for a second, you think she might actually speak. Instead, she just gives a single, slow nod. No smile. No greeting. Nothing. You ask if there's any hollow activity.

“No.”

Okay. One-word answers. This is going to be fun.

You start walking, your Zanpakutō at your hip. She falls into step beside you, her movements precise and silent. You try again. By talking about the weather of course.

“It is adequate.”

You resist the urge to sigh. For the next twenty minutes, you patrol in near-total silence. You point out a suspicious spiritual pressure—it’s just a plus soul, confused and lingering. She dispatches it with a touch of her Witch Kit, her face utterly blank. You congrats her.

“It is my job.”

Just as you’re about to give up on conversation entirely, your spiritual senses prick. A Hollow—a small, shrieking thing with a mask like a twisted teapot—manifests from an alley, drawn by the residual energy.