Reincarnated As Uryū Ishida

---

Chapter 1: A New Beginning

The first thing he noticed was the cold.

It wasn't the cold of death he had been expecting—the icy void he imagined waiting for him after the truck's headlights had swallowed him whole. No, this was different. Softer. Real. He felt air brushing against his skin, smelled a faint antiseptic tang in the air, and heard the murmur of voices speaking in a language he somehow understood.

What… happened?

Akihiro Tanaka tried to move, but his body refused to obey. His arms felt strange, weak, and clumsy. He blinked, his vision blurry and unfocused. He couldn't make out the room around him, only vague shapes and shifting shadows.

A face loomed above him—a man's face, angular and sharp, with glasses that gleamed in the dim light. His hair was silver-streaked, neatly combed, and his eyes were cold and calculating, like he was assessing a piece of equipment.

"You'll grow strong," the man said flatly, as if making a decision. "There's no other option."

The voice was crisp and formal, carrying the weight of authority. It sent a chill down Akihiro's spine, but not because it was unfamiliar.

He knew that voice.

No. No, this wasn't possible.

A word slipped from the man's lips, almost a whisper. "Uryū."

The name hit Akihiro like a lightning strike. His heart pounded as the pieces began to fall into place, his disoriented mind racing to make sense of the impossible. He tried to lift his head, to take in more of the room, but his tiny body betrayed him.

A movement caught his eye—a glint of silver on the man's wrist. A cross. Not just any cross. A Quincy cross.

This isn't real.

He wanted to laugh, to scream, to deny what his senses were telling him. He had spent countless hours reading Bleach, analyzing every arc, memorizing every detail. Uryū Ishida, the last Quincy, the proud and reserved rival of Ichigo Kurosaki. The stoic archer who had once been his favorite character.

And now, somehow, that was him.

---

A Baby's World

The days blurred together, each one a struggle to adapt to his bizarre new reality. Akihiro—or was he Uryū now?—had been reincarnated into the body of a baby. A helpless, weak, useless baby.

His senses were frustratingly limited. His eyesight improved slowly, allowing him to make out more details of his surroundings. The room he was in was stark and minimalist, with clean lines and neutral colors. A window let in pale sunlight, but there was little warmth in the space.

The man who had loomed over him that first day—Ryūken Ishida—was a constant presence, though rarely affectionate. He would glance at Akihiro with a detached sort of interest, like he was studying a project rather than looking at his son.

Occasionally, a woman would appear, a maid who would feed him or change his clothes. She was polite but brisk, never lingering long enough to offer comfort.

Akihiro felt like a guest in his own life.

---

Memories of a Past Life

Late at night, when the world was quiet and the shadows stretched long across the ceiling, Akihiro would lie awake, grappling with the enormity of what had happened.

He remembered his old life with painful clarity.

He had been an ordinary guy—just Akihiro Tanaka, a university student with average grades and a deep love for anime. Bleach had been his favorite. He'd spent hours debating the finer points of the plot with friends, joking about which character he'd want to be if he were in the series.

Now, the joke was on him.

He was Uryū Ishida. Heir to the Quincy legacy. A character who would one day face monstrous enemies, impossible battles, and a tragic legacy of blood and revenge.

The realization left him hollow. He wasn't just living in the Bleach universe. He was in Uryū's life. He knew how this story played out—Sōken Ishida, his grandfather, would die, torn apart by Hollows while the Soul Reapers stood by and did nothing. That moment would be the cornerstone of Uryū's hatred for Shinigami.

But now, it was his life. His choices.

And if he had anything to say about it, that moment wouldn't happen.

---

Meeting Sōken

The first time he met his grandfather, Akihiro felt a spark of hope.

Sōken Ishida was nothing like Ryūken. Where Ryūken was cold and distant, Sōken was warm and gentle. He would hold Akihiro—no, Uryū—close, humming soft melodies and speaking words of encouragement.

"You have a great destiny ahead of you, my boy," Sōken would say, his voice filled with quiet conviction. "You'll carry the Quincy legacy into the future. I'm sure of it."

Akihiro wanted to cry. Sōken was the kind of person he had always wished for in his old life—someone who believed in him, who saw potential instead of limitations. But that warmth was a double-edged sword.

He knew Sōken's fate.

The Hollows would come. The Soul Reapers would stand by and do nothing. And Sōken would die, leaving Uryū to pick up the pieces.

Unless Akihiro stopped it.

---

A Spark of Resolve

The first time Akihiro felt spiritual energy, it was like touching the edge of a flame.

He was sitting in Sōken's lap, watching as his grandfather demonstrated a simple Quincy technique. Sōken raised his hand, drawing Reishi from the air into a faint glow of light.

"See this?" Sōken said, smiling down at him. "This is the foundation of all Quincy techniques. Reishi manipulation. One day, you'll learn to do this too."

Akihiro reached out instinctively, his tiny hand brushing the glow of light. For a brief moment, he felt something—a tingling warmth, like static electricity crawling across his skin.

Sōken chuckled. "Eager, aren't you? You'll be a natural, Uryū. I can feel it."

Akihiro's heart pounded. This was real. The power was real. And if he could master it, maybe—just maybe—he could change the story.

He wasn't going to let Sōken die. Not this time.

---