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"Long time no see, Captain Jūshirō," Shiraha said with a light smile, the ease in his tone contrasting sharply with the stunned tension that had built around him.

"Jūshirō, aren't you playing dirty?" Kyoraku Shunsui remarked with exaggerated disbelief, adjusting his bamboo hat in mock indignation.

"Shunsui, I learned from the best," Ukitake replied smoothly, the corners of his mouth lifting with familiar warmth. "Besides, if Shiraha joins our Thirteenth Division, I'll appoint him vice-captain immediately. Isn't your Eighth Division already full? I doubt Vice-Captain Ise Nanao would be thrilled about being replaced."

The captains exchanged surprised glances, some raising brows, others visibly impressed. For Ukitake to so readily offer the vice-captain position to someone fresh from the Academy spoke volumes about how seriously he valued Shiraha's potential.

"A bit ruthless of you, Jūshirō," Shunsui mused, smiling crookedly. "You really rate him that highly?"

"Absolutely," Ukitake responded without hesitation. "That Zanpakutō ability is unlike anything we've seen. Its scale, control, and power—it speaks for itself."

"Kuchiki-san," Ichimaru Gin cut in with that ever-sly grin, "our Third Division could use a talent like yours. If you're interested, I'd be happy to welcome you as my vice-captain. No need to climb the ladder."

Before Shiraha could respond, a deep, unrestrained voice cut across the air.

"Kuchiki Shiraha!" Zaraki Kenpachi's voice thundered, thick with fighting spirit. "Join the Eleventh Division. If you can kill me, the captain's seat is yours."

Gasps spread like wildfire through the assembled captains and officers. The idea that Zaraki would so bluntly offer his own position was unthinkable. But he wasn't joking. Kenpachi didn't care about prestige or hierarchy; his only desire was combat. And in Shiraha, he saw the first genuine challenge in years—a weapon worth testing his life against.

"Kuchiki Shiraha," Kurotsuchi Mayuri said next, his voice oily with interest as he clasped his gloved fingers, "the Twelfth Division would be eager to welcome you. Your Zanpakutō intrigues me deeply. Allow me to study it, and I'll even support you becoming captain one day. Think of what we could accomplish together."

That Mayuri—infamously protective of his position—would offer future captaincy was a shocking revelation. But Shiraha's unique ability to manipulate gravity had clearly captured his twisted scientific curiosity. The boy had become a battlefield prize, the eye of a storm, and the center of a rapidly escalating bidding war.

Every captain, it seemed, wanted him—except three.

Soi Fon of the Second Division said nothing. Her division was a hereditary stronghold of the Shihōin Clan, and as Shiraha came from the Kuchiki Clan, one of the Four Great Noble Houses, inviting him would violate long-standing power balances.

Unohana Retsu of the Fourth Division also remained silent. Her squad specialized in healing, support, and logistics. Shiraha's power was pure offense, unmatched in destruction—it didn't belong in her domain.

And Byakuya Kuchiki, captain of the Sixth Division and Shiraha's elder brother, stood quietly, arms folded, his gaze unreadable. He made no move, no offer, and no objection—because he already knew Shiraha's answer.

"Kuchiki Shiraha," Yamamoto Genryūsai finally spoke, his aged voice rumbling with finality as his staff struck the ground with echoing weight, "join the First Division. When you master Bankai, defeat me—and the title of Captain-Commander will be yours. So too shall the legacy of the strongest Shinigami."

Silence fell, deep and complete. Even Shiraha's expression shifted. No one had anticipated Yamamoto's declaration—not the captains, not the lieutenants, not even Shiraha himself.

The Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 had ruled for over a thousand years. His Zanpakutō, Ryūjin Jakka, was unparalleled in destructive might. That he would offer his seat, his power, and his legacy to a youth yet to unlock even Shikai was staggering.

But only Shiraha knew the truth. The others believed he simply hadn't attained Shikai or Bankai—but in reality, he hadn't even forged a true Zanpakutō. His current blade was a system-forged staff, mimicking the traits of one. He hadn't communed with his inner spirit. He hadn't heard its voice. He hadn't even begun the sacred path toward Shikai, let alone Bankai.

Still, Yamamoto's words were not a bluff. They were a recognition of raw, unmatched potential. And that made them all the more weighty.

"Old Man Yama, you're serious?" Shunsui said, tilting his head with a wry smile. "You'd pass on Ryūjin Jakka's legacy to someone who hasn't even touched Shikai?"

"The Captain-Commander isn't wrong," Ukitake said, voice calm and unshaken. "If Shiraha reaches Bankai, his power might be the only one to rival Ryūjin Jakka."

Ichimaru Gin leaned forward slightly, still smiling, though his eyes gleamed with deeper interest. "Captain Kuchiki, you haven't said anything yet. Have you already recruited your younger brother to the Sixth Division? Or are you keeping him a secret?"

Byakuya cast him a single, disinterested glance and said nothing.

"Aww, don't be so cold, Captain Kuchiki," Gin teased, but his voice trailed off as Yamamoto's eyes narrowed.

"Enough," Yamamoto said sharply, opening his eyes with finality. His staff struck the ground a second time. "Kuchiki Shiraha—speak. Which division do you choose?"

All eyes turned toward him. The bidding had ended. Now came the verdict. Some captains leaned forward, anticipating an answer in their favor; others tensed, hoping against odds. The plaza was still, silent.

Shiraha closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaled, and spoke with absolute clarity.

"I choose… Captain Komamura's Seventh Division."

The words fell like a dropped blade.

Even Komamura Sajin blinked behind his helmet, momentarily unsure if he had heard correctly. "Me?"

The gathered captains broke into hushed murmurs. Of all the possible divisions—Ukitake's Thirteenth, Ichimaru's Third, even the prestigious Sixth under his brother—Shiraha had chosen the Seventh, a division that hadn't even offered him a promotion beyond his current Third Seat.

Ichimaru tilted his head dramatically, his smile faltering just slightly. "Kuchiki-san… did I mishear? You meant the Seventh Division?"

"I didn't misspeak," Shiraha replied, his tone as immovable as steel. "I've made my decision."

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