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Shiraha's declaration struck the court like a thunderclap, shattering the air into silence as every captain, vice-captain, and seated officer turned toward him, disbelief carved into their faces like stone.

Ichimaru Gin, ever the master of mockery, drew out a smile, his voice laced with amusement. "Ah, ah... Kuchiki-san, surely you're joking with us?"

Aizen Sōsuke's eyes gleamed faintly with intrigue as he shifted his gaze to the woman beside him. "Geniuses do tend to act unexpectedly, wouldn't you agree, Captain Unohana?"

"Perhaps," Unohana replied with the ghost of a smile, her calm demeanor betraying only the faintest flicker of surprise in her eyes. "But I must admit—I'm curious whether Third Seat Kuchiki can truly pull it off."

To challenge one's own captain upon joining a division was not merely unorthodox—it bordered on suicidal. Aside from Zaraki Kenpachi, no one had ever dared such a move, and yet here Shiraha stood, composed and unapologetic, as though stepping into the annals of Soul Society history was as natural to him as breathing.

Ukitake's voice came strained but firm. "Shiraha, this isn't something to be taken lightly. You only just joined the Seventh Division."

Zaraki Kenpachi erupted in laughter, his bells jingling wildly as he clapped his hand against his blade. "Hah! That's what I like to hear!"

Kyoraku Shunsui tilted his bamboo hat, glancing at Byakuya with a grin tugging at his lips. "Kuchiki-taichō, your little brother's got quite the flair. Shouldn't you be talking him down?"

Byakuya, unmoved and expressionless, responded with the quiet dignity expected of a noble. "His decision is his own. I won't interfere."

He had already tried reasoning with Shiraha the day before and failed. The current moment was merely a continuation of that choice, one Byakuya had already accepted.

Yamamoto Genryūsai's voice, cold as steel and ancient as the stone beneath them, brought every head to attention. "Kuchiki Shiraha. Was that a joke, or do you stand by it?"

Shiraha met the old man's gaze without flinching. "I'm serious, Captain. I hereby challenge Captain Komamura."

The old captain's eyes narrowed. So that was it. The reason behind Shiraha's seemingly uncharacteristic decision to join the Seventh Division wasn't allegiance or admiration—it was ambition.

Komamura Sajin, silent until now, stepped forward with steady posture, though a flicker of disbelief crossed his hidden eyes. "You wish to challenge me? Why?"

Shiraha's reply came without hesitation or arrogance, his voice cool and measured. "Because I believe I'm stronger than you, and more fit to lead the Seventh Division."

A subtle tremor pulsed through Komamura's clenched jaw. "Arrogant."

Shiraha's power may have been extraordinary, but Komamura had faced war, hollow legions, and traitorous captains. Defeating a Gotei 13 captain was never simple, and it never would be.

"If that's truly how you feel," Komamura said with quiet resolve, "then allow me to test your conviction myself."

"According to Gotei 13 protocol," Shiraha added, his gaze unwavering, "a seated officer may challenge and replace their captain if victorious in a duel before two hundred active division members. Correct?"

Yamamoto gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Correct. If Captain Komamura accepts, then this match is sanctioned. Chōjirō."

With a simple acknowledgment, Sasakibe vanished in a blur of Shunpo.

Within minutes, the steady thunder of marching feet echoed across the court as two hundred members of the Seventh Division arrived in uniformed formation, led by Vice-Captain Iba Tetsuzaemon.

"That's him?" one soldier whispered under his breath. "The rookie?"

"Madness. Just graduated and already challenging our captain?"

"Who the hell does he think he is?"

The skepticism spread like wildfire, voices rising until Iba's bellow cut clean through the noise. "Enough! You forget yourselves. Kuchiki Shiraha is the man who beheaded an Adjuchas-class Menos without even possessing a true Zanpakutō. Show him the respect he deserves."

The division quieted, grumbling silenced by the vice-captain's authority.

Yamamoto's voice rose once more, grave and decisive. "With two hundred witnesses present, the challenge is approved. Begin."

The captains and lieutenants vanished in a synchronized blur, repositioning themselves at a safe distance. Komamura and Shiraha remained alone, standing amid the scarred ruins of the training ground, facing one another in absolute silence.

Ichimaru Gin reappeared beside Byakuya, his sly grin returning. "What do you think? Can he actually pull this off?"

Byakuya's response was quiet and unwavering. "You'll see."

"If he wins, he'll be the first since Zaraki to defeat a captain immediately upon entry," Gin mused. "Quite the precedent."

Even Yamamoto's expression had shifted slightly, his ancient gaze focused with rare intensity.

Shiraha bowed his head slightly, hand resting on the hilt of his staff-blade. "Please guide me well, Captain Komamura."

Without warning, his spiritual pressure exploded. A rolling tide of violet Reiatsu surged from his body, crackling across the courtyard, shaking the earth beneath their feet.

Komamura answered instantly, summoning his own immense spiritual pressure to counter. But as the two waves collided, the unexpected occurred—Shiraha's Reiatsu began pushing forward, eclipsing Komamura's in both scale and intensity.

In the distance, Iba's jaw slackened. "That… can't be right. His Reiatsu is overpowering the captain's?"

The tension swelled, and Komamura, not one to hesitate, responded. "Roar, Tenken."

In a single motion, his Zanpakutō released, and from above descended a massive armored arm wielding an equally gigantic sword. The blade tore through the air, smashing into the earth with devastating force. The shockwave split the ground, carving a crater more than thirty meters wide, dust exploding upward and swallowing Shiraha in a violent cloud.

Silence followed—until a single metallic clang rang out through the haze.

The dust began to clear, slowly revealing Shiraha's silhouette. He stood upright, robes unscathed, blade lifted but unmoved, his stance serene.

Then his voice cut through the settling debris—unshaken and emotionless. "Captain Komamura, your Shikai is too weak. Go straight to Bankai."

Gasps spread through the assembled crowd like ripples on water.

Even Komamura flinched.

Shiraha smiled faintly, violet light dancing around his blade.

The real fight had only just begun.

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