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The barracks of the First Division stood quietly dignified as captains and their lieutenants passed through the atrium in measured strides, their expressions shifting between quiet anticipation and restrained satisfaction.
Unlike typical captain's assemblies, there was little mystery surrounding the purpose of this gathering, as all eyes were drawn to the name that had recently shaken the Gotei 13—Kuchiki Moyu, a name carved into memory during the recent captain qualification exam, a candidate who severed another captain's Bankai and nearly struck him down entirely before vanishing from public sight soon after.
Yin Ginjiro, lieutenant of the Sixth Division, kept pace beside his captain, Byakuya Kuchiki, practically glowing with excitement as he spoke.
"Captain, I can't contain my joy! Master Moyu rose to captain-class so quickly... the pride of the Kuchiki clan is once again shining brightly!" he said, grinning broadly. "Honestly, I thought he might even take your seat."
Byakuya frowned, the comment grating more than usual, for he had corrected his subordinate's undisciplined behavior many times, though unfortunately, reprimands slid off Ginjiro like water off steel.
"Silence, Ginjiro. You represent the face of the Sixth Division."
"Don't be so stiff, Captain," Ginjiro beamed, clearly unaffected. "Today's a celebration! Two Kuchikis wearing captain's haoris—that's worth throwing a lieutenant's banquet over!"
Byakuya shook his head and continued forward in silence, unconcerned with his lieutenant's unrelenting enthusiasm, though Ginjiro followed with a call, "Captain, wait for me!" already mentally organizing the banquet.
Elsewhere in the atrium, Kyoraku Shunsui tugged thoughtfully at his chin as he looked to his longtime comrade, Ukitake Jūshirō.
"To think, Moyu wasn't punished by Central 46, and not only that... he ascended to captain so quickly."
Ukitake, his face pale and breath shallow, covered a cough with a trembling hand as he stood despite his fragile condition, having insisted on attending the ceremony.
"If I recall... several elders of the Kuchiki clan sit among the Central 46," he said with quiet insight, prompting Kyoraku's eyes to widen slightly.
"Ahh... now it makes sense."
Central 46—a council where noble families and elders held sway—had always reflected the balance of power among the clans, so that the Kuchiki held influence there came as no surprise.
One by one, the captains assembled until, with the exception of the Twelfth Division, all were present, and at the forefront stood Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, his gaze steely beneath the brim of his hat.
"Since all are present," Yamamoto said, his voice resonant with age and authority, "we will begin the captain inauguration ceremony."
Silence fell over the room, even calming the ever-restless Kusajishi Yachiru, who perched quietly on Zaraki Kenpachi's shoulder, her wide eyes fixed with interest.
"A few days ago, Shiba Isshin, captain of the Tenth Division, perished in the World of the Living while engaging a Menos Grande," Yamamoto announced solemnly. "The captaincy of the Tenth Division is now vacant."
"Following recommendations from Captain Unohana of the Fourth Division and Captain Kuchiki of the Sixth, and after a rigorous assessment—Kuchiki Moyu has successfully passed the captain's test."
"Therefore, I now formally appoint—Kuchiki Moyu as captain of the Tenth Division."
As Yamamoto's voice echoed to its end, the white doors of the hall parted.
Moyu stepped forward, draped in the white haori of a captain as he walked with calm precision across the Court of Pure Souls, drawing every eye to him at once.
The Kuchiki family had always possessed striking features; Byakuya was known for his beauty, and yet Moyu's presence exceeded even that, with no traditional side-swept hairpiece but instead the Kuchiki clan's silver and white floral kenseikan worn elegantly around his neck, while his long white haori caught the breeze, accentuating his ethereal composure.
A serene smile touched his lips—warm, without arrogance—as he offered a simple greeting.
"Everyone, I look forward to working with you," he said softly.
The ceremony was not as thunderous as some expected, but the tremors it sent through Seireitei were undeniable.
The Tenth Division, in particular, buzzed with whispers—not of resentment, but of wonder—as their new captain had been rumored to be fresh from the Shin'ō Academy.
That curiosity soon gave way to shock as more details began to emerge.
"A lie? He killed two Vasto Lorde-class Menos in the World of the Living?" someone whispered. "During his captain test, he severed Captain Kurotsuchi Mayuri's Bankai—and nearly ended him," another added. "Isn't he a recent graduate? Not even a veteran Shinigami..."
That day, silence hung heavily over the Tenth Division.
But Moyu did not immediately report to his new squad; instead, he returned to the Kuchiki estate, having been informed by Byakuya that, as he prepared to leave the First Division barracks, a visitor had arrived bearing a formal card—a rare gesture in Seireitei.
Moyu knew many in passing—but few would send such a formal summons, and his curiosity was piqued.
In the receiving room of the Kuchiki manor, seated beneath an intricately carved wooden screen, sat a man with slick, dark green hair and a patrician air; his noble robes contrasted with the subtle danger coiled in his posture.
Tsunayashiro Tokinada.
Moyu's eyes narrowed slightly, for he knew this man well—and knew better than to trust him.
The Tsunayashiro family, one of the four great noble houses, controlled the Great Spirit Library, and their knowledge of Soul Society's secrets was immense, but their legacy had blackened under Tokinada's rule.
Originally the lowest-ranked among his kin, Tokinada rose to the headship by orchestrating the deaths of multiple successors—a creature of schemes, shadows, and sharp smiles.
And Moyu had no patience for such games.
Power governed Soul Society, and while schemes might slither through its cracks, only strength commanded true respect, as Yamamoto and Aizen had both shaped the world through sheer will, while Tokinada, for all his maneuvering, was hollow in comparison.
"Moyu-dono," Tokinada greeted him with a smile that slithered like a serpent's tongue. "You've returned."
Moyu's voice was clipped and dry. "What business brings you here, Tsunayashiro?"
He didn't offer tea or a seat, for he had no intention of hospitality.
Tokinada faltered for a fraction of a second, clearly unprepared for such direct contempt, though he quickly plastered on his usual smile.
"I assure you, this is a matter of importance," he said, shifting awkwardly—standing in the middle of the room like a displaced actor on an unfamiliar stage.
When Moyu gave him the smallest nod to continue, Tokinada pressed on.
"I heard you've taken the Tenth Division. Congratulations. The Kuchiki legacy continues to flourish."
"Your point?" Moyu replied coolly.
"If I must be direct, so be it," Tokinada said, and his smile turned sour. "With Shiba Isshin's... departure, the Shiba family is crumbling. Only Shiba Kaien remains, and he's a mere seated officer."
He paused, letting the weight of implication settle before continuing.
"In short—the Shiba are finished. Their estates, their treasures—are ripe for claim. The other nobles are watching, circling. But rather than letting some upstart devour their legacy..."
He didn't finish the sentence, because he didn't need to.
He wanted the Kuchiki and Tsunayashiro families to swallow the Shiba together.
Moyu's voice turned cold.
"Tsunayashiro-dono. You must be mistaken."
Tokinada's grin faltered. "What do you mean?"
"You speak of cooperation. But what does your family bring to the table?" Moyu asked, his tone calm even as it cut deeper. "The Kuchiki clan has two active captains. We stand at the peak of nobility—Influence, Power, Status—all leagues above you."
"Why would we ever need your cooperation?"
Tokinada's eyes widened slightly. His expression twitched.
He had calculated so carefully—yet he had misjudged the man before him entirely.
His voice rose. "As the new captain of the Tenth, do you not—"
But Moyu's spiritual pressure flared—crushing, like a mountain collapsing—before Tokinada could finish.
Tokinada staggered as invisible weight bore down on him, contorting his face with effort.
"Kuchiki Moyu—how dare—"
The pressure intensified. His limbs trembled. Bones creaked beneath the strain. His face flushed red as sweat beaded on his brow.
Moyu watched with cold indifference, for he knew exactly what Tokinada was—a snake that bit allies when they turned their backs—and to call such a man an ally was to invite ruin.
Calmly, Moyu said:
"I do things. Why should I explain them to you?"
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