"Quincy Cross...?" Ukitake-san narrowed his eyes as he looked at the arrow forming in Amamiya Miyako's hand. "No… the surrounding reishi isn't gathering. This isn't external absorption—it's his own reiryoku forming that arrow directly…"
In the center of the Division 13 training grounds, Sentarō Kotsubaki held his zanpakutō at the ready. He didn't rush in. Instead, he cautiously observed Miyako, eyes narrowing at the unfamiliar weapon in the boy's hands.
"A ranged-type user… Tch, I've only heard of that kind of fighting style from the Quincies 200 years ago…" Sentarō muttered. "But Miyako's not a Quincy… is he?"
He kept his stance defensive, opting to wait and analyze. But Miyako-san wasn't about to give him that luxury.
"First Strike." His voice was calm. The reiryoku around his body surged, condensing instantly into a glowing arrow larger than anything a normal Shinigami should be able to form.
Without warning, Miyako loosed the arrow.
The blast echoed like a thunderclap.
Sentarō barely had time to react. The projectile streaked toward him with terrifying speed. Instinctively, he brought up his blade to guard—but the moment it made contact, his eyes widened.
"Wha—!?"
The arrow didn't shatter. It didn't even slow down. It pushed against his sword, grinding his heels across the dirt, overwhelming his balance.
"Damn it...!" Sentarō gritted his teeth. His arms shook violently. He tried pouring his own reiryoku into his blade to redirect the shot, forcing the angle away from his chest.
It worked—barely. The arrow veered, but not enough. It pierced his left shoulder with a heavy burst of force, sending a shockwave through his body.
The spiritual arrow didn't explode. Instead, it passed clean through, leaving a gaping burn along his shoulder as it finally dissipated some meters behind him.
"Haaa... that power...!" Sentarō groaned, gripping his shoulder. Blood trickled steadily, soaking his uniform. But Miyako was already aiming again.
"Triple shot." With a flick of his hand, three new arrows formed and launched toward him.
This time, Sentarō didn't wait. He retreated immediately, body flickering with shunpo, dodging before the arrows even released. But when they hit the ground, they didn't vanish like before.
Instead, they remained. Glowing. Waiting.
"Oi oi... what kind of arrows are those?" Sentarō muttered, sweat running down his face. He had no time to think.
"Fourth strike." Miyako released another three arrows, the same glowing energy surrounding them.
Sentarō's eyes narrowed.
"Wait… the direction… they're not aimed at me."
He suddenly understood. These weren't meant to hit him—they were hemming him in.
"Damn it! He's trying to restrict my movement...!" Realizing the trap, Sentarō gritted his teeth, raised his blade, and charged straight toward Miyako. "Then I'll just cut my way through!"
"Sou da... Come at me, Senpai," Miyako murmured, leaping high into the air.
From above, he began firing a rapid volley of arrows, forcing Sentarō to keep his blade up as he dodged, zigzagging through the falling spiritual barrage.
Sentarō Kotsubaki had no choice but to look up at Amamiya Miyako, using the sword in his hands to swat away the not-so-powerful arrows while ducking and weaving to avoid the rest.
But by then, Miyako's trap was already complete.
"Carriage of thunder, bridge of a spinning wheel. With light, divide into six!!"
"Wha... is he casting Kido while shooting?" Sentarō muttered, stunned. "That's not normal... you need full focus for the incantation, otherwise the spell fizzles—or worse, backfires! He shouldn't be able to control reishi and chant at the same time!"
"Sentarō-san," Miyako called out lightly, "You should look behind you."
"Huh?" Sentarō instinctively glanced over his shoulder—and his eyes widened.
The three arrows Miyako had fired earlier, the ones that had landed behind him, hadn't disappeared. They were glowing—changing.
"The front's the same," Miyako added, smiling faintly.
"Bakudō No. 61: Rikujōkōrō!" Miyako declared.
From the positions where the six arrows had struck—three in front, three behind—sheets of golden light burst forth, instantly forming into six rods of light that shot toward Sentarō, pinning him mid-stride.
"W-What the hell!? Kido from the arrows?! That's insane!" Sentarō yelled, struggling as the six light rods locked him in place.
He was immobilized.
"It's over, Sentarō-san," Miyako said, raising his bow again. Reishi gathered around him rapidly. He was already charging his next attack, not giving his opponent any chance to recover.
He leapt into the air once more—but this time even higher.
'Radius—half the training ground, with Sentarō-san as the center,' Miyako calculated in his mind. 'This way, no one else gets caught in it.'
Then he whispered: "Kōmyō no ame... Rain of Light."
The single arrow that formed in Miyako's hand suddenly split apart in midair—becoming dozens, then hundreds. They poured down like a torrent, a shimmering storm of energy.
Half the arena was swallowed in the downpour. A thick cloud of dust and reishi surged up into the air.
Gasps and murmurs broke out all around the training grounds.
"…Did he just carpet-bomb Sentarō-san with arrows!?"
"That's not a normal Quincy technique…"
Amamiya Miyako calmly landed at the edge of the arena, narrowing his eyes. He didn't relax. Rain of Light wasn't designed to be lethal, but it would definitely leave a mark. He was already forming another arrow—just in case.
As the dust cleared… he saw someone standing within the glowing mist.
"…Captain Ukitake?" Miyako blinked.
Jūshirō Ukitake stood in front of Sentarō Kotsubaki, his hand raised. A circular, golden barrier shimmered in front of them—Bakudō No. 39: Enkōsen. It had blocked the full brunt of the downpour.
"Yare yare…" Miyako muttered under his breath. "To block all of that with just Enkōsen… as expected of a captain."
"I can still fight, Captain Ukitake!" Sentarō suddenly roared, now freed from Rikujōkōrō. Blood still flowed from his injured shoulder, but his spirit hadn't wavered.
Ukitake turned to him kindly. "That's enough, Sentarō. Even if I hadn't blocked the Rain of Light, your wound would have worsened the moment you broke free from the Six Rods of Light. And Amamiya-san was already ready with his next attack."
Sentarō Kotsubaki clenched his fists tightly. Deep down, he knew what Captain Ukitake said was true… but that didn't make the sting of defeat any easier to swallow.
"Tch… yare yare," he muttered under his breath.
Just then, Kiyone Kotetsu dashed to his side, kneeling beside him and beginning to channel healing Kido into his shoulder with a gentle incantation. Her brows furrowed, but she didn't say anything—her silence said enough.
Captain Jūshirō Ukitake stepped forward, his usual kind smile resting easily on his face. "Amamiya Miyako, you've truly given me quite the surprise today."
"You flatter me, taichō," Miyako replied, his tone calm and composed. "It was all thanks to my Zanpakutō's abilities."
Of course, that was only half the truth.
There was no way Miyako would blurt out that what he had just used—a Kido cast through arrows—was a technique he had borrowed from observing Ishida Ryūken's Quincy methods. That's right—he had studied the way Ryūken manipulated Reishi with such precision and fused it into his own fighting style.
While Miyako couldn't yet manipulate ambient Reishi like the Quincies did, he found a workaround: by forming his arrows with his own spiritual energy and embedding Kido formulas into them before release, especially with the synergy of his Shikai, he could trigger Kido mid-flight.
A technique born from adaptation.
"…So then, taichō, does this mean…" Miyako began, his eyes calm but searching, waiting for the final verdict.
Ukitake gave a small laugh, then straightened his expression, speaking with clear authority.
"Your Zanpakutō is powerful. Your command of Reiryoku is impressive. But above all—your strategic insight is what truly impressed me." He paused, letting the silence hold. "Therefore, I officially appoint Amamiya Miyako, Fifth Seat of the Rain Palace, as the new Fukutaichō of the Thirteenth Division."
A wave of cheers erupted across the training field.
"Miyako-san!" "Yattaaa!" "Fukutaichō!"
Claps and excited shouts filled the air, but Miyako's gaze shifted toward the side—where Kiyone and Sentarō stood, still nursing the bruises on both body and pride.
He quietly stepped forward and bowed toward Ukitake. "Taichō, I have a small request."
"Oh?" Ukitake tilted his head with amusement. "As a Vice Captain, your requests carry weight now. Let's hear it."
Miyako turned his eyes to Sentarō and Kiyone. "I would like Kotsubaki-senpai and Kotetsu-senpai to continue with their original duties."
The field quieted again. Even Ukitake raised a brow. "Oh? That's rather unusual. As the newly appointed Fukutaichō, those duties would normally fall to you now."
"I'm not trying to avoid work," Miyako clarified quickly. "It's just… both senpai have served you and the Thirteenth Division for a long time. I've only just arrived. And let's be honest—I barely won today's match."
He offered a slight smile. "If they can continue assisting me and guiding me… I'm sure I won't make a mess of things."
Ukitake blinked, then let out a hearty laugh. "Maa maa… what a considerate new Fukutaichō we have." He turned to his long-time subordinates. "Well then, what do you two think?"
Sentarō and Kiyone glanced at each other, both stunned. Just moments ago, they had resigned themselves to being sidelined. They never expected Miyako to show such humility and awareness.
Kiyone gave a tiny smile and nodded. "We'd be honored, Miyako-san."
"It's our pleasure, Vice Captain!" Sentarō added with newfound respect.
Miyako waved a hand casually. "No need to be so formal. Just call me Miyako from now on. That goes for you too, Taichō."
Ukitake laughed again. "Then I suppose I'll be counting on you from now on… Miyako."