"Argh! Argh! Argh!"
Inside the Eleventh Division's training hall, a loud crash echoed as 4th Seat Nomura was sent flying backward, skidding across the tatami floor. The surrounding squad members stiffened, eyes wide, none daring to step forward.
"Oi, oi… even the 4th Seat lost?" one muttered nervously. "Who was the baka spreading rumors that the Thirteenth Division has no successors?" "But… the guy's only been in the Thirteenth Division for less than two years…" "Idiot! I heard he became fukutaichō by defeating a 3rd Seat in another division!" "Che… if only taichō and Yachiru-fukutaichō weren't out, and if Madarame-san and Ayasegawa-san weren't away with Abarai-fukutaichō, this wouldn't be happening."
Amamiya Miyako stood calmly in the center, glancing at the groaning Nomura. Yare yare…
After Kiyone-chan and Sentarō-san had complained to him about the Eleventh Division's insults, Miyako had gone to confirm the details with other Thirteenth Division members. He found out the root cause was… himself.
Apparently, some Eleventh Division members thought the Thirteenth had just randomly picked a weakling to be fukutaichō to save face. Since Miyako's appointment hadn't been widely announced yet, they assumed his strength was laughable.
If I ignore this… the rumors will only grow worse, Miyako thought. After a brief discussion with Ukitake-taichō, he decided to end the mockery once and for all—on the Eleventh Division's own turf.
The Eleventh respected only one thing: sheer power. That meant a polite talk wouldn't work. If he wanted their respect, he'd have to earn it with steel.
Of course, Miyako had considered the risks. Zaraki Kenpachi-taichō was, without a doubt, on a completely different level—someone Miyako couldn't defeat yet. But Zaraki wouldn't waste his time on weaker opponents. Kusajishi Yachiru-fukutaichō rarely fought seriously, and when she did, it was unpredictable.
That left Madarame Ikkaku—the strongest likely opponent available. Perfect for Miyako's purposes.
"Oi," Miyako called out to the crowd, "I hear your 3rd Seat's not here right now?"
"Y-yeah! If Madarame-san were here, you'd regret setting foot in the Eleventh!" one shouted, trying to sound threatening but failing miserably.
Miyako smirked, sheathing his dual Zanpakutō and sitting cross-legged on the floor. "I'll wait right here. Go get him."
The Eleventh Division members glanced at each other before one finally barked, "Move it! Get Madarame-san!" Several bolted for the door.
While waiting, Miyako let his mind wander. In truth, this challenge wasn't just about pride—it was also a rare chance to test his zanjutsu against a seasoned warrior. Within the Thirteenth, only Sentarō and Rukia could give him a decent match, but Sentarō was always busy with duties, and Rukia's zanjutsu had plateaued for some time.
Ikkaku, on the other hand, was a true combat specialist. If anyone could help Miyako sharpen his skills, it was him.
After a short while, the room parted like the sea as three figures stepped in.
"Oi, oi, you guys are pathetic," Ikkaku said, rubbing his polished bald head with a sigh. "So many of you, and not a single win? You're making me look bad."
"Mm… such unsightly behavior," Yumichika added with a disapproving glance, brushing a hand through his hair.
Abarai Renji followed behind, blinking when he spotted Miyako. "Huh? Miyako? You're the one stirring up trouble here?"
"Oi, kid, state your name! To walk into the Eleventh Division and throw down a challenge… heh, I respect that as a man!" Madarame Ikkaku stepped forward, resting a hand on his Zanpakutō.
"You're the 3rd Seat, Madarame-san, right? I am Amamiya Miyako, Vice Captain of the Thirteenth Division. I've come to seek… guidance." Miyako rose smoothly to his feet, twin blades glinting at his sides.
"Vice Captain, huh? Interesting. I didn't expect anyone from your division to show up here. Don't you know the Eleventh was born for battle?" Ikkaku grinned, his tone somewhere between mockery and excitement.
"I didn't want to, but your squad members keep mocking my division. As Vice Captain, I can't just ignore it."
"Oh? Is that so?" Ikkaku glanced around. A few members flinched, suddenly fascinated by the floor. "…Tch, never mind the reason. Doesn't matter to me." His grin widened. "It's been a while since we had a proper challenge. Let's have a good match!" He reached for his hilt—
"Wait, Ikkaku-san." Abarai Renji stepped forward, planting Zabimaru's sheath against the ground.
"Renji? You trying to steal my fight?" Ikkaku frowned.
"Sorry, Ikkaku-san. But I've been wanting to test myself against this guy." Renji's eyes fixed on Miyako, sharp with curiosity. "I want to see for myself how he became Vice Captain so fast."
"Hmph… fine. Just this once. But if you lose, I'm taking my turn—and I won't hold back." Ikkaku stepped aside, folding his arms.
"How unusual, Ikkaku," Yumichika Ayasegawa chuckled behind him. "Letting someone else have the first round? That's not like you."
"…Shut it," Ikkaku muttered.
The training ground cleared, leaving Miyako and Renji standing face to face.
"Abarai-kun, I heard you're about to be named Vice Captain of the Sixth Division. Omedetō," Miyako said lightly. "Rukia-chan wanted to congratulate you herself, but she's heading out on a mission."
"Rukia?" Renji blinked. "Vice Captain Amamiya… what's your relationship with her?"
"Relationship? Hm… let's just say she's a junior I've been looking out for."
"So… her recovery was because of you?"
"I only gave that stubborn baka a little advice," Miyako replied, waving it off. He had no intention of telling Renji the full story.
"I see…" Renji's lips curled in a faint smile, though there was a shadow in his eyes. Good for her… but I still have a long way to go.
"Enough talk, Abarai-kun. Ikuzo."
Renji exhaled, drawing Zabimaru in one fluid motion. With a sharp kiai, he stepped in and slashed downward.
Miyako caught the strike with one blade, feeling the weight behind it. Yare yare… even with one hand, that's not easy to parry. But this is exactly what I wanted.
His second blade swept low toward Renji's side.
Renji's eyes widened. "Twin blades…" He pushed off the ground, retreating in a flash of shunpō.
"That's right," Miyako said, lowering his stance. "If you think it's unfair, we can switch to bokken ."
Renji's mouth twisted into a smirk. "No need. This is fine."
With a roar, he launched forward again—Zabimaru striking harder, faster, each clash echoing through the dojo as sparks flew.