Bleach: The Fifth Division Captain

A Captain's Duel.

By nature, it was meant to serve as a fair and equal battleground for two equally qualified candidates of similar strength.

Since both parties sought the same goal—

Further words, schemes, and calculations were meaningless.

Stripped of all formalities, at this point, only the most direct form of confrontation—battle or slaughter—

Could determine the one true strongest.

However—

A contest meant to define power was now being used as an outlet for personal emotions.

This gave Yamamoto reason to hesitate.

How did Soul Society end up like this?

Was he being too particular about details, or had he simply fallen behind the times?

The thousand-year-old captain pondered in silence.

Meanwhile—

The gathered captains surveyed their surroundings.

Kyōraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jūshirō arrived together, glancing around before the former smirked.

"Didn't expect the fight to be held here of all places~"

It wasn't an unreasonable thought.

The chosen location was an exceptionally remote part of Seireitei.

Perched atop a high elevation, reaching this place required climbing a long series of stair-like corridors.

Upon arriving at the platform—

One would find a vast, oval-shaped area. From its edges, one could overlook nearly three-quarters of Seireitei.

It was an open, empty expanse—

Large enough to accommodate a thousand people, yet eerily desolate.

"The last time we were here… that was a long time ago."

Ukitake's words carried a weight of nostalgia.

His gaze fixed on a particular structure standing in the distance.

Following his line of sight, one would see an ancient, simplistic monument—

Standing over ten meters tall, silent and unchanged, as if it had existed since the dawn of time.

Kyōraku's expression deepened.

"That must've been over two hundred years ago."

"That long already…?"

After a brief pause, Ukitake's gaze softened, sorrow creeping into his voice.

"It seems Seireitei has been at peace for quite some time."

"It certainly has."

Not far away, Unohana Retsu stepped forward.

The ever-composed captain, usually reserved in conversation, displayed a rare hint of emotion.

She gazed at the distant monument, lips moving slightly—

Before offering a quiet, knowing smile.

Time flowed, seasons changed.

Everything in the world was ever-shifting, like a ceaseless river.

Never forced, but far more enduring than steel.

"As we grow older, we can't help but feel nostalgic when seeing relics of the past."

"..."

Kyōraku and Ukitake exchanged a glance, both caught off guard.

What a loaded statement.

Were they supposed to agree? Disagree?

Luckily, they didn't have to answer—

Because soon after, Aizen Sōsuke, Tōsen Kaname, and Komamura Sajin approached, greeting them.

"Good afternoon, fellow captains."

With his warm demeanor and gentle tone—

Aizen embodied the definition of refinement.

Kyōraku adjusted his hat, taking half a step forward with a smile.

"Oh, Aizen-fuku—ah, my mistake, Aizen-taichō now."

"Having someone as talented as you take on the role of captain is truly a blessing for Seireitei."

"But I must admit, I didn't expect you to transfer to the Third Division."

After a brief pause, the older captain's smile turned slightly mischievous.

"Any particular reason?"

His tone was casual, but the question was bold.

Ukitake coughed twice in warning.

Don't make things awkward, you lazy old man.

But—

Did Aizen really see this as an intrusion?

Not at all.

Pausing briefly, the refined captain appeared to reflect for a moment.

"If I had to explain…"

Kyōraku subtly tilted his head.

"Ah, no need to overthink it, Aizen-taichō. I was just making small talk."

"Perhaps, but it isn't a difficult topic to discuss."

Aizen's lips curved slightly, his expression remaining gentle.

"Remaining in the Fifth Division would have constantly reminded me of Captain Hirako. As his lieutenant, I was powerless to prevent what happened… Even now, just thinking about it brings me pain."

The air grew heavier.

Even Kyōraku, normally so carefree, sobered up.

The Hollowfication Incident had left a profound scar on Soul Society.

In terms of losses, it was one of the greatest tragedies in history.

History could not be treated as entertainment.

If it lost its gravity, there would be no lessons learned.

In this era, no one would support the notion of laughing away the past.

After all—

Would anyone watch a geisha perform and suddenly feel the urge to reflect on history?

Kyōraku lowered his head, eyes cast downward.

"I see… Then, I offer my condolences."

"Thank you for your concern, Kyōraku-taichō."

The heaviness in the air lingered.

Dwelling on the past was pointless—

But it was impossible to ignore entirely.

Seeking to shift the mood, Ukitake coughed and raised a hand, pointing toward the monument in the distance.

"On a different note—Aizen-taichō, Komamura-taichō, Tōsen-taichō—do you know what that is?"

Tōsen, being blind, naturally did not respond.

"..."

Komamura, hidden beneath his helmet, answered in a firm, measured tone.

"I do not."

There was something amusing about his excessively formal way of speaking.

Aizen, by contrast, lightly stroked his chin, looking thoughtful.

"Hmm… If I recall correctly, I may have some knowledge of it."

Kyōraku's curiosity sparked.

"Then, Aizen-taichō, what is it called? And what purpose does it serve?"

Aizen chuckled.

"Are you testing me, Kyōraku-taichō?"

"Come now, don't put it that way~ Let's just call it friendly banter. A little playfulness can help keep the mind young, after all."

Aizen smiled, appearing slightly amused.

Just as he was about to answer—

A cold, detached voice cut in.

"That… is the Zhe, isn't it?"

Kurotsuchi Mayuri stepped forward.

Though his appearance was slightly less grotesque than usual, his eccentric makeup still stood out.

His gaze locked onto the towering structure in the distance.

Expression unreadable, but his words were steady.

"I've only seen mention of it in academic readings. It's an archaic term—historically associated with a method of execution involving dismemberment."

"But that was in the Living World. In Soul Society, it has a different meaning."

Pausing briefly, he raised a finger and pointed.

"In short—"

"It's an execution platform, isn't it?"

Kyōraku's smile widened.

"My, my. I assumed you only cared about research, Kurotsuchi-taichō. Who knew you had an interest in history as well?"

"Being a researcher doesn't mean I'm an idiot. Basic knowledge is… basic knowledge."

Oof.

That one had some bite.

But it was still within Kyōraku's tolerance range.

"Fair enough. I'll be counting on you to enlighten me in the future, then."

"...Not interested."

Nothing was more frustrating than trying to argue with someone who simply didn't care.

Ignoring the exchange, Mayuri continued his analysis.

"That structure isn't standalone, is it?"

"Correct," Kyōraku agreed.

"It only appears during executions. But yes, it exists."

A symbol of power and punishment in Soul Society.

"Its full name is Sōkyoku."

A weapon of absolute destruction—

Consisting of a massive halberd and the Zhe execution platform.

Under the force of Sōkyoku—

Any soul would be completely erased.

No reincarnation, no cycle of rebirth.

Not even lingering spirit particles would remain.

Sōkyoku annihilated its victims—

Wiping them from existence entirely.

Mayuri's interest piqued.

"I've heard it possesses the destructive power of a million Zanpakutō. That would explain why it requires such a vast, isolated platform… How fascinating."

Ukitake let out a tired chuckle.

"If possible, I'd rather we never have to use it again…"

The captains continued their conversations.

Some were meeting for the first time, others reuniting after long periods.

But since they would all be working together—

Getting familiar with one another was necessary.

Even someone as eccentric as Mayuri adhered to this unwritten rule.

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Powerstones?

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