CHAPTER 53:Fierce Means, Destroy the Knot and Soul Sleep!
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When Shiraha first arrived at the Seventh Division, his challenge against Komamura Sajin and subsequent appointment as captain had shaken the squad to its core. Though none voiced it aloud, a subtle unease lingered among the ranks—after all, their new leader had defeated their former captain in front of the entire Gotei 13. Doubt was natural. And today, Ichikanbanjibō had practically handed Shiraha the perfect opportunity to establish authority.
"Captain Shiraha, please... it was just a lapse in duty. A moment of poor judgment. Perhaps a warning would suffice," Iba Tetsuzaemon interjected carefully, unable to watch his comrade's fate unfold without trying to intervene. But Shiraha halted him with a raised hand and a cold gaze.
"Third Seat Iba," Shiraha said calmly, "you understand our division's role, don't you? We exist to protect Seireitei. Now look at him." He motioned to Ichikanbanjibō, who reeked of alcohol and stood swaying with glazed eyes. "Tell me—does this look like a man fit to defend anything?"
Tetsuzaemon sighed inwardly. He had hoped for leniency, but Shiraha's tone left no room for negotiation. The decision was made.
Two squad members stepped forward wordlessly, stripping Ichikanbanjibō of his uniform and Zanpakutō in accordance with Seireitei regulation. There was no such thing as a Shinigami resignation. Once one's status was revoked and they were expelled from Seireitei, their Zanpakutō—being a physical extension of their soul—was confiscated immediately.
"You little punk think you can strip me of my Shinigami status?" Ichikanbanjibō suddenly snapped awake, rage flashing through the haze of alcohol. "You don't have that kind of authority!"
Unaware of what had occurred during his absence, he hadn't known Shiraha was now officially the division's captain. When Chōjirō Sasakibe delivered the appointment orders earlier that day, Ichikanbanjibō had been out drinking. He had missed the transition, and now he was paying for it.
"Captain Shiraha defeated Captain Komamura," Iba said sternly. "He's your superior now. Show some respect."
But Ichikanbanjibō's bloodshot eyes narrowed with violent intent. "I don't care who you are! You want to take away my status? I'll kill you first!"
As he raised his hands, spiritual energy began to swirl—raw, undisciplined, and reckless.
"Hadō #31: Shakkahō!" he roared, bypassing the incantation. A ball of crimson flame exploded from his hands and tore through the air toward Shiraha.
Shiraha didn't flinch. A single snort of contempt left his lips. "Pathetic."
"Ichikanbanjibō, that's enough!" Iba shouted, reacting instantly. "Bakudō #39: Enkōsen!"
A circular golden barrier formed before Shiraha, effortlessly intercepting the fireball and scattering it in a burst of harmless light. But the moment the spell dissipated, Shiraha vanished from view.
With a single flash of Shunpo, he appeared at Ichikanbanjibō's side, blade already drawn and mid-swing. A gleam of light and a burst of steel rang out.
Blood spattered across the flagstones as Ichikanbanjibō collapsed, a deep wound carved through his chest. Shiraha's blade had already been sheathed before the others could even register the cut.
"M-My spiritual power..." the fallen Shinigami croaked, eyes wide as his hands clutched his chest. "You... you destroyed my Saketsu and Hakusui..."
The courtyard fell silent.
Everyone understood what that meant.
A Shinigami's power came from two critical points of spiritual flow: the Saketsu (Knot) and Hakusui (Soul Sleep). To destroy both was to sever the soul's connection to Reiatsu. Even if his physical body recovered, Ichikanbanjibō would never wield spiritual power again. His days as a Shinigami were over—forever.
"By Gotei law," Shiraha said calmly, "attacking a seated captain is a capital offense. However, I will not take his life today. He is to be delivered to Squad One and await formal sentencing by the Captain-Commander."
"Yes, Captain Shiraha!" Two nearby squad members moved quickly, lifting the unconscious Ichikanbanjibō and carrying him from the courtyard.
The rest of the Seventh Division stood frozen in place. No one dared speak. No one even exhaled.
On his first day, Shiraha had not only defeated the division's former leader, but also removed its fourth seat—permanently. His actions had carved a line through the squad's structure and sent a message that no one could ignore. Fear, awe, and caution warred in every heart.
"You all saw what happened," Iba announced, sensing the anxiety rippling through the group. "Ichikanbanjibō disobeyed orders, shirked his duties, spoke out of turn, and attacked the captain directly. This outcome was his own doing. You have nothing to fear as long as you serve with honor."
Though he tried to ease their nerves, even Iba had to admit that Shiraha's response had been uncompromising.
Still, the truth remained: Ichikanbanjibō had not only abandoned his post to drink, he had then attempted to strike down his commanding officer in front of the entire squad. According to the rules of Seireitei, his punishment was justified—and perhaps even merciful.
Shiraha, standing before the assembled team, allowed a small smile to form on his lips. "Iba's right. If Ichikanbanjibō had accepted his punishment quietly, he would've been stripped of his title and allowed to leave Seireitei alive. But he chose otherwise. If you give me respect, I will return it. If you threaten my squad, I'll act without hesitation."
As if on cue, the murmurs among the squad began to shift.
"The third seat's right... Ichikanbanjibō asked for it."
"Attacking a captain? Idiot didn't even know what he was doing."
"He had no discipline. We're better off without him."
"He embarrassed the division more than anyone else."
Confidence slowly returned to the Seventh Division. Their fear didn't vanish completely—but it was tempered now by a growing respect.
"Return to your duties," Shiraha said, voice even once more. "Iba will oversee the restructuring of seats."
"Yes, Captain Shiraha!" The squad bowed once more, then dispersed, each member slipping back into their routine with renewed urgency and discipline.
Once the courtyard had cleared, Shiraha approached a nearby tatami mat and sat, his hands resting lightly on his knees. Iba remained standing.
"Captain Shiraha," he said cautiously, "do you think... maybe it was a bit too harsh?"
Shiraha looked up at him calmly. "I understand your concern. But let me ask you something, Iba—when I challenged Komamura Sajin, do you think I acted on impulse?"
"I... don't think so."
"Correct. Before I ever stepped into this division, I made it my business to understand it—its members, its strengths, and its flaws. And in doing so, I uncovered more than just rank listings."
He reached into his uniform and pulled out a folded document, tossing it lightly to Iba.
"This is a record of Ichikanbanjibō's misconduct—actions committed outside the walls of Seireitei. Abuse of position, extortion, even harassment of civilians. You've been here too long, Iba. You've spent so much time protecting the division that you never noticed the rot within it."
Iba's eyes widened as he read through the damning pages. "I... had no idea. I didn't know."
"I don't blame you. You weren't looking for it. But I was. And what I found told me that Ichikanbanjibō wasn't just sloppy or disrespectful—he was corrupt."
"I apologize, Captain Shiraha. I thought your judgment stemmed from pride or ambition... I was wrong." He bowed deeply, shame plain on his face.
"There's no need to apologize," Shiraha said, standing slowly. "I told you this so you'd understand—my methods may be strict, but they are not without reason. I aim to rebuild this squad into something worthy of Seireitei's protection. Starting today."
He turned toward the gate, his white haori fluttering gently in the breeze.
"Now come. We're visiting Komamura. He's recovering, and I owe him more than a victory."
Without waiting for a reply, Shiraha walked out of the courtyard.
Iba followed silently behind, his doubts silenced—and his respect deepened.
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