As soon as those words left his mouth, the surrounding Shinigami fell momentarily silent, stunned into disbelief.
Had Akira really just challenge a captain?
Byakuya Kuchiki—head of the Kuchiki Clan, one of the Four Great Noble Houses of Soul Society?
"Heh… Is this some vendetta against the nobility?" someone muttered under their breath.
Byakuya let out a quiet scoff, his expression unreadable. To him, this reeked of youthful defiance—a rebellion born not of principle, but resentment toward the noble class.
And yet… so be it.
Though he had never personally moved against Akira, Byakuya had tacitly allowed the actions of the other noble houses. Now, however, the boy had handed him a legitimate reason to intervene—under the law, no less. A public reminder that the authority of the Gotei 13, and the nobility it protected, was not to be tested lightly.
"It is indeed permitted under Gotei 13 regulations," Byakuya said, his voice colder than winter steel. "I accept your challenge."
Within the Gotei 13, there were only three recognized paths to captaincy:
—Passing the captain proficiency exam before at least three sitting captains, including the Commander-General.
—Receiving nominations from six captains, with approval from three others.
—Or, as Akira had invoked: defeating a current captain in formal combat, witnessed by at least two hundred members of the Gotei 13.
"Bold," Byakuya remarked. "Clear the area. I will not risk collateral damage."
Akira stood firm, his Zanpakutō held with quiet resolve. "Unnecessary. This fight won't touch a single bystander."
A ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd.
Arrogant…
Does he not realize he's facing Kuchiki Byakuya?
From the edge of the courtyard, Renji Abarai crossed his arms and scoffed. "Captain's Shikai alone could end this before it begins."
It was common knowledge: Byakuya's Senbonzakura ranked among the most lethal Shikai in Soul Society. While many Shinigami wielded Zanpakutō with modest Shikai releases, Byakuya—with his elite training and noble discipline—had refined his blade to the point where even his Shikai rivaled the Bankai of lesser captains.
"You'll regret this," Akira murmured—not to Byakuya, but to himself.
Without another word, Byakuya drew his Zanpakutō and pointed its tip toward the ground.
"Scatter, Senbonzakura."
Instantly, the blade dissolved into thousands of razor-edged cherry blossoms, swirling into a lethal storm of pink. The petals shimmered with deceptive beauty, masking the overwhelming killing intent coiled within. In a heartbeat, they surged toward Akira—a tidal wave of death.
"Akira's done for!" someone cried.
But before the petals could strike—Byakuya's eyes narrowed.
Gone.
The sakura sliced through empty air. And then—
A chill traced the back of Byakuya's neck.
Silence. Absolute.
Akira stood directly behind him.
"...What?" Byakuya's pupils contracted. He hadn't seen the movement—hadn't even sensed the reiatsu shift until the blade was already there.
Cold steel rested against his throat.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Did… did he just use Shunpo?"
Renji's jaw dropped. That speed… It's faster than Captain Ukitake's!
Akira's voice cut through the stillness like a whisper through snow.
"Your 'no-wound zone'—the 85-centimeter radius where Senbonzakura's petals refuse to cut for fear of striking you… impressive."
Byakuya's fingers tightened around the hilt of his Zanpakutō.
Akira narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "The moment you stepped into this space uninvited, your fate was sealed—you will be beheaded."
His words struck Byakuya Kuchiki like a blade to the chest. For the first time in decades, the captain's composure cracked, giving way to sheer disbelief.
How could he know that?!
Before Byakuya could process the implication, Akira calmly sheathed his blade.
"Defeating you like this wouldn't be convincing enough," he remarked. "Let me clear the battlefield first."
The instant the words left his lips, Akira drove the Sword of Vowed Victory into the earth.
"Wind, howl!"
A surge of spiritual pressure—dense, ancient, and overwhelming—exploded outward. The Wind King's Barrier expanded far beyond its usual limits, tearing through the air like a living storm. From the epicenter, a colossal tornado erupted, spiraling violently into the heavens. Unprepared Shinigami were swept up in an instant, flung thousands of meters away. Most crashed to the ground dazed but conscious—just distant enough to witness what was coming.
"What in the—?!"
Outside the Sixth Division's headquarters, Mayuri Kurotsuchi and Nemu Kurotsuchi arrived only to be met with gale-force winds shredding the courtyard. Had they not been seasoned combatants, they too would've been hurled aside like chaff.
Mayuri's eyes narrowed, a twisted grin curling across his face. "Akira… so you really dared to act within the Sixth Division's territory?"
His mind raced with glee—this was the perfect opportunity to observe Akira's Zanpakutō in action.
He dashed forward, arriving just in time to see the two warriors standing apart, locked in a silent clash of wills.
Byakuya, usually the epitome of icy control, now seethed with barely contained rage. His pride—as captain of the Sixth Division and head of the Kuchiki Clan—had been insulted in the most public, humiliating way possible.
His voice, frigid with uncharacteristic fury, cut through the wind:
"A moment ago… you had the perfect chance to end me. Yet you cast it aside with arrogance. That insult—I will not forget it."
A crushing wave of spiritual pressure erupted from him, dense enough to buckle the ground beneath his feet. Akira's casual dismissal felt like a backhanded declaration:
"Even at your peak, you're nothing to me."
Such contempt was unforgivable.
Byakuya's eyes darkened. If Akira thought he could toy with him, he would soon learn the cost of underestimating a Kuchiki.
"Bankai… Senbonzakura Kageyoshi!"
He released his sword. It vanished into the earth, and from the impact point, enormous mirrored blades rose like monoliths. In a flash, they shattered into a storm of countless razor-sharp petals—far denser, far deadlier than his Shikai.
From the sidelines, Mayuri watched with gleaming eyes. "To resort to Bankai… against someone who isn't even a vice-captain?"
His curiosity deepened as he replayed Byakuya's words in his mind. This wasn't just anger—it was desperation.
Yet standing before this tidal wave of lethal sakura, Akira didn't flinch. His expression remained calm, almost serene.
"This isn't arrogance," he said coolly. "It's simply reality. Only by defeating you at your full strength will the world acknowledge mine."
Byakuya's eyes flashed. "That is arrogance!"
"Since I've unleashed my Bankai," he continued, voice trembling with controlled wrath, "I'll grant you the courtesy of releasing your Zanpakutō as well."
Akira merely tightened his grip on the Sword of Vowed Victory—a faint, confident smile tugging at his lips.
"That won't be necessary."
His spiritual pressure sharpened, cutting through the storm like a blade through silk.
"Because this battle," he said, voice low but absolute, "will be over in mere moments."