Zaraki Kenpachi's sudden entrance was beyond everyone's expectations—yet, at the same time, entirely in character.
After all, how could he possibly ignore the presence of such a powerful reiatsu? The mere scent of a strong opponent was enough to make his blood boil.
Those who had witnessed Akira's battle firsthand—Hitsugaya Tōshirō and Komamura Sajin among them—couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu.
"This is just like Zaraki," Hitsugaya muttered. "No tricks—just pure brute force."
Akira, however, remained unshaken. Even after decisively defeating Kuchiki Byakuya, his reiatsu still burned fiercely—more than half of his power remained untapped. He had no reason to retreat from another challenge.
"So, you're the captain of the Eleventh Division?" he asked, his voice edged with provocation. "If you're here to challenge me for the title—like Byakuya just did—I have no objections."
The air crackled with tension. Zaraki's grin stretched wider, almost feral.
"Yeah! Beat me, and the captain's haori's yours!"
"Nonsense!" A stern voice cut through the rising heat of the moment. "No one may hold captaincy over two divisions simultaneously!"
It was Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni. His voice carried the full weight of his authority. "This matter ends here."
The order was absolute—but every captain present knew better. When had Zaraki Kenpachi ever obeyed orders?
For a heartbeat, Zaraki went quiet. Then, to everyone's astonishment, he shrugged. "Fine. No fight today."
A collective pause rippled through the courtyard.
Did he just… back down?
Even Yamamoto's brow furrowed slightly in surprise.
But of course—Kenpachi was still Kenpachi.
"You already fought," he said, eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Your reiatsu's worn thin. If we clash now, it won't be fun." He turned, already walking away. "Rest up. I'll find you tomorrow—in the Sixth Division."
With that, he vanished as abruptly as he'd appeared.
Tōshirō exhaled sharply. "This is going to be a disaster… Captain Akira, good luck."
Now that Akira had been formally recognized as the Sixth Division's new captain—personally appointed by the Head Captain—Tōshirō and the others adjusted their stance accordingly.
Before departing, Yamamoto gave his final directive: "As captain, you may appoint your own lieutenant. Make your choice and oversee the transition."
As the crowd dispersed, the Fourth Division arrived—led by Captain Unohana Retsu herself—to tend to Byakuya's injuries.
"I've heard what transpired," Unohana said, her gaze settling on Akira. "Being marked by Captain Zaraki is never a fortunate omen."
She paused, choosing her next words with care.
"When he comes for you—and he will—do not hesitate to yield if the battle turns against you," she advised gently. "There is no shame in retreating from him."
Then, with a small, knowing smile, she added, "After all, I'd rather not treat two Sixth Division captains in succession."
Even after witnessing Akira's overwhelming victory over Byakuya, Unohana held no illusions about what awaited him in a duel with Zaraki Kenpachi.
Her warning wasn't born of doubt—it was the hard-won wisdom of the First Kenpachi.
For Zaraki Kenpachi bore a title that meant one thing above all else:
The strongest warrior in Soul Society.
Akira remained noncommittal. His previous battle hadn't demanded his full strength. His most powerful technique—the power of the Thunder Fruit—was his trump card, and he had no intention of revealing it for a mere victory over Byakuya Kuchiki.
"If it's Zaraki Kenpachi next… things could get tricky without it."
As he weighed his thoughts, members of the Sixth Division approached with cautious reverence, their expressions wide with awe. They had just witnessed history—an unprecedented upheaval in their squad's leadership. The sheer might Akira had displayed was now seared into their memories like a brand.
"Captain… what are your orders?"
Abarai Renji spoke haltingly, still reeling from the reality of Akira as his new superior. He'd never imagined that in the span of a single clash, his captain would fall—and that the man now standing before him would claim Byakuya Kuchiki's place.
Akira shot him a glance. "What else? Return to your duties. All of you—back to your posts."
At his command, the division members dispersed without hesitation.
For Akira, the next step was formal: assuming his role as captain in full. His current quarters—barely used—would soon be replaced by the Sixth Division Captain's official residence: an elegant estate with a sweeping courtyard and meticulously tended gardens. Captains of the Gotei 13 occupied the highest tier of Soul Society's military hierarchy, and their privileges reflected that stature.
Because Byakuya had always resided within the Kuchiki clan compound, the Sixth Division's captain's quarters had stood vacant—pristine, untouched, and waiting. Now, they belonged to Akira. After instructing attendants to prepare the residence, he made his way to receive his captain's haori: the white haori emblazoned with the insignia of his new command.
Back in his quarters, Akira settled the garment over his shoulders. The bold black "六" on its back rippled in the breeze—a silent yet unmistakable proclamation of his authority as Captain of the Sixth Division.
But before he could settle in, an unexpected visitor appeared at the gate.
Standing beneath the archway was a man clad in a captain's haori, his demeanor calm, his wire-rimmed glasses catching the light. A warm, easy smile played at his lips—but there was something unreadable behind it.
The two Sixth Division guards at the entrance immediately stiffened, snapping into rigid salutes, their unease palpable.
The man lifted a hand, brushing aside the formality with a gentle wave. Then, in a voice smooth as silk yet carrying unmistakable weight, he said:
"Would you be so kind as to inform Captain Akira… that Sōsuke Aizen, Captain of the Fifth Division, has come to pay his respects?"