"Captain Ichimaru, change the Kidō. This doesn't match the parameters of this assessment," Chōjirō Sasakibe said, frowning deeply.

The Kidō examination they had established for Shiraha ranged strictly between Bakudō and Hadō numbers one to sixty. That was already harsh. Typically, for graduation, students only needed to demonstrate control of Kidō in the range of one to forty. Even those aspiring to join the Kidō Corps only needed mastery up to fifty.

"You could let Shiraha-kun choose," Ichimaru Gin suggested with a bright, unreadable smile. "If he's unwilling, I'll propose something else. But if he agrees…"

Chōjirō raised an eyebrow, not replying immediately. He turned his attention toward Shiraha, waiting to see his response.

Shiraha stood calm and composed below the viewing platform, eyes trained on the captain. "Since it's Captain Ichimaru's personal request, I'll give it a try."

He couldn't quite determine what Ichimaru's real intentions were, but he wasn't afraid either. Bakudō #81: Danku—Splitting Void—was indeed a high-level Kidō, but Shiraha had already managed to cast it, albeit with difficulty, when his template progress had been at 50%. Now, at 70%, his Reiatsu had grown exponentially. Casting Danku now would be even easier.

"Then let the assessment begin," Sasakibe declared, voice even.

Now that Shiraha himself had agreed to the proposed trial, there was no longer cause for interference. If anything, Chōjirō was also curious to see just how deep Shiraha's Kidō talent ran.

"Bakudō #81—Danku!"

Shiraha raised his right hand and released the spell without incantation.

In an instant, a massive, translucent barrier of spiritual energy formed before him, shimmering like tempered crystal under moonlight. The examiners shot to their feet, eyes wide.

None of them had expected Shiraha to forgo the chant entirely—and yet, the spell was cast flawlessly.

"A Kidō of this level… without incantation?" murmured the elder to the left. "That's incredible."

"Kuchiki Shiraha's talent in Kidō is beyond exceptional," added another, stroking his beard. "It's no wonder Captain Yamamoto values him."

Sasakibe didn't speak, but the glint in his eyes said more than words. He had come to oversee this assessment on direct orders from Captain-Commander Yamamoto himself. If Shiraha passed every trial, the First Division intended to recruit him immediately.

Ichimaru Gin's eyes narrowed slightly, though the ever-present smile never left his face. "Impressive, Shiraha-kun. You really can do it."

Without warning, Gin raised his hand and spoke. "Hadō #54—Haien."

The green, disc-shaped flame of spiritual destruction exploded from his palm, chanting abandoned. The projectile soared through the air and struck Shiraha's barrier head-on.

BOOM!

The explosion echoed across the field, and smoke rose—but when the haze cleared, the Danku wall remained entirely unscathed. The green flames had dispersed harmlessly into the air.

"Captain Ichimaru! Explain yourself!"

Chōjirō Sasakibe had already drawn his Zanpakutō, eyes blazing. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Gin had moved too quickly. Most of the examiners were still in awe of Shiraha's chantless casting and hadn't expected Gin to act—let alone attack a student mid-assessment. Even with a chantless Haien, the risk was substantial.

The four elders beside Sasakibe rose to their feet in unison, faces dark with outrage. In an official Kidō evaluation, no outside interference was permitted—not even from a captain. If Gin failed to give a valid reason, all five officials were prepared to act in concert and detain him for violating Seireitei regulations.

Gin raised his hands, feigning innocence. "Now, now, Vice-Captain Sasakibe, don't be so uptight. I was merely testing the integrity of Shiraha-kun's Danku. You must admit—it was stable."

Though his tone remained light, a flicker of seriousness crossed Gin's face as he glanced at the undisturbed barrier. Haien was no trivial spell, even without a chant. That it hadn't so much as left a ripple…

Shiraha's Kidō proficiency wasn't a fluke—it was real, refined, and dangerously advanced.

"Hmph. Let that be your only 'test,' Captain Ichimaru," Sasakibe said coldly, sheathing his Zanpakutō before returning to his seat.

"No problem," Gin replied smoothly, folding his arms behind his back.

The rest of the Kidō assessment proceeded with professionalism. This time, Sasakibe and the other examiners made certain to stick to regulation. Shiraha was asked to cast Hadō #54: Haien and Hadō #58: Tenran. Both were executed cleanly and efficiently. As for Bakudō, no further demonstration was deemed necessary. His earlier use of Danku spoke louder than any mid-level spell ever could.

Kaido—the healing branch of Kidō—was not evaluated, as Shiraha, being from the Kuchiki clan, had no intention of entering the Fourth Division.

"Kuchiki Shiraha, second assessment: passed," Chōjirō Sasakibe announced, his voice loud and clear across the arena.

"Thank you, examiners," Shiraha said with a bow. "I'm ready for the next stage."

Sasakibe nodded and raised a hand. "The final trial is somewhat different from the rest. You will be facing a live combat evaluation. If you can last ten minutes… against your opponent, you will be considered qualified."

He turned his gaze to the side. "Captain Ichimaru will serve as your opponent."

A hush fell.

Everyone knew this was the heart of the test. Ichimaru Gin wasn't just a captain—he was a cunning, precise, and dangerous fighter, even without revealing his Bankai.

"Yo, Shiraha-kun, looks like we're fighting again," Gin said brightly, flashing beside Shiraha in an instant with a casual Shunpo.

Their previous match had ended in Gin's defeat—but back then, neither had fought at full strength. Gin hadn't used Bankai, and Shiraha's system template was only 20% complete. The outcome now would be far less predictable.

"Captain Ichimaru," Shiraha said with a respectful nod, "please guide me well."

Before the match could begin, however, a thunderous voice rang across the training grounds.

"Which one of you is Kuchiki Shiraha?!"

A monstrous pressure surged in the air as a towering man stormed into the practice field, wild black hair tied in thick spikes, each strand adorned with bells that jingled ominously. A thick scar ran down the left side of his face, and an eye patch covered his right eye. His sleeveless captain's haori was torn at the hem, flaring with every step he took.

Slung across his shoulder was a tiny pink-haired girl with gleaming black eyes and a playful grin, casually chewing on a candy stick.

Zaraki Kenpachi had arrived.

And he was looking for a fight.