Bleach: No Cure

Soul Society. Shin'o Academy. The main auditorium.

At that moment, a large group of graduates had gathered for their graduation ceremony. For these future Shinigami, it was also one of the most important turning points of their lives: choosing a Division.

For a Shinigami, joining a Division was not exactly marriage. No one swore to stay with one unit until death. Still, without a convincing reason, an ordinary Shinigami's request to transfer divisions was almost always rejected.

And with some of the more temperamental captains, there was no such thing as divorce.

Only widowhood.

The elderly headmaster of Shin'o Academy was still speaking at length, reminding the solemn rows of graduates to choose their divisions carefully, when a hulking man stepped in from the side of the stage.

He wore a battered haori. His face was vicious, his hair stood in jagged spikes, and one glance was enough to mark him as trouble in human form. Without the slightest hesitation, he shoved the old headmaster aside, cocked his head, and snapped, "Enough yapping. I'm just about out of patience."

Then, completely ignoring the headmaster's ugly expression, the man looked down at the mass of graduates below. His beastlike gaze swept across their still-green faces.

"What a pain. Anyway, I cut down the old captain of the Eleventh Division, Kenpachi Kiganjo. I'm the new captain now: Kenpachi Zaraki."

The scar on Zaraki's face twitched.

His words sounded almost casual. That was what made them terrifying. More than a few graduates started trembling before they even realized it.

To ordinary graduates of Shin'o Academy, becoming a seated officer in the Gotei 13 was already a remarkable achievement. Rising to lieutenant, much less becoming a captain, was an ambition so distant it barely counted as a dream.

Yet the vicious man standing before them had killed a captain.

And through that brutal method, he had become a new captain himself.

Gulp.

A quiet wave of swallowing moved through the graduates. Kenpachi's mouth split into a grin.

"A lot of people in my Eleventh Division are dead. If any of you brats like fighting and killing, join my Division."

It should have sounded like an invitation.

Coming from Zaraki, it sounded more like a naked threat. The meaning behind it was painfully clear.

'Join up... or I'll cut you down.'

For a moment, the entire auditorium fell into dead silence. It was as if a cold wind had swept through the room. The graduates stared at the massive figure on the stage, fear showing plainly in their eyes.

'The Eleventh Division had that many openings?'

'Had the new captain taken a blade to his own ranks and washed the place in blood?'

Just as the atmosphere sank into a painful standstill, a tiny girl with pink hair suddenly popped out from behind Kenpachi and settled herself on his shoulder. She patted his savage-looking head with one small hand and pouted.

"Kenny, you're scaring them."

To the graduates' surprise, the man who looked like a demon did not get angry at the pink-haired girl's boldness at all. He merely folded his arms and said without concern, "Anyone who gets scared off fighting and bloodshed just because of something I said doesn't deserve to serve under me."

"No, no, no. That's no good, Kenny. If this keeps up, the Eleventh Division won't have anyone left to play with me..."

As she spoke, the pink-haired girl turned a sweet smile toward the graduates. The cute flush on her cheeks seemed to deepen, and her bright, clear voice rang out.

"Hey, hey. I'm Yachiru Kusajishi, lieutenant of the Eleventh Division. You should all join the Eleventh Division and play with me."

In an instant, Yachiru's cuteness hit the graduates with startling force. Quite a few of them could not help but let their eyes light up.

For graduates of Shin'o Academy, basic information on the Gotei 13 was mandatory material.

However, Zaraki had only recently challenged the former Eleventh Division captain, Kenpachi Kiganjo, in public and killed him to claim the captain's seat. The news had not yet fully reached Shin'o Academy, which meant this year's graduates still had no real understanding of Captain Zaraki or Lieutenant Kusajishi.

And when they realized that the battle-obsessed Eleventh Division, famous for its muscleheads and hard men, somehow had such a cute pink-haired lieutenant, several graduates who were already not opposed to fighting and bloodshed started to waver.

'She looked almost like Captain Zaraki's own daughter. If someone managed to win the pink-haired lieutenant's favor, wouldn't he be set?'

'Win the little lieutenant over, get extra attention from the Division captain, and becoming a seated officer might not even be the limit. With enough luck, even the next captain's seat might be within reach...'

Mixed in among the graduates, Akira Morisawa noticed the sudden interest shining in many of his classmates' eyes and quietly tucked his head down. He did his best to make himself seem unremarkable, avoiding any chance of catching Zaraki's or Yachiru's attention.

'Play with Yachiru?'

'He'd probably be broken before he even knew what hit him.'

Others might not understand them, but Akira knew both of them very well.

Zaraki was a battle-crazed beast obsessed with pure combat and slaughter.

Yachiru was the pink-haired child Kenpachi had taken in. Her personality carried a mischievous streak, and she loved giving people all kinds of nicknames.

But Yachiru's true identity was unusually mysterious. She seemed to share an inseparable connection with Zaraki. In Akira's memories from his previous life, plenty of theories pointed toward one answer: this wildly popular pink-haired lieutenant was very likely the Bankai manifestation of Kenpachi's Zanpakuto.

None of that had much to do with Akira.

He had already decided which Division he wanted to join, and what his goal would be.

After the improvised recruitment pitches from Captain Zaraki and Lieutenant Kusajishi, the representatives from the other Divisions finally began taking turns with their own remarks.

Of course, unlike Kenpachi's deeply unreliable invitation, the other representatives spoke about more practical matters: the responsibilities that came with joining their divisions, benefits, work environments, chances for promotion, and so on.

After all, the graduates did have some room to choose for themselves.

It was just like romance. In the Head Captain's ideal, choosing a Division was supposed to be mutual: the Division offered attractive terms, and the graduates put their bodies on the line. Perfectly reasonable.

Naturally, unlike the Eleventh Division, whose captain had personally shown up, most of the other Divisions had only sent seated officers. At most, a few had sent lieutenants. No other captain had come in person.

That, too, was normal.

Across all of Soul Society, captains stood at the peak of the Shinigami. The ordinary process of fresh graduates choosing their divisions was never going to attract captains with normal priorities.

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