had been two weeks since Kukaku had walked into Squad 8 like a lion cub forced into the royal court. But Shunsui's patient tutelage, layered with charm and shadow, had begun working. She still swore under her breath and frowned more than smiled, but her posture had changed. Her words now carried a pause before each sentence — calculated, almost noble. Her hands, once used only to fight, now gestured in discussion like a woman learning how to cut with words.
Shunsui watched from his veranda as she confidently engaged with three nobles from minor houses in the garden, their conversation no longer a one-sided condescension but a back-and-forth volley.
"Not bad," he muttered. "The Shiba firecracker now carries a fuse… and a match."
Scene Cut: Squad 10 Barracks – Private Chamber
Captain Mohit sat at his desk, the paper in front of him already halfway filled with his neat, formal calligraphy. He had waited weeks for the right moment to send this letter. Now, with Kukaku showing signs of competence, the Shiba clan's internal tension growing ripe for change, and political winds shifting, the time had come.
He dipped the ink brush again. This letter would not simply be a message. It would be an opening move in a silent war.
[Letter Begins]
To: Captain Jūshirō Ukitake, Squad 13
From: Captain Mohit, Squad 10
Respected Taichō,
It has been some time since we last conversed, and though perhaps not proper to address a subject of this weight through parchment, the urgency leaves little room for formality.
You are no doubt aware of the current condition of Squad 10 — our forced assignment to noble patrol duties has continued for several years now. It is an open secret that this role, while disguised as "prestigious protection," is nothing short of political leash work enforced by the central nobility after the unfortunate assassination that disrupted their illusion of security.
I write not to complain, but to initiate movement.
You are also aware of my lieutenant, Isshin Shiba — a man of reckless spirit, yes, but one of unwavering loyalty and dormant potential. The Shiba clan has fallen from grace, pushed aside and made ornamental. But now, internal tremors stir. The seat of the clan head may soon be challenged, and my lieutenant will be placing his name forward.
If Isshin secures the clan leadership, and if the Shiba name is once again raised to where it belongs among the Great Houses, I request the support of your clan at the Joint Noble Assembly.
This is not a mere favor. It is a pact I propose.
In exchange, I pledge — on Isshin's behalf, and with my own strategic influence — that the Shiba clan will align itself with your clan's mission: the development and upliftment of Soul Society's outer districts, the restoration of dignity in the neglected areas you have long fought for.
You seek balance, Captain Ukitake. I seek justice — for Squad 10, for the Shiba, and for the quiet captains who have long bled for nobles who spit behind their sleeves.
Together, we may yet rewrite the hierarchy.
With respectful regards,
Captain Mohit
Squad 10, Gotei 13
Scene Cut: Squad 10 — Nightfall
Mohit finished sealing the scroll. He handed it silently to a Hell Butterfly. Its wings shimmered briefly before vanishing into the night sky.
Behind him, his vice-captain stood near the doorway.
"So it's done?" Isshin asked, his voice quieter than usual.
"Yes. Now we wait for Ukitake's reply. But understand, if he agrees to support you… there is no turning back. You will become a figurehead. You will walk into every meeting with their eyes on your back, waiting for you to fail."
Isshin nodded.
"Let them watch."
Mohit allowed a rare smirk to pass his face.
"Good. Because I'm going to make sure they blink first."
The room was quiet. A soft breeze from the open paper screen rustled the edge of the scroll that lay on Ukitake's desk. He had read it twice, and now he read it a third time, not because he didn't understand it, but because of what it meant. A letter from Mohit. A captain whose name rarely crossed political chambers unless it was followed by silence.
Ukitake folded the letter carefully. His expression did not change, but the air around him did—he felt it.
"Kiyone," he called softly.
The door opened quickly. "Yes, Captain!"
**"Summon Kaien. And tell the archives attendant to bring me the recent voting pattern from the noble assembly."
"Right away, sir."
As the door shut again, Ukitake looked out into the garden. Mohit wasn't simply asking for a favor. This was a calculated move. Aligning Squad 13 with the Shiba clan meant entering a war of influence. A war they had tried to avoid. But perhaps it was time to stop avoiding it.
"You always did play the long game, Mohit…" he whispered.
Scene: Southern Pavilion, Less Noble Assembly Meeting Hall
The Southern Pavilion was often overlooked by the central nobility, but it had its own kind of power. Here, minor noble houses gathered to maintain a semblance of relevance, each with its own desperation to rise or avoid total obscurity.
Kukaku Shiba walked into the hall with a calm exterior. Inside, she boiled. Not from fear, but from the weight of expectations. Her hair was tied properly for once. She wore the formal uniform tailored under Shunsui's instruction, and though her right arm twitched with the desire to punch someone, she steadied it.
Shunsui followed behind, not as a chaperone, but as a silent shield.
"The student represents her clan," the usher announced. "Kukaku Shiba, appearing as representative of the Shiba Clan."
Whispers immediately filled the chamber. Many had heard of her—firecracker, tomboy, the girl who turned her house into a cannon site.
Kukaku stood at the center of the oval platform. The elders sat above her, judging.
"Lady Kukaku," one elder from House Sumikawa said, "your clan has not sent a representative to this meeting in over 50 years. Why now?"
Kukaku took a breath. Shunsui's words echoed in her mind: Speak as if you belong here, not as if you're seeking permission.
"Because for 50 years, we watched others decide for us. That ends today. My clan may have lost position, but we have not lost purpose."
A few of the nobles shifted.
"Purpose? And what purpose would a Shiba serve now?" sneered another.
"One that understands that noble titles mean little when the outer districts burn and rot while you debate flower gardens. My brother will run for head of the clan. When he does, we will not beg for a seat—we will claim it. And if any here are wise, you'll align early."
Murmurs. Some scandalized. Some impressed.
She continued.
"Captain Ukitake has responded to Captain Mohit. He does not reject our offer. The support of House Ukitake is being considered. That alone should tell you this is not empty bluster. If you seek stability, support the Shiba. If you seek pride alone, prepare to be forgotten."
There was silence.
Then an elder from the minor House Ienaga spoke.
"We will speak privately after this session."
Kukaku bowed. Shunsui smirked in the shadows. He didn't need to speak.
She passed.
And the game had just begun.
Scene Cut: Later, Squad 10 Barracks
The letter from Ukitake finally arrived.
**"To Captain Mohit,
Your letter was received with great consideration. I understand your concerns, and though my health limits my political maneuvering, my name still holds weight in certain corners. If Isshin Shiba officially declares his candidacy, I will lend support publicly. But I ask for one thing in return: that the Shiba support our reconstruction initiative in the lower 70s district.
We both know that a better Soul Society is not built from marble, but from will.
Let us begin.
Ukitake Jushiro, Captain of Squad 13**
Mohit folded the letter, turned to Isshin, and said:
"You have one job now, lieutenant. Win. And when you do, we burn their leash. Squad 10 will no longer guard nobles. We will reshape them."
The air in the main hall of the Shiba estate was dense with tension, heavy with the stench of politics and veiled contempt. It had been half a year since Kukaku Shiba was taken under the wing of Captain Shunsui Kyoraku, molded not only into a political speaker but a refined representative of her clan. And now, the moment Mohit and Shunsui had planned for had finally arrived: Isshin Shiba would declare his candidacy for the head of the Shiba Clan.
The great hall was filled with nobles of all stature within the clan. Ancient scrolls depicting Shiba glory hung proudly on the walls, almost mocking the sorry state the clan had fallen into. As Isshin stepped forward and formally declared his intent, a wave of stifled laughter rippled across the room.
"This is preposterous," one elderly noble from the main branch snorted, sipping sake with disdain. "The brat from the minor branch now dreams of ruling us?"
Another voice joined in, louder and crueler. "Shiba has truly fallen if this clown in a lieutenant robe believes he's worthy."
Isshin remained calm, just as Mohit had instructed. Behind his calm demeanor, a storm brewed in his blood. But then something unexpected happened—
Two hands raised.
Silence.
Two prominent nobles—Kougen Shiba, commander of the Eastern District forces, and Sayuri Shiba, head of the Shiba Medical Wing—had raised their hands in open support.
A whisper rushed through the crowd.
"Is this… is this real?"
Isshin looked up, hiding his shock. These two were notoriously conservative. Why would they—
Then, from the back of the room, Shunsui stepped out quietly, hat low, sake in hand.
FLASHBACK – TWO WEEKS PRIOR
Shunsui sat at a secluded teahouse near the Kōka district, across from Kougen and Sayuri.
"Now, now, I understand tradition binds us," Shunsui said, casually sipping. "But surely even you two see how far Shiba has fallen under stagnant leadership."
Kougen scoffed. "And you suggest Isshin is the remedy? He is brash, reckless, and of no significant bloodline."
Shunsui leaned forward, voice low and smooth like silk. "He is brash, yes. But he is also loyal. He is a captain. And above all… he listens."
Sayuri's eyes narrowed. "What's in it for us?"
"Ah. There it is," Shunsui chuckled. "Land grants for your clinics in the 54th district. And for you, Kougen—free reinforcement authority on Shiba outposts."
They paused.
"This will require more than just promises."
"Then here—" Shunsui slid a sealed letter across the table. "Signatures from Captain Ukitake and Shiba's allied lesser nobles. The wind's already blowing. Either you ride it, or it buries you."
BACK TO PRESENT
As more votes were cast, one by one, hands rose. Nobles who had once sneered now gave nervous glances and raised their arms. Some did so for favor, others out of fear. It was now evident—Shunsui had turned the tide before the storm ever began.
Finally, Kukaku stepped forward. Dressed in modified noble attire that still showed her unruly style, she stood confidently.
"My father, may his soul rest, was second-in-command of this clan. And I, Kukaku Shiba, his daughter, place my full support behind Isshin. Not just as a brother, but as the future our clan needs."
A quiet, authoritative nod. No more yelling. No more rebellion. She had become a political weapon.
As the votes concluded, Isshin stood victorious.
He took the center stage, bowing once to the elders and once to his captain Mohit, who watched from the shadows, unreadable.
Isshin's voice echoed.
"I thank you. For your trust. For your votes. But most of all, for giving this clan a second chance. The Shiba name once carried fire in its soul. I vow, with Kukaku as my second, to reignite that fire. We will reestablish our district presence. We will reclaim our seat among the great. We will no longer be the dogs of nobility—we will be the lion that roars."
Applause, slow at first, then firm.
Kukaku nodded proudly, now officially the head of financial management. Her words would carry weight. Her coin would fund their rise.
And in the dark corner of the room, Shunsui met Mohit's eyes and gave the faintest smile.
The board was set. The Shiba clan had risen again. And Squad 10's freedom was now just a few political moves away.