Bleach: Soi-Fon's Challenge Begins with Ultra Instinct

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The next morning arrived beneath a pale sky, and within the wide stone-paved square under the Second Division's jurisdiction, the assembled formation stood tightly packed, the entire squad gathered in full. From rookies to seated officers, every member held position with practiced precision, their postures straight and unmoving beneath the weight of expectation.

Though their bodies stood rigid, faint traces of tension crept into their eyes and expressions—understandable, for today they were to receive a new captain, and for many, uncertainty came hand in hand with change. Among those unfamiliar with his name or reputation, apprehension lingered unspoken, but for the senior officers—those who had accompanied him during the brutal Menos Grande suppression mission—no such unease existed, and instead, relaxed conversation floated between them with the ease of those who already knew where their confidence should lie.

At the head of the formation, Omaeda Marechiyo walked with a pronounced spring in his step, his chest puffed and his every motion exaggerated, as though carrying the weight of pride on his back rather than his usual laziness. For years, the Second Division—assigned to intelligence, assassination, and execution—had carried the burden of an image steeped in stealth and secrecy, never celebrated for brute strength and often ridiculed by others for their silence and invisibility, their talents dismissed as dishonorable or cowardly by the louder, more aggressive Divisions.

While squads such as the First or Eleventh defined themselves through sheer battlefield dominance, Squad Two had quietly accepted the insult of being labeled the "Ninja Division," a moniker delivered not with admiration but with thinly veiled disdain, as though their value was somehow lessened by the shadows they worked within. To be called silent, invisible, or incapable in a direct fight had long been a stain on the pride of their ranks, an insult that remained buried but never forgotten.

However, with the events of yesterday still echoing across the barracks, everything had shifted.

Su Li—formerly vice-captain of the very same division—had done the unthinkable by defeating Zaraki Kenpachi, the Eleventh Division's living embodiment of raw destruction and war, in a direct and public battle that left no room for interpretation or denial. The man whose name had long been synonymous with chaos and indomitable force had been overwhelmed not by strategy or deception, but by Su Li's overwhelming power delivered in full view of all who bore witness.

In a single moment, perception had fractured.

The old slander had died at last, and in its place bloomed vindication so fierce it lit the eyes of every Second Division member with a fire they had rarely been allowed to feel. Their squad—so long written off—had now become the axis of conversation throughout the Gotei 13, and for once, the noise was praise.

Omaeda, unable to contain himself, moved from one person to another with the tenacity of a street vendor with divine goods, grabbing arms, clapping shoulders, and rattling off half-true accounts of the duel that played more like epic tales than reports. Each exaggeration drew in crowds, and each retelling grew more elaborate than the last.

Not far from him, a small group stood with pride etched deep into their features—Su Li's former classmates, who had witnessed his evolution from unknown student to vice-captain, then to the one who bested both Sui-Feng and Zaraki Kenpachi, now preparing to ascend to the rank of captain. Their admiration wasn't rooted in distant awe but in shared pasts and hallways, in memories of sitting beside him or simply watching him train. To them, his legend was not distant—it was personal, and each new glory added fuel to the private pride they now clung to. Introductions had changed overnight; no one said, "I'm xxx," anymore. They said, "I'm Su Li's classmate," even if the closest they'd ever been to him was standing on the same rooftop.

Without warning, the air tensed as a new presence entered the square, graceful yet sharp, commanding attention by mere existence.

Sui-Feng, now garbed in a sleek black uniform with the vice-captain's insignia gleaming against her right arm, stepped forward, her footsteps silent yet final. At her approach, every member of the squad snapped into sharper posture, instincts drilled over years responding before thought could catch up.

"Squad, attention."

Omaeda's shout rang out with practiced authority, and in a synchronized wave, the formation locked into place, bodies aligned with perfect military precision. Sui-Feng, without breaking stride or acknowledging the display, ascended the central platform and took her place with the detached elegance of someone accustomed to command, though her narrowed eyes and slow blinking betrayed a weariness that gave her the air of someone running on discipline alone rather than rest.

She checked the time and, finding a few minutes still remaining before the official hour, closed her eyes without a word and allowed herself to nap.

No one moved.

Though her title had shifted, the weight of her reputation remained unchanged. She had shaped Squad Two with ruthless strictness, carved discipline into every motion, and enforced a standard that left no room for hesitation or laziness. Her silence held more command than most shouted orders, and even now, her mere presence kept them frozen in place, their muscles locked, their focus absolute.

As the final minute ticked past, a lone figure emerged at the far end of the square, the rising sun casting gold across his silhouette as he approached with deliberate calm.

Su Li walked with neither hesitation nor arrogance, his expression as gentle as the spring breeze, yet the subtle ripple that moved through the crowd at his appearance betrayed how thoroughly his presence shook them. Though he had never pursued adoration, the combination of overwhelming power, quiet demeanor, and clean ascension through the ranks had turned him into something larger than life.

Several squad members, particularly among the younger women, flushed with barely concealed fluster, their hearts quickening without consent. Su Li, wholly focused on the path ahead, remained unaware of the effect he had begun to generate simply by existing.

From her seat, Sui-Feng opened one eye and scanned the subtle reactions rippling across the ranks, her brow twitching with disapproval as she muttered beneath her breath.

"You should've arrived early. This isn't a training match—it's your inauguration."

With the same unchanging expression, Su Li responded with quiet amusement, "I prefer to be exactly on time."

"Hypocrite…" she hissed as she turned to Omaeda and gestured for the ceremony to begin.

Omaeda, clearly taking the moment with rare gravity, stepped forward holding the white haori with both hands as though cradling something sacred. His usual antics were gone, his face stretched tight into solemnity so unnatural that even Su Li had to suppress a smile at the transformation.

Without fanfare, Su Li accepted the garment and slipped it on, the act finalizing what the entire division already knew.

He was now Captain Su Li of Squad Two.

The haori settled across his shoulders with a quiet weight, and the crowd exhaled not with noise but with reverence, as though sensing the opening of a new era they could neither predict nor stop. What lay ahead was unknown, but everyone in that square believed—without doubt or question—that it would eclipse all that had come before.

It was time for the captain's inaugural address.

Tradition dictated a formal speech filled with niceties: commitment to duty, requests for cooperation, encouragement to work together.

Instead, Su Li stepped forward, met the eyes of his squad, and spoke with a tone so calm it silenced every stray thought.

"All of you, turn around."

Without the slightest confusion or pause, the entire division spun in perfect unison, backs to him, their stances still razor sharp.

"Scatter."

For a moment, silence reigned, followed by an audible blink across the ranks.

Then Omaeda shouted, more animated than ever, "Didn't you hear the captain?! Go on, get moving! He said scram!"

And in the next heartbeat, the square exploded with movement as every member vanished with disciplined speed, their bodies disappearing in streams of Shunpo, leaving behind only the empty stillness of the plaza.

Su Li, watching the dust settle, gave a small nod of approval.

He had no interest in formality, no desire to stand before a crowd and echo empty ceremony. This gathering had served its purpose.

He turned to the woman beside him, the one who had once been his commanding officer.

"Sui-Feng. Take me to the Covert Ops headquarters."

Her mouth opened, then closed again, the reflex to object battling the weight of reality. She wasn't his captain anymore. She was his subordinate. She was the vice-captain now.

Su Li raised an eyebrow, his smile still faint. "Didn't catch that."

Her jaw clenched, color rising to her cheeks as pride clashed with position.

"Follow me... Captain."

She forced the words out like metal scraping stone, then turned sharply and began walking, her pace stiff, her back straight as a blade. Su Li followed behind at his usual rhythm, unhurried and unaffected.

Omaeda, watching them fade into the distance, rubbed the corner of his eye with dramatic flair.

"Such a perfect pair of enemies…"

The moment lasted only seconds.

"OMAEDA! QUIT STARING AND MOVE YOUR FAT LEGS ALREADY!!"

Sui-Feng's voice tore through the air like thunder, yanking him from his daze.

With a yelp and flailing limbs, he bolted.

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