[3rd Person POV]
The sun hung low over Seireitei, casting long shadows across the pristine walkways of Squad 8's barracks. Cherry blossoms drifted lazily through the air, their petals catching the golden light like fleeting embers. Akio Kurozume walked with purpose, his academy robes slightly rumpled from a morning of light training, his Asauchi secured at his side. The faint hum of his Reiryoku simmered beneath his skin, a constant reminder of the shadows that coiled within him—dark, ethereal, and always hungry for more.
As he approached the Squad 8 gates, the guards nodded respectfully—word of his tournament victory and Yamamoto's vow had spread like wildfire. "Kurozume-san," one said, bowing slightly. "Captain Kyōraku is expecting you in the main hall."
Akio returned the nod with a faint smile, his sharp blue eyes scanning the barracks. Squad 8 was a place of refined elegance, with manicured gardens and open pavilions where Shinigami lounged with sake cups and poetry scrolls. It suited Shunsui's vibe perfectly—lazy afternoons, strategic brilliance hidden behind a veil of nonchalance. But as Akio stepped inside, he felt a subtle mismatch, like a shadow trying to blend into sunlight.
The main hall was spacious, sunlight filtering through paper screens, illuminating Shunsui lounging on a cushioned mat. His pink kimono draped casually over his shoulders, straw hat tilted back, and his ever-present sake gourd resting beside him. Across from him sat Nanao Ise, his vice-captain, her glasses perched on her nose as she reviewed a stack of reports with her usual stern efficiency.
"Ah, the star of the hour arrives," Shunsui drawled, his voice warm and teasing. He sat up a bit straighter, gesturing to a cushion opposite him. "Sit, kid. Nanao, pour our guest some tea. Or sake, if he's feeling bold."
Nanao shot her captain a disapproving glance but complied, sliding a cup of steaming tea toward Akio. "Captain, this is official business. No alcohol during discussions."
Akio took the seat, bowing his head respectfully. "Uncle Shunsui," he said with a playful grin, using the nickname he'd adopted after the tournament. It was a cheeky jab, born from their mentor-student bond. Shunsui had trained him in Hakuda, teaching him the Ryūken style Their sessions had been equal parts grueling and insightful—Shunsui's laid-back demeanor hiding a depth of wisdom that Akio had come to respect deeply. Byakuya's Hohō training had been cold and precise, but Shunsui's felt like a conversation, a game where Akio's ambition was poked and prodded until it sharpened.
Over the past year, their relationship had evolved. Shunsui saw in Akio a mirror of his younger self—bold, strategic, with a hunger that could either forge legends or burn everything down. Akio, in turn, viewed Shunsui as a guiding hand, someone who understood the chessboard of Seireitei without the rigid formality of nobles like Byakuya. They'd shared laughs over sake (non-alcoholic for Akio, much to his mock protests), stories of battles past, and even warnings about the dangers of rising too fast.
Now, as Akio sipped his tea, he sensed the weight behind Shunsui's casual gaze. This wasn't just a social call.
"So," Shunsui began, leaning forward with a conspiratorial wink, "Since you have come hear I will assume you have made your descision." He chuckled, but his eyes were serious. "So, let's cut to the chase and let me, ask you in proper manner. You're a sixth-year now, and I'm offering you an internship here in Squad 8. Start as a seated officer-in-training, learn the ins and outs—strategy, reconnaissance, even a bit of my personal flair. Once you graduate you will be promoted directly to a seated officer. What do you say?"
Nanao nodded approvingly from the side. "It's a rare opportunity, Kurozume. Squad 8 values intellect and adaptability—qualities you've demonstrated amply."
Akio set his cup down, his expression thoughtful. He'd anticipated this offer; Shunsui had hinted at it during their last training session, a casual "You'd fit right in here, kid" tossed over a shared meal. But Akio had already made up his mind. The bond they shared was real—mentor and protégé, with a dash of familial teasing—but joining Squad 8 felt like clipping his wings before he could fully soar.
He met Shunsui's gaze steadily, his voice calm and reasoned. "Uncle Shunsui, I'm honored. Truly. You've been more than a teacher to me—you've been a guide, showing me how to navigate this world without losing myself. The Ryūken techniques you taught me, the way you pushed me to think beyond brute force… I wouldn't be where I am without that. And Squad 8? It's a perfect fit for someone like me—strategic, balanced, with room for a little poetry amid the chaos."
Shunsui raised an eyebrow, sensing the "but" coming. Nanao's pen paused on her report.
"But," Akio continued, his tone firm yet respectful, "I have to decline."
The room fell silent for a moment. Shunsui's lazy smile didn't fade, but his eyes sharpened, curiosity piqued. "Oh? Care to elaborate, kid? Not many turn down a captain's personal invite."
Akio leaned back slightly, choosing his words carefully. He knew Shunsui valued honesty, so he'd give it—wrapped in logic that respected their bond. "First off, it's about growth. I've trained under you for Hakuda and Hohō—learned to blend power with strategy. But if I intern here, I'd be too comfortable. Squad 8's style aligns with yours, and while that's appealing, it might limit me. I need exposure to different philosophies, different squads, to forge my own path. Ryūgō-sensei— the old Kenpachi—drilled into me that true strength comes from breaking and rebuilding in unfamiliar fires. If I stay in your shadow, even as an intern, I risk becoming a reflection of you instead of something more."
Shunsui nodded slowly, taking a sip from his gourd. "Fair point. You've always been ambitious. What else?"
Akio's eyes flickered with a hint of his inner shadows," The second reason is myself. Squad 8 is about balance and subtlety, but my power thrives on raw confrontation, on pushing limits until they break. I need a place where I can explore that without constraints. Maybe Squad 11 for the combat intensity can be a good fit for me but I have decided against it, as fighting and fighting is not my type. Interning here might stifle that exploration. I owe it to myself—and to what you've taught me—to chase the edges of my potential, even if it means wandering a bit longer."
Shunsui set his gourd down, his expression a mix of pride and mild exasperation. "You've thought this through, haven't you? Damn fox of a kid." He laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. Their bond shone through in moments like this—Shunsui wasn't offended; if anything, he seemed impressed by Akio's foresight. "I get it. You're not wrong. Comfort can be a cage, and you've got too much fire to clip your wings early. But remember, doors of this squas are always open for you. If you change your mind…"
Akio stood, bowing deeply. "I won't forget. And thank you—for the offer, for the training, for everything. You're more than a mentor; you're family in this crazy world."
Shunsui waved him off with a grin. "Go on, then. Cause more chaos. Just don't get yourself killed before I can buy you a real drink."
As Akio left the hall, the cherry blossoms swirling around him, he felt a pang of regret mixed with resolve. Turning down Shunsui wasn't easy—the man had been a anchor in his turbulent rise—but Akio's ambitions demanded freedom. 'One day, Uncle, our paths might align again. But for now, I walk alone.'
Outside, the sun dipped lower, painting Seireitei in hues of crimson. Akio's shadow stretched long behind him, a silent companion whispering of battles yet to come.
At 1st Squad's barracks.
"Have you decided to join the 1st squad, kid?" Yamamoto asked.
"I am sorry Captain Commander but I will have to humbly reject that offer."