"Blast with one punch? Rukia, that's not funny..." Abarai Renji frowned slightly, shooting her a warning glance.
He knew very well that Captain Kuchiki—noble paragon and the very embodiment of decorum—did not appreciate exaggeration or jokes, especially not during formal matters.
Rukia's heart tightened. She knew how outlandish her claim sounded, but she also knew that fabricating exploits in front of her brother was tantamount to digging her own grave. If Byakuya decided to investigate, the truth would come out instantly.
"Captain Kuchiki, it's true…" she stammered. "If you don't believe me, we can bring in Shiba Kuroba. He was the one who—"
She turned and gestured in the direction of the so-called hero.
Only to freeze.
Kuroba—who just moments ago had knocked out the black thief Canglan with a single blow—was now sprawled flat on his back, snoring.
From time to time, he mumbled nonsense in his sleep. "Wine... more wine... let's drink together…"
It was utterly unsightly.
Rukia's mouth twitched.
"B-Big brother, I'm not lying! He really did defeat the enemy. The black thief and his men fled right after. I'll capture one of them to prove it!"
She took a step forward, tempted to kick Kuroba awake. But then she hesitated. If he'd been drunk the entire time, there was a real chance he wouldn't even remember the fight. That would make things worse.
At that moment, loud laughter broke the tension.
"HAH! I heard someone knocked out a mutant Hollow with one punch? This I gotta see." A booming voice echoed from behind.
Zaraki Kenpachi, Captain of the 11th Division, strode forward with his usual manic grin, Ikkaku following behind with a matching glint of interest in his eyes.
The pressure in the air suddenly changed. Even Renji's expression turned stiff.
Rukia understood instantly—the spiritual pressure spike earlier had triggered the sensors of the 12th Division. That meant emergency alerts. That meant backup. And no division was quicker to show up to a fight than the 11th.
"Kuroba, is he dead?" a childlike voice asked.
Kusajishi Yachiru leaned curiously over Kuroba and poked his nose with a blade of grass. "Nope. He's still breathing. Just saying weird wine stuff…"
"Wine… good wine…" Kuroba murmured, batting the grass away and turning over, entirely oblivious to the gathering crowd.
Silence fell.
Everyone stared.
The battlefield atmosphere was obliterated by the absurdity of the scene.
Then, suddenly, Rukia's stomach dropped.
Drinking this much was against Soul Society regulations—especially for unranked shinigami. And Kuroba was technically still a noble candidate. To be caught publicly drunk in front of Kuchiki Byakuya… that was suicide. And if he lost his chance to enter the Shinō Academy because of this—
Kenpachi chuckled, breaking the silence again. "A noble who drinks like a pig and knocks out a Hollow with one punch? Now that's my kind of guy. Wish I had more like him in my squad."
Ikkaku smirked. "Reckless, but impressive. You don't see kids like this every day."
Zaraki tilted his head toward Byakuya. "He might be a drunk, but he handled that Hollow. I doubt you'd strip him of his academy slot just for that. Right, Captain Kuchiki?"
"Brother—Captain Zaraki has a point," Rukia added quickly. "And he... he saved me."
But her voice trailed off under Byakuya's cold gaze.
"As a shinigami, it is disgraceful to be saved by someone who hasn't even entered the Academy," Byakuya said, tone like ice. "I hope I won't hear such words from you again."
He paused briefly.
"His recommendation has already been approved. Captain Ukitake vouched for him. As such, his admission is not under my authority."
Byakuya turned away slightly, but his final words fell like a blade.
"However, for someone who bears the name Shiba yet fails to uphold noble conduct... I do not expect much. Captain Ukitake's faith may well be misplaced."
Rukia's eyes widened.
She hadn't realized so much had transpired while she was fighting. Her fists clenched.
Kuroba's reckless charge… his willingness to shield her without hesitation… it all reminded her of him—Shiba Kaien. That same fierce, selfless presence. That same stubborn will.
She inhaled sharply and stepped forward.
"Even if he's unconventional… even if he drinks too much… I believe in Captain Ukitake's judgment. And I believe in Shiba Kuroba. He will become a shinigami."
For a moment, silence again.
Even Renji raised his brows in surprise.
Rukia—defying her brother?
The most troubling part was that she had done all this for a boy she barely knew.
"Really? Then I'll wait and see for myself," Kuchiki Byakuya said calmly. His cold demeanor returned as he gave Kuroba one final glance before turning away, vanishing in a blur of flash step.
Watching his silhouette disappear, Rukia finally snapped out of her daze. That moment of defiance—it might have cost her everything. She had directly contradicted her brother's will, and for what?
"Heh, you've got guts, girl," Zaraki Kenpachi said with a hearty laugh. "Take good care of that brat. I might find some use for him down the line."
"Captain Zaraki, what use could you possibly have for someone like him?" Rukia asked warily. A terrible thought began forming in her mind, but she couldn't stop herself.
Madarame Ikkaku chuckled, a wild grin on his face. "Didn't you say he knocked out a demon with one punch? If the Captain's interested, it's obviously for a proper brawl. Fist to fist, man to man—ain't nothing better."
"Ikkaku's got it right," Zaraki said, grinning ferociously. "Renji, you and Rukia take this guy back for now. Word is he's got a nasty habit of drinking himself senseless. Toss him in the confinement barracks till he sobers up—don't want him causing trouble in the Seireitei."
"As for those demons that escaped... we'll take care of them," he added, his spiritual pressure subtly flaring with excitement. "Since we're back in Zaraki District, might as well check in on the old guard—see who's still got some fight in 'em."
Rukia stood still, stunned, as Kenpachi, Ikkaku, and the others turned and disappeared down the desolate street.
She glanced at Kuroba, still snoring away on the ground, muttering nonsense in his sleep. No hint of nobility, no poise—just the drunken mumblings of a fool.
Should she tell him?
That before even stepping foot in the Shin'ō Spiritual Academy, he'd already drawn the attention of two of the most battle-hungry captains in the Gotei 13?
For anyone else, this would be a waking nightmare.
She sighed. Her earlier defiance of Byakuya's judgment—it now felt reckless. Impulsive.
As a graduate of the Shin'ō Academy, Rukia understood better than most: becoming a Shinigami wasn't just about brute strength. It required discipline, mastery of Kidō, flash step, and a deep connection with one's Zanpakutō.
Could someone like Kuroba—an undisciplined, alcoholic brawler—really succeed?
Her confidence wavered. Like a balloon losing air, she suddenly felt deflated, burdened by doubts.