The Wolf Among Lions
Harry stood in the center of the Shin’ō Academy training grounds, breathing heavily, his wooden practice sword raised. Across from him, his opponent was sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain.
The instructor’s whistle blew.
“Winner—Harry Potter!”
A mix of awe and frustration rippled through the crowd of students watching. Harry ignored them, extending a hand to help his opponent up.
“Damn it, Potter,” the young man muttered, rubbing his bruised ribs. “How are you this strong?”
Harry forced a small smile. “Just lucky, I guess.”
But he knew it wasn’t luck.
For two years, Harry had trained relentlessly, mastering the arts of swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat, and kido. His ability to control reiatsu—spiritual energy—grew at an alarming rate. He pushed himself harder than any of his peers, not because he wanted recognition, but because deep down, he felt something wrong inside him.
That day in Rukongai, when he had killed the Hollow, something had awakened. Something dark.
And he needed to be strong enough to control it.
Graduation & The 11th Division
When the time came for academy graduates to be assigned to squads, Harry’s name was called early. Given his combat prowess, he had been offered a spot in several divisions. The 6th under Byakuya Kuchiki. The 2nd under Soi Fon. Even the 5th under Captain Aizen.
But Harry chose Squad 11.
The division of warriors. The division where brute strength ruled above all else.
The moment he stepped into the barracks, he knew he had made the right choice. The air buzzed with energy, and the warriors around him sized him up, testing his worth with every glance. He had read about Kenpachi Zaraki, the captain of Squad 11. A man who lived for battle, for whom strength was the only law.
And it didn’t take long for Harry to be tested.
“You’re the new guy, huh?”
A towering Shinigami with a scar across his cheek cracked his knuckles. “We don’t take kindly to weaklings in this division.”
Harry sighed, rolling his shoulders. “Guess I’d better prove myself then.”
The fight was brutal. No kido, no tricks—just pure combat. Fists and swords clashed, and though his opponent was strong, Harry was stronger. By the time the fight ended, Harry was the only one standing.
That night, Captain Zaraki himself approached him.
“You fight like a damn demon,” Zaraki said, grinning. “You might just fit in here.”
Harry smirked, his hand still wrapped around the hilt of his sword. “I plan to.”
The First Hollow Hunt
A month later, Harry stood on a rooftop in the World of the Living, watching as his squadmates clashed with a swarm of Hollows. It was his first real mission, and the rush of battle was exhilarating.
A massive Hollow lunged at him, its clawed hands swinging wildly. Harry vanished in a flash of shunpo, appearing behind it in an instant. With a single arc of his blade, he cut through the creature’s mask.
But as the Hollow disintegrated, something strange happened.
For a split second, Harry felt the pull again—that same dark energy from before. A whisper brushed against his mind, cold and hungry.
"Let me out."
His vision blurred, and his breath hitched. For a brief moment, he saw himself standing in a dark mirror, a twisted mask forming over his face—
Then it was gone.
He shook it off and turned back to his squad, but a sense of unease settled deep in his gut.
Whatever was inside him… it was getting stronger.
And soon, it would no longer be content to stay in the shadows.