Bleach Captains Jacket Novels & Stories

Lucía said quietly. "Doesn't it?" Before she could answer, a soft, deliberate knock sounded against the doorframe, and we both snapped our heads around to find Tiago standing there. He had clearly just showered, his dark hair still damp and curling softly at the nape of his neck, dressed down in a plain grey t-shirt that clung to his chest in a way that should have been illegal and jeans that sat dangerously low on his hips. He looked less like the polished, untouchable club captain and more like a very dangerous domestic hazard.

The physical force yanked me backward, dragging me off balance until my blades cut a sharp groove into the ice. "You're with me." I turned my head sharply, my plastic visor nearly clashing against his. Orion Kael stood towering over me in his dark home-team jersey. The heavy captain's 'C' stitched onto his left chest felt like a burning brand in my peripheral vision. The rest of the team went dead silent. The locker-room chatter evaporated instantly as thirty veteran Alphas watched their captain claim an unknown rookie for the most violent drill of the morning. I kept my voice low enough so the coaching staff standing by the benches couldn't hear the venom. "I don't need your charity, Kael."

This is how it ends. The captain stands at the prow, his presence like a slash across the horizon. Tall and menacing, his coat whipping in the wind like a dark banner. A scar cuts across his face, bisecting it like the blade of an enemy. One eye is clouded, milky and unseeing. But the other? The other gleams with sharp intelligence and ruthless intent.

He moves with confidence, easy grace, scanning the crowd. When his blue eyes find mine, he grins and raises his stick slightly in acknowledgment. I wave back, forcing a smile. Then the Icefangs take the ice. And there he is. Knox! Number twenty-two. Captain. The C on his jersey is visible even from here. My breath catches. He looks... wrong. Thinner than I remember, even under all the gear. His movements are still fluid, still powerful, but something's off. Like he's moving through water instead of gliding across ice.

Gardax swerves the helm of the ship with such experience and grace that he leers over to the captain as he does. “On the course, I believe. LeBlach, a small sky town, one of the very many, many, we have come across I reckon.” His voice carries with the air that shifts throughout the steel fratire that serves as their mobile home. The captain walks over to the forward railing, just on the right side of the helm. Her forest eyes leer upon the new crewmates. First, she looks over at a pair of brunettes that swab the deck. They are brothers but one is about two feet taller than the other. Both of them wear dirt long sleeve white shirts and patched gray trousers. There are two more crew mates tha

“Captain on deck!” The man that enters is an all too familiar sight for every soldier in the room, his shoulder plates had distinct red stripes unlike the dull steel ones we had, while his chest plate had the image of the Caesar’s Crystal Leaf crown smelted the left breast of his armor, and finally clutched under his arms was his helmet, the Centurion’s Red Crest was attached to it while two distinct red arrows were painted in the side. A 5th generation soldier and one of the toughest veterans in the Bright Tigers, it was Captain Centurion Brachuss Gilderscrowns. His presence immediately calls everyone to stand in respect. “At ease men, we don’t have much time so let’s get straight to the pl

Brad’s POV I just stepped out of Coach Austin’s office, and like the rules implied, he’d already handed me the jersey of my newly signed club—the Skyblazers. I had the jersey tucked inside like it was some top-secret stuff, having my suit jacket deliberately pulled forward to cover it. I even had my shades on, though it was barely ten in the morning. It wasn’t about the sun. It was about not wanting to be read, not wanting people to catch whatever expression was written on my face.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” “Yeah,” I said. “Could be a bomb. Could be worse.” He grinned humorlessly. “You always know how to cheer me up.” I crouched down slowly, lifted the lid just enough to peek. Inside… a folded leather jacket. Blood-stained. Black with red stitching. The Cobra patch. And underneath it — a photo. Raven. Marcus. Jace. Standing together. Fresh. Not old. Not burned. And on the back, written in red ink:

She unfolded it by letting it drop whilst holding the top part of it and I saw that it was actually a red and silver embroidered one arm jacket. "Whah?" "Your clan leader ordered this specifically for you. A long time ago." Jhan, always full of mysteries. I collected the jacket and put it on. I liked it. Leya looked at me in surprise. "Okay Leya, I gotta go help our friends okay." She nodded. "Stay here and stay safe." I had almost cracked away when I heard the adjudicator shout, "wait!" I turned around to face her. Wondering what it might be this time.

he added, stepping around the bench to block my light. “I don’t scare easy,” I replied, standing up and fixing him with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. Blaze looked good in the worst way. His hair was still wet from the morning shower, curling slightly at the ends like it had no idea how to behave. His shirt was slung over his shoulder, forgotten, leaving his chest completely bare and unapologetic. And of course, his smug little smirk was already in place. “Didn’t peg you for a repeat offender,” he said. “I figured one run-in with the Captain would send you packing.”