Dazed, Hinamori returned to the living room. The others were still chatting. No one noticed her strange expression—except Rukia.
"Are you okay? Did you throw up?" Rukia asked.
Hinamori shook her head, her gaze drifting toward Hitsugaya. She stared at him for a while.
His hair was a sharp, brilliant silver—easy to pick out in any crowd.
But the hair she'd found on the towel earlier… it was duller. A softer silver-gray.
Only one person she knew had hair like that: Kotetsu Isane, vice-captain of Squad 4.
Shin had graduated two years ago. In that time, Hinamori had only seen him a handful of times. Her feelings for him hadn't faded—not one bit—but what about him?
He worked alongside Kotetsu daily… and she was gentle, beautiful…
The thought rooted itself in her mind, refusing to leave. Her attention drifted away from the conversation.
"Hinamo—Momo?"
"Huh?"
She snapped back, realizing everyone was looking at her.
"What's wrong?"
"You're definitely drunk," Hisagi chuckled.
"…"
She bit her lip and glanced at Shin. Her hand clenched into a fist.
"It's getting late," Hitsugaya said. "We should head out."
He'd noticed her state and figured she needed rest.
One by one, the group began gathering their things.
"Really? You eat, drink, and just leave? No one's gonna help clean?" Shin called out, exasperated.
"Guests don't do chores," Hisagi replied smugly. "Ignore him, guys."
Everyone laughed as they filed out the door.
"Bye, Prez!"
"See you, Shin!"
Shin tried to grab Seirō to help tidy up, but she escaped faster than anyone.
Soon the house fell quiet again.
But Hinamori stayed. Still on the couch.
Noticing this, Shin poured her a glass of water and offered it gently. "Feeling sick?"
"…I'm fine," she muttered, accepting the cup.
"Just rest there for now."
Shin began cleaning. He headed to the bathroom, inspecting it carefully. When he picked up the towel from the wall, he sighed.
There weren't any of Isane's personal belongings in the house—but that didn't mean she hadn't left traces.
Guess I've been found out.
Hinamori's affection meter hadn't changed. She probably hadn't confirmed anything yet.
But it was only a matter of time.
Outside, after parting ways with the others, Rukia looked back toward Shin's house.
Why hasn't Momo come out yet…?
She hesitated, turned a corner… then doubled back.
When she re-entered the house, she saw Hinamori alone on the couch. From the kitchen, the sound of dishes clinking carried faintly.
"You came back?" Hinamori looked over, her voice shifting.
Rukia sat beside her. "I was worried."
Hinamori smiled, but it was bitter. "Worried I'd do something to the Prez, right?"
Rukia didn't reply.
Hinamori sighed. "People… can't really be trusted, huh?"
From the kitchen: "Is that you, Rukia?"
"Yeah, Prez, it's me."
Rukia turned back to Hinamori. "You don't usually act like this when you're drunk."
"…"
Then Rukia raised an eyebrow. "Wait… did you confess to him?"
That didn't feel right either—whether Shin accepted or not, Hinamori shouldn't be this rattled.
Hinamori whispered—just for Rukia to hear:
"Between you and me… who do you think the Prez will end up with?"
Rukia blinked, stunned by the directness.
Hinamori continued, voice soft and strained:
"I've been thinking… about everything. About him. No matter what you or I do, Shin knows how we feel. So why hasn't he said anything?"
"…What are you trying to say?"
"If he likes you… or me… then why won't he admit it? We've made it so clear…"
Rukia frowned. She remembered asking Shin something similar during the fireworks festival. His answer then hadn't been clear either. But she'd trusted him. Always had.
Trust was the foundation. Not suspicion.
Unlike Hinamori's words now.
Hinamori stared at her.
"Rukia… you and the Prez…"
She trailed off, clutching the cup in both hands.
"What do you want to ask?" Rukia prompted.
"…I don't know." Hinamori rubbed her forehead. "I think I really did drink too much."
What she'd wanted to ask—was whether Rukia and Shin had ever… gotten close.
She always thought Shin liked her. They'd even kissed once.
But during the fireworks festival… he held her hand. And then held Rukia's hand too.
If he liked her, why hold Rukia's hand?
Didn't he know what that meant?
But if she asked out loud, and got an answer she didn't want…
Maybe that hair wasn't what she feared. Maybe Vice-Captain Kotetsu just visited… and left a stray hair. That's all.
Rukia saw Hinamori's rare defeated look and felt a strange ache in her chest.
"Why torture yourself with guesses?" she said. "If you want answers—ask."
"…"
Hinamori didn't reply. She just stared into her cup.
Rukia reached out, gently took her hand.
"I'll ask."
"What?" Hinamori panicked. "Ask what?"
"Exactly what we both want to know," Rukia said calmly. "You've always been confident when it comes to this. So have I. But confidence doesn't guarantee results. Why not settle it here and now?"
The air was thick with tension. The kitchen water shut off. Footsteps approached.
"I… don't want that," Hinamori whispered.
"Why?" Rukia pressed. "What are you afraid of?"
"I…"
"You're afraid he'll choose me? Or afraid he'll choose you and we won't be friends anymore?" Rukia's voice was steady. "This whole 'fair competition' thing between us is already absurd. Don't you think Shin's figured us out by now? And what if he thinks we're just fighting over him like some prize?"
Hinamori's head spun. Her thoughts tangled and pulled her under. She hadn't meant for any of this to happen. She'd only ever wanted to like someone… sincerely.
Why had it turned into this?
The kitchen went silent.
Shin stepped out, wiping his hands, smiling.
"You two okay?" he asked gently.
That warmth—that voice—
Hinamori's heart clenched tight, like something had wrapped around it and refused to let go.