In the Seireitei's First Division barracks—back there once again.
On the way, Shuuichi had to admire Genryūsai's recovery. With just a simple dose of Kaidō (Healing Way) from him, the left ankle Genryūsai had scorched with his own flames was already walking fine.
Kinda inhuman.
Shuuichi practically drooled over talent like that.
Right after, Genryūsai lifted the danger cordon he'd thrown around Shuuichi. At least from what he'd just seen, Shuuichi wasn't like Maki Kurando—he could still keep that power under control.
If the Kabuma clan's concept could truly be realized, perhaps it wasn't a bad thing after all.
But once Shuuichi left, Genryūsai sat alone in the captain's room for a long time, then sighed and sent a Jigokuchō flying.
Elsewhere—by the time Shuuichi stepped out of First Division, night had fallen. He'd wanted to report in at Fourth Division and see if that gentle onee-san of a taichō had missed him, but he sighed and turned for home instead.
Tonight, for Rangiku, should've been just another ordinary night. After work she, as usual, stopped at her favorite izakaya in West Rukongai District 1 for a few flasks of good sake, then went home.
Home was still the place Shuuichi had bought in West Rukongai District 2.
Ever since Shuuichi was confirmed missing, the house had basically defaulted to Rangiku's.
Everyone knew that ever since Shuuichi had rescued Rangiku from Rukongai, they'd lived together. He'd never publicly defined what they were, but everyone understood.
"Shuuichi-sama, you didn't die in Hueco Mundo like they said, right? A Soul Reaper as remarkable as you—how could you die in a place like that? I don't believe it…"
Drinking alone again, Rangiku sat across from the spot upstairs where Shuuichi had so often sat, drunk and rambling.
She'd always believed that day—when Shuuichi gathered her, Gin, Kisaragi Shūsuke and the others and said "the Seireitei's so big, I want to see it"—it was just an excuse.
He must've known he might not come back, and didn't want them worrying or grieving.
But—
"You idiot… don't you realize that hurts worse!"
"I still haven't repaid the life you saved."
"You promised you'd always drink with me! Liar!"
Tipsy Rangiku muttered nonsense, eyes unfocused.
Suddenly, she felt a familiar presence across from her.
"Shuuichi-sama? Heh… I drank too much again."
She waved her left hand to sweep the mirage away.
It wasn't the first time she'd seen him like this. After who knew how many disappointments, she'd accepted reality: her Shuuichi-sama was not coming back.
This time felt different. Her left hand hit something solid.
"What…?"
The shock snapped her from the drunken haze.
Her heartbeat surged.
"Sorry, Rangiku. I didn't expect my disappearance to trouble you this much."
The phantom opposite—no, the longed-for man—spoke.
The same voice. The same tone.
Still that gentle, dizzying warmth.
"Shuuichi-sama…"
Rangiku braced herself with her other hand; two proud peaks tipped helplessly forward.
She still could barely believe it. She'd only ever seen this scene in dreams.
"Mm."
Shuuichi took her left hand and answered softly.
That single sound opened a valve in Rangiku's heart.
"Shuuichi-sama!"
A soft, warm weight fell into his chest; the great softness there pressed the breath from him.
"I knew you'd be fine! I knew it!"
For the first time before Shuuichi, the ever-strong Rangiku cried.
It was also the first time he truly felt the burning strength of her feeling for him.
He let her cry in his arms, let her speak—about these years, every little thing.
Slowly, he closed his arms until he held her completely.
Perhaps feeling that familiar safety, Rangiku—still scented with sake—drifted to sleep in his embrace.
Even asleep, she clutched him tight, as if terrified it was a dream and he'd vanish when she woke.
"But I… I'm really sorry."
Feeling the even breath of the girl in his arms, Shuuichi looked down at her with a complicated face and whispered.
He understood her feelings.
Love—maybe. Gratitude—certainly. Family—perhaps a bit of that too.
How much of each? He couldn't say. Only Rangiku knew.
But he knew he couldn't answer her heart right now.
Like Gin, who knew what he had to do and kept dodging the bond between them—
They didn't know what they would become. Especially Shuuichi: by now he didn't know how much Soul Reaper blood stained his hands, and the story had already shifted too far.
Unknown enemies, unknown plot twists—unknown risks.
If it were just him, he feared nothing. But if Rangiku had to come along, he'd be bound at every step.
Hard to say it without guilt, but after he took the Soul King's fingernail fragment from her, Rangiku could no longer keep pace.
The path ahead for Shuuichi would be brutal and hard.
He didn't yet have the strength or the capital to pound his chest and promise to keep someone else safe.
Keeping some distance—letting Rangiku stay in the Seireitei—was, at the very least, a way to guarantee her safety for the next hundred years or so.
That was the best protection he could give.
So even though her tears shook him, in the end he only brushed a light kiss onto her forehead, then—as always—carried her to the bedroom, set her gently on the bed, and tucked her in.
After that, he returned to the sitting room and tidied what their reunion had strewn across the floor.
He worked until the moon sat high and a black cat alighted on the windowsill.
"So—Yoruichi-taichō's intel really is that quick, huh?"
The black cat surprised him, but habit hid any ripple on his face.
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