The two girls fell completely silent.
Especially Rukia—her mind was a total blank. For a moment, the president's figure before her wavered, as if everything were no longer real.
Matsumoto Rangiku was the first to recover. She blinked and asked again, "What did you just say?"
Nobu lifted his sake cup and slowly smiled.
"I said I like her."
Boom—!
The moment she heard those two words again, it felt to Rukia like a star exploded inside her skull.
Even if she had now become the Kuchiki family's adopted daughter, she knew all too well what kind of person she really was. The name "Kuchiki" was just a glamorous but hollow veneer.
But the president... the president...
In Rukia's heart, he was like a divine figure—distant, untouchable.
She admired him. Respected him. He excelled in everything.
What had he just said?
Was he drunk?
He'd only had two drinks.
Rukia sat dazed, still half held by Matsumoto Rangiku's arm. Her mind couldn't comprehend what had just happened. She couldn't believe it.
Rangiku stared hard at Nobu, then suddenly burst into loud, hearty laughter. It was the kind of laugh that cleared the fog from her eyes and left them shining.
"Well, well! Didn't expect to witness such a clean confession tonight."
Nobu kept drinking at a relaxed pace, his face calm and composed, as if what he had just said was nothing important at all.
It was precisely this unhurried demeanor that made Rukia start to question if she'd imagined the whole thing.
Maybe Vice-Captain Matsumoto misheard too...?
Why is the president still so calm after saying something like that... Was he joking? Was he just teasing us?
Rukia's thoughts were a frantic tangle. Emotions surged and spiraled until she couldn't think straight. Her eyes remained wide, her expression dazed.
"And what about you?"
Rangiku turned to look at Rukia, asking the question calmly.
Me...?
What about me... My feelings for the president...
Rukia felt her mind spin. A sliver of clarity returned—and then her face went crimson.
Why was it her turn to answer now?
She hadn't prepared for this. She and the president were supposed to be nothing more than student council colleagues.
He's just a kind person—that's why he treats me well, right?
Yes, maybe sometimes their interactions were a little ambiguous. But Rukia had always believed the president was just being warm and easygoing. That he didn't mean anything more by it. And she had never dared to think beyond that.
She didn't dare look up. She was sure the president must be looking at her right now. That thought terrified her—because in lifting her head, she'd have to face the unbearable weight of those two simple words: "I like her."
She wanted to run. She had never wanted to escape a place so badly.
Just then, Nobu let out a soft laugh.
"Why are you asking her?"
Rangiku frowned slightly. "Of course I have to ask. It's the girl's turn to respond now."
But Nobu replied, "I didn't ask her to respond."
"...Eh?"
Rangiku froze. She wasn't sure what he meant anymore.
Wasn't that a confession just now?
Had she misunderstood? Had he said something different? Or had she overstepped by inserting herself into something that was between the two of them?
She furrowed her brows, thought for a moment, then asked seriously, "Don't you want to know if she accepts or rejects you?"
Nobu smiled faintly. "That's an odd way to put it, Miss Rangiku. You asked me a question—not her. And I wasn't speaking to her either. I simply answered your question."
His words sounded circular. Rangiku gave her temple a tap, suspecting it was the alcohol making him hard to follow.
"Hold on."
But Nobu went on. "What I said just now—it wasn't a request, or a plea, or any kind of demand. I just meant: I think Rukia is an outstanding person. She's a good girl. So I like her. That's all."
"..."
Rangiku sat motionless for a moment, then suddenly got to her feet—wobbling slightly.
"I'm drunk. I'm definitely drunk. I'm going now. You two can talk it out yourselves."
With that, she swayed off toward the entrance of the izakaya.
"Take care, Miss Rangiku," Nobu called out behind her.
After she left, silence fell between him and Rukia. A strange, quiet stillness.
Rukia watched the president across the table, calmly eating and drinking as if nothing had happened. Her own frenzied thoughts gradually settled in the presence of his unhurried movements.
Tentatively, she raised her head. She saw him refilling his cup.
She bit her lip and asked, "President, how much have you had to drink?"
"Worried I'll get drunk?" he replied with a slight smile.
Rukia didn't understand how he could still be smiling so casually. That ease felt sharp, like it stung—like she had something to feel guilty for.
She avoided his eyes and murmured in a very low voice, "The things you said earlier... What did you really mean?"
"Was I not clear enough?"
"..."
He had been clear. Rukia understood.
He wasn't asking her for anything. He wasn't hoping for something in return. He was simply expressing a feeling—pure and honest.
But can feelings really be that pure? she wondered.
Was she even worth that kind of affection from him?
Or maybe... maybe he simply admired her, and had just used the word like too casually.
Vice-Captain Matsumoto clearly thought it meant that kind of like... If it didn't, shouldn't the president have clarified?
"Not eating?"
Nobu's voice snapped her from her thoughts.
Rukia said nothing. She had no appetite left at all. The atmosphere between them felt... off.
The earlier tension—something close to romantic ambiguity—had vanished the moment Rangiku left. Even the bashfulness was gone.
It was like... nothing had happened. Like the awkwardness was all in her head.
"I... I'm not hungry."
"Alright then." Nobu waved for the owner and settled the bill, then rose to his feet.
"Let's go."
"Ah? O-okay!"
They stepped out of the izakaya. As the noren curtain fell behind them, the cozy scent of warm wood was sealed away.
Suddenly, Rukia felt that familiar hand land gently on her head.
She flinched instinctively, tucking her chin.
I should pull away, she thought. I should keep some distance. She didn't want to mess things up. But she didn't know where the line was—and she didn't want to cross it.
But that was all in hindsight. In that moment, under the weight of his palm, she found herself reluctant to move.
The president's hand was lighter than usual. Gentler. Even his voice seemed... soft.
"Let's go."
The stone-paved road shimmered silver under the moonlight. Their footsteps echoed softly down the quiet street, stirring the slumbering starlight resting on rooftops.
Far ahead, faint lights flickered, glowing dimly like square-shaped jellyfish adrift in the night sea.
The wind passed through a stack of empty bottles, whispering a few hoarse notes before dissolving into moonlight spilling off the eaves.
Rukia looked up just as a stream of clouds drifted by. The scattered stars became like grains of silver sand, trickling through the gaps in a sieve and settling into the deep indigo sky.
Dazed, she thought the road beneath them shimmered faintly, like the glimmer of receding tide left behind on a moonlit shore.
Dazed, she saw her shadow stretch out on the pavement, long and thin, caught and tangled by the night breeze—like a thread, gently tying her to the brightest star in the sky.
---
T/N: Rukia is confused! She hurt herself with confusion!