Shino Academy.
Near dusk, only Kira and Hinamori remained in the quiet Student Council office.
"Where did you go this afternoon?" Kira asked, glancing up from his paperwork. "The teacher came looking for you—I told them you weren't feeling well and were resting in the dorms."
Hinamori smiled. "Thanks!"
Kira sighed. "If you've got something going on, let me know ahead of time. Asking me to cover last-minute could cause problems."
"Yeah yeah, I get it. Won't happen again." She waved it off, clearly unconcerned.
"And could you take your duties a little more seriously? You're a department head. The younger students look up to us—we're supposed to set an example."
"Geez, Kira, you nag worse than my grandmother," Hinamori muttered, visibly annoyed.
Kira rubbed his temples. They were too familiar with each other. Despite holding the title of Vice President, neither Hinamori nor Renji ever took him seriously.
Renji was at least mostly occupied with the Kendo Club and didn't hold any official Council position. But Hinamori had taken over his old post as head of Organization, and that meant Kira had to coordinate a lot of operations with her. While she used to be sharp and dependable, lately she'd been slacking—pawning off tasks on him or other Council members more and more.
"I'm serious, Hinamori—"
Just then, Kuchiki Rukia entered with Iwajū following behind, rattling off instructions.
Though small in stature, Rukia now carried a composed and commanding presence. Her time as Student Council President had given her a distinct air of authority.
"Class C of the Second Years is doing a practicum in the World of the Living next Tuesday. Professor Yukimura's assigned us to coordinate logistics," Rukia reported.
Kira scratched his chin. "Send Abarai. He's free."
Rukia nodded. "That works."
The Student Council had come a long way since its founding. It was no longer just a student club but had grown into a vital institution within the Academy. Faculty regularly delegated tasks to them. In a sense, the Academy now relied on the Student Council to function.
And Rukia took the role seriously. Her efforts—combined with the prestige of the Kuchiki name—made her highly respected among students.
Kira suddenly smiled. "You all haven't forgotten about this weekend, right?"
Hinamori blinked.
Rukia also looked over.
No one spoke.
Kira looked puzzled. "Wait, don't tell me you forgot. We're going to visit Captain Tachikawa's place to congratulate him on becoming the new 10th Division Captain. Iwajū, didn't you tell them?"
"I did, I'm pretty sure I did…" Iwajū muttered, scratching his head.
Rukia glanced at Hinamori. "I remember."
"I also contacted Hisagi, Kanisawa, and Aoga. We'll all go together—should be a fun reunion," Kira added cheerfully.
"Sounds good."
Just then, someone rushed up to the door. "Vice President Kira, Professor Yukimura needs you."
"Coming." Kira waved and left.
Classes were done for the day. Hinamori looked out the window, where students milled about in the fading light.
Rukia glanced at Iwajū. He got the message and left the room without needing to be told. The Student Council really shaped people; he'd grown perceptive and capable, and Rukia was grooming him to be her successor.
Only Rukia and Hinamori remained.
"Where did you skip off to this afternoon?" Rukia asked.
"I went to see the President."
Hinamori didn't bother to lie.
Rukia's expression didn't change. She'd suspected as much. Of all their friends, only one person Hinamori still called "President" was Shin.
Sitting there, Hinamori stared out the window. "I asked him some things. He answered honestly."
Rukia quietly sat down at her desk. She remembered when Shin used to sit there, and she'd stand beside him…
Back then, he taught her so much. As a first-year, she saw him as an unreachable figure—an ideal to admire from afar.
She still remembered the disbelief, the surprise, and the strange joy when he once told her he liked her.
Rukia lowered her eyes. "You still haven't given up, have you?"
Hinamori smiled faintly. "You saying that means you're backing out."
"…"
"And yes," she continued, voice calm and almost indifferent, "the Captain and Lieutenant Kotetsu really were together. I guessed as much, and it was true. But they broke up. He said they had differences—just a normal breakup. Makes sense to me. Not everyone can understand someone like him. Kotetsu was probably just drawn to how remarkable he is. That's all."
She sounded as if describing someone else's life.
"If you're backing out now, Rukia, then I'd say you're right to do so. If your feelings were so flimsy, you were never going to win his heart. It's better this way—saves you future heartbreak."
Rukia was quiet for a moment. "And you think your path is right? That continuing to love him, believing one day your sincerity will win him over—is that the right choice?"
After what happened at Shin's house that day, the two of them had kept their distance. Eventually, they opened up to each other.
Rukia now understood—Shin wasn't someone who could ever be bound to one person. That truth hurt more than his rejections ever had.
"You still don't get me, Rukia." Hinamori chuckled lightly. "And you don't get him either. That's our difference. That day at his house—you questioned him like you had the right to, like your feelings were more important than his."
"You don't love him enough. That's why you put him in a corner, why you made him feel trapped."
Rukia's brow furrowed. "Do you hear yourself? You know what he told you. Are you insane?"
"Is that what you think?" Hinamori asked, unbothered.
"…"
"Everyone has their own way. You do what you want, Rukia. But me? I'm not like you."
Rukia fell silent. Her hands clenched.
Hinamori stood, calm as ever. "I'm graduating next year. I plan to join the 10th Division."
"…"
Rukia looked outside, her fingers tracing the golden inlays on the desk's edge. The sunset spilled through the window, casting a warm light across her hair.
She stared at Hinamori's reflection in the glass—the same lifted gaze she wore the day she joined the Council. But now, it carried something unsettling. A quiet obsession that made Rukia's chest tighten.
"I should go," she said, standing up.
"Bye," Hinamori replied softly.
Elsewhere.
Kotetsu Kiyone came home and saw shoes neatly arranged at the door.
"Yūne, I'm home."
"I'm cooking—just a bit more," her sister called from the kitchen.
Kiyone stretched, entered the living room, and peeked into the kitchen, watching her sister's back.
"You've been coming home every night lately," she said.
"Where else would I go? There's nothing urgent at the Division."
"What about there?"
"…"
No answer.
Kiyone stepped to the doorframe, leaning against it. "You haven't been to his place in days, right?"
"His place" needed no explanation. Kiyone remembered how her sister practically lived there after starting to date Shin. Back then, Kiyone would tease her constantly.
She never really minded, thinking they were just lovestruck and probably planning to marry soon.
But what she never understood was why they kept it all a secret.
"I mean, he just became a Captain," Yūne said quietly from the kitchen. "He must be busy. I didn't want to get in the way."
"How is that getting in the way? If you cooked a meal like this for him, he'd be thrilled."
Yūne didn't answer.
"Grab the plates," she said instead.
Kiyone frowned but obeyed.
When the meal was ready and they sat to eat, Kiyone finally asked, "Did you two… fight?"
"No."
"Come on, something's up."
"…"
Yūne's chopsticks stopped. "…Why do you care?"
"You're my sister!" Kiyone said flatly.
"…It's no one's fault," Yūne murmured. "We just… might not be compatible."
"So you did fight!" Kiyone exclaimed.
"I said we didn't."
"You said you weren't compatible—that always leads to fights!"
Yūne stared down at her rice, gently stirring it. "He never argues. Always so calm, like nothing ever surprises him. Even our relationship—it felt like he expected it. I wanted him to get mad. Yell. Beg me to stay. Even hate me. Anything would've been better than that calm."
Her voice lowered. "But I can't blame him. Compared to his composure, my cowardice is worse. Maybe there were things he didn't want to say, but… I didn't have the courage either."
Kiyone was quiet for a long time.
"So you guys broke up?"
"…"
"You think he doesn't care about you?"
"I don't know," Yūne whispered. "I just wanted to avoid it all. The Division, him… Maybe if we'd had a proper fight, things would be clearer."
Kiyone reached out and took her sister's hand.
"If he doesn't treasure you, that's his loss. Forget him. Honestly, what's so great about that guy anyway? He's just a brat who became a Captain too young. Let him go. You'll feel better soon."
Yūne stayed silent.
Was this… really a breakup?
She'd only said she needed time to cool off. But it had been days—and Shin hadn't come to see her once.
What did that mean? Did he just not care?
"Sis?"
Yūne looked up and saw Kiyone's smiling face.
"Call in sick tomorrow. Let's go out."
"There's still work at the Division—"
"You just said it wasn't busy."
"I…"
"Come on, just one day off. The 4th Division won't collapse without you. Let's go hiking."
"…Okay."