Ichigo was still thinking about that piece of paper. In his pocket. A folded white sheet. Seven characters. *I like you.* Ever since yesterday after school, it had been lingering at the edge of his mind. While eating breakfast, while climbing the slope to school, it kept flickering back into view. Who was it. The handwriting was neat. Blue ballpoint pen. But he had no idea who. ……There was no point thinking about it. Ichigo opened the classroom door. Year 2, Class 3. The usual place. The white smell of chalk and morning sunlight. It was supposed to be just another ordinary day. --- A few minutes after homeroom started, Ukitake-sensei stood in front of the podium without warning. Black hair streaked with white, a thin frame. He cleared his throat lightly before speaking. "[gentle]We have a transfer student joining the class today. Be nice to her" The classroom stirred. "A transfer student?" "From where?" "Boy or girl?" Voices overlapped. Ichigo was looking out the window, only half-listening. A transfer student, huh. Well, it didn't really matter— *Bang.* The door flew open. Actually, it was a bit too forceful. It bounced off the wall on the hallway side hard enough that everyone in the classroom turned to look at once. A girl stood in the doorway. Silver-white hair caught the morning light and swayed smoothly. Semi-long. She wore her navy blazer uniform properly, her posture perfectly straight. She was shorter than Ichigo. But the way she stood—how to put it—it was like a warrior's stance. Still in the position of having just opened the door, she surveyed the entire classroom. Her pale violet eyes moved slowly across the room. *(…Who is that?)* Ichigo found himself sitting up. The girl walked to the front of the classroom. She stood in front of the blackboard and opened her mouth to address the entire class. "[serious]I'm Kuchiki Rukia. I have complete understanding of human life. I look forward to working with you all" *Snap.* The self-introduction was over. *(That was short.)* The class fell silent. The way she said "complete understanding of human life" was a bit odd. But classmates were still looking at the girl with "what kind of person is she?" expressions on their faces. Then it happened. *Buzz buzz buzz—buzz buzz buzz—.* A pocket vibrated. Rukia's pocket. It was a ringtone. The classroom went completely quiet again. Rukia froze for just a moment, then pulled a smartphone from her pocket. She glanced at the screen—then flipped it over and held it to her ear. "[serious]…Hello?" No one said anything. Three seconds later, someone burst out laughing. That triggered the whole classroom to erupt. Giggles and snorts came from all over. Rukia looked around the classroom with a "why are you laughing?" expression. That only made the laughter worse. As for Ichigo—he couldn't laugh. He didn't even know why he couldn't laugh. He understood it was funny. He understood that a transfer student holding a smartphone upside down to her ear was weird. But something completely different was happening in Ichigo's head. This girl—I feel like I've met her somewhere before. Silver-white hair. Violet eyes. That warrior's stance. The way she held her back straight, like she was standing on a battlefield. A dream, maybe. But it felt far more real than a dream. "[serious]…Was something wrong?" Rukia said this while putting the smartphone back in her pocket. The call had already ended—or maybe it had never connected in the first place. "[laughing]No, Kuchiki-san, your phone was upside down" "[serious]…I see. No problem" There was definitely a problem. But Rukia didn't seem to care at all, turning toward Ukitake-sensei instead. "[gentle]Kuchiki-san, your seat is—ah, the one next to Kurosaki is empty, so there" The teacher pointed toward Ichigo. Rukia looked in that direction. She didn't hesitate. Without a single moment of doubt, she walked straight toward Ichigo. She went down the hallway-side aisle and *thump*—sat down in the empty seat next to him. Ichigo watched it from the corner of his eye. And he noticed something. She hadn't looked for her seat by looking at him. Before the teacher even said anything, she had already started walking in this direction. "[serious]Ichigo. Explain how this classroom works" A voice came from beside him. Ichigo froze. He slowly turned to look at her. Rukia was facing forward, speaking as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "[surprised]…How do you know my name?" "[serious]…I saw it on the class roster" The answer came quickly. But—there was a pause. Just the slightest hesitation before she answered. For a moment, her eyes seemed to look somewhere far away. "[serious]I checked the roster in advance. That's all" "[surprised]No, but—" "[gentle]Well then, let's begin homeroom. I have two announcements" Ukitake-sensei's voice cut in. Ichigo had to turn toward him. The teacher started writing something on the blackboard. The sound of chalk. —The questioning faded away. But a nagging feeling remained in his head. Like a pebble that wouldn't disappear, it was just there. --- During class, Ichigo kept stealing glances to his side. During Japanese class, Rukia tried to pick up her notebook but grabbed a piece of chalk instead—no, it was chalk that had been sitting on the teacher's desk, and she'd mistaken it for her pencil. When she pulled out a mechanical pencil, the lead broke and rolled across the floor. She bent down to pick it up and knocked her textbook off her desk, which knocked over a stack of handouts on the podium. The class laughed again. Rukia made a face that could have been either embarrassed or angry—it was hard to tell. Ichigo watched the whole sequence unfold and thought to himself: *She said she had complete understanding of human life, but is that actually right?* But that profile view of her face—he still felt like he'd seen it somewhere, and Ichigo decided to stop thinking about it. --- After school came. Ichigo passed through Harukaze Shopping Street on his way home. An arcade shopping street that stretched from in front of Karakura Station, it was crowded with shoppers during the day. As evening approached, the flow of people calmed down a bit, and the smell of cooking began to drift from each shop. When he passed in front of Minazuki-do, a traditional sweets shop, he spotted a familiar head of silver-white hair. Kuchiki Rukia was sitting on a bench in front of the shop. Ichigo stopped in his tracks. In front of Rukia was a paper bag from Minazuki-do. Mochi dumplings peeked out from the open bag. White, round mochi—there were a lot of them. Counting them, there were about twelve. Rukia was just putting one in her mouth, chewing away, then reaching for another. Ichigo couldn't help but call out. "[surprised]…What are you doing?" Rukia looked up. She didn't seem surprised, just looked at him. "[serious]Research into human food culture" "[sarcastic]Eating twelve of them is research?" "[serious]More data is better" He couldn't argue with that. Ichigo stood at the edge of the bench next to Rukia and peered into the bag. Minazuki-do's mochi dumplings were 180 yen each—an eighty-seven-year-old establishment. More expensive than the melon bread from the school store. "Don't you have any friends?" He regretted it a little as soon as he said it. It sounded harsh. But Rukia didn't look hurt. She just paused for a moment, then held out one of the mochi dumplings toward him. "[cold]Eat" "Huh, no—" "[cold]I said eat. That's an order" "[surprised]Why are you ordering me around?!" But he took it anyway. For some reason, he couldn't refuse. He held the mochi in his hand and reluctantly sat down on the bench. When he bit into it, it was sweet and soft. The filling was generous, and the skin was chewy. It was good. The two of them sat in silence for a while, eating mochi. The foot traffic in the shopping street gradually decreased. A child's voice came from somewhere in the distance. BGM played from one of the shops. "Welcome, welcome—oh my" A voice called out. The sliding door of Minazuki-do opened, and the shop owner, Minazuki Genzo, an old man in his seventies, poked his head out. A round face over seventy, white apron. His eyes were grinning mischievously. "[laughing]A young couple, is it? Eating our mochi together so happily—" Ichigo nearly dropped his mochi. "[surprised]That's not—! We're not—! It's not like that—!" His face burned hot. All the way to his ears. Beside him, Rukia furrowed her brow and looked at the old man. "[serious]What is a couple? A bowl?" All three of them stopped. "[surprised]…A bowl?" "[serious]Cup. Isn't that a type of tea cup?" "[laughing]No, no, no, not a bowl!" "[angry]That's not the part you should be correcting!!" The old man burst out laughing, holding his stomach. Giggles came from inside the shop too. Rukia looked between the two of them with a "what's so funny?" expression. Her serious face only made them laugh harder, and Ichigo covered his face with his hand, muttering "seriously…" The laughter died down and the old man went back inside the shop. Just the two of them again. Evening in the shopping street. Light from the arcade ceiling slanted through at an angle. A breeze blew, and Rukia's silver-white hair swayed gently. Ichigo, facing forward, took the last bite of his mochi without really thinking about it. It felt… comfortable. He thought it was strange. Eating mochi on a shopping street bench with a transfer student he'd just met. That was strange, but somehow it didn't feel awkward. Rukia said something in a small voice. "[whispers]…Life here isn't so bad" It sounded like she was talking to herself. It wasn't clear if she was even speaking to Ichigo. She just whispered it while facing forward, like she was muttering to herself. "[surprised]Huh? Did you say something?" "[cold]Nothing" She put another mochi in her mouth and left it at that. Ichigo felt a slight nagging about how quickly she'd deflected, but he didn't understand what he'd asked, so he couldn't press further. *Life here*, she'd said. What did that mean? Where was she before she came here? His chest felt just slightly—warm. He didn't know why. But it did. --- They started getting ready to leave. Rukia stood up and folded the bag. Ichigo also got up from the bench and slung his bag over his shoulder. For some reason, his hand went to his pocket. The white paper. The love letter he'd been carrying since yesterday. Ichigo pulled it out and stared at it blankly. The arcade lights reflected off the paper. *I like you.* No sender. "Who the hell is the sender…" It was just a mutter. He wasn't talking to anyone, just speaking out loud. In that moment—he felt a presence. He looked to the side. Rukia was still there. She should have been leaving, but she hadn't moved a step. And Rukia's gaze was directed at Ichigo's hand—at the piece of paper. Just for a moment. Just a single moment. But he definitely saw it. Her profile seemed to harden, like she was holding something back. The next instant, she looked away. She was looking toward the back of the shopping street. "[cold]What are you looking at. Go home already" Her voice was curt. She said only that and started walking. The hem of her uniform fluttered. Her silver-white hair disappeared into the crowd. "[surprised]Wait—Rukia, you—" He tried to call her back. Too late. She'd already vanished into the crowd. Ichigo stood in the middle of the shopping street, gripping the piece of paper. The sweet smell still drifted from Minazuki-do. The arcade lights were coming on one by one. He didn't know who the sender was. He didn't know why Rukia had known his name. He didn't know what that hardened profile meant for just an instant. There was a restlessness in his chest. Not anxiety. But not calm either. Only the sweetness of the mochi remained in his mouth.