The love letter was still stuck in the back of his mind. That white paper. Seven characters. "I like you." It had been sitting in his pocket for days now. The sender was unknown. And yesterday, when Rukia saw the slip of paper in front of Minazuki-do, her profile in that moment—it was still nagging at him. She knew something. That face had said it all. Ichigo was changing into his indoor shoes at the entrance when these thoughts occupied him. The morning noise drifted down from the hallway. He put his shoes away, slung his bag over his shoulder— "[serious]You're late." The voice came the moment he stepped into Class 2-3. Kuchiki Rukia was standing in front of his desk. A rag in her hands. A wet rag. Soaking wet. "[surprised]……What the hell are you doing?" "[serious]Removing dust. Can't you see?" Rukia was wiping his desk with the matter-of-fact expression of someone doing the obvious. Carefully. From end to end. Vigorously. The classroom was only half full. Before morning homeroom. Sunlight streamed through the windows. In that light, only Rukia stood with the rag in hand, legs planted firmly. "[serious]Dust is the enemy. It must be eliminated." "[surprised]Hey, nobody asked you to do this!" "[serious]Be grateful." She thrust the rag at him. Ichigo took it. He couldn't bring himself to refuse. It was soaking. "[surprised]Wait—why is it this wet?!" His uniform sleeve was instantly drenched. His left arm looked like it had been caught in the rain. Ichigo flailed his sleeve. Water flew. The boy in the next seat pulled his chair back with a "whoa." "[serious]An appropriate way to receive it." "[angry]How is that appropriate?!" Classmates watching from a distance started giggling. Rukia looked at them with an expression that said "what's funny?" before putting the empty rag back into her bag. Her own bag. "[serious]By the way, I wiped it yesterday too." "[surprised]You come here every day?!" "[serious]Research." Rukia returned to her seat without ceremony. Posture perfect, blazer buttoned properly, she pulled out a textbook and placed it on her desk. Her ears were just slightly red. But from Ichigo's angle, he couldn't quite see. "[cold]Seriously……" With his sleeve still damp, Ichigo sat down. --- Lunch break came. Ichigo was just pulling out his lunch—bread from the school store—when Rukia tapped his shoulder. "[serious]Come to the roof." "[surprised]Huh, why?" "[serious]Come." It was an order. A no-questions-asked order. Ichigo put the bread back in his bag and was pulled toward the roof. Up the stairs at the edge of the main building, pushing through the metal door. Autumn wind blew in. The sky was high, thin clouds drifting across it. Rukia went first and sat down by the railing. Then she pulled two wrapped bundles from her bag. "[serious]I made them. Be grateful." Ichigo froze for three seconds looking at what she offered. Onigiri—supposedly. They had the shape of onigiri. Triangular, with seaweed. But the color was black. Pitch black. Not the black of seaweed. Entirely black. Like charcoal. "[surprised]……Is that charcoal?" "[serious]Food." "Food……" Ichigo took it. It was heavy. Surprisingly heavy when he held it. The surface was rough and crumbly. Rukia was already biting into the other black lump. With an expression that said "it's normal." Ichigo cautiously took a bite. ——The outside crumbled away, burned to bits. But. Inside, it was surprisingly normal. Soft, properly salted, with pickled plum inside. His expression became complicated. "[surprised]……It's not bad." "[serious]Of course not." Rukia crossed her arms and turned slightly away. Her ears were red. This time he could see clearly. Ichigo noticed, but said nothing. Autumn wind blew. Rukia's silver-white hair swayed gently. For a while, they ate onigiri together. Voices drifted up from the schoolyard below. A PE class, maybe. The distant sound of the JR train. Ichigo was on his third bite of the charred onigiri when a thought struck him. Why does she make these every day? "[gentle]Rukia……making onigiri every day, isn't that a lot of trouble?" The thought came out of his mouth as-is. Rukia stopped. Her hand froze mid-bite. Her profile froze. One, two, three seconds. "[whispers]……Shut up." A small voice. A mumbled voice. Still facing forward, not looking at Ichigo, she just said that. Silence came. Wind blew across the roof. Clouds moved. Ichigo held the onigiri and tried to grasp the meaning of those words. Was she angry? Didn't feel like it. Was she embarrassed? Maybe not. But her ears were red. Really red. ……What was that? Ichigo faced forward. He ate the last bite of his onigiri. The charred part crumbled away. But it was good. Better than melon bread, somehow. More satisfying. (Being with this girl, it's not boring.) He thought that—and didn't think beyond it. --- After school came. The last class ended and Ichigo slung his bag over his shoulder. As he headed toward the hallway, he saw Rukia outside the hallway-side window. Walking steadily down the corridor. She'd left before him. For some reason, he followed. Down the stairs, changing into shoes at the entrance, out through the gate. Walking down the slope, Rukia maintained her steady pace ahead. When Ichigo caught up and fell into step beside her, she didn't even turn around. "[cold]Why are you following me?" "[sarcastic]You left first." "[serious]We're heading the same direction. Coincidence." He was certain it was no coincidence, but Ichigo didn't say so. At the bottom of the slope, the orange sign for "Yorimichi" came into view. Steam from steamed buns visible through the glass. Ichigo's feet naturally turned toward it. "Buying a steamed bun." "[serious]I'm going too. Research." "[sarcastic]The convenience store is research now?" "[serious]Human purchasing behavior is fascinating." The convenience store was warm inside. The machine at the entrance said "Welcome." Rukia stopped for a moment. Looking at the machine. Her expression said "it spoke." "[serious]This box is talking." "[laughing]It's a sensor! The machine's doing it!" "[serious]……I know. I was just confirming." She looked like she didn't know. But Ichigo didn't press further. They bought two steamed buns. One hundred thirty yen each. Standing in front of the store, they ate side by side. The autumn evening wind was a little cold. "[serious]Ichigo. Do you like this world?" It came out of nowhere. Ichigo stopped mid-bite. "[surprised]Huh? What's with the sudden question?" "[serious]Answer me." Rukia kept facing forward, her gaze directed toward Karakura Station. The evening sky shifted from orange to purple. Lights were beginning to come on in the Harukaze shopping arcade. "[gentle]It's normal, right? The food's good, it's peaceful……" "[whispers]……I see. Normal." She murmured it softly. Still holding the bun, still facing forward. Something was seeping through her profile. Loneliness, maybe. Or looking at something far away. (Is something……wrong?) Ichigo tried to open his mouth. But the words wouldn't come. He didn't know what to ask. Rukia ate her bun in two bites. Quick. "[serious]Let's go." She started walking. Ichigo couldn't say "wait a minute." ——But. Ichigo finished the last bite of his bun and made a decision. His hand went into his pocket. The white paper touched his fingers. That folded slip he'd been carrying for days. "[serious]Rukia." He called out. Rukia stopped in her tracks. Didn't turn around. But she stopped. "[serious]Actually, I still don't know who sent this. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?" He held out the paper. Rukia turned around. Her gaze fell on the slip. For a moment. Her expression froze. The next instant—— "[angry]That's ridiculous!!" She exploded. "[angry]Throw that away! It's garbage! Get rid of it immediately!!" Her face was red all the way to her ears. The quiet from her profile moments ago was gone, and she was firing words at Ichigo while looking away. "[surprised]Why are you the one getting mad?!" "[angry]I'm not angry! Absolutely not angry! This is……appropriate information disposal instructions!!" "What information disposal?!" "[angry]Shut up!!" She ran off. Her silver-white hair disappeared into the evening crowd of the shopping arcade. Ichigo looked back and forth between the love letter in his hand and the direction Rukia had vanished. "[cold]……What's with her?" Ichigo was left alone in front of the convenience store. Only the steamed bun bag remained in his hand. The mystery of the sender was no closer to being solved. If anything, Rukia herself had become an even bigger mystery floating in front of him. --- What happened that night, Ichigo had no way of knowing. In one corner of the Harukaze shopping arcade. At Book Mine, the used bookstore—a maze of bookshelves where Byakuya stopped by three times a week—in a hidden corner seat in the back, a figure with white hair sat. Byakuya quietly closed a book. No one else was in the store. Only the distant noise of the night shopping arcade seeped through the gaps between shelves. Byakuya looked out the window. The Karakura night view spread out. Station lights, shopping arcade illumination, residential area lamps. "[cold]……It will get noisy." He only murmured that. In the direction of his gaze—through the window of Café Komorébi, a silhouette sat at a table, staring intently at something. Holding something small. Something that looked like a piece of paper. What it was looking at couldn't be determined from this distance in the night. Byakuya didn't confirm whose outline it was. He simply returned the book to the shelf and stood quietly. --- The next morning, when Ichigo entered the classroom——Rukia, who was always there early wiping his desk, wasn't there. Ichigo paused for a moment. Rukia came in late, three minutes before homeroom. Her blazer buttoned properly, walking straight—the moment her eyes met Ichigo's, she quickly looked away. She went down the opposite aisle and sat at her desk. Ichigo looked at his own desk. Today it hadn't been wiped with a rag. Was she angry about yesterday? Or was it something else? He couldn't tell. The love letter in his pocket sat there, waiting. The sender's name remained unknown today as well.