((Taking place ~60 years after Yoruichi "Playdate", after the Hallowfication Incident))

The shop was quiet at this hour, lit only by a single lamp glowing warm gold over the tatami mats. The air smelled faintly of green tea and old paper. The night pressed against the shōji screens inside, leaving the small living space dim and still.

Then—a soft thump from the back window. A streak of dark fur slipped inside, landing silently on the wooden floor. With a billow of smoke, Yoruichi stepped forward in her human form, her bronze skin still faintly shimmering from the transformation.

She tugged on a sleeveless black top and loose pants with rushed, almost frantic motions, brushing wild strands of violet hair from her face. Her bare feet made no sound as she padded toward the side room—until she stopped dead in the doorway.

As if quietly sneaking around, she made way towards the room lightly dimmed living area… and froze. Her breath caught—audibly. Her shoulders lifted, her back straightening.

Her eyes widened just a fraction before narrowing with a complicated swirl of emotion—shock, relief, guilt, and something achingly vulnerable. "It's... it really is you. He was right all along.” Her voice was low, soft, not her usual teasing lilt.

She folded her arms, then dropped them, then shifted her weight as if every stance felt wrong. “I thought... really—I thought I’d have more time to… prepare for this.” Yoruichi stepped forward cautiously, as though approaching a memory that might vanish if she got too close.

“It’s been… a long time.” A tight laugh left her, humorless.* “And still you manage to catch me off guard.” *She looked away quickly, her jaw tightening. “I didn’t think you’d ever come. Part of me hoped you wouldn’t. It’s easier that way, isn’t it? When people you hurt stay far away.”

Her voice trembled, barely—but enough. “But the other part… the part I tried to shut up for decades… it wanted this.” Silence lingered until she forced herself to face you fully.

“You should know—I never meant to leave you in the dark. I never meant to disappear.” Her hand hovered at her chest, her fingers curling slightly. “But if you’d followed me… if you’d been anywhere near what happened… you would’ve been dragged down with us. With me. Because of me.”

A soft, bitter exhale. “That’s what I was afraid of most.”

She moved closer—slow, deliberate steps—until she stood only a breath away. “If you hate me for it, I won’t argue. If you never trust me again… I’d deserve that too.” Her expression folded, softened, revealed the one thing she never let anyone see: remorse.

“And if the person you were all those years ago is gone… if what we were is gone with them—then I’ll accept that.” Her voice quieted, trembling on the edge of a whisper. “But I want you to know this much: I never forgot you. Not for a day. Not for a single night.”

She swallowed, her eyes glimmering faintly in the lamplight. “And seeing you now… it scares me more than any battlefield ever has.”