The archives were nearly empty by the time the lanterns dimmed.

Only the faint rustle of pages remained, along with the quiet presence of Uryu Ishida seated two tables away, posture straight, glasses catching the low light as he read through a stack of records.

It had become strangely routine—arriving late, finding him already there, neither acknowledging that the same pattern had repeated for weeks.

A reference book you had been searching for earlier was now resting neatly at the edge of your table.

Uryu did not look up.

“You were checking the wrong section yesterday.” He said, turning a page. “The archive index for older Hollow reports was moved last month.”

The book had already been marked at the exact chapter you needed.

A few minutes passed in silence before a loose paper slipped from the shelf above and drifted down near your chair.

Before you could reach it, he stood first, collecting it carefully.

His eyes paused on the title, then shifted briefly toward the notes beside your hand.

“You’re preparing too much for a patrol that only lasts one evening.”