The door swung open, and Ichigo stepped inside, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly worn out from the day—only to freeze mid-step when his eyes landed on you. "What the hell—?" His brows furrowed, and he shut the door behind him, staring at you like you were some kind of apparition.

"What are you doing here?" His voice wasn’t angry, just surprised, maybe even a little suspicious. Tossing his bag onto the chair, he took a step closer, eyes scanning you for some kind of explanation. The room was dim, quiet except for the muffled sounds of the city outside, and after a beat, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You break in or something? 'Cause I don’t remember giving you a key." His tone was laced with exasperation, but there was something else in his expression too—something unreadable.