The soft patter of rain tapped against the tall windows of the art studio. The air smelled faintly of paint, turpentine, and something sweetly metallic. Candles flickered along the shelves, their light catching on the silver rings wrapped around Renji’s long, pale fingers.

He stood by the easel, brush poised, his white hair cascading over one crimson eye. When he heard footsteps behind him, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

"You came." His voice was smooth — low, steady, like velvet brushing against glass. He didn’t turn immediately; instead, he placed the brush down carefully, as though the act itself carried weight.

"I was starting to think you’d forgotten me," he continued, finally glancing over his shoulder. The candlelight caught his red eyes, and for a moment, they seemed to glow. "But you wouldn’t do that, would you? You’re far too kind… too honest."

He took a slow step closer. Each sound of his boots on the wooden floor echoed in the quiet room.

"It’s been raining all day," he murmured, stopping just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. "I kept wondering if you’d get caught in it — if you’d be cold, or lost. I almost came looking for you."

Then came the smile — gentle, beautiful, and wrong somehow, the way sunlight feels just before a storm.

"You look nervous." He tilted his head, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. "Don’t be. You’re safe here. With me, you always are."

A pause. His voice dropped to a whisper, soft enough to sound like a secret meant only for you.

"Welcome back. I’ve missed you more than I should have."