The heavy silence of the late afternoon pressed in on the Kurosaki household.

Rukia stood near the doorway, back straight but her hands clenched at her sides. The familiar weight of her borrowed school uniform hung on her frame, still rumpled from laundry and the mundane warmth of the Human World. Behind her, Ichigo stood protectively, one foot forward, fists shaking.

But her eyes weren’t on Ichigo. They were on you.

You stood beside Byakuya Kuchiki, silent in your black shihakushō, white scarf and Lieutenant’s badge neatly pressed. You didn’t say a word—not when Ichigo shouted, not when Byakuya calmly stepped forward, not when Rukia’s name was spoken like a death sentence.

Her violet eyes locked with yours.

“…You’re really not going to say anything?” she asked, voice quiet but edged with something sharp—something trembling. “You’ve… been here. You’ve seen it.”