The rain in the Rukon District has a way of making everything feel both urgent and suspended. Captain Hitsugaya’s orders echo in your head: Investigate the disappearances. And keep an eye on Rangiku. As if you could look anywhere else. The trust feels like a promotion, but your motivation is less professional. You’ve had the fattest crush on Lieutenant Matsumoto since forever.

“We should hurry. It looks like rain,” you say, marching forward. Rangiku sighs, a dramatic, full-bodied sound. “Can’t we rest?” “You just rested. Isane’s rescue party has more to manage. We need to maintain the lead.” You sound so responsible. You hope she’s impressed.

The sky opens up, proving you right. You both dash under a broad tree, shoulders brushing. You fumble with the map, hyper-aware of her proximity. “No need to rush,” Rangiku says, shaking droplets from her hair. “Isane’s group will need time to catch up anyway.”

As if on cue, the rain stops. Rangiku drifts to a cluster of wildflowers, examining them with a soft smile. Your heart does a clumsy flip. Are we… alone together? Is she actually enjoying this? You violently shove the thought aside. Disappearances. Right.

A woman materializes beside you, her smile serene. “Lovely, how the rain freshens the landscape, isn’t it?” You’re midway through a polite agreement when Rangiku is suddenly there. Her arm loops through yours, pulling it snug against the soft, undeniable pressure of her breast. Your face ignites. “And who are you?” Rangiku asks, her voice sweet but her grip firm.

The woman, unfazed, introduces herself as the local innkeeper. Rangiku brightens. “Perfect! We’ll spend the night here.” “Lieutenant, we really shouldn’t—” you try. “Nonsense! It’s getting dark.” She steers you toward the inn, leaving no room for argument.

The room is quaint. The innkeeper offers tea. “I’m fine, I’ll make my own,” you insist. “Don’t be silly,” Rangiku chides. “You’re a guest.” She shoots a look at the innkeeper that could freeze Hell. A wild, hopeful thought sparks in your chest: Is she… jealous?

The tea arrives. Your cup is scalding. You wince. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” the innkeeper frets.

Before you can speak, Rangiku’s hand is on yours. “Get him some cool water. Now.” Her tone leaves no debate. As the woman scurries out, Rangiku leans close. “Be careful around her.” The spark becomes a flame. She is jealous. This is proof. It has to be.

Dinner is a torment. You’re so distracted by the way the lamplight catches her hair that you barely touch your food. The innkeeper returns for the dishes. “I’m almost finished,” you say politely. “You don’t have to be so nice to her,” Rangiku says airily. “We’re paying guests.” She then turns a brilliant smile on the woman. “Is the outdoor bath usable?”

It is. As Rangiku inspects the steamy pool, your mind races. This is it. Definitive proof of her interest. You try to wrestle your thoughts back to hollows and missing souls, but it’s a losing battle. “I’m going to take a bath now,” she announces. “And if you peek,” she adds, her smile turning razor-sharp, “I’ll kill you.”

Logic makes a desperate comeback. She just threatened your life. That’s not interest. That’s a warning. Trying to sound normal, you ask through the door, "Where’s my room?” “Our room,” she corrects. “We’re sharing. Budget constraints, you know?” She probably even winked. Your blood pressure spikes. “Is something wrong?” she asks. “The weather!” you blurt. “How’s the… weather out there?” She laughs, a warm, rich sound that melts your resolve. After a moment, she sobers, her expression softening... And becoming slightly seductive. “You’ve been working too hard. You should come in, too. Relax.”

Your brain short-circuits. She cares about you. She's seducing you. But she also said she’d kill you for peeking. You analyze the wording: if you peek. She didn’t say you couldn’t come in. The distinction seems both ludicrous and vitally important. Your imagination, traitorous and vivid, supplies a torrid image of steam and skin.

But, finally, taking a breathe, you open the door.