Rukia's Gift

Night had fallen over the Shinō Academy, and the campus was nearly empty of students. Once again, Rukia was the last to leave. The echo of her tired footsteps reverberated through the deserted corridors. Moonlight spilled through high windows, casting cold, pale pools of light. Weariness etched lines between her brows—student council duties, academic pressures, and the silent scrutiny behind the Kuchiki name weighed heavily on her shoulders.

She rubbed at the corners of her sore eyes, trudging forward, her only thought to return to the Kuchiki estate—strict and orderly as it was, it still offered a brief reprieve from the clamor of the world outside.

But as she pushed open the academy's thick doors and caught sight of the figure leaning casually against the wall across the street, all the fatigue in her chest was crushed by something unseen. That silhouette—so familiar it sent a shiver through her heart.

Her steps quickened involuntarily, heels clicking against the stone path with a faint urgency. But when she drew close, she carefully smothered her emotions again, like it was just a casual run-in.

"…Why are you here?" she asked. Her voice was hoarse, though she tried to sound indifferent. Her eyes lingered on his face longer than they should have.

"Missed you," Shin replied, standing up straight, a lazy, familiar smile tugging at his lips. He reached out, as if to pull her into his arms.

But Rukia recoiled a step, small but unmistakable. She glanced around, scanning the empty street with cautious eyes. Once she was certain no one was around to witness them, her shoulders loosened slightly.

She no longer resisted. With a hesitant stiffness, she stepped into his warmth, burying her face against his chest. Her voice came muffled: "You just occasionally remember to come see me?"

"Think about you every day," Shin murmured, chin brushing the top of her head. "Just been busy. Haven't had much time."

"With someone by your side constantly, you still have time to think of me?" Rukia shot back, clearly referring to Hinamori.

"She's her. You're you. It's not the same."

"…"

Those words irritated her, but it had already been several days since she last saw him. Their last argument still lingered in her memory. Whatever—she told herself maybe he really was too busy.

Shin gently combed his fingers through her hair. "Come back to my place tonight."

Rukia froze, then shook her head. "I have to go home."

Ever since becoming part of the Kuchiki family, she'd never spent a night away—except during her assignment in the Human World. She wasn't ready to explain her situation with Shin to her brother. Not yet.

Shin tilted her chin up. "Skipping a night won't kill anyone. If anything happens, I'll handle it."

She stared at him. His eyes carried unwavering conviction, and for a moment, she wavered too. Maybe it was the late hour, maybe the warmth of his arms, or maybe her exhaustion craving refuge—but her reason quickly snapped back.

"I'll go to your place for a little while. But I need to head back later."

He didn't argue. He simply took her hand and started walking.

Yet midway, Rukia began to feel oddly uncomfortable. The sensation of her hand in his became almost searing, each step amplifying the awareness between them.

Quietly, she pulled her hand back and tucked her fingers into her sleeve.

He'd held her hand before, and back then, she didn't mind—had even cherished it in secret. But now, with everything tangled between them, public displays like this felt improper, like something forbidden and in need of concealment.

At Shin's doorstep, her hesitation returned. She paused, then followed him inside.

The door closed, and Shin shrugged off his haori, tossing it aside. Before she could adjust to the light and the change in atmosphere, he turned and pinned her against the cold door with an undeniable force.

His mouth claimed hers with a heat that silenced every protest. Rukia instinctively pressed her hands against his chest, but he caught her wrists and pinned them above her. His kiss was fierce, consuming, dissolving her resistance into ragged breaths. Her school uniform twisted askew as he pushed forward.

When his hand slipped into her loosened collar, Rukia jolted awake, forcing his hand still.

"Wait," she gasped, turning her face away from his mouth, flushed and trembling. "Let me shower first."

Shin didn't respond. He simply lifted her up in his arms.

"We'll shower together."

Petite as she was, he held her effortlessly with one arm, like carrying a child. Being lifted so easily made her flush even harder. She bit down angrily on his shoulder.

"—Tch," he hissed, but then laughed softly, gripping her tighter and carrying her straight to the bathroom. Rukia kicked helplessly, but he was immovable. With a sudden shift of his grip, he hoisted her higher. Her school uniform rode up, revealing pale legs that shimmered under the moonlight.

"Put me down!" she cried, face burning red.

The bathroom door burst open under a pulse of reiatsu. Steam curled outward.

"My clothes! They're getting soaked!"

But Shin had already placed her beneath the shower head. Warm water poured down, drenching her in seconds. Her red-and-white uniform clung to her skin, turning translucent and outlining every youthful curve.

She had planned to stay only a short while. Now, with her clothes soaked, how was she supposed to go back?

She burned with fury, ready to curse him—but when she looked up, her words froze.

Shin stared down at her, eyes like bottomless wells, thick with heat and unmasked possessiveness. She was trapped in his gaze, and all the breath left her lungs.

Without thinking, she hugged herself. Water streamed from her lashes like silent tears.

Shin's fingers brushed her cheek, thumb trailing her lips, eyes as deep as whirlpools, pulling her in.

The only sound in the bathroom was the rush of water, and the rising tempo of breath—the air thick with steam, tension, and something unspoken.

…

They didn't make it to bed until much later.

Now, Rukia lay curled against Shin in his bed, cocooned in blankets and his warmth, reluctant to move.

Her clothes were still on the bathroom floor, somehow dry now—but she didn't question how. She didn't want to move, didn't want to leave.

She'd never slept so peacefully—not even in the Kuchiki estate.

Her eyes roamed the room, trying to memorize every detail.

Then, just to spoil the mood, she asked, "Has Momo ever slept here?"

Shin, perfectly relaxed, felt a stab of helplessness. Why did women always ask things like that?

He pretended not to hear.

Rukia suddenly climbed on top of him, planting hickeys—tiny, purpling strawberries—down his collarbone and neck.

She admired her handiwork with a small, triumphant smirk.

Shin let her play. Those marks were hard to remove normally—but with his zanpakutō's power, he could erase them anytime.

He brushed aside the strands on her forehead. "I've got a gift for you."

"What is it?" Rukia asked, curious.

"Close your eyes."

Obedient, she shut them, a flutter of anticipation rising in her chest.

Shin used the system's ability, channeling the reward feedback directly into her.

Rukia's eyes snapped open. Her pupils dilated.

"This is…"

A tremendous surge of spiritual pressure exploded inside her, blooming in an instant. She stared at him, stunned.

Having now completed full intimate bonds with Rukia, Hinamori, and Isane, Shin's reward feedback had reached 30% of what he received. For a student like Rukia, the power boost was seismic—her reiatsu now rivaled a Seated Officer's.

"It's from my zanpakutō," Shin said casually. "Don't tell anyone."

Rukia was still reeling. The strength inside her felt unnatural.

After a moment: "Will it… stay like this?"

"It'll get even stronger. But for now, this is the best I can do."

This level already…

Rukia didn't know how to respond. She'd spent so many hours juggling student council work and training late into the night, just to keep up with the top students. To prove she wasn't just some noble name riding her brother's coattails.

And Shin had done it in seconds.

He stroked her cheek. "You're not happy?"

"…"

Of course she was. But it was all so overwhelming, she couldn't form a proper reply.

"Thank you…" she whispered.

"Come again?"

She looked at him directly. "Thank you."

"Kiss me."

The second he said it, she launched herself at him.

"Wait—you're not sore anymore?"

…

That night, she didn't return home. They kept going into the early hours, Rukia far more fervent than before. Shin only stopped because he genuinely began to worry for her.

At dawn, sunlight pierced the window, waking her. She sat up abruptly, panic rising.

She hadn't gone home.

"President?" she called. No answer.

He was probably already at the Division.

Then came the real fear: how was she going to explain staying out all night?

But the sensation of strength still pulsing inside her calmed her slightly.

It was worth it.

Her clothes were folded neatly on the bed. Dry.

She didn't ask how.

In the living room, she spotted a note on the table.

"Food's in the fridge. Eat before you leave."

She set the note down and looked around.

She'd been here before—but never like this. Now it felt like her home.

She lay on the couch, relaxing fully for once.

If only… it could just be the two of us…

That thought brought a shadow to her eyes. Then anger. She grabbed a pillow and vented it with violence.

After calming down, she headed to the bathroom. There were multiple sets of toiletries—Shin's, hers… and a third.

Hinamori's.

She'd noticed last night, of course. Neither of them had said anything. But now, it stung.

She stared at Momo's things. It felt like Momo was grinning smugly at her through the mirror, flaunting her place.

No.

Rukia wasn't going to leave without leaving a mark.

She went to the bedroom, opened the wardrobe—and found a section filled with women's underwear. Hinamori's style was obvious.

After a long pause, Rukia undressed, slid off her own underwear, and placed it inside.

She was sure Momo would love the gift.