Ichimaru Gin was seated on a bed, undergoing treatment from several Fourth Division medics. In the same room were Ōmaeda Marechiyo and Saitō Hisaya.
When the two of them first saw Gin being carried in, they were both stunned.
Gin… lost too?
That… couldn't be. Unless… had Gin deliberately held back?
Ōmaeda couldn't hold his tongue.
"Ichimaru-fukutaichō… you… also lost to that Tachikawa?"
Gin smiled, eyes narrowing to slits.
"Mm. I'm no match either. Same as you—I had my reishi joints pierced."
Ōmaeda and Saitō exchanged a glance, both sucking in a cold breath.
Pierced reishi joints weren't especially hard to treat, but they took time—there was no way any of them would recover in time to fight again today.
After answering, Gin dropped his gaze, falling silent on the bed, no one knowing what thoughts ran through his mind.
Not long after, footsteps sounded in the hall. Gin's eyes shifted faintly, lifting toward the door.
Matsumoto Rangiku was standing there.
Ōmaeda and Saitō noticed too, but one glance at Gin told them enough—they wisely kept quiet.
Rangiku stepped inside at an unhurried pace. She ignored Ōmaeda, Saitō, and the Fourth Division medics, walking straight to Gin's bedside.
"Come to see me specially?" Gin looked up at her, smiling the same narrow-eyed smile he always wore. A smile that somehow always felt hollow, a smile he insisted on keeping on his face, one that gave people the impression of slyness.
Rangiku was silent for a moment.
"…Are you… alright?"
"Which part do you mean?" Gin replied, still smiling.
Her words faltered.
She'd already spent no small amount of courage leaving the exchange meet to come here. But seeing Gin now, realizing that he still met her with the same distant mask.
What was he truly thinking inside?
Even if they had met in the arena—would it really have gone the way she'd imagined?
She had never been able to see through Gin's heart. How could she be sure that all these years he'd really been hiding some unspoken burden?
A part of her was suddenly relieved she wouldn't be facing him in the ring.
Sometimes… not knowing was the only way to keep a small, fragile hope alive.
"You're injured. Is it serious?" she asked softly, eyes lowered.
"Just the reishi joints in both arms. I won't be able to use them for a while—nothing more."
"…Mm."
"…"
An odd silence settled between them.
It made Ōmaeda and Saitō on the side feel unbearably awkward.
Gin spoke again, smiling as ever.
"You'll be up soon, won't you? Is it alright for you to be here?"
"…"
In the end, Rangiku couldn't say or ask anything. She gave a single "Mm," then turned and left the medical room.
And once she stepped outside, a wave of emptiness washed through her.
Maybe I should have asked something. Better than still knowing nothing.
But that was only the kind of regret that comes afterward. She had come here with the intention to ask… yet when the moment came, she'd let every word die in her throat.
She returned to the exchange meet just in time to see Kotsubaki Sentarō stepping down from the ring after losing to Nobu.
The Thirteenth Division's Third Seat had been defeated almost instantly, but was uninjured—an outcome some had already begun to suspect.
Rangiku didn't return to the Captains' seats. Instead, after Kotetsu Isane announced Nobu's victory, she stepped directly onto the arena.
Nobu raised his brows slightly when he saw her.
"Rangiku-san—how brave of you."
He'd noticed her leave after his match with Gin, guessed she had likely gone to see him.
Could it be this woman means to avenge him?
Rangiku quickly composed herself, answering evenly, "Your strength is surprising… but it only proves I wasn't wrong about you before."
Nobu chuckled.
"Rangiku-san's kindness is something I've always remembered. But that doesn't mean I'll go easy on you in this match."
Rangiku snorted. "No need. You're underestimating Tenth Division too much!"
"I wouldn't dare. I just remember we had a certain bet about this meet, and for that—I'll have to win."
Her eyes narrowed, teeth gritting.
"…You little brat."
Steel sang as she drew her Zanpakutō and charged without another word—startling Kotetsu Isane at the side.
But the result was predictable. Nobu, unwilling to drag it out just because they knew each other, disarmed her in two moves and placed his blade against her snow-white throat, forcing her still.
Calmly, he said, "Once this exchange meet is over, I'll come find Rangiku-san to settle our bet."
Her expression shifted, but her mouth stayed stubborn.
"What bet? Did I ever promise you anything?"
"Rangiku-san… are you planning to go back on your word?"
She turned her head away.
"What word? I don't remember. Losing's losing! Stop spouting nonsense!"
Nobu studied her for a few moments, then quietly withdrew his blade.
Rangiku had thought he'd press the matter—she was ready to deny everything to the end. But to her surprise, he let it drop.
Puzzled, she glanced back—and saw him looking at her with a faint smile.
He didn't speak, but his lips moved soundlessly.
She read the words immediately.
Good onee-san.
In an instant, goosebumps prickled her whole body, a strange, indescribable feeling spreading in her chest. It wasn't disgust, not exactly—it was just that she had never imagined he would actually call her that.
Embarrassment, shyness, irritation—all tangled together until she felt heat rise in her cheeks.
She glared at him fiercely, then turned on her heel and strode off the stage without a word.
Nobu watched her go, smiling to himself.
A glance at his system interface told him—her favorability hadn't dropped.
Rangiku returned to her seat, her thoughts in chaos.
Next to her, Hitsugaya Tōshirō's dry, teasing voice cut in, "Vice-Captain, your match ended fast. I thought you had some trump card."
Rangiku's temper flared instantly.
She hammered her fist down on his head.
"You little brat—you've got no manners at all!"