The corridor lights were dim and hazy. Rosse strolled through at an unhurried pace and pushed open the tightly shut bedroom door.
No lamp was lit inside the room. Only the moonlight filtered through the paper window, spilling down a cold, pale white.
And within that halo of light, Inoue Orihime was still wearing that slightly oversized Shihakusho, kneeling in the middle of the tatami with an anxious expression on her face.
Her uneasy little hands clutched tightly at the hem of her clothes, like a prisoner awaiting judgment.
Hearing the sound of the door being pushed open, Inoue Orihime immediately sprang up from the floor like a startled little rabbit, with a sudden "thump!" her two frightened big white rabbits bounced wildly.
When she saw clearly that the person who entered was Rosse, completely unscathed, her face instantly turned deathly pale.
"Th-that! Mr. Rosse! Kurosaki-kun… how is he?"
She could never forget the scene before she left.
Kurosaki Ichigo, transformed into a monster, charging at this man in utter despair.
Since Rosse now stood here without a scratch on him, Ichigo's fate after challenging him was already obvious.
"Him, huh…"
Rosse walked slowly up to the girl. His tall figure easily cast a shadow over her. He bent down slightly, his long fingers elegantly lifting Inoue Orihime's delicate chin, forcing her to raise her head.
"Relax. That lucky little brat should be doing pretty well right now. He's probably still alive and kicking."
Hearing this, Inoue Orihime's tightly wound body visibly relaxed.
But immediately after, Rosse's free hand slowly moved upward. With a faint trace of warmth, it gently caressed the girl's cheek, tender like a freshly peeled egg. His tone turned playful, yet dangerous.
"However, that's only because someone paid the price for his recklessness, even going so far as to save him at any cost. But, Inoue Orihime…"
His fingertips slid down along her cheek and finally stopped beside her fragile neck. His voice dropped low.
"On a night when the hero has already fallen, who do you think is going to save you?"
"As long as Kurosaki-kun is okay… that's really wonderful…"
Feeling the unfamiliar touch on her face and the leg-weakening pressure radiating from his body, Inoue Orihime's body trembled uncontrollably. Still, she forced herself not to dodge away.
Her eyes were closed as she silently rejoiced in her heart that her most important companion was safe.
However, after a few seconds, that joy of surviving a disaster gradually cooled. The girl's nerves, sometimes slow, sometimes unnervingly sharp, finally caught onto what felt wrong about those words.
"Wait… huh? M-Mr. Rosse!"
She suddenly opened her eyes. Her brown eyes were filled with pure confusion.
"You just said someone would save me. Does that mean… that for what happened this time, I'm going to be punished too?"
Though her friends often joked that she was always half a beat slow, even a bit silly, at moments that concerned her own fate, she believed she was actually pretty quick-witted.
"That's only natural."
The corner of Rosse's mouth curled into a wicked smile. His finger lightly scraped across Inoue Orihime's perky nose, as if teasing a clueless little pet that didn't know when to fear.
"Your good companion caused quite a stir tonight. Not only did he attempt to attack a captain, he even drew out that woman who destroyed half of Seireitei. In other words, all of Seireitei's losses tonight are going to be pinned on his head."
Watching the girl's mouth slowly fall open, Rosse continued in a perfectly serious tone.
"Now that the main culprit has escaped, this heavy burden of guilt can only be borne by you, his accomplice who was captured. If you want to blame someone, blame the companion who abandoned you and ran away."
"How can this be Kurosaki-kun's fault?"
Inoue Orihime protested instinctively. Then her gaze turned unusually firm, without a shred of hesitation.
"If that's the case, then let me take responsibility! As long as Kurosaki-kun is safe, as long as you don't pursue him anymore, I'm willing to accept any punishment!"
In her simple worldview, Ichigo being safe was the greatest victory.
As for herself, she was already caught anyway. How much worse could it get?
Besides, that Uncle Kyoraku who seemed like a nice person had said before that although Soul Reapers had many rules, they usually wouldn't really do anything to girls.
"Eh?"
The girl's naive thoughts were abruptly cut off in the very next second.
She felt Rosse's broad hand suddenly leave her cheek, then come down with an irresistible force, pressing heavily on the top of her head.
It was an absolute power she could not resist.
Guided by that force, Inoue Orihime's legs went weak. Before she could even react to what was happening, her entire body obediently and blankly knelt back down onto the soft tatami.
Her line of sight was forced downward, and an unknown fear mixed with shame instantly wrapped around her.
"Oh," Rosse spoke coldly.
"Ah?"
Inoue Orihime was at a loss, but before she could think it through—
"Mm!"
The moonlight was covered by dark clouds. The long night of atonement for this innocent big rabbit had only just begun.
———
That same night, deep within Rukongai, outside a secluded house—
The moonlight was a ghastly white. The air here was still filled with that suffocating sense of oppression.
"Who are you?"
Yoruichi Shihoin crouched low, like a black cat with its fur standing on end. Her golden eyes locked tightly onto the woman who had appeared out of nowhere. Every muscle in her body tensed to the extreme.
Although she hadn't been at the main battlefield earlier, the terrifying spiritual pressure of Kurosaki Masaki, as if it could crush heaven and earth alike, was something she could clearly sense even from the Shiba household across half of Rukongai. It was despair incarnate.
The spiritual pressure of the woman before her was absolutely the strongest she had ever encountered in her life, surpassing every Soul Reaper she knew.
And now, this woman had appeared here without making a sound. Inside the house lay Kurosaki Ichigo, unharmed yet unconscious.
Although she had brought Ichigo back safely, at this moment, Yoruichi didn't dare to rashly decide whether this woman was friend or foe.
"My name is Kurosaki Masaki."
The woman spoke. Her voice was calm like still water, yet carried a coldness that kept others at a distance.
"You're Kurosaki Masaki?"
Yoruichi sucked in a sharp breath, shock filling her eyes beyond measure.
Although she had been lurking in the Human World for many years and had even met that unreliable-looking Kurosaki Isshin, as for this woman, she truly had only heard the name and never seen the person.
'But… how is this possible?'
Yoruichi studied the tall, mature woman before her, whose entire body radiated astonishing charm and danger, and questioned uncertainly,
"Weren't you taken away by people from Hueco Mundo many years ago? Why are you in Soul Society now, and why do you possess such power?"
"I am now from Hueco Mundo… the Eighth Espada."
Kurosaki Masaki didn't explain much, only calmly stating her current identity.
Then, her icy eyes swept back and forth over Yoruichi without any restraint. Her gaze was sharp as a blade, as if it wanted to pierce through the tight combat suit and see straight into her soul.
Suddenly, her nostrils twitched slightly. An extremely strange smile curved at the corner of her mouth.
"You carry that man's scent. It's very strong. So strong it's nauseating."
"Huh? You, what are you talking about?"
Yoruichi's heart shook violently. Her eyes immediately began to dart about, revealing a trace of guilt and panic she had never shown before.
What had happened that afternoon in that room was something she didn't want to recall for the time being, and absolutely could not let a fourth person know.
Those humiliations, those pleasures, those unspeakable scenes, they were still vivid in her mind even now.
She didn't know why Kurosaki Masaki suddenly brought up that man, but the feeling of having her private matters exposed face to face made her deeply uncomfortable.
"That's my private business. It has nothing to do with you, does it?", she retorted, forcing herself to keep her composure.
"Heh, private business?"
Kurosaki Masaki didn't get angry. Instead, she smiled with clear amusement, that smile carrying three parts pity and seven parts mockery.
"Take care of yourself. Good luck to you."
Before the words had even fallen, Kurosaki Masaki's figure suddenly blurred.
Whoosh!
It was a movement technique even more advanced than Shunpo.
In the blink of an eye, she vanished without a trace, leaving behind only those words drifting in the wind, lingering in Yoruichi's ears like a curse.
———
In the night breeze, Kurosaki Masaki's figure moved through the silent streets, her eyes filled with a complex look.
On Yoruichi Shihoin, she had smelled the same scent.
The scent of someone who had been deeply violated by that man, marked as his possession.
It was the scent of the same kind.
"So in that bastard's eyes, this woman, just like me, can only be considered a rather interesting high-end toy."
Kurosaki Masaki thought bitterly, a complicated, shadowy glint flashing in her eyes.
'As for that little girl who was caught today, her name seemed to be Inoue Orihime.'
'At this very moment, she is probably suffering, isn't she?'
'But in Rosse's eyes, that human girl probably doesn't even count as a toy. At most, she is just a disposable item used to pass the time.'
'Played with a few times, and once she is broken or he got bored, she will likely be tossed away like trash.'
"Really enviable…"
Kurosaki Masaki raised her head to look at the waning moon, a bleak curve tugging at the corner of her mouth.
From the bottom of her heart, she envied that girl who might be thrown away.
Because for a collectible like her, branded with a permanent mark, being thrown away by Rosse would be a kind of release.
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