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They stood in the middle of a dimly lit downtown street — unusually empty for this time of night — dressed up and buzzing lightly with anticipation.
Yuzu shifted excitedly, her eyes sparkling, while Karin clenched her jaw in quiet irritation.
It had taken considerable effort to drag her out of their cozy apartment—a post-exam sanctuary she’d happily chosen to hide in after surviving her final med academy test two days prior.
"You kidding me, right?" Yuzu practically whined, clearly offended by her twin's distinct lack of enthusiasm. "We have to celebrate! And what better night than the festival — with our friends!"
Karin grumbled under her breath, but as usual, eventually gave in. When Yuzu set her mind on something, she got it.
Mentally adding “yell at soft-hearted Jinta” to her to-do list — for spoiling her little sister rotten—Karin impatiently brushed aside the strand of hair persistently clinging to her face. The autumn wind tousled her bangs playfully and tried crawling up the hem of her dress—far too short for her liking—which only deepened her foul mood.
"Any luck figuring out where we're supposed to be?" Karin turned to her sister, swatting the rebellious hair with the back of her hand.
Yuzu pursed her lips to one side, tapping thoughtfully at her phone screen and turning it around as if rotating the device might help clarify their location.
"Still working on it," she muttered distractedly, clearly struggling to determine the direction they were supposed to go to meet the rest of their group.
Yuzu looked up at Karin, who had just clicked her tongue in irritation — but didn’t say anything. She just tilted her head slightly, barely holding back a laugh.
"You smudged your lipstick," Yuzu offered instead, one hand pinning down the fluttering hem of her skirt — made of some gauzy, impossible-to-control fabric.
"Huh? What—?" Karin frowned, hastily opening the front-facing camera on the phone. Sure enough, the moment she raised it, she caught sight of a reddish smear bloomed across the back of her hand.
She cursed silently—at the weather, at the unfamiliar lipstick Yuzu had lent her, and at the whole annoying plan in general—then forced herself to inhale deeply.
She had promised to behave. After a lot of begging, she’d given her word.
A cozy blanket and a brand-new, overpriced console game were waiting at home—a self-promised reward for enduring finals—but surely she could survive a few more hours. Maybe.
The only thing Yuzu had reluctantly agreed to was showing up early, hoping to dodge the worst of the festival crowd that usually surged closer to midnight. Unfortunately, that also meant fewer people around now to ask for directions.
Karin irritably tucked her stubborn bangs behind her ears, squinting into the phone camera’s dim reflection—useless. The fading evening light blurred out all the colors.
And, to be fair, the phone was probably long overdue for an upgrade.
“Damn it,” she muttered, turning toward the faint glow of the streetlamp, practically the alley’s sole source of illumination.
The curse pulled Yuzu from her losing battle with the glitchy compass in her map app. She let out a soft giggle as she glanced over at her sister.
“Come here,” she said — though she ended up moving closer herself. “Let me fix it.”
Yuzu reached up and gently wiped the smudged corner of Karin’s mouth with the tip of her finger, casually invading her personal space with a quiet assertiveness only siblings could master.
“There you go,” she said, sounding pleased—until she paused, brow furrowing slightly.
“What now?” Karin asked flatly.
“Now your lipstick’s uneven,” Yuzu sighed. “Let me redo it.”
“Absolutely not!” Karin recoiled dramatically, as though dodging an incoming threat. “You’re gonna give me those ridiculous duck lips again!”
“That’s how models wear it!”
“That’s exactly my point!”
Karin rummaged through her bag for the lipstick while glancing around. There had to be something around here she could use as a mirror. But of course, all the shopfronts were dark — early closures thanks to the festival.
“That car window might work,” Yuzu offered, already back to fiddling uselessly with her phone.
Karin muttered something less-than-kind under her breath, mentally vowing to take over directions the second her lipstick situation was resolved. Pride was pride, sure — but at this rate, they’d both freeze solid in the autumn wind.
And seriously, why was this alley so damned cold?
Turns out, the car idea wasn’t half bad.
There it was—parked squarely beneath the only functioning streetlamp, its tinted windows reflecting just enough light to serve as a near-perfect mirror.
Except there was one tiny issue:
It was a police car.
Karin mentioned this small detail to Yuzu, who, predictably, was entirely unconcerned.
"Or did you plan on breaking in to use the passenger mirror?" Yuzu beamed, overly amused at her own joke.
Karin shot her a sharp look — one of those "I swear to God" looks — which only made Yuzu giggle again. With a huff and a deliberate pivot on the heel of her fall boots, she marched toward the vehicle.
Much to her irritation, Yuzu’s idea turned out to be annoyingly solid — and surprisingly well thoughtful for someone who, for the last five minutes, hadn’t been able to figure out which way was north.
The dark glass reflected her face clearly enough, confirming that her lipstick indeed now sat blotchy and uneven.
Sighing deeply, Karin quickly reapplied the top layer, attempting to fix it, before cautiously correcting the bottom lip—which somehow always ended up looking worse.
No exception this time.
With a frustrated sigh at her clumsy attempt, she carefully smoothed the corners using her fingertip, deliberately reshaping the edge. Absently, she ran her tongue along her bottom lip—a habit she found herself doing far too often.
The reflection in the warm glow of the streetlamp revealed that her collar had shifted slightly. Karin tugged it gently back into place, watching the soft light trace along her neck as she tilted her head, briefly exposing the delicate curve of skin beneath.
Maybe Yuzu was right, and she really should’ve worn those earrings after all.
Pressing her lips together once—then again—to blend the layers, she suddenly froze.
The window was rolling down. Inch by agonizing inch.
Slowly, her reflection vanished, replaced instead by an entirely different face staring back—wide-eyed, stunned, with eyes in a shade so vivid it hardly seemed natural.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other in shocked silence.
"Oh. Hi," Karin finally regained her composure, offering a quick, forced smile in an attempt to mask her embarrassment.
She’d been so sure the car was empty.
The man swallowed hard, now clearly more alert as he took in her presence. He gave a brief nod but remained silent.
“Well, I’m sorry,” Karin said, fumbling to shove the stupid lipstick back into her bag. “I didn’t mean to bother you—I thought the car was empty.”
The man—in full uniform—still said nothing. He simply sat there, eyes locked onto her face as if he'd forgotten how to blink. His breath hitched quietly—a brief intake through his nose—and his mouth parted slightly.
A second nod followed, slower this time, almost mechanical, as though his brain was still processing the moment. His gaze remained steady—unmoving, but somehow deeply intense.
“Okay-dokey,” Karin muttered, instantly cringing at herself. Seriously? She never used that phrase. What the hell was wrong with her tonight? “I should probably just—go. Have a nice evening, offic—”
“Wait!”
A sudden voice—female, calm, and entirely unexpected — cut her off mid-retreat.
Karin tilted her head slightly, peering past the man in the passenger seat. There she was: a striking strawberry-blond woman, seated in the driver's seat, now leaning slightly forward as well to get a better look at her.
“Yeah?” Karin asked cautiously, suddenly wondering if applying lipstick using a police car window counted as a misdemeanor.
The woman smiled—a broad, sly expression that immediately made Karin tense. When law enforcement smiled like that, trouble usually followed.
“You and your friend need some help?” the blond asked, nodding toward the sidewalk behind Karin, where Yuzu was probably still glued to her phone. “Lost?”
That made Karin exhale, her shoulders loosening just a bit.
“Oh, um... yeah. Maybe a little,” she admitted awkwardly.
The woman’s wolfish grin grew even wider.
“Tsk, tsk! That won't do!” she chirped cheerfully. “It's our solemn duty as protectors of the peace to assist citizens in distress!”
With an exaggerated toss of her glossy hair, she turned to the man beside her. “Captain — would you be so kind as to escort the ladies?”
That line seemed to snap the man out of his daze. He jolted upright in his seat and finally, finally stopped staring at Karin.
“The hell, Matsumoto?!” the man nearly growled, choking on his words.
Kurosaki pressed her lips into a line to hold back a laugh and leaned down a bit more to get a better view inside the car.
“Where were you headed?” the blond asked smoothly, keeping her expression entirely professional and ignoring the rising indignation beside her.
“Um…” Karin squinted, tilting her head slightly as she tried to remember the name of the damn club. “Rukongai, I think?”
The woman’s face lit up.
“Oh, that’s not too far!” she said brightly. “But a few alleys and turns — easy to get lost.” She turned toward her partner. “Captain!”
He looked like she'd slapped him.
“You take them,” he snapped, finally dragging his eyes off the girls and fixing his gaze on the windshield. A few snowy-white strands fell into his face, and he brushed them back with an irritated flick.
“Me? I can’t,” Matsumoto huffed, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. “I’m on patrol!”
“Don’t start with me,” the man growled again, shooting her a glare. “I’m the one who assigned you here!”
She arched a brow, all faux innocence.
“And Kyoraku assigned every lieutenant to vehicle duty tonight,” she replied sweetly. “Leaving the car’s not in my orders.”
The captain crossed his arms and leaned back in the seat, exhaling like he’d just aged five years.
“Funny how that rule didn’t apply when you ran off for a donut an hour ago,” he muttered.
Kurosaki watched the scene unfold, doing her best not to burst out laughing. How had fixing her lipstick in a police car window somehow spiraled into this? She had no idea—but it was easily the most entertaining thing that had happened in the past 24 hours.
“Karin?”
Her sister’s soft voice came from behind her shoulder — Yuzu still hadn’t moved from her spot. She gave Karin a worried look, and that alone was enough to poke a little guilt into her chest. She was probably getting anxious.
“You know what, maybe I should just—”
Karin turned back toward the car, but didn’t finish her sentence.
The passenger door swung open before she could.
A hand — unmistakably a woman’s — gave her captain a firm shove out of the vehicle and then shut the door behind him.
Karin blinked, still trying to catch up, before finally looking at the man now standing beside her.
His white hair was a tousled mess, and his dark navy uniform—almost black under the streetlamp—was weighed down with gear: tactical vest, holstered pistol, taser-baton combo, and a silver star patch gleaming on his shoulder.
Karin didn’t know much about ranks, but “Captain” seemed like a safe bet.
Wasn’t he a little young for that kind of rank, though? Looked barely older than her. And the uniform color felt off too—darker than expected. Then again, maybe that was just the lighting.
He cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded toward the alley, where Yuzu was still waiting, eyes wide like a startled deer.
“Shall we?” he asked.
Karin could only nod—somehow stiffly.
“Uh... thanks for, you know... volunteering?” she offered, glancing up at him as they walked. “But honestly, you could’ve just pointed us in the right direction. We’d figure it out. You don’t have to—”
“Too late,” he said dryly, rolling his eyes. “Now I need the fresh air.”
Karin nearly laughed out loud.
Once they caught up to Yuzu, she quickly filled her in, and her sister gave a polite bow before deliberately falling a few steps behind them.
The officer led the way, and a quiet, slightly awkward silence settled between the three of them.
Karin didn’t last long. Her mind, left unsupervised, began spiraling into the weirdest places—until she let out a quiet snort.
The man glanced sideways, one brow raised.
“What’s funny?” he asked after a pause.
Karin hesitated for a second, weighing whether to say it… and then decided, why not?
“This whole setup,” she said, gesturing to his vest and all the gear strapped to him. “Pretty sure this is exactly the kind of escort our big brother would dream of for us—like, when we go out at night. You know, in his ideal world.”
She glanced up at his face—sharp, unreadable—and briefly panicked that she’d gone too far.
Then she saw it.
The faintest twitch of a smile tugged at the corner of his dry lips before he managed to rein it in.
Relief washed over her. Whew.
“I get it,” he said eventually, his gaze still fixed ahead.
His heavy boots crunched over scattered bits of loose gravel — probably blown in from nearby flower beds by the wind. He had to consciously slow his pace to match theirs. Two girls in heels weren’t exactly built for patrol speed.
“Hm?” Karin nudged the silence. “You got younger sisters too?”
His gaze didn’t shift.
“Older,” he said quietly, stepping aside to let a passerby through. “Just one. Still not much easier.”
Karin grinned—wider this time—and let her gaze linger a second too long on the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones.
Honestly, walking around with a face like that should be illegal.
A larger patch of gravel shifted under her step, and she stumbled, arms flailing slightly as she caught herself just in time.
She could already feel Yuzu's smirk burning into the back of her head.
As she steadied herself, she realized — a gloved hand was holding her by the elbow.
“You okay?” the officer asked, those insane turquoise eyes locked on hers.
Well, she had been — up until now.
Karin nodded, and he slowly let go of her arm.
“Be careful,” he added, voice gentler this time. Still looking at her. “Wind’s wild today.”
“Uh-huh.”
It was all she could manage. Her legs weren’t exactly steady as she followed after him.
The conversation fizzled out again.
Karin’s heart was beating way too fast — thudding against her ribs in a way that made it hard to think, let alone talk.
Come on. Say something. Anything.
Before she could, the officer beat her to it — though her relief was short-lived.
“There’s your club,” he said.
Karin’s eyes found the glowing sign ahead — and immediately fell.
That fast? Seriously? Damn it.
He stopped just in front of her, falling silent again. She pressed her lips together in quiet frustration.
“There you are!”
Their friends’ voices rang out from nearby as Yuzu trotted up to them, immediately accepting familiar kisses on both cheeks.
“Um,” Karin started, trying to pull herself together. “Thanks for walking us.”
He nodded, eyes locked on her — steady, unreadable.
Under that look, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly unable to stand still.
“Have fun — and stay out of trouble,” he said, voice low and rough. “Karin, right?”
She bit her lip — caught off guard by how her name sounded in his mouth.
“Yeah,” she managed awkwardly. “How’d you—?”
And then he finished her off.
A small smile tugged at his lips. “Your sister said your name.”
Karin swallowed hard, fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress.
“You’re... observant,” she muttered, already regretting how dumb it sounded.
At that, he snorted — actually snorted — and her eyes widened in disbelief.
“They say it’s a job requirement,” he said, dry amusement in his tone.
She had no idea what to say to that. Or how to recover.
“Hey, Karin, you coming or what?”
Hiyori’s voice—impatient as always—cut through the air, immediately followed by a sharp elbow from Yuzu, who clearly wasn’t thrilled with the interruption.
The man in front of her straightened, shifting with an ease so practiced, it had to be second nature by now.
“Well, have a good night,” he said, inclining his head ever so slightly — with such stupidly gentlemanly manners it completely caught her off guard. “Be safe.”
He glanced at her once more in parting, turned on his heel — another soldier move, apparently — and then he walked off without another word.
“Thanks! You too!” Karin finally managed to call after him, wincing at how lame it sounded.
And just like that, he was gone —and only then, with a sinking feeling, did she realize she hadn’t even asked his name.
***
“She can’t be grumpy all night,” Hiyori scolded. “That’s not how parties work! We’re celebrating, for God’s sake, woman!”
“Oh, would you shut up already,” Karin groaned, slumping deeper into the couch.
This circus had been going on for four hours straight — first the congratulations on passing her finals, then the endless nagging that she was too sad, too tired, too moody… pick your insult.
“She just wanted to spend the evening in someone else’s company,” Hina chirped, clasping her hands together and staring dreamily at the ceiling.
Karin clicked her tongue in irritation and took a long sip from her cocktail.
“Can’t really blame her,” Haruka shrugged. “Those special ops guys? Whew. Total fire.”
That killed the conversation dead — like thunder cracking through a clear sky.
“What?” Yuzu exclaimed, whipping her head around to stare at Karin, eyes wide.
“Special ops what now?” Karin finally managed, not even bothering to collect her jaw from the floor.
Haruka shot them all an annoyed look. One by one. Like a teacher with failing students.
“Seriously? None of you know the first damn thing about how public safety works in this country?” she asked, voice flat with disbelief.
Hina's straw made a loud slurp against the bottom of her glass and Hiyori blinked slowly, only to drop her head back with a dramatic groan.
“Okey, alright—we get it, officer rulebook,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “Now speak like a normal person.”
“Oh, right! Your dad’s, like, in the police, isn’t he?” Hina added sweetly, batting her long lashes.
“Not just 'in the police', okay? My dad’s in Special Investigations,” Haruka snapped. “And that guy you were ogling? He’s SAT. Special Assault Team. Hostage rescues, counter-terror ops — real-deal elite. Total badasses.”
Karin could literally hear Yuzu gasp beside her.
“No way!” Hina chimed in, wide-eyed. Then she hesitated. “Wait—so why was he here, then? Are there terrorists around or something?”
Hiyori and Haruka exchanged a look of pure exhaustion.
“They’re brought in as backup during big events,” Haruka explained. “At least the junior officers.”
“He was a Captain!” Karin blurted out before her brain caught up.
The whole table erupted into grins and barely-contained giggles.
Oh no.
“Sure he was,” Hiyori drawled, smirking. "That uniform really did a number on you, huh?"
Karin leaned back against the couch, rolling her eyes in frustration. She felt kind of crappy. This whole night was supposed to be a celebration — her celebration — and she’d spent most of it sulking and spiraling. All because she didn’t have the guts to ask for a name.
Like that would’ve changed anything.
She let out a tired sigh and downed the rest of her cocktail in two big gulps.
Yuzu gave her a worried glance.
“You okay?” her sister asked, leaning in closer.
Karin nodded.
“Yeah. But I think I’m gonna head home,” she said, adjusting the strap of her bag. Four hours felt like more than enough — she’d shown up, stayed long enough, smiled when it counted. Her conscience was clear.
Yuzu looked at her with that annoyingly understanding smile of hers and nodded.
“We’re heading out, girls,” she announced, pursing her lips a little when the table let out a chorus of disappointed groans. “I’m tired. And I should probably slow down on the cocktails. Time for bed!”
Karin let out a soft snort and shot her sister a grateful look.
Of course, Hiyori wasn’t buying that excuse for a second — and Karin just knew she’d have to listen to her grumble about it like a disapproving grandma sometime later.
The street greeted them with the same annoying wind — though thanks to the cocktails still buzzing in her system, it didn’t bite quite as hard.
Their walk back to the subway twisted through the same alleys they’d taken earlier, but this time, the route felt more crowded — more irritating. The city had filled up fast; people were everywhere now, celebrating hard.
Apparently, they’d stayed longer than planned.
“Did you have a good time?” Yuzu asked, trying to spark a conversation as she watched her sister aim a lazy kick at a random chunk of gravel, dodging passersby without missing a beat. Years on the school team — and the occasional kickabout with the uni girls — had left her legs on autopilot.
“Oh yeah. Best night ever,” Karin muttered with a crooked grin, trying to pull off a rabona in heeled boots — and nearly face-planting in the process.
“Careful!” Yuzu squeaked beside her, even though she’d seen that exact trick about a million times.
Karin just laughed, flashed her a mischievous smile, and stuck out her tongue before sending the rock skittering farther down the road.
“You’ve got skills,” said a voice — male, amused, and unfamiliar.
Karin froze.
Up ahead, in the mouth of an alley, stood two guys about their age. One of them had caught her makeshift soccer ball under his boot.
“Thanks,” Karin replied coolly, eyeing him. Tall, dark-haired, athletic. The second one looked almost identical in build, but with a different face. Close friends, not brothers — she decided immediately.
“Where you headed?” the first one asked, crooked smile wide as he sent the rock rolling back toward her.
It was a terrible pass. Didn’t even make it halfway.
“Yikes,” the guy laughed. “Okay, okay, that one was on me. So? Where to?”
Yuzu peeked out from behind her sister’s shoulder with a gentle smile — while Karin instinctively stepped in front of her, shielding her without thinking.
“We’re just heading home,” Yuzu’s voice was calm, nodding toward the subway a few alleys down.
That answer, apparently, didn’t sit well with the guys.
“What? Come on, really? The night’s just getting started!” the taller one exclaimed — clearly the louder, bolder of the two.
“Come party with us!” the other chimed in, eager to follow his friend’s lead.
Karin shot them a flat look and took Yuzu’s hand.
“No thanks. We’re going home,” she said curtly, tugging her sister along as they curved wide to pass them.
“Oh, come on — who goes home this early?”
The louder guy moved fast, cutting them off before they could pass — stepping squarely into their path.
“We do,” Karin said darkly, fully positioning herself between him and Yuzu now. “Move.”
“Nuh-uh,” the boy hummed, shaking his head playfully. He leaned in, still beaming like an idiot. “I’m telling you — come on, just hang out with us!”
“You deaf or just stupid?” Karin snapped, not backing off an inch. “We’re going. Home.”
That smile changed. It didn’t disappear — just twisted. The edges still curled upward, but everything else about it went cold and wrong.
“Aaah,” he drawled, his tone suddenly syrupy. “Now I get it. We’re going home with you.”
Karin flinched, just slightly — unintentional, but visible. Behind her, Yuzu gripped the back of her jacket with both hands.
Kurosaki stepped forward—deliberate, controlled—pushing into his personal space.
“Sure,” she said, voice low and sharp — right in his face. “If you wanna get there in pieces.”
He froze for half a second—then burst out laughing, loud and sudden, throwing his head back like she’d told the joke of the year.
Still with cocky smile, he wheezed out, wiping imaginary tears from the corners of his eyes with one finger. “You’re funny!” he said, way too pleased with himself. “Yeah, yeah — let’s go party. We’ll see what happens.”
And then, without warning, he grabbed her arm and yanked her toward him.
Karin stumbled, but stayed on her feet — solid. Her elbow was bent between them now, locked in his grip, his fingers tight around her forearm.
“Haru,” his friend said nervously, glancing down the alley. “Come on, man. Cut it out.”
Kurosaki yanked her arm back — nothing. His grip just clamped down harder.
“Let go,” she barked, mind racing — two of them, her sister behind her, and the alcohol dulling her edge.
Her pulse jumped. Not good. Not good at all.
“Dude,” the friend said again, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “What the hell are you doing? We need to go. Now!”
But the guy's smile widened, flashing a full set of teeth and he tugged harder.
That was it.
Karin stopped resisting — and used the pull, stepping into it, driving her left fist straight into his solar plexus.
The guy choked on air, folding in on himself like a collapsing chair. His mouth opened, useless and twitching—like a gasping fish.
Karin couldn’t help it — a smirk tugged at her mouth. Thanks, Ichigo. Guess all those hook drills hadn’t been for nothing.
“Dude!” his friend yelped, staring as Haru sank to the ground—and then, to her surprise, started shuffling backward toward the alley’s exit.
“What’s going on here?”
The voice came from behind her — low, rough, and in control. Chills broke out along her spine.
Karin whipped around, already knowing who it was — that same impossible turquoise gaze locked onto hers. For the second time tonight.
The captain looked composed — but alert. His eyes scanned the scene, cutting through it like a blade, and she remembered what Haruka had said.
Special ops. And judging by his rank at his age, not just any special ops.
“Oh—hi!” she blurted, still shaken from his sudden appearance. Hopefully her face wasn’t doing something stupid.
The white-haired man let out a low, amused huff at her reaction—and she flushed instantly.
“You little bitch,” the brunette finally wheezed, catching his breath. His friend was already long gone, vanished down the alley.
The guy pushed himself to his feet, clearly about to take swing at Karin —but the sharp-eyed officer behind her, still watching like a loaded gun, killed that idea on sight.
Muttering curses under his breath and brushing off his knees, the guy finally turned and limped off, clutching his side.
Karin exhaled, gave her head a quick shake, and tried to wrestle the corners of her mouth back into submission.
“You’re not gonna arrest him?” she asked, adrenaline still buzzing in her veins as she tilted her head toward the alley where the guy had disappeared.
She glanced past him — the familiar patrol car parked just nearby.
“I could,” the man said, stepping in front of her. “But in that case…” — he glanced over at Karin — “I’d have to arrest you too.”
Then, with the faintest hint of a smirk, he added, “nice hook, by the way.”
“Thanks.” She smiled — wide, helpless — then immediately shook her head, trying to get a grip.
Damn alcohol.
And adrenaline.
And those stupid unreal eyes.
Ugh.
“Wait, you’d arrest me? For what?” she snapped, briefly startled.
“I didn’t see the whole thing,” he said, just a touch too casually. “Just the end. And I clearly saw you throw the first punch.”
Karin thought she caught a hint of color rise in his cheeks. Wishful thinking, probably.
“If we go by the book…” He shrugged. “We gather statements. Check footage. Interview witnesses. Eventually, it gets sorted out.”
He paused. “But—”
“You’d be spending the night with me—down at the station, obviously. Filling out a mountain of paperwork.”
Karin wrinkled her nose, trying to ignore the way his phrasing sent her brain into a weird kind of limbo. And suddenly realizing — disturbingly so — that the idea didn’t sound all that bad.
Yuzu tugged at her sleeve — small, tentative.
Oh, damn. She’d completely forgotten about her sister in the middle of all that.
“Yu, you okay?” Karin asked, her voice laced with concern as she placed both hands on her twin's shoulders and searched her face.
The younger Kurosaki looked shaken, but at least no tear streaks marked her cheeks — a small win, all things considered.
“Well—yeah,” Yuzu blinked a few times, still pulling herself together. “But seriously… sometimes you’re even worse than Ichigo. Did you have to punch him?” she asked, voice small and a little whiny.
“I don’t think ‘no’ was an option with that guy,” Karin muttered, brushing a strand of hair from Yuzu’s face with a tired smirk.
“Maybe,” her sister sighed. “But what if he hadn’t backed off? What if no one had come?”
Karin grinned wide, lifting a brow with a playful spark. “You think I would’ve lost?” she said, nudging her lightly in the shoulder, mock-challenging.
Yuzu finally cracked a smile, her posture easing.
“No, no,” she laughed, waving her off with a roll of her eyes. “Of course not. But now I just want to go home. Can we?”
Karin nodded, glad the oldest trick in her book still worked on her sister.
“I’ll walk you to the station,” came a voice from behind — the officer, speaking for the first time since the whole mess had ended.
Karin turned, brows lifting slightly, cheeks warming a little too fast in the cold air.
“Don’t you have, like, actual criminals to watch?” she teased with a quirk of her lips.
“Already am.” He waited for her to catch up, then started walking again.
“What—hey!”
Karin huffed and, in an adrenaline-fueled burst, gave his shoulder a light shove like they were old friends.
“I was the victim here, remember?”
He stopped mid-step, and stared at her like she’d just short-circuited his brain.
“That,” he said dryly, giving her a look as his brows drew together, “was assaulting an officer on duty.”
Karin froze in place, completely thrown by his sudden shift in tone — the color drained from her face as she swallowed hard.
Her stomach dropped.
“I—”
But then he cracked, letting out a sharp laugh, and just kept walking like nothing happened.
Karin went still in disbelief as she tried to process the whiplash.
Behind her, Yuzu tried — and failed — to smother a laugh.
“Oi, you!” Karin called out, jogging after him. “You think you’re clever or something?” she huffed. “Huh?”
“Hm. I’ve been told so, yeah,” he replied flatly.
They reached the street, where the patrol car was parked just off to the side. The strawberry-blond woman leaned across from the driver’s seat and flashed them a dramatic double thumbs-up out through the open passenger window.
Karin let out a loud snort that probably echoed across the street.
“Real tight ship you’re running here,” she beamed, eyes glinting with way too much satisfaction.
The captain shot a fierce look — first at her, then at the car.
For some reason, the previously cheerful driver immediately ducked back inside and rolled the window up.
They fell into a steady rhythm, walking side by side while Yuzu lingered a few steps behind.
“Quiet night?” Karin ventured, stealing a glance at man's face as he scanned the street with focused eyes. There were faint shadows under them — he looked tired.
“Mostly.” His gaze drifted up toward the rooftops. “Aside from one exception.”
Karin nearly slapped her own cheeks to cool the burn — they were practically sizzling.
Instead, she hummed in reply, unsure what exactly he meant. The fight? The lipstick? The whole ridiculous way they met?
“Well,” she said, finally mastering the courage and daring to tease him, “It’s not every day you roll down your window and see a girl putting on lipstick, is it?” she finally settled on the version.
Hopefully that one didn’t sound stupid. Too late to take it back now.
His eyes went wide — visibly startled by the comment — before flicking away to the side.
And yep—there it was. A definite flush blooming on his cheeks.
Karin’s grin stretched across her face, tugging mouth so hard it almost cramped.
“I—Ahem.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t roll the window down. That was my lieutenant,” he muttered, sounding annoyed as he rubbed the side of his neck with one hand.
Kurosaki noted the way his arm bent — awkward, restricted. Probably the vest getting in the way.
“That’s hilarious! Oh, I like her,” Karin laughed, bright and full. “A lot.”
The white-haired officer rolled his eyes— but the corner of his mouth twitched up anyway.
“You wouldn’t be the first,” he replied, a little too warmly.
Oh.
That one sentence hit her mid-step — Karin stumbled slightly, nearly losing her footing.
Wait… so they—
“Mm,” she managed, hoping she didn’t sound like spoiled milk. “I didn’t realize you were…”
“Were what?” he asked, turning to glance at her.
Karin hesitated. Her fingers fidgeted — one cold palm rubbed over the other as her brain scrambled for something coherent.
“Well, you know—”
She waved her hand in his general direction, unsure what exactly she was even pointing at.
“Do I?” he asked, one brow lifting.
“Yes?” she bit back—sharper than she meant to. “You two — a thing. Like, together.”
The man practically jolted where he stood, staring at her with those impossible, glacier-blue eyes.
For a second, Karin completely forgot that she’d literally just told herself he was off-limits. Those eyes were not helping—pulling her straight into a blizzard.
“That’s not even remotely funny,” he said, voice sharp with disbelief, and the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Oh,” Karin faltered, trying to keep up. “So you’re not—?”
“Definitely not,” he cut in — crisp.
Somewhere behind them, Yuzu let out the longest, most tragic sigh known to mankind.
“Right. Sorry, I guess?” Karin half-laughed shifting awkwardly and tugging down the hem of her dress.
The captain ran a hand down his face.
“No worries,” he said, eyes still scanning the small clusters of people scattered along the street. Ever the officer. “It’s just... she’s like a sister to me. So yeah, sounded weird.”
Karin hummed in acknowledgment, relief softening every line of her body.
“Got it,” she said with a smile. “So no reason to hate her. That’s good — she seems awfully nice, actually.”
A gust of cold autumn wind swept past, and she pulled her jacket tighter around herself, clinging to what little warmth her dress still offered.
Karin turned to look at him—and found him already staring.
Frozen. Unblinking. His mouth slightly open.
And even after that, as they kept walking, he kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye.
“Well." He cleared his throat ones more. "Glad we cleared that up,” he finally said, finding his voice.
The walk to the station ended almost as suddenly as it had started. To Karin, still half riding the adrenaline high, the whole thing felt like a blur.
And now they were standing on the curb in front of a quiet, two-lane street. Across it, the metro sign glowed — blue, heart-shaped, flickering patiently.
“Here we are,” she announced — as if it wasn’t already painfully obvious.
The officer nodded, turning just enough to face her.
Karin clenched her fists, giving herself a silent shove forward.
Come on, what’s the worst that could happen? If it got awkward, she could always just… turn around and walk away. Or — if things went truly disastrous — throw herself into traffic.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single car in sight.
So they just stood there. The three of them—motionless—watching the little blue pedestrian icon across the light.
No one moved.
The man beside her turned a bit more, opened his mouth like he was about to say something—and closed it again. Nothing came out.
Karin chewed the inside of her cheek. Uselessly. Frozen just the same. At least until her ever-reliable sister jabbed her square between the ribs from behind—hard enough to make Karin hiss.
The man stiffened, face tightening with concern.
“Are you alright?” he asked, leaning in a little — searching her face.
Kurosaki swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded.
“I wanted to ask you something,” she mumbled, eyes fixed somewhere around the toes of her boots.
Should’ve cleaned them before heading out.
“Um. Could you maybe tell me what number to call? If… you know. Some other idiots decide to show up, like today.”
The captain gave her a long look—the crease between his brows deepening as his expression turned serious.
“Of course,” he said. “You want to write it down?”
Karin nodded—a little too quickly—pulling out her phone, thumb hovering over the dial pad.
“Ready?” he asked, stepping a little closer to glance at her screen.
“Nine.”
“Nine. Mhm”
“One,” the man went on, watching her dutifully punch in each number.
She glanced down at her screen, then slowly looked up through her lashes — one brow visibly twitching.
“One,” he finished.
“Wow. You’re a riot.” Karin muttered, stabbing the phone back into her bag with unnecessarily aggressive precision.
She looked away, jaw tight, pretending to be way more interested in the nearest streetlamp.
Honestly, the nerve of this guy.
“Okay, wait,” he cut in, reaching for the front pocket of his vest.
Still mildly offended, Karin watched him pull out a yellow card holder and a tiny pen.
With practiced ease, he slipped out a small rectangle of paper and scribbled something down before holding it out to her.
She narrowed her eyes — clearly suspicious — but took it anyway. Could hardly blame the girl for being skeptical this time.
“This yours?” she asked, raising a brow at the neat, angular numbers beside the typed line:
«For urgent contact only
Official communications subject to record»
The man pressed his lips together in a barely-contained smile and nodded toward the card.
“Flip it over.”
Karin did.
TOKYO METROPOLITAN POLICE DEPARTMENT
SPECIAL ASSAULT TEAM
Captain Hitsugaya Toshiro
Tactical Operations Commander
And another number, email, and some sort of official ID below.
“Toshiro?” Karin asked, glancing up at him.
“That’s me,” he said, exhaling softly.
“The top number's my work line," he added. "The other one’s… personal. So—if you ever end up in another situation like today—hypothetically—call the first. But if you’re curious which charges that left hook of yours technically violated—dial the second.”
“Oh, how convenient,” Kurosaki snorted, smirking as he flushed and looked away.
Karin turned the card over in her hands—first studying the crisp lettering, then the man in front of her.
The pedestrian light blinked blue again.
“You know what?” she asked, smiling slyly. “Give me your pen.”
Toshiro shot her a slightly puzzled look—but handed it over.
Fingers stiff from the cold, Karin wrote her own number right across his card, then shoved it into his gloved hand.
“Huh?” he man muttered, staring down at the rectangle — completely thrown.
“I figured you might need it more,” Karin explained, grinning like a cat.
His snowy-white eyebrow climbed even higher.
“You know, to find me,” she added, all faux-casual.
“I’m… supposed to be looking for you?” he repeated, visibly lost.
“Well, yeah,” Kurosaki said, planting her hands on hips, eyes gleaming with challenge. “In case someone starts terrorizing the neighborhood with their famous left hook—you know what I’m saying?”
He narrowed his eyes slightly, clearly caught off guard, then gave a short snort and burst into a laugh—one she could tell he’d tried to stifle, but failed spectacularly.
Karin’s cheeks burned as she beamed back—aching from how long she'd been smiling like an idiot.
But what a delicious kind of pain it was.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Toshiro said, at last nodding in agreement.
“You’d better,” she replied, feeling bold enough to wink at him before turning back toward the street.
Great.
Red light.
Of course.
Even though there wasn’t a single car on that little road at night.
The conversation had ended on just the right note—and Karin was absolutely not prepared to stand here in awkward silence for another minute, let alone more.
“Yuzu,” she said, reaching out a hand and nodding toward the street.
“What are you doing?” came the instantly disapproving voice from the side.
Karin gave the white-haired man at the curb the most innocent look she could possibly muster.
“What does it look like?” she shot back sweetly. Then glanced both ways one last time and stepped into the crosswalk—dragging along her very best furniture-impersonator of a little sister, who was now quietly giggling behind her hand.
Toshiro crossed his arms, unimpressed by her childish antics. One eyebrow lifting in silent judgment.
“What are you gonna do, Captain?” Karin teased, walking backward into the street. “Call 911?” she added with a wicked grin, elbowing Yuzu in the side as the two of them vanished down the escalator into the subway station.
The moment the wind stopped biting at her face, the heat in Karin’s cheeks roared back full force. She clapped her hands over them.
"Phew, Kami,” she groaned once they dropped onto one of those familiar blue-fabric seats in the half-empty train, grateful it was still running for the holiday.
Her heart was hammering. A cold line of sweat slipped down her spine.
Karin wiped her palms on her thighs, pressed them back to her burning cheeks, and slumped forward.
“You okay?” Yuzu asked beside her, beaming so wide it was borderline obscene.
“No idea,” Kurosaki muttered, eyes squeezed shut against the wave of memory crashing down on her.
Kami, she’d flirted. Like actually flirted—with a guy like that!
And he gave her his number.
Part of her wanted to kick her feet in the air like a girl in a shoujo manga. The other — to fall directly through the train floor and disappear forever.
“Why did you give him his number back?” Yuzu asked, eyebrows high, disapproval written all over her brown eyes.
“Wait—did I?” Karin let out a breath. “Oh no. I did. I totally did! I don’t know, it was instinct! He was being too smug!”
She flipped her hands over — even the backs were burning now.
With no better idea, she grabbed Yuzu’s hands—still resting nearby—and placed them against her cheeks instead, like emergency ice packs.
“Kami, Karin!” her sister squeaked. “You’re hotter than a frying pan!”
“I know,” the Kurosaki groaned, voice muffled by Yuzu’s slipping hands.
She threw one leg over the other, jiggled it restlessly, then stomped it back down with a thud that made a pair of neon-haired passengers a few seats away flinch.
“What do I do now?” Karin asked, turning toward her sister and prying her fingers apart to see her face. “What if he doesn’t text me?”
Yuzu clicked her tongue thoughtfully, then shrugged.
“If he doesn’t,” she said, “it’ll still make a great story. Plus, next time you’ll be smarter and not give a guy’s number back after asking for it first.”
Karin let out an anguished, strangled noise—somewhere between a growl and a whimper—and buried her face in her sister’s hands again.
Roughly three loops of self-pity later, just as the train was slowing into the next station, Karin’s bag buzzed sharply on the seat between them.
Girls froze and stared at it like it had just hissed on them.
“Open it!” Yuzu urged, dragging her twin out of her trance by snatching her hands back and giving Karin a firm shake by the shoulders.
Karin was already shaking. Now Yuzu had her on extra spin cycle.
With trembling fingers, she fished out her phone — nearly dropping it twice — and stared down at the glowing screen.
[Unknown number]: FYI, that little stunt back there? Technically ¥50,000. Or some community service.
Kurosaki read the message a couple of times before its meaning finally sank in.
Yuzu was snickering quietly beside her, hand pressed to her mouth.
“See? And you were worried,” she said, nudging Karin in the side with a grin. “He texted.”
“What if it’s not him?” Karin asked, suspicious, nibbling nervously at her bottom lip.
Yuzu gave her an unimpressed look.
“Who are you and what have you done with my confident sister?” she teased.
“I am confident!” Karin huffed, squaring her shoulders. “I’m just saying—maybe Tokyo’s got new surveillance cameras now. Instant fine alerts or whatever.”
The phone buzzed again in her hand.
[Unknown number]: Dinner tomorrow?
“Right,” Yuzu snorted. “And apparently, they want to feed you, too.”
Karin stared at the screen—the corners of her mouth pulling upward slowly.
“It’s really him?” she asked again, this time with an uncontrollable smile.
“Obviously,” Yuzu said, giving her arm a light pat. “What are you waiting for? Text him back!”
“Oh. Right.”
Karin jolted out of her daze, chewing on her thumb — until Yuzu swatted her hand away with a look.
She typed out a reply, finger hovering uncertainly over the send button… and finally tapped the screen.
[Karin]: Only if it counts as community service
“Oh my—you’re so into him already!” Yuzu squeaked, practically glowing as she hovered over Karin’s shoulder.
The reply came almost instantly.
[Unknown number]: Maybe.
Both girls broke into giggles, like they were back in high school again.
[Unknown number]: I’ll pick you up at 7?
They both blinked, staring at the screen. Karin immediately typed back:
[Karin]: How? You don’t even know where I live.
The phone went quiet. The tunnel connection dipped, and both of them held their breath.
Yuzu—now deeply emotionally invested and possibly already mentally planning the wedding decor—let out a squeaky gasp when the screen lit up again.
[Unknown number]: Oh. Please.