Bleach : I Need To Rizz To Become Stronger ?!-Chapter 54: Tipsy

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Chapter 54 - Tipsy

Inside the izakaya.

After the food and drinks were served, Hinamori's eyes locked onto the sake bottle, then flicked toward Shin. Without waiting, she eagerly picked it up and poured him the first cup.

"What if you get drunk?" Shin teased with a smirk.

"A little bit's fine! I can hold my liquor!" Hinamori declared, slapping her chest.

Shin's gaze flicked downward. His mind flashed briefly to Shiba Kūkaku from earlier that day.

The difference is real...

"And besides," Hinamori added quickly, "even if I do get drunk, I know the President won't leave me hanging."

"How would I help you? We're outside school grounds."

"That's why it's better outside..." she mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing! President, cheers!" Hinamori lifted her cup with a bright smile.

She downed the drink in one go, a soft, satisfied sigh escaping her lips before she quickly poured Shin another.

"President, here's another one! Thanks for always looking after me!"

She raised her glass again.

Shin gave a helpless smile and clinked cups with her. He could tell—she was deliberately trying to get drunk.

Is she...?

He rolled the empty cup between his fingers, an idea forming in the back of his mind.

Hinamori went to pour him more.

"Let's hold off a bit," Shin said. "Didn't you say you were hungry? Eat something first."

But Hinamori wasn't hungry. She came out tonight for the chance to be alone with him.

She ignored his words, lifting her cup again. "President, you've always been the one I admire most. One more drink."

Shin reached over and gently pressed her glass down. "Eat first."

"...President..."

Seeing the calm in his expression, she didn't dare argue. She picked up her chopsticks and began eating quietly, though her heart fluttered from his concern.

But just a few bites later, she picked the cup up again.

"If you get wasted, I'm dumping you in the street," Shin said.

"I don't believe that." Hinamori giggled.

She didn't toast this one—just downed it herself.

The sake was light, but after three straight cups, she began to feel a warm flush spread through her body. Her cheeks bloomed a soft crimson.

Shin continued eating unhurriedly, glancing sidelong as she poured herself another.

"You really like drinking that much?"

Hinamori stared into her cup, watching the ripples shimmer in the amber light. She smiled softly. "Depends on who I'm drinking with."

She raised her cup and gave him a dazzling smile.

"President?"

The clink of glass on glass rang clear. The sake passed her lips, its sweetness twisting to warmth down her throat, igniting a low-burning fire in her chest.

She pressed the back of her hand to her cheek, the coolness soothing like stardust drifting over skin.

She didn't feel drunk yet. The world remained clear. Or maybe it was because his face had been carved into her memory so deeply.

"President... do you like drinking?" she asked.

Shin chuckled. "Depends on who I'm with."

Her cheeks burned hotter. Was it the alcohol? Or just him?

"President... did you know—"

"Know what?"

"Did you know you're actually a really, really great person?"

Shin laughed. "Of course I do."

She giggled. "It's not just you. A lot of people know it."

"A lot of people like you."

"I know."

"Then... do you know who they are?"

"Roughly."

"What about you, President?"

"What about me?"

Her throat tightened. Her gaze didn't waver as she stared at him, bathed in the izakaya's soft glow.

"Do you... do you have someone you like?"

"I do."

Her breath hitched. His face carried a gentle smile, but she couldn't read what it meant.

Surely, he had to know how she felt.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Lots and lots of people."

"..."

Hinamori laughed, light and airy. He was teasing her.

"President..."

She leaned in, palm braced on the table, body tilting forward. Her school uniform shifted, revealing a sliver of pale skin.

"I know who likes you. Want me to tell you?"

Shin's voice was low. "Someone's feelings... should be theirs to express, when they're ready."

That struck her hard. Her chest tightened.

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Was that a hint? She straightened a little, heartbeat racing. Seconds passed. She opened her mouth—

—but Shin casually picked up the bottle and poured her another drink.

"This is your last one. No more after this."

"...President..."

Hinamori stared into her glass. The warm light danced through the sake, shimmering gently.

She looked up again. She didn't feel drunk—not really. Her thoughts still moved clearly.

But what if he doesn't accept me?

What if things become awkward... distant?

What if he just thinks I'm speaking nonsense because of the booze?

Shouldn't I wait... for a better moment...?

The spiral of worries trapped her tongue.

She drank the cup dry without a word.

Shin poured the last for himself, drank it, and said, "Let's finish eating."

"Mm—" She hiccuped. Her cheeks were flushed deep red, like crushed petals.

She wasn't hungry.

She just sat there, eyes fixed on him.

Shin called over the owner and paid.

"Let's go. Time to head back."

"..."

She rose to her feet, only to sway. Her balance betrayed her.

The warm night wind hit her as they stepped outside, the curtain falling behind them.

A dizzy wave crashed over her—but Shin caught her before she could fall.

"Hehe... President..."

"I thought you said you could hold your liquor?"

"I'm not drunk!" she insisted, brushing off his arm and forcing herself to walk straight.

Only to stumble two steps later.

She let out a startled squeak, and again Shin was there, arms catching her.

"P-President..."

"Still acting tough?" he said, amused.

She said nothing. Just leaned closer into him. She'd never felt this close to him before.

His face was right there, inches away.

"President..."

"Mm?"

"Back then... did you... kiss Shinozaki-senpai?"

"No."

"Did you know I was listening?"

"I did."

"And you didn't accept her... right?"

"I didn't."

She tried to lift her head, but her arms clung to him too tightly. Her body, too clumsy. She lost her balance again.

"If... if I were the one to ask...?"

"You already did, didn't you?"

Her eyes blinked slowly, shimmering. With great effort, she tilted her head up—

—and pressed her lips softly against his.

"If it's just... for now... can I ask again?"

She whispered the words.

And he answered her with silence. With motion.

The street was empty. She found herself pressed against a wall, his body against hers. Her fingers curled, nails digging into the fabric of his uniform.

The alcohol in her blood turned molten, spreading heat through every limb. Her world spun, not from sake, but from the way he felt, the way the night closed in around them, the way every star overhead seemed to fall into her chest.

But even in that heat, one thought pierced through:

I haven't confessed yet...