It’s White Day, which means Kew’s back at it with the arts and crafts! Unfortunately, the cardboard scraps he has leftover from the last ‘present’ he made aren’t enough for a large sign, so he’d have to get more creative.
This monstrosity awaits Rukia in her office, sitting in the chair at her desk. It’s a large garbage bag, painted pink and filled with leaves, with the knot at the top serving as ears. The paint doesn’t stick to the bag perfectly, falling off in some places. (There’s probably a trail of small paint-chips leading from Kew’s room to Rukia’s office.) Pieces of cardboard are taped on the sides for arms, with one ‘holding’ a piece of paper: “Happy White Day" it reads, in broken and badly-written characters. It looked to be the work of someone copying the words from multiple sources, with no real understanding of what he was writing. Not surprising, given its writer.
3 times as valuable as Rukia’s clay chappy? Absolutely not. Still cute? Well… Kew certainly hoped so. But just in case, on the back of that piece of paper is another sample of shoddy writing: “I’m sorry”
Rukia certainly wasn’t expecting anything, seemingly forgetful of the holiday. But when she observes small flakes of pink trailing in her work place, she knows something is up. With a raised brow she opens the door but her gaze follows the track leading the object that preoccupies her seat rather than going right to where she would work.
And it leads her to an item that is enough to earn a loud, fascinated, surprised and gleeful “Ooh!” and a drop of her papers. For a moment it seems like a sudden breeze pushes her back, but it is only the delight she feels rushing through to her feet. Even if she is alone, she can’t help but gasp when her eyes catch those precious pointed ears. She approaches with careful feet and risen hesitant hands, uncertain if it is real or if she should be graced enough to touch it, moving her feet closer in a mix between a zombie and a nervous teenager. Those small round eyes and pads of paws are things that can’t stop her from reaching out, before she stops them midway and pulls them back, only because she mustn’t embrace it so weakly.
To have captured Chappy’s character perfectly– it would be an understatement to say that she’s impressed, no matter the medium. “H-He’s so cute!“ Her cheeks light up with a blush, not being able to resist the need to bring her gift into her arms, but her hold is gentle, light as the leaves held within. Even still, there are small bits of scaly paint that attach itself to her, standing out most vibrantly in her dark hair and black uniform. And although it is not quite as soft and cuddly as her small plushies, far more blocky and like a terrible makeshift pillow, she was all about the aesthetic before the touch.
It is only a good swing left and right within her hug that her ears even hear the breeze of paper, flapping in the wind and breaking her out of her delightful break of reality. Once more her curiosity takes hold of her, strong enough to have her place the gift down and take a second to glance over the sheet, but she remains unaware of the other side holding other information. The text is makeoutable enough for Rukia, reminiscent of the earliest days of her writing, and it’s a clear enough hint of the sender. It was a good fun gesture, one that leaves a little butterfly in her stomach, a different joy than the one she gets from Chappy but a special one even still. It leaves her to wonder why did no one have the nerve to look her in the eye when they dropped off gifts? ...Is she that hard to catch? Maybe they wanted her to be the one who had to seek them out. There was that trail of pink just outside her office-- maybe that was part of the game and there was yet even more to be seen? For now, she would place her present just by her desk at least for the rest of the day. She would eventually find a better spot for it, but for today, she would allow it to grace any who entered her office, including herself, before she would depart her office and follow the trail like a baited creature.
