It's a cold, frosty evening when Rukia strolls past the Tenth Division and speaks to their captain for the first time. There is a hefty stack of papers resting on her hip, and she tries to hurry it along but the occasional breath of wind forces her to halt and resettle her charges.
She is saved by Hitsugaya-taichou.
Giving him the other half of paperwork, she offers him her utmost gratitude.
They are very careful on their walk. Their path is only illuminated by the moon and the very many white pinpricks that litter the sky.
She is aware that the moon is always watching after her, is an integral symbol of her soul self, her zanpakuto and shinigami powers.
On nights like these, Rukia feels powerful.
She has never spoken to Hitsugaya-taichou before but feels an odd sort of kinship with him immediately. Here is someone who understands the virtues of silence, something she cannot vouch for in idiots like Renji and Ichigo. It is a valued trait, seen in personalities like Ukitake-taichou and Nii-sama.
But Hitsugaya-taichou is different.
"Are you from Rukongai?" he asks her.
She nods slowly, unsure just where this question has arisen from. He is a younger shinigami. Most likely, he was not yet assigned yet the Gotei Thirteen forty years ago, and so did not hear the scandalous new outbreak concerning the esteemed Kuchiki Byakuya's "mistake."
"From the slums, sir. I was adopted into the Kuchiki family."
"I would never have guessed unless Matsumoto had told me," he tells her, "You carry yourself very much like a noble."
It does not sound like a compliment. Neither does it sound like an insult. So Rukia receives it anyway, as a subordinating officer to her superior.
"And you are an excellent captain, Hitsugaya-taichou. Ukitake-taichou speaks well of you."
Perhaps, she amends; he did mean to insult her. The moon pulls her gaze forward, and she does not look in Hitsugaya-taichou's direction anymore—it saps her energy to peer upon a prodigy.
She is not the only one unaccustomed to her role in Seireitei.
