A/N - My first ByaRuki drabble; I'm used to writing HitsuRuki 3 But I love ByaRuki too. It's been a real long time since I last submitted anything, but after seeing Rukia's haircut I had to write something about it. ;D

It's not a very lovey-dovey drabble, sorry. xD It's more angsty and there's only a little underlying suggestion of stronger feelings. Nonetheless! Enjoy. 3


I never thought he would look at me like that.

Once my hair started growing out, he could hardly look at me without pain in his eyes. Pain, pain, sadness and strife.

I didn't quite understand until I looked into the mirror and recalled the picture on the shrine Nii-sama spent his time every day.

I look just like her.

My sister I never knew, Nii-sama's one true love. Hisana.

I knew I resembled her from the moment I set foot into the Kuchiki household. I mean, the maids talk. I overheard them speaking about how uncannily I looked like her. Then after Ichigo and the others came to rescue me and Nii-sama took a hit for me, he told me—he told me that Hisana Kuchiki, the woman who he had loved so dearly, was the sister who had abandoned me as a baby and looked for me for the rest of her life.

I didn't know what to say, so I just clung to his hand as if I was the one who had been stabbed.

As I stared into the mirror I realized that I was hurting him so badly, just by the way I looked. I have her eyes and her round face, pointed chin, her ebony black hair. It must have been hard for him to begin with, and now I claw at him with this new image of my longer hair, a mirror replica of his dead wife. My sister.

I touch the glassy, cool surface of the mirror with tentative fingers as I study myself closer. The only difference anyone would have seen between us would be that my eyes point slightly upwards and that my demeanor is a stark difference from hers. I was told she was a gentle, calm and beautiful woman. A streak of self-loathing pulses through me. Who am I to hurt him like this?

Before I think anything through, I have Sode no Shirayuki against my long tresses and I yank the blade through. Black strands drop into my lap, but I'm not done. Again and again, angrily, with jerky movements, I hack away at my hair that hurt him so. I am unforgivable. Tears fill my eyes as part of my hair are wrenched out, but I don't let them fall. When I'm done, I'm gasping for breath, drawing air in deep, shuddering gusts. My long hair is gone. It is even shorter than before, a bob with jagged edges. The maids will insist on trimming it to make it look neater, I know.

I glance down numbly at the mess of black in my lap and on the floor around me, then back up at the mirror that echoes my blank face.

I cannot hurt him anymore.


A/N - How did you like? ._. Short, I know. And not very fluffy. xD My bad, guys.

Please comment .3. It would certainly encourage me to write more often xD