Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.

Nocturne of Death

written by Kurosu

Chapter One: The Complication

The full moon hung high in the midnight sky, like a mysterious eye of heaven watching human lives pass along the currents of the world. The weather was clear and calm, a strange eeriness for a beautiful Saturday night in Tokyo. It could almost add to the romantic side of the never sleeping city, but on this particular night, it would start a series of events that would blur the lines of good and evil.

A man of law should question his own morality, before passing judgment of others. This, Gin Ichimaru knew but could care less when there were more important things that matter than his own ideals. He wasn't one to brood over philosophical details but embrace the practicality of existence. That was how he survived for so long in a cruel, unjust world. He brought himself up from the dark slums with his very own hands and became one of the sought after defense lawyer Tokyo had ever known.

He looked up into the sky and smiled widely to the beautiful moon watching him, perhaps scrutinizing him and his actions. It almost seemed poetic, with the right amount of solemnity in the night, like a stage set for the climax. His usual mask of smiles gradually faded at the realization of the restless chill intermingling within the silence.

He stopped walking, only two blocks away from his condominium complex, and that feeling of being followed crept upon his skin, though he was not one to be frightened from coward tactics. Beneath the light post, he stood and turned around slowly, prepared to face his destiny, but found nothing in the distance.

He knew something was not right with the scene, had felt it since he left the train station, but at the time, there were crowds of people to ease his mind. Now that he was so close to home, the trepidation with each step felt unusually heavy. At times like these, he wished he had lived in a more bustling neighborhood, though the secluded area was much needed when he wanted moments of peace from his high profile life.

But that life of his came with a price. His life.

The leaves rustled among the dark trees, startling him as he followed the sound, only to snap his head back at a different yet familiar slash of air near his face. He fell back a step just in time to miss a blade thrust by his left ear. The owner of the long sword came into view, under the exotic moonlight, and he was shocked to see the face of someone young and delicate with features so mysteriously alluring.

After missing her target, she quickly brought her armed hand back towards him, using the hilt of the sword to hit his chest, and that knocked him farther back onto the ground. She took a second to pivot around and took off in his direction while he tried to gather to his feet and flee, but she was fast, already on top of his back, pressing him to the ground. Before he could even utter a cry of pain from his twisted arm, the sharp blade was forced against his neck, and he could feel the shallow cut drawing blood.

In normal circumstances, he could've easily brushed off the tiny woman off, but he knew she was dangerous and dared not attempt anything sudden at the moment. He felt her breath upon his skin, as icy cold as the blade threatening him, and he involuntarily shuddered showing a fear he was unused to.

She hissed at him, "Who killed Kenpachi Zaraki?"

"Wha...?"

Unsatisfied with the response, she removed her hand from his captured arm, leaving her knee to hold it in place, and gripped his hair instead, pulling his head up slightly just to smash it onto the concrete walkway.

"Try to remember your own client. Kenpachi Zaraki. He died in jail five days ago."

"Nngh, Zaraki..." he mumbled, still suffering from the sudden injury to his head, but he gradually recalled the name, "Suicide... I was told suicide."

"Bullshit," she growled. The grip on his hair tightened, threatening to repeat the action again if need be for the inadequate answer. "Why would he kill himself when he has you for his lawyer? He would soon be out.

"Now tell me, who the fuck had him killed?!"

"I don't know!"

"Answer me, and you'll live tonight!"

He started to laugh, "Seriously?"

He wasn't sure why at a time like that he would just laugh, when his life was in her hands. Perhaps this was his punishment for crossing the line on morality, having deluded himself for so long, that he had power over those beneath him, having their lives within his own hands. He had played god, passing judgment of others, and received a certain thrill from it. Imagine the absurdity of it all when he was now being judged by another, and soon a punishment would follow suit.

His girlfriend had told him he was a sadist, especially in bed, but in actuality, it was just the opposite. He found his blood boiling when he pressed his neck deeper into the cold blade.

"You'll kill me after you get the answer," he seemed to sigh.

"Then you refuse to tell me?"

"I refuse."

Angry, she let go of his hair and yanked him onto his back, so he could see her face completely under the watchful eye of the moon. She was beautiful, like a messenger of death, with her narrowed, dark eyes glaring at his sinful form, contrasting her glistening, pale skin. For such a small creature, she had a very strong grip of his neck with just one hand, while the other still had the sword lingering across his neck, just below her hand. One false move, she wordlessly promised, then it would cut him immediately.

He gave her a wide grin.

"Before you die," she started, with a frown, but never finished.

Out of nowhere, a dagger protruded from her side, and she found herself wounded, collapsed over the dead body she had just killed. The blade made a deep, clean cut across the neck just as she saw the glimmer of the concealed weapon, but it had been too late to avoid the break of her skin. She then stood up, still over the body, and stared down at the dead man, laying there with wide eyes and that hateful smile, as if knowing he could not escape death that night.

With her mission completed, she began to move away, clutching her wounded side and gritting her teeth from the pain. She soon disappeared from the sight, leaving the corpse in a pool of blood to be watched carefully by the heavens.

In the early morning of dawn, the body of Gin Ichimaru laid beneath the protective sheet of dark plastic, and the area was barred off by the police from the citizens of the neighborhood and curious eyes. The local law enforcement were on the scene early that morning after the body was discovered by some drunken men arriving late - or early - from a night of partying and drinking.

The pink-haired medical examiner was attentively jotting down his last few notes when he heard footsteps nearing him. He looked up and grinned, recognizing the officers, and pushed up the frames of his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Ah, Schiffer and Jeagerjaques," he greeted them. "How nice of you to join us, three hours later."

"Shut the fuck up," Grimmjow growled, rubbing the side of his face, still doused with sleepiness. He was definitely not in the mood for jokes, not that he normally was either, considering the fact they surrounded a dead body while trying to avoid the blood pool, and without his coffee, he was not ready for work either. Who would've thought after so many transfers, his final one was to a division that was on call 24/7, which he was slowly regretting.

He glanced over to his quiet partner to find him already examining the wound on the man's neck, which piqued his interest. "He looks familiar," he mumbled, peering closely at the face, "and creepy. How can he die smiling like that?"

"Jeagerjaques, do you even watch the news?" Szayel sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Gin Ichimaru," Ulquiorra stated his identity, "Tokyo's current top defense attorney, engaged to Rangiku Matsumoto, a rising, popular model of the fashion world."

Surprised, Grimmjow stared at him for spewing out what he considered celebrity trash, but Szayel had a big smile on his face, happy that someone else was keeping up with world news. Although both didn't think the very solemn man would ever bother with knowing about such topics as fashion and tried not to snicker to themselves at the thought.

"So, he'll have lots of enemies huh," Grimmjow surmised.

Szyael began to inform them of his current findings, "Time of death was around midnight. The cause of death was a deep cut to the throat, severing the carotid artery and leading to exsanguination."

"They didn't find a weapon," Ulquiorra frowned.

"No, but it's most likely a blade of some sort," the doctor knelt down and pointed at the wound, "A very sharp blade. It's a smooth slice through the muscles and tissues. I'll find out more when we have him back in the lab." He made a gesture for his two assistants to load the body onto the vehicle, but Ulquiorra stopped them.

"Hold on," he ordered them and examined the corpse's clothing, "His clothes look disturbed, like someone was on top, or they struggled." He pointed to a small stain on the jacket, "There's an odd pattern of blood here. I don't think it's his though."

"I noticed that too," Szayel added, "I'll send a sample to DNA. Now let's get this body out of here." That was the cue for the body to be hauled away, leaving the two detectives to confer on their next move as they made their way to Ulquiorra's car.

It was definitely going to be a long morning, and Grimmjow insisted on some coffee before going to the victim's girlfriend's location. To shut up his partner's whining, Ulquiorra humored the request with his normal deadpanned expression and eerie silence that the blue-haired man had finally grown accustomed to without it being offensive.

After a quick stop at some generic coffee shop, Grimmjow bought his caffeinated cup of straight, black coffee - much needed to get through the day - and enjoyed it on the way to the apartment of Rangiku Matsumoto. By the time they reached said place, Grimmjow was restless. He couldn't wait to be out of the car, nearly throwing the door open before Ulquiorra could set it into park.

They arrived at the woman's front door, who looked like she was preparing for work, and Ulquiorra noted her ensemble from top to bottom: a sheer, lavender blouse paired with fitted, black denim. She was putting on her lipstick when she answered the door. She was surprised to find two handsome men at her doorstep but welcomed them all the same with her charming smile she was known for.

"I'm Detective Schiffer, and this is my partner, Detective Jeagerjaques. We're from the Tokyo MPD." They both showed their badges to her, and she immediately lost her smile and knew something terrible had happened. It was no wonder she had woken up so early and couldn't go back to sleep, like a premonition of things to come. She ushered them inside her home and asked them if they'd like something to drink.

Both declined and took a seat on the couch, but Grimmjow could hardly sit still for more than ten seconds before getting up to pace about the room. Rangiku, sitting across from Ulquiorra on the chaise lounge with fidgeting hands in her lap, stared at the tall detective trying to ease her mind with the distraction.

Ulquiorra looked at her nervous figure and said passively, "We're sorry to inform you about Gin Ichimaru..."

"Gin?!" Shock was quite evident in her voice and body gesture, when she practically flew to her feet, "What happened to him?!"

"He was found dead this morning."

At those words, the tears came and didn't stop, and the two men, being equally terrible with social situations, had no idea what to do, and regretted they did not bring a female coworker along. But after an excruciating hour with the woman, in between her sobs and disappearance to the bathroom, they didn't get any useful information about the victim or any suspects. She had an alibi that placed her late last night at a photo shoot across town, which they would have to check when they returned to the office, but their next destination was dead lawyer's office, to interview the employees there.

On their way to their next location, Grimmjow began to voice his thoughts on the case, not understanding why they were handling the case, "So what if the guy's rich and famous. Homicide would've love their hands on this, so why us? Is it that important for the Espada Division to be on it?"

Ulquiorra, driving, didn't answer him, but his secretive silence said it all. His partner mumbled a few curses, but to keep the atmosphere headache free, he spoke cryptically, "We won't know for certain till Monday."

A beautiful Monday morning greeted Karakura High School, but the students were less than thrilled when their English teacher returned their tests from last week. The petite woman stood at the front of the class with arms folded across her chest and a frown, staring at each student who took a few seconds to whine about their scores.

"I'm disappointed in all of you," she sighed, shaking her head, and then lifted her index finger in front of them, "except one person, who aced my test. Congratulations, Kurosaki." She grinned and looked at the student with the vibrant orange hair, seated in the back of the room by the windows. He ducked his head down, blushing with embarrassment at her praise and the attention he was receiving.

His classmate, Keigo Asano, nudged him slyly, snickering, "Tryin' to get good with the cute sensei, huh. Eheheh."

The said teacher flicked a piece of chalk at Keigo's head and scolded him, "Asano, you should study harder since you received one of the lowest grades in the class!"

"At least it's not the lowest one!" he smiled, but she just glared at him, hard. He laughed nervously, "Ne Kuchiki-sensei, someone as beautiful as you shouldn't have such an expression!"

Rukia rolled her eyes and then announced to the class, "Anyone who made below 80% will have a chance to make a better grade on the make up test at the end of the week. So please review your tests tonight and make corrections. If you have any questions, we will discuss them tomorrow. That will be your homework tonight."

With the conclusion of English class, she gathered things and prepared to leave while her students got ready for their next class. She was in no rush to depart, but her body was a tad more sluggish than normal. She felt stiff and strained all morning, trying to keep to minimum movements as much as possible, and hoped no one had noticed her strangeness.

Only one Ichigo Kurosaki had caught the awkward twist of her body and a flash of restraint in her pursed lips and cold eyes. He had been watching her ever since class started, when she walked into the room. She didn't seem like herself till the end there; she was very good at hiding her troubles from everyone.

But he was different.

And so was she.

He couldn't remember when he started observing her, but he did. He realized it when English class was no longer boring and he was making passing grades. He kept pondering over that strange feeling in his chest whenever she was around or when he thought about her. Maybe it was just a small crush on the teacher, but the feeling seemed to increase day by day, and it scared him.

"Oi Ichigo," Keigo's voice interrupted his thoughts, "did you do the math homework?"

"Yes, but I'm not letting you copy it."

"But we're best friends!"

Meanwhile in Tokyo that morning, the Espada Division, operating from an old branch of the Metropolitan Police Department, was hard at work going through Gin Ichimaru's recent cases he dealt with that could have caused his death. Grimmjow was at his desk surrounded by piles and piles of case files, and the two desk occupants nearby were doing the same. His two coworkers, Tia Harribel and Starrk Gingerback, were kind enough to help him - even though they were technically ordered to by the senior detective.

Grimmjow closed the current file he had and threw it on top of his messy desk. "Where the hell is Ulquiorra anyway?!" he demanded to know since the guy hadn't been seen by him all morning, though he did arrive late to work.

Without taking her eyes off the papers, Tia answered him, "He's at MPD HQ, getting some files."

"What the hell?! Isn't that what computers are for? To make life easier?"

She shrugged to his rhetorical questions, while her partner, Starrk sighed from boredom and stood up, "I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up when Nel-chan has lunch." He disappeared from the office, leaving Tia to continued to work and Grimmjow thinking about a nap too.

Finally the day was over, and Rukia managed to get through it, hurrying out of the teachers' language office, "Ochi-sensei, excuse me for leaving early!" The petite woman disappeared before the other one could get out a word, staring at the empty doorway curiously. She rushed through the buildings and campus, trying to avoid all teachers and students, just so she could get herself out of there.

At the time of day, the majority of students were at club activities or clean up duties, like Ichigo, who was on the second floor of the classroom watching Rukia leave through the school gates. He had never seen her run out so fast, and it worried him.

After taking two different trains, she was able to get herself to a clean apartment complex and knocked on the door. She leaned on the wall slightly and waited for he owner to greet her. A young man, looking disheveled from top to bottom, was taken aback by her visit and by her struggling appearance.

"Yamada-san..." she breathed out his name, and he quickly took her inside. He set her down on the couch as she apologized for disturbing him. He pulled her jacket aside and saw the blood seeping through her shirt. He went to get his emergency medical kit and immediately started to stitch her injuries close again.

"Ah your technique is still sloppy," he commented, "It's a good thing you got here when you did. You could've bled out."

"Thanks." She waited for him to finish patching her up and putting things away before she asked, "You're working tonight?"

"Yes, I have the night shift for the next three days."

"I'm sorry for coming like this," she bit her bottom lip in regret.

"Don't say that," he smiled kindly, "I don't mind at all. Retsu-oba-san did tell me to take care of you."

She returned the smile, very grateful for two of them in her life. She leaned back against the soft cushion and rested while he put away the kit and cleaned up the used bandages and bloody cloths. She started to talk again, with exhaustion hitting her hard, "I wish I had time to see Unohana-sensei, while I was there."

"It's okay. I'm sure she would understand."

After a moment's rest, Rukia stood up to leave, but he stopped her, placing a gentle but firm hand on her arm. "Just stay and rest for the evening," he suggested, "At least till I leave for work. I'll be able to monitor your progress for a bit."

She thought about it and then nodded. "Then go back to sleep," she ordered him. He looked uncertain for a second until she gave him the look of finality, and he sheepishly obeyed.

That night in Tokyo, Grimmjow was leaving a 24-hour convenience store, where he bought his dinner since he was the typical bachelor of modern times, but he was looking more grumpier than normal, having tried to call Ulquiorra for the past two hours. He still remembered his partner telling him they'd find out more about the case given to them, but he hadn't seen the guy all day and wasn't even told a single thing.

He was going to try one last time to call the idiot, and after the third ring, he heard the irritation in Ulquiorra's voice, for once, which pleased him. "You wanna explain it? To me. Your partner," he inquired.

"In the morning, so be on time," was his only answer, and he hung up.

Grimmjow angrily shoved the phone into his jacket pocket and shuffled home, with his cheap dinner of rice with gingered pork and pickled vegetables, a bag of shrimp-flavored chips and some sodas. It sucked being single and living alone and not being able to cook. The thought of dropping by Ulquiorra's place to mooch off food crossed his mind once, but most likely the guy wasn't even home. He was such a workaholic, and this case seemed to have hit something in him.

He sighed and brushed a hand through his hair tiresomely. So much for hoping it was a typical murder case.

Back in Karakura, Hanatarou left the apartment with Rukia, walking her to the station to make sure she was all right to go home alone. He saw her off safely at her departure train and then headed in the opposite direction to the hospital where he worked at, silently hoping that the young woman would stay out of trouble for a few weeks, which was asking for a miracle.

Rukia endured the trek home, as odious as it was, and thanks to the pain killers Hanatarou had given her, she felt better than before. She walked up the stairway to the second floor, where her small apartment was situated, rummaging through her purse for her keys, She turned the corner and looked up to see someone waiting outside, leaning against the wall by he door. She froze in surprise, and sensing eyes on him, he glanced in her direction and straightened his posture to greet her.

She made her way slowly towards him, doing her best not to fidget under his intense gaze. She found herself standing in front of him and braced herself to challenge his stare with her own.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, letting the hand holding her apartment key hang by her side. "It's cold at night, you know."

He broke their gaze from her, rolling his eyes at her comment, and said, "Didn't want to just break in."

She frowned, "You look more suspicious standing here."

He shrugged, not caring, and waited for her to make a move for the door. It was a bit cool, but he had only been waiting for an hour or so. If it had been longer, he might have just pick the lock and made him comfortable in her home, but that would cause an ear full of scolding.

He watched her carefully as she inserted the key into the door knob and knew she had been injured. "How bad is it?" his voice was dangerously low, almost burning her ear, when she felt his presence right behind her. From that certain tone she recognized, she was afraid to turn around to look at him, with slight anxiety in her throat to answer him.

After opening the door and a few quick deep breaths, she told him, "I'm fine now. I just got back from Yamada."

She entered her apartment and allowed him in after her, and while she set her things aside and turned on the lights, he closed and locked the door, also dropping his luggage in the tiny foyer. His emerald eyes returned to her form, apparently stalking her every move from slipping off her footwear to removing her jacket. A sudden flare behind the orbs burned when he spotted the blood stains of her blouse, and he moved towards her.

He caught her by the arm and twirled her around to him, and she let him do as he wanted, knowing him well enough that if she protested, he would only intensify his actions - which didn't bode well for her. He tugged her blouse up to inspect her wound, and after a minute of no reaction, she pulled herself away from him, which surprised him. He approved of the care Hanatarou had given but didn't like how thin she had become, even for her petite size.

Rukia went to the kitchen to get a drink, all the while speaking to him, "What do you want, Hitsugaya? You didn't travel all the way from eastern Tokyo to Karakura just to check on my health." She stared at him from her spot in front of the refrigerator, holding a bottle of water in one hand and the other on her hip. He frowned at her for using a name he didn't prefer her calling him by.

After several minutes of another staring contest, Toushirou admitted to her of his purpose, "It's a job."

Of course, that would explain him showing up at her doorstep, unannounced. She sighed and brushed a frustrated hand through her hair. She really should expect this from him, after ten years of being acquaintances, friends, comrades, lovers, or whatever since she wasn't sure what to label them anyway.

She threw him the bottle of water that he easily caught. "That's all I have to drink," she said, "If you want tea, you make it yourself."

"It's fine." He took a few steps into the living space and sat down at the table, opening the bottle for a sip. She joined him there with her own bottle, and they were both silent again. The last time either had seen each other was probably ten months ago when she was in Tokyo, but since then, they had not kept in touch. She wasn't surprised he knew where she lived either, because he always had ways of getting things he wanted.

"Why didn't you call?" she asked, with a hand gripping the water bottle and the other peeling the label off as a distraction between them.

"Why can't I surprise you?"

"I hate surprises, and you know that," she snorted, "And they're always bad ones." He chuckled at her response and took a gulp of water, as she continued, "How long are you staying here then?"

"Maybe three days, but I could change my mind." He put the bottle aside and rest his arms across the table, leaning towards her with a smirk playing on his lips, "You want to get rid of me so soon?"

"It's not that!" she quickly denied, hoping her face wasn't flushed with embarrassment, "If you're away from Tokyo too long, it could arouse suspicion."

"It's fine, Rukia," he leaned back from her and sighed, "You worry about others too much. You know when the job was in Karakura, I accepted it right away."

She shifted uncomfortably and knew it was getting late. "I need to sleep," she informed, "It's still a school night."

He chuckled at her escape route and left it be, when she disappeared into her room and reappeared before him with an extra futon in her arms. She placed it down on the floor and stood for a moment just to look at him. He was just staring up at her too, and the whole situation should have been awkward after some time apart, but it felt unusually calm and familiar, like reliving old times again.

"There's extra blankets in the closet. Towels too, so... I guess, don't be a stranger here." She turned away and muttered, "Good night, Hitsugaya."

"Rukia," he called her name with such a soft, sad tone that she stopped, in the doorway of her bedroom, and stole a glance in his direction. He appeared to be struggling with his words, but in the end, he sighed quietly, "Good night."

Notes: Well, here's the piece that was supposed to be a GrimmRuki but ended up turning to a HitsuRuki, with a side dish of IchiRuki. This idea came to me a few weeks ago, though I'm not sure which direction I want this to go in. I guess it's sort of a side project, more serious piece, than the other two Bleach stories.

I just wanted to write this first chapter out to get a feel for it and what everyone thinks, so back to The Shoujo Side soon. I do have half the next episode done though. *sighs* I know everyone is waiting for the HitsuRuki in that... I do too, lol... because it's going to be oodles of fun! *squeals* When I get there.

Thanks for reading and reviewing! -kuro