The bright spring blossomed into summer, then rolled on into a mild, wet autumn that flooded the slums of Rukongai and dampened Kaien and Rukia's resolve to train in the mountains. Instead, they worked in the dojo on basic sword skills and often retired early.

Because she worked closely with Kaien, despite her rank Rukia was often required to attend officers' meetings and, of an evening, it became customary for her to sojourn with him and their captain. She had not grown close to anyone else in the squad, having made no particular mark in terms of skills and aptitudes, and she had only once been to the real world in a support role for Third Seat Kiyone. Yet, in some small way, she felt she was of use to the squad.

Tonight, they were seated in Ukitake's quarters: a large guestroom with drapes. The evening air was humid and it laithed in through the open window. Ukitake was discussing the retirement of an officer who had been drafted to the real world for several months. His two Third Seats, one rank below Kaien, were animatedly agreeing with everything he said.

"What about Rukia?" asked Kaien.

A silence fell. The eyes of the two Third Seats drifted towards Rukia where she was seated beside the vice-captain. "I'm serious, Ukitake-taichou. It needn't be a position of great responsibility. I know she lacks experience, but her skills outrank those of most of our seated officers now, present company excluded."

Rukia's eyes had gone wide. She took a sharper than usual swig from the cup of sake she held and started to cough. Ukitake smiled but addressed Kaien:

"I realise that, but, as you are well aware, I would rather Kuchiki Rukia remained in her current post. Unless she has any objection."

"No, Sir," she managed.

"Come on, Juushiro," Kaien said, breaking rank to call Ukitake by his forename: "This division doesn't take orders from Squad Six."

"Indeed, no."

"Then why?"

"You may want to reserve this conversation for another time," said Ukitake with a note of warning, but Rukia had heard only one thing in the exchange:

"Squad Six? What has my brother got to do with this?"

Kaien's expression was cool, but his eyes were triumphant. A patient man, the captain sighed and set down his cup.

"Shiba believes you have a right to know and, in truth, I tend to agree, but please" – he threw a warning glance at Kaien – "Remember that I am breaking my word to tell you this and I would prefer it if you took it no further than this room. When Byakuya first recommended you for this squad, he did so on one condition: that you were not to be granted an officer's rank. I agreed because I am well aware that my refusal would have resulted in his doing all in his power to stop you joining the Gotei Thirteen."

"What?" She stared: "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"He wants to protect you," said Kaien through gritted teeth. Rukia turned to stare at him:

"This is Byakuya we're talking about, right? That man has never shown the slightest interest in my well-being."

"Kuchiki-taichou may play his cards close to his chest," said Ukitake: "And I may not agree with his methods, but his intentions in this case, at least, cannot be faulted. He is afraid to lose you. He has lost others that were in his life, and he thinks that an officer's rank would place you in danger. He is probably right."

"No. When I first joined Thirteenth Division, the first thing he asked me was what number seat I had taken. He expected me to rank as an officer, and I – I disappointed him in that respect." Her captain and vice-captain exchanged glances.

"Rukia," Kaien said gently: "He was checking to see that Ukitake had kept his word."

"But he's never been interested in anything I do!" she burst out. She coloured when Ukitake's pale eyes fell on her and remained longer than strictly necessary:

"He has asked for a report on your progress every week since you took this post."

"Byakuya Nii-sama?"

"He has made it clear to me that he does not agree with your choices, but he has, at least, respected them, Rukia, and has taken every interest in your work."

"Although he's not beyond sabotaging her promotion," muttered Kaien.

"As I said, I cannot condone his methods," Ukitake began, but, as he leaned forward to pour himself another cup of sake, the screen door slammed aside and a shinigami dropped to his knees on the threshold, bowing his head to Ukitake as he barked out a rapid report:

"The Fourth and Thirteenth Division teams dispatched to the human world were attacked by hollow. There was only one survivor. They are bringing her back through the dangai now." He looked up at his vice-captain: "Your wife, Kaien-dono. She'll be taken to Fourth Division."

The room erupted. Kaien was on his feet, all but stepping over the messenger to get outside. Ukitake's face had gone pale as marble and he seemed to sag, even as the two Third Seats moved to his side. It was easy to forget that the captain was a man with frail health. He usually hid it well, but, within minutes, he seemed to have aged a hundred years. He let his Third Seats help him to his feet. Rukia, without thinking, went after Kaien.

In the medical quarters of Fourth Division, Miyako Shiba lay on a high bed in an otherwise empty room. There was no mark on her body, no trace of a struggle in her clothes or her immaculately braided hair. They had folded her hands across her belly and Rukia found herself unwillingly reminded of a corpse laid out for an elaborate funeral. She had not followed Kaien into the room. The moment seemed to intimate for her to intrude upon, so she stood waiting in the doorway.

He had been told that he could not touch her. They did not yet understand the nature or extent of her injuries.

Kaien walked slowly to the bed, his hands at his sides. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered, and he seemed to tower over the woman who lay there. Rukia had never known a space that did not seem smaller the moment he entered. She watched this man whom she had come to equate with all the strength and certainty she didn't herself possess, stop, his whole body unnaturally still. As she watched, he crumpled, falling to his knees and gripping his chest. He began to shake with silent sobs. Rukia's own hand closed spasmodically on the doorframe. She was unable to go to him, but incapable of walking away, while behind her, on the decking outside, the two Third Seats were talking, voicing the very doubts that were almost certainly the cause of Kaien's despair.

"It's unlikely, isn't it, that a hollow would leave a survivor. In plain view, they said."

"That was Ukitake's concern. They'll need to find out what happened when she wakes up."

"If she wakes up."

"And if it's actually her."

They fell silent and Rukia, sensing a familiar presence, turned. Byakuya was standing at the base of the decking, watching her.

"Nii-sama," she whispered.

He didn't acknowledge her, but his eyes flickered to the two Third Seats and they bowed in unison, their hands on their knees.

"I spoke with Ukitake," he said: "Have you anything more to report?"

"No. There's no change. Nothing physically wrong with her, but the surgeons can't wake her."

Byakuya nodded and glanced at Rukia:

"It's late," he said.

"I promised Kaien-dono that I would wait."

"It's alright, Rukia," said a voice from behind her. She turned. Kaien was standing in the doorway. He'd made no effort to hide his grief and was rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand: "I need to speak to Ukiatke-taichou and then, I don't know, but you should go home, get some sleep. There's nothing you can do here."

"I couldn't possibly sleep, knowing that she's" –

"Your vice-captain has asked you to leave," said Byakuya without looking at her. She stiffened and balled her hands into fists. Kaien's gaze had fallen to the floor. He seemed only half aware of their exchange and, in light of his resignation, she could think of no more objections:

"Of course, Nii-sama." Her footfalls were brittle on the stairs.