It was not Rukia's first delivery. It was not especially difficult either. If anything, the delivery was textbook smooth, with her contractions growing steadily more powerful, the baby shifting along the birth canal all right, the air of ease and delight permeating the delivery room. It lasted hardly more than seven hours.

No, this was not Rukia's first delivery, but all the same, it was by far the more difficult of the two.

After Captain Kotetsu helped ease the screaming baby out into the world, she gasped and went startlingly quiet. Rukia heard the heart monitor pick up as her pulse quickened, terrified of what that could mean. "Is everything okay?" she implored, easing her fatigued body up with weak arms. "What's wrong, Isane?"

Captain Kotetsu looked up and suddenly beamed. "No no no, everything is fine, Rukia!" she announced. "It's a girl, but boy does she look like her mama! It just surprised me!" And with that, she placed the squalling infant in the arms of a nurse while she finished with her primary patient.

Rukia leaned back down and sighed as a weight the size of her husband lifted off her shoulders. Another little girl. Another one, who from the looks of it could be her doppelganger.

Perfect.

Ichika's thirteenth birthday had been a crowded and raucous affair, but the party had been planned to withstand casualties, which is to say, it occurred far from the Kuchiki grounds. It wasn't just that Ichika hadn't the affinity for elegance or grace, but that her father's friend's plus-ones gradually morphed into plus-all-of-Squad-Elevens as the night progressed. Rukia was immune to the fiasco, though, even when she realized her brother had started suggesting more rounds of sake. Even when the dance floor was declared a drunken sparring circle. Even when she noticed the birthday girl and the visiting Kazui had been missing for quite some time.

Because Kazui wasn't the only guest from the World of the Living. A far-too suave Kisuke Urahara had led the way through the senkaimon just the day before. Kazui followed after guiding his clumsy mother through the passage. Yoruichi zoomed past them all and threw herself at Byakuya. And the one bearing all the presents, the one shouting at the top of his lungs for "help, dammit Hat-n-clogs I swear you gift-wrapped bricks just to watch me suffer like this" brought up the rear.

Ichigo. Ichigo Kurosaki.

A sudden lightness had entered her heart.

She mumbled through a harried greeting to the others as she stepped up to Ichigo, taking the gifts one by one from his arms. They had locked eyes in that moment, fiery sun and azure moon meeting again after too many years apart. When he smiled, he so resembled his teenage self she almost gasped, wondering if she had had the luck to step back in time and change their fate.

"Yo," he had said, his voice bright and soft.

"Hey," she had answered. "It's been a while." She could almost embrace him, refuse to let him go away ever again…

But no. Her husband walked up then and bear-hugged their visitor, wedging himself between the two of them. He took the gifts from her arms and led them back to the main group, ready to reintroduce their visitors to life in the Seireitei.

But they had found their moment. Later that night, just as the rest of the party watched in awe as a belligerent Ichika swung her recently unwrapped birthday brick toward Urahara's skull, Ichigo and Rukia rejoined the event, hoping no one would notice the elation and somewhat crumpled clothing only they seemed to share.

Two days later, hours after the visitors left, she cut her hair again as it was when she first met him.

Eight weeks later, as she excused herself from a captains' meeting to endure another round of nausea, the weight on her shoulders set in.

Her husband suggested they name their newest edition Hisana, and despite some initial doubts, Rukia relented. The infant gazing up from her arms really did look like her, what with that soft swatch of black hair and those indigo eyes. Another round of relief breezed through her. Not that brown eyes would've been impossible otherwise, but now her new baby was safe, even if she was now permanently linked to a legacy of regret.

Despite it all, Hisana was an incredibly happy child adored by everyone. She always had a smile on her face, one that brightened any room she was in. Rukia's husband adored all Hisana did and insisted on taking at least three hundred photographs of her every day. Ichika made time to be home more often to play with her. Even Byakuya made it a point to visit once a week and pick Hisana up the second he walked through the door, refusing to put her down until she needed to be changed or fed. Rukia hated to be far from her youngest daughter for even a second, going so far as to contemplate bringing her to work once her maternity leave expired.

But, as always, Rukia yielded to practicality, and Hisana was left behind with a sitter.

Thanks to Ichika and her thinly veiled relationship with Kazui, the Kurosaki family was in regular correspondence with their Shinigami friends. Each time Ichika left to visit them, Rukia made sure she brought with her plenty of pictures of the growing Hisana. Thankfully, Ichigo's wife was always happy to see baby pictures and didn't mind forcing him to look at them with her. According to Ichika, she had even pointed out that Hisana's smile "kinda looks like yours, Ichigo, don't you think?"

They had all laughed it off, but Rukia had to admit Ichika's eyes didn't quite light up when she relayed the story.

Like her sister before her, Hisana demonstrated the power of a Shinigami from a young age. She too was inducted into a Shinigami apprenticeship, and the family spent many nights outside play-sparring and practicing small Kido spells. Much to Rukia's chagrin, Hisana did not have much skill with Kido, but she was already exhibiting signs of a swordsmanship prodigy. Rukia's husband was delighted by this fact, often praising Hisana for how similar she was to her father in that regard. Rukia had to agree because it was the truth.

Then the nightmares began.

The first time Hisana had her nightmare, Rukia went racing through the house with her Zanpaku-to raised, ready to end whoever had threatened her daughter. But unfortunately, the source of Hisana's terrified screams was herself. Once she'd calmed down enough, Hisana explained that she dreamed of a frightening man, one with spiky white hair and yellow eyes. "H-he laughed," she murmured, burrowing into her mother's side for comfort. "It wasn't a funny laugh…It was so scary and he was so mean…!" She burst into another round of tears.

Rukia rubbed her daughter's back and kissed her head. "It was just a dream, Hisa-chan," she whispered. "I promise you that man won't ever hurt you. He's not real."

Hisana calmed down, but the nightmare wasn't a one-time occurrence. Several more times that month, Hisana woke up screaming, comforted only by the arrival of her mother. Rukia and her husband tried everything to frame a good night's sleep for her, but no amount of soothing music or relaxing tea prevented images of that horrible man from racing through Hisana's mind.

Rukia was at a loss until she brought Hisana to her office some months after the first nightmare. She was signing papers when Hisana started crying, pointing at one of the pictures on the wall. "'Ka-san, that's him, that's the man, that's the man from my dream!" she shrieked, clinging to her mother's leg. "Make him go away! Make him stop!"

But Rukia couldn't do a thing. Not even if she wanted to. The man on the wall had been dead for a very long time. She should know, seeing as it was she who drove the blade through his heart.

His cousin Ichigo was doing just fine, though.

Rukia's suspicions were confirmed when Hisana said the man had started yelling at her to say his name.

Those were no nightmares.

They were visions.

Hisana would never escape the horrible man.

She was the horrible man.

"You lied to my father," Ichika growled.

Rukia looked down at her hands. She was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. Bearing herself to the world. Letting it come at her for the sins she still couldn't bring herself to regret.

"You lied to everyone you know, Rukia." Ichika prowled before her, venom seeping from her mouth and glaring eyes. "I knew it. I just knew what you two had done. And now this!" She punched the wall, leaving a fearsome hole. Last night, she had come home to practice sword meditation with Hisana. The younger sister must have relented to the awful man because she woke up in Ichika's room with a new sword at her side, one without a handguard. Hisana insisted its name was Aoitsuki and that it claimed she was like her father, for she "lived for the moon, the cutting—and now blue—moon."

It didn't take Ichika long to put two and two together. Now she was livid. "How long did you think you'd be able to get away with it? Was it thrilling for you, knowing we'd never realize you'd stabbed us in the front?"

Rukia didn't say a word.

Ichika finally calmed down, but her glare would have made even her uncle cower in fear. "As a courtesy to who I thought you were," she said, "I won't say anything. But if you ever even thought you loved my father, you will tell him yourself, and soon." Ichika stormed out of the room, leaving her mother to lie on the floor.

Ichika had a point. Rukia didn't want to break his heart, but she had to. So she sat him down, poured him some tea, and opened her mouth to unleash the truth. But she couldn't. Her lungs were constricting, preventing air and words alike from escaping. She had held onto this secret for so long now. She would have to claw out her chest and throat if she ever wanted to let it out.

But somehow, he knew. He knew in the way she didn't like talking about the past. He knew in the way she never looked at him when they were shrouded only in silken sheets and sweaty skin. He knew in the way she had cut her hair just after Ichika's thirteenth birthday. And even though it enraged him to know a close friend was the other man, it hurt him more to see her so miserable. That she'd make herself so heartsick.

"But why?" he asked; his tone was imploring and angry, saddened and yearning.

She shook her head. "It never would have worked otherwise," she said. "It wouldn't have been practical to ask him to leave his family or for me to leave mine. And I knew you loved me. I didn't want to break your heart again…" Her voice cracked.

He scoffed. "Notice how if it's meant to be, it will be." He looked out the window, at the setting sun and the growing black night. "…We have a daughter, Rukia."

"Re—"

He held up his hand, not wanting to hear her speak his name. "Does Kurosaki know?"

Rukia shook her head. "I never told him, but I can't be sure."

He stood up with his tea, exiting the room. "He'll know soon enough."

The World of the Living was so different from the Soul Society. It was loud and colorful, but it had a flow about it. There was enough permanency within this realm to where you could afford to relax. The Soul Society, on the other hand, while peaceful, was so unpredictable. You never knew what was going to happen next and could only hope it wouldn't involve the use of your Zanpaku-to. It demanded so much focus, even in peacetime. It was very much a militarized zone that did not have room for the likes of emotion.

Such were Rukia's thoughts as she rang the bell at the Kurosaki clinic. She began to doubt if coming here was the better option, but the art of the escape had always been a specialty of hers. Even so, the second she saw Ichigo's wife coming to answer the door, Rukia felt cornered. It didn't matter that she was greeted with civility. She was the other woman in this world.

Ichigo was sitting alone at the kitchen table when she came in. Despite the grave air about him, his face became serene when he saw her, a reflex he hadn't the means or desire of controlling. "Hey," he said.

Rukia waited until his wife left. "Hi," she answered, sitting down across from him.

He watched her for a long while. His brow was furled and his mouth set, his confusion and worry so apparent. He'd grown out his hair again, but it was still shorter than in the old days. His hands were worn from frequent sterilization and the battles that haunted his grip. He wore no rings.

Ichigo let out a sigh all of a sudden and reached a hand behind his head, scratching his hair as always. "So her name's Hisana," he said.

Rukia nodded. "Yes. It wasn't my idea, but it suits her, I think."

He nodded back. "It's a nice homage."

Rukia managed to smile, even if it only lasted a few seconds. "She discovered the name of her Zanpaku-to just a couple months ago. Aoitsuki."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "You don't say."

"She says he…Aoitsuki…he looks like you. Well, Zangetsu. But you two are very similar to begin with."

Ichigo set his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. He was thinking, of course, but Rukia couldn't tell what he was about to say. So much for a stable, predictable World of the Living.

"Can I see her soon?" he finally asked. "I'd like her to come visit so she can meet Yuzu and Karin and everyone."

Rukia's pulse quickened. He'd accepted her, just like that. It wasn't entirely surprising, but the expectations he had for everyone else…She couldn't help but think Byakuya would call this audacity.

But she could be daring too. "I agree," she said. "I want to bring her down for a little while. But what about…?" She gestured toward the doorway.

Ichigo shook his head and gave her an unhappy smile. "We've talked about it. Obviously…" He cleared his throat. "She says she's known all along. She is and has been content knowing she'll never be the…the woman in my heart. She appreciates me giving her even a few good years, not to mention Kazui, but..." He looked away. "She said her heart has been broken since Hueco Mundo."

A broken heart that remained even after all this time.

Rukia clasped her hands before her, watching her fingers twist like the strands of a knot. But unlike the other disasters she had been so good at creating over the years, she could clearly see how to unravel this one. All it took was a little effort, a little bit of work on both ends. A little bit of attention and communication to see where this red string of fate brought them.

Rukia looked up and saw Ichigo was staring at her hands as well. His mouth still mourned his wife's heartbreak, but his eyes were of a resolute brightness. What should have been a dark and confusing time had lit him up from the inside.

Feeling she still had some daring in her, she quietly asked, "What will we do now?"

He shrugged. "Well, we haven't decided, but neither of us is really willing to stay in this house any longer. She's brought up a couple times that Tatsuki has a spare bedroom at her place, and I've been meaning to sell the clinic for a while. I just haven't had the motivation…"

She heard the implication loud and clear, but didn't poke that beast. "You want to sell the clinic? Your father left it and the house to you. It's been your home your entire life."

He shrugged again. "It hasn't been a home so much as a ball and chain lately, and the biggest reason I agreed to work at the clinic was because Uryu started working at the hospital."

She smirked. "All you two ever do is compete."

"We do not!"

"Then why else would Uryu prompt you to take over the Kurosaki Clinic? Explain that one to me, oh wise man."

"I don't need to tell you anything, shorty!"

"Don't call me shorty, idiot!"

"Don't call me idiot, shorty!"

Rukia was about to answer, but it was then she realized they were both standing, leaning over the table, their mouths just inches from each other…

She watched his chest rise and fall as he tried to calm himself.

The sight only made her lean forward.

The clinic was sold. The divorce papers were signed. Her ex-husband and oldest daughter still wouldn't talk to her, but she figured as much. Only time might heal their pain. His ex-wife stayed in touch and kept them updated on her way toward earning a nursing degree. His son was the only thing connecting her to her oldest child.

Hisana was still in the middle of processing the changes that had suddenly rocked her world, but she was slowly coming to terms with them. She still had her reservations about her father, but he had been working with her and her Zanpaku-to lately. She had to admit, he had an awful lot of insight on how to handle the moon. With time, she might grow to appreciate him for more than just swordsmanship skills.

Rukia, though, she couldn't say if she was happy or not. Yes, her dreams were realized and all that, but getting there had left a serious amount of fallout that still had to be straightened up. Not even her brother looked at her the same way anymore. But she had to admit that she felt lighter. Airier. She woke up without effort now. She could greet the day rather than its struggles. He made things more difficult, maybe, but he made them easier too. They were two loose ends who no longer needed to knot together to excuse their meeting. They no longer had anything to hide amidst countless loops and over- and underpasses.

Ichigo had said it best the first night after he'd come to stay in the Seireitei. They were still trying to catch their breath, lit only by moonlight, when she asked, "Did you always love me?"

He shook his head and laughed. "You ask stupid questions," he said. "Rukia, of course I did. I will always love you. I do always love you."

And he breathlessly kissed her.

A/N: Argh, first fanfic released upon the world in years! Hope I'm not too rusty. Do excused the rushed ending! (I just wanted them to be happy together okay?! DX)