It was a dark night, and there appeared to be a storm brewing. No stars were visible in the pitch black sky, and an unusual chill wind ripped across the back gardens of the 13th Division's headquarters. Leaves and small branches were tossed across the yard, petals ripped from the roses and dogwoods to fly off and mix with the scent of the rain that was certainly headed this way. The small figure of a girl who had been meditating on the far side of the koi pond was nearly bowled over.
Kuchiki Rukia straightened up and brushed herself off. In the years since Kaien's death she'd taken to meditating at the back of the garden after sunset, sometimes with Captain Ukitake at her side. It was a healing process that together they would find a way to muddle through, day by day, year by year, and the pain would lessen. Captain often told her that Kaien wouldn't have wanted them to dwell, but thinking on that didn't make it any easier for Rukia. It simply made her dwell on dwelling, and that was possibly the most useless thing to dwell on that she could think of.
Ah, well. Tonight was a waste. She was too agitated for productive meditation and anyway it looked like rain. Even though she would be staying the night at the barracks as usual these days, Rukia's brother would scold if he somehow found out that she'd gotten wet. And of course he would; he had eyes everywhere. She crossed the little bridge over the now-inky-black koi pond with small, careful steps. It wouldn't do to fall in and frighten anyone.
Everyone else should have already settled down for the night, but as she approached the main entrance to the barracks Rukia heard the familiar sound of Kiyone and Sentaro squabbling, followed by a slamming door. This prompted more bickering, apparently, and Kiyone began to cry loudly.
Really, it was like dealing with children. Especially since they'd stopped drinking.
Rukia slipped quietly through the hall and to the door from which the noise was emanating. It was the door to Captain Ukitake's quarters, and it was cracked open. It was certainly none of her business, but if there was something afoot and everyone else was already in bed, it was her duty as a member of the division to see to it. She poked her head in.
Kiyone stood, still in uniform, bawling like a 5 year old. She held a tea tray that contained Captain Ukitake's bedtime dose of herbs, teas, and medication from the 4th Division. Captain Unohana believed in a holistic approach and prescribed drugs as well as homeopathic remedies. Sentaro was pacing back and forth, occasionally shouting about how this was Kiyone's fault. Captain Ukitake was nowhere to be seen. What are these fools doing?
Oh lord, she'd been spotted.
"Kuchiki!" Kiyone sobbed, nearly incoherently. "Captain won't take his medicine!"
"And it's your fault!" snapped Sentaro, turning on Kiyone angrily. "You shouldn't have told him that story about—"
"I didn't dooooo itttt!" Kiyone wailed, covering her face with her hands.
"If Captain Ukitake does not wish to take his medicine, then it is not our place to force him." Rukia put on her best snooty Kuchiki House voice. She did a great impression of her brother. "Nor is it within our power to do so. He is quite a grown man, do you not agree?"
"But he'll be ill tomorrow!"
"He had a good day today, we can't let him ruin it!"
Rukia raised an eyebrow. "You really can't stop him from ruining it, if he wishes. It's his lungs, and he shall do as he pleases with them."
"He said he wanted to rest, and told us to just forget it and get to bed! WE CAN'T DOOOO THAAAT!"
"If Kaien were here--"
"If Kaien were here," Rukia interrupted coldly, her patience evaporating like fog on a sunny morning, "He would say, 'Yes, Captain, goodnight!' and he would put the medicine away and go to bed, just as his captain had ordered him to do."
There was a brief silence, in which Kiyone and Sentaro's gazes both traveled from Rukia to Captain Ukitake's closed bedroom door and then down to the slatted floor.
Kiyone sniffed. "She's quite right, Sentaro."
"Quite."
"Fine."
"Fine. Good."
"Good. Whatever."
"Stop it!" Rukia hissed. She took the tray of tea and medicine from Kiyone's hands. "Go to bed, I will clean this up for you."
They both shuffled off with appropriate looks of shame and guilt. Rukia fretted and muttered under her breath, quietly seething as she poured out the soured tea and rinsed the cups. The very idea of those two idiots keeping Captain Ukitake awake with their nonsense. What ridiculousness. Of course nobody could look after Captain like Kaien could, but throwing little tantrums and bickering like fools wasn't helping anyone. If anything the stress would be more detrimental to his health than a single night of missed meds.
Rukia picked up some spilled tea leaves from the floor and was straightening some tulips in their little vase on the bottom shelf when a soft noise caught her attention. She turned halfway to see Captain Ukitake standing in the open doorway behind her, already in pajamas, with a kind smile on his face.
"Kuchiki," he nodded. "My thanks to you."
"Of course, Captain." Rukia tried to bow low, but almost dropped the flowers and scrambled to right them before she made a mess. Ukitake grinned.
"Would you like some tea? I have some freshly made in here."
"Yes Captain, if that is your wish."
Rukia followed Captain Ukitake into the next room, which was a little sitting room. The open window revealed that it had not yet begun to pour outside, and a second door opened into the Captain's bedroom, which looked clean and carefully kept. He poured them both a cup of green tea.
"I did take my medicine earlier," he confided quietly, blowing on his tea. "Sometimes I need a break from those two, you see." Rukia smiled, nodding. "Of course they mean well, but, well...."
"I understand completely, Captain." Lightning struck outside the window, lighting the gardens up as if it were high noon. Rukia jumped a bit, but her captain seemed unaffected.
"You know, you should probably work on being a bit less tightly wound, Kuchiki." Ukitake looked out the window. "That inner calm that your brother possesses, that's a trait highly prized in your house. And it's dead useful, to be fair. He never jumps at thunderstorms and spills his tea." A mischievous smile appeared on the captain's smooth face.
"Yes, Captain." Rukia rather thought that Byakuya's inner calm was more likely the result of a stone-cold heart than of training, but she couldn't deny that it served him well. "I am working on it. My brother, he is a great Captain, but not much of a teacher."
"If it makes you feel better, my dear, he had quite a short fuse when he was young. It has taken him a few hundred years to master his current ability to mimic a piece of jade."
"Oh?"
"Oh yes, it was so easy to set him off. The slightest thing would send him into a rage. He fought with Yoruichi almost weekly, and got into more skirmishes with Kaien than I care to recall. Kaien always won, too, in the end."
It was hard to imagine the stoic Kuchiki Byakuya as a brash and quick-tempered boy. Since Rukia had known him he was a large, frightening presence in her life. Mysterious, powerful, and disapproving. For so many years Rukia had longed for a family to call her own, and to find that the man she would call her brother could hardly spare her a glance or speak to her over dinner was a true heartbreak. And yet she kept trying, even after the ordeal with Kaien, to impress him, to give him some reason to care for her. She was beginning to think it was just so much wasted effort.
"I wonder often how he might have been if he had grown up with siblings, rather than picking them out of the Academy after he had grown." Rukia said. "I would like to go back in time, and take him off on a wild adventure in the Rukongai. Before he had a chance to grow up to be my brother." She pressed a finger under her nose, turning the tip up to the sky in an impression of her brother's snobbish posture.
Ukitake positively giggled at her caricature of Byakuya, his hair coming down from its loose ponytail. A good hard look at him would reveal few lines in his youthful complexion. His silvery hair was the result of his illness, not genetics, as was his thin, somewhat effeminate form. The Kuchiki women liked to speculate loudly that he was "One of those she-men." Which frankly infuriated Rukia to no end—those sheltered, over-fed and plainly useless parlor pretties had likely never seen a homosexual man. Either way, it was none of their business and very irrelevant. Who Captain slept with made no difference to his ability to run his division. But it was no use arguing with the shrill harpies and anyway, it would only make Byakuya more disappointed in her.
"Perhaps," said Ukitake, still smiling, "if he had had someone his own age to play with, he would have been less temperamental. He would certainly have been happier. But do remember, Kuchiki, that his childhood wasn't easy either. He lost his parents and grandmother early, and his only company was his tutors and stuck-up nobles most of the time. He was abandoned later by his teacher Yoruichi, whom he admired and probably hoped to someday defeat. It isn't that he dislikes you.... I believe that he is genuinely as kind as he knows how to be."
"Perhaps, Captain. Still, it's hard to imagine how children can come off the streets of Inuzuri so loving and gentle, having grown up starving in the streets, while someone who was given everything he possibly needed could turn out so cold."
"Clearly, he wasn't given everything he needed." The thin man poured more tea, emptying the pot this time.
"Yes, Captain." The rain began to come down, pattering lightly on the roof.
"It will get easier, Kuchiki. You will come to know each other, and reach a more comfortable sort of relationship."
"Compared to now, everything seemed so much simpler when I was a child." Thunder rolled across the compound, rattling the floor and Rukia's teeth. She ignored it successfully this time. "I thought that having family would make things better, but even stealing food and sleeping in trees to escape the bears seems easier than trying to get along at Kuchiki Manor. My brother is no help, and offers no encouragement. The servants don't like me, and I don't like to be waited on. My only friend from Inuzuri won't speak to me. The Kuchiki women are.... well frankly, sir, they're bitches. "
Ukitake burst into a fit of genuine laughter, which was thankfully not concluded with any coughing. Sentaro was right, this really had been a good day for him.
"Truly, sir. Sometimes I want to just... go back, and forget Kuchiki House. There is nothing for me there."
"Oh, Kuchiki," he sighed, and for a moment he looked old. Rukia knew that he was well over a thousand years old, but somehow it seemed that his vibrant personality never let it show through. "Life is like the weather, in many ways. As is my illness, as is your relationship with your brother. Winter may come, but spring inevitably follows, doesn't it? And isn't living through the rainy days worth seeing the sun again?" He sipped his tea, and reached out one-handed to pull the little paper window open further and let the damp night air in.
"Yes, Captain."
"Besides, I rather like the rain. When faced with the possibility that you might not see tomorrow, having rain today is just fine. How can you appreciate the sun when it comes, if you never know the rain?"
Rukia nodded silently. He was quite right, of course. Being an orphan in Rukongai was over. Being an awkward, poor student at the Academy was over. This too would pass, and one day, perhaps, things would be normal. She would have a normal routine, a normal job, and a normal family. Until then, all this stress wasn't helping anything.
"You know what, Kuchiki? You need a mini-vacation." Ukitake looked thoughtful. "I will put in for you to take a few weeks in the Real World, how's that? You can slay some hollows, stay out all night, and buy some Real World clothes. They have wonderful sweets, you know!"
"If you wish it, Captain."
"I do wish it, Kuchiki. I want you to relax, and to come back refreshed and a little more in tune with yourself, alright? Now get off to bed, you might be leaving in the morning. Sweet dreams, dear."
"Yes, Captain." Rukia bowed herself out, padding quietly down silent hallways to her room. The Real World was a fascinating place. Perhaps Captain was right, and it would help her forget her troubles. She could work and focus on herself for a while, rather than focusing on impressing her brother or getting along with the servants. It would be good for her heart and her heart, so to speak.
When she came back she could work on learning to be a sister to someone who didn't seem capable of having feelings. And if it never worked out, then she could learn to harden her heart instead. She could protect herself from thieves and Hollows, and she could protect herself from Kuchiki Byakuya too. Still too restless to lie down, the girl settled herself out on the wide outdoor walkway outside her bedroom, in the driving wind and rain. It was familiar, and soaked her to the bone as it had on so many of those nights of her childhood in the wilds and the streets of Inuzuri. Her brother would still scold if he discovered she'd been out in it, but she found herself bold and unafraid.
There was nothing to fear from the rain.