A/N: I'm really, really hoping this story will draw in KaiRuki lovers, cuz this is for whom and why I've written this story. To those who are discouraged by where this thing is going, I PROMISE it gets better. What I'm doing right now is focusing on Rukia's mental state after his death.

I'm also using it as a focus for the bigger plot points.

I would really truly appreciate feedback from those who support this pairing and those that like this story in general. If there's anyone who would like to give out pointers or discuss Kaien/Rukia, then feel free to PM me.


Chapter 2- Here's Your Man


Psychologically, Rukia Kuchiki was leveled to inwardly resemble that of a crumbled, dilapidated building.

She was despondant and answered no one, not even her superiors.

In the week she'd been in squad 4's stables, she had become underweight and malnourished—not that she hadn't been slightly underweight to begin with. Unohana had gone as far as to suggest feeding her intravenously, and when the situation did arrive to recquire that, Ruka fought tooth and nail.

Apparantly, she hadn't been that anemic, especially considering she managed to put one male peon through the wall and another in the emergency ward.

Now, eight days later, she was still the same. In Renji's opinion, Rukia looked like death on a cracker.

For the love of God! Her superior had died! So what? Was that really meriting of a total breakdown?

As Soul Reapers, their occupation was to be expectant of these kinds of tragedies.

The Gotei 13 no sooner suffered these losses and those people were replaced.

Unfortunately, there was an exemption on Ukitake's case. Yamamoto always played favorites where Shunsui and Ukitake were involved.

He'd gone for that "wanting to honor Kaien Shiba's memory" bit hook, line and sinker. It was ridiculous. In Renji's opinion, they needed a replacement, and those foolish dimwitted, recently promoted third seats of his weren't going to get the job done. If Ukitake didn't croak soon, then Kiyone and Sentaro would see to it.

Therefore, due to total stupidity, Kaien's position would remain empty...and not up for grabs.

Not that Renji wanted to serve for the 13th, anyway. He already had his sights on Byakuya.

Fortunately, Zaraki gave all his subordinates time to loaf about like it was hotcakes where fighting wasn't involved, so Renji hadn't had much of problem persuading him for a break.

Tetsuzaemon was away with his mother and Ikkaku and Yumichika were elsewhere training their asses off for something, so he'd had no objections.

Maybe Rukia would cheer up if he told her he was being considered for a transferral to squad 5.

A promotion meant that he was getting seen; it also meant he was climbing up in the ranks and approaching his goal. Surely, that'd snap her out of her stupor, he thought.

Renji hopped up to the entrance of the 4th's barracks and entered. A couple of female lower-ranked inferiors gave him acknowledging looks as he strode past them.

One day they'd be bowing to him. He smirked at the concept of being called "lieutenant Abarai".

His bare feet padded on the hardwood floor as he navigated his way down the corridors past the intensive care unit to the recovery ward. In the hall on his way to Rukia's room, he saw Isane standing next to an open door as someone, no doubt from the 11th division, hurled a bedpan at her, where it hit the wall and fell to the floor with a resounding clatter. A string of expletives followed.

"Hey!" Renji called. "Trouble?"

"Ah," she said, inclining her head to him in greeting. "I've got it handled." A bowl of peas sailed past her head, missing her by inches.

"FUCK YOU AND THIS SLOP! I'M NOT EATIN' THIS SHIT! YOU CAN GO SHOVE IT UP THE DARKEST PART OF THAT LILY WHITE A-" Renji slammed the door closed, muffling the rest of what was said.

"Heheh. Profane, aren't they?" he inquired.

"All but one, apparantly," she said, and brandished her clipboard before scribbling down some information on the patient.

This report would evidently find its way to Unohana, who would go over it, analyze it, crosscheck it, mark those who'd been naughty or nice, then pay them all a visit with the exception of the good ones, and she would commence to bear her satanic aura, effectively causing them all to shit in their pants.

Luckily, Renji had no such misfortune, and he wasn't one to get on Unohana's bad side like some schmucks. He flushed anyway at Isane's indirect compliment.

"Well, I try," he told her.

"May I ask what you're here for?" she inquired.

Having nearly forgotten his purpose for being there as he'd been busy basking in his ego, Renji straightened up.

"Ah, that. I'm here to visit Rukia." Isane's facial expression slackened.

"I see. Well, she was moved to the sunroom this morning. Unohana wanted her to get a little light. You take a right and then keep going straight. It's easy to spot," she said. Isane directed him with her finger and Renji nodded. "I get it. Thanks." He trotted off down the corridor and took a right some twenty feet away.

Windows that took up half the walls were adjoined along the expanse of the building to let in more sunlight for the patients' enjoyment and ease of recuperation. At the end of the hall, a tad to the right again, were two large sliding doors. Renji entered the room and was automatically bathed in the sun's rays.

A skylight installed in the roof was the source of most of the illumination. Rukia sat in a wheelchair nearby in the shade of a part of the ceiling which uniquely sloped over her and then rose into a malformed triangle high up in the ceiling. He hurried over to her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hey, Rukes!" he said jovially. "How's it hangin'?!" The affection in his voice went unremarked, unlike before as kids when Rukia normally would have made some half-assed attempt like "to the left!" and they would both burst out laughing.

This time she just stared out the window in front of her. She wasn't, however, looking on what was on the other side of the glass pane, though; she was looking through it, at nothing.

Her complexion was pastel-no, semi-transparent.

"Jeez, Rukia, you need to eat something. You look like death on a stick," he said, tone more serious.

She still didn't answer. She didn't even seem to realize he was there.

Tattooed brow meshing together, Renji reached out and squeezed her shoulder, shaking her.

"Hey! Rukia, answer me!"

Her chapped lips parted. "Go away," she rasped. Dark bruise-like rings rimmed her eyes, her eyes of which were dull and no more the vibrant violet he'd once known, but something dead and hollow, like the barrenness you see in a Hollow's hole moments before you kill it.

"Ru-"

"Leave it be, Abarai." Renji whirled around, teeth bared. He went still when he saw Byakuya Kuchiki standing there, his robes pin-straight, hair brushed-not a strand out of place-his expression stoic as ever.

"C-captain Kuchiki," he announced impulsively.

Rukia didn't budge an inch.

"I am having her discharged and taken to the estate so my staff can see to her care. See that you stay out of their way," he said. Byakuya's eyes narrowed, rendering Renji speechless with rage.

Who the fuck does he think he is...?! Renji had half a mind to speak up, but he knew whatever he said to Byakuya, or what he thought of the situation was, to a point, meaningless. To the noble, he was of no more value than an insect.

Servants began to file into the room, each respectively bowing to Byakuya before going over to Rukia's side. One of the menial hands there manned Rukia's wheelchair and rolled her on out of there without so much as granting Renji a glance in his general direction.

They all kept their heads lowered and trailed out of there in the same order they'd come. Rukia didn't seem to show any reaction of sorts to this quick turn of events and remained expressionless.

"H-hey!" Renji started.

"Mind you that visitations will be limited. I expect you to keep a fair distance so she can recuperate."

Renji ground his teeth together, jaw set.

"I beg your pardon, captain Kuchiki, but I've known Rukia longer than you have. I think I speak-"

"And I am her primary caregiver," Byakuya interjected, flashing the crimson-haired Soul Reaper a look.

"I will do what I think his best for her health without consideration for your opinion. It carries no great weight for me to say that I could care less what you think. Your minor involvement in her life is over. I suggest now you watch where you tread."

The aristocrat's passive grey eyes glinted coldly, darkening the formerly bright atmosphere of the room.

"Learn your place, Abarai. She's a Kuchiki. Not a lowlife street dog." With a swish of his robes, Byakuya flicked his wrist, moving the tail of his scarf over his shoulder so that it billowed out behind him.

He pivoted on his heel and then exited the door with the grace in which he'd entered.

Renji stood there, at a loss for words. His blood boiled with such fury he would have tailed the upper-classed male had common sense not told him otherwise. There would be a time to confront Byakuya Kuchiki, but today was not that day. A part of him felt the right to affirm his place in Rukia's life to this impertinent, poised, refined man.

However, it was useless. He could no more move Byakuya Kuchiki than he could change the tide.

One day, he would show that man that even in spite of the fact he presided over Rukia in every specific area, Renji had known her on a deeply personal level. He had known her in ways that a Kuchiki couldn't comprehend. They taught her proper stature, eating habits, how to speak, repitition, repitition, repitition.

But in Hanging Dog, they had either stolen to survive or starved. Nothing had ever been routine. They had all just improvised with what they had. Etiquette? Pfft. In the 78th district, they had spit where they pleased, talked with a drawl, and acted like hooligans.

Of course, even though Rukia had a right hook that could knock a guy clean off his feet and she had a grough disposition, that hadn't stopped her from developing into a damn fine woman. The expectancies of a Kuchiki suited her...or so he had supposed.

When Renji had let her go, he had never realized how much space it would place between them; he had never realized how much she would change.

He knew the differences between them were great, there were lines that he couldn't cross...yet he found himself holding onto his faith. He had done this so they could have a better chance for a future together, so she could have nice things, so he could get his education. Yet everyday that self-delusion dwindled a little more.

It had all started when she joined the 13th divison.