A/N: My expression when I saw the reviews follows and favorites (O.O)

Thank you all so much ^^

I thought my first bleach fanfic was going to be an epic failure. Oh the relief! You guys are so awesome! :D

Lemme tell you peeps this ok. I personally don't like Orihime very much so I'm very excited to make her the bitch of the century *evil laugh* what do you say?

Enjoy!

[Edited]


Winter Heart

Chapter 2

The sun was shining unpredictably bright today. She could feel the sweat trickling down her temple and the helmet she wore made it even harder to let any wind pass though she was driving at the fastest speed, crossing the speed limit. She could feel her raven locks clinging onto the nape of her neck. The young woman could see everything pass in a blur as she compelled her motorcycle to go faster.

The cops never care anyway.

She had already finished fifteen rounds around her block –the cops would have come by now if they are ever going to. Having to create a fake ID cause she was a minor had her scowling whenever she went out to ride. Like seriously, what sort of idiot would prohibit a passionate teenager who was more than eager to ride around the country in her beautiful motorcycle just because she wasn't eighteen?! The parliament must be stupid. But then again, she could understand why there'd be such a law. If people under eighteen were allowed to drive cars and ride motorcycles then people like her dad would remain stuck in the hospital rather than helping her mother with her large business.

It wasn't like she cared about laws. She would break them if she had to. Like taking her most prized possession out on a drive every day –hiding from her parents, obviously. They'd never buy her one until she was eighteen and there still was another year to go. So, in the end, she had used her own credit card to buy one very secretly.

The raven haired teenager barely stopped herself from running into another motorcyclist that suddenly came out of nowhere. She stopped merely inches away, back tire rising while she did so.

"Watch it." A deep baritone that surely belonged to a man rang in her ears as she steadied herself.

Looking at the guy, she could tell that the he was probably around her age.

"You watch it, weirdo!" she pointed a finger at him, steadying the motorcycle by planting her legs firmly on the ground. "You jump out of nowhere and you tell me to watch it?!" the raven haired teenager demanded, narrowing her eyes though it was obvious that he couldn't see through her helmet.

Without another word, the motorcyclist rode away.

Was he challenging her?

Accepting the challenge that was unspoken between them –though it was only her who came to that conclusion –the raven haired girl didn't hesitate to drive after him, her engine purring –the sound music to her ears –as it roared to life.

For minutes it was a race between the two strangers. Somehow, along the ride where the girl sped after him, he had accepted her challenge that was blatantly visible in her body language. He had no idea why she was following much less challenging him to a race in the first place. But he gotta admit that she was one hell of a great motorcyclist.

He slowed down when they came to a river, parking it by the edge of the sidewalk and leaned against the railing. She was quick to follow.

He pulled the helmet off, revealing spiky ivory locks for her to see. Turquoise eyes gazed at her with a hint of amazement that had her rooted to the spot, leaning on her motorcycle.

"Toshiro." He extended his hand. "Hitsugaya Toshiro."

Suspense hung around her. Why did he give his name to her?

Mentally smacking herself for gawking at him, she practically jerked her helmet off and placed it on her motorcycle.

"Karin." She took his unexpectedly warm hands. "Karin Kurosaki." She tried to give him a smile of some sort but she knew she had failed miserably.

Sweet smiles were Yuzu's thing. She didn't even know why she bothered him to give one when she didn't even look up at other guys. No, wait, she did, hell she spend more time with her class boys than with girls, playing soccer and video games and she never smiled at them before. It was either a scowl or a smack behind their heads. So what made him, Toshiro Hitsugaya an exception?

Because he was drop dead gorgeous looking at her in a way that made her blood freeze with locks of silver hair clinging onto the side of his face but the rest still managed to remain spiky?

And for a moment, Karin wondered if she was looking decent enough. But the sweat running down her back and face made it obvious that she looked like a mess. Her clothes –a pair of skinny jeans with cut outs and a black jersey –weren't very feminine and she doesn't bother to dress up like her twin. The only thing that made it definite that she was a girl was her body features and long, straight black hair that fell to her mid back in a high ponytail when she took the suffocating helmet off.

"You're a good motorcyclist." He spoke, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Never seen someone who could actually beat me."

"Well." Karin grabbed the railing, a gust of wind ruffling her hair. "I spent half the day riding around."

"You look like a minor though." He narrowed his eyes at her and Karin was quick to look away from him. Not because of the topic he had gone into but because of how his look sent shivers down her spine –which was quite abnormal for her since she was literally immune to the charms of men.

"Speak for yourself." She replied curtly.

"I…" He snorted and crossed his arms smugly. "…turn nineteen this December."

She narrowed her eyes at him and Toshiro smirked. "So who's the minor now?"

"Hey! I didn't deny it." Karin shot back defensively.

"Really?" he raised his eyebrows.

"You shouldn't be so rude"

"If your tone wasn't accusing I wouldn't be."

"My tone wasn't accusing!"

"Yes it was!

"It wasn't."

"Was."

"Wasn't"

Was."

"I find this very pointless."

"They why bother replying?"

"You annoy me."

"Like I give a shit!"

"…" he stared at her. "I didn't know the Kurosaki princess had a foul tongue."

Smack!

"Fuck!"

Karin snorted.

"What the hell?!"

"You deserve it." She stuck her tongue out childishly and ran away when Toshiro prepared to run at her. Their motorcycles remained where they were parked as they ran further away.

XXXX

"Mr. Kurosaki, is this how the CEO should be acting when there is a competition right under our noses?" Ichigo imitated one of the board members as he drove back to the Kurosaki Opera after lunch. "Mr. Kurosaki, I believe you are not fit to be in the position of CEO."

The orange haired man snorted to himself.

"Man, don't they just suck?" he made a disgusted face and banged his head on the steering wheel, unconsciously speeding up.

He almost jumped out of his skin when his car crashed into another. Thankfully though, this time he was cautious enough to buckle the seatbelt.

"Shit!" he drove back a bit and watched as the expensive looking BMW howled with the contact, its headlights slightly crashed.

Ichigo was so lost in his thoughts he didn't know he had been driving by the edge of the sidewalk, and the road was steep, going downhill.

He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out.

Walking towards the car, he assessed the damage with his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Have you gone blind?!" the door of the car opened and stepped out a beautiful woman.

Eyes furious, she looked up at him. The moment their eyes met, both couldn't help but think that the other looked oddly familiar.

He noticed the dark brown stain on her pristine white crop top and eyes fell onto the double chip chocolate crème Frappuccino in her hand. He could immediately put the pieces together.

"Would you like compensation for the damage, miss?" he asked kindly, putting his sunglasses on.

Ichigo let his eyes roam down her body. Dark hair waved, lying gracefully on one shoulder. There was no hint of makeup except for a bit of lip gloss on her plush and shapely lips and her worried violet eyes glanced at her car. The crop top she wore showed her tiny waist and the sea blue boyfriend jeans hung tight on her wide hips. She barely reached his chin with the blood red stiletto-heeled platforms she wore making Ichigo wonder how short she actually was –not that she was that short but compared to the women around him, she was a tad bit shorter.

"Midget?" He asked again, not knowing he had accidently slipped.

He watched her grip on her drink tighten and her jaws tightened. The woman turned around to face him, almost snapping her neck in the process.

"Let's go to the police station!" she declared, glaring daggers.

"Excuse me miss but I don't think that'd be necessary. I'd gladly compensate you for your damage." Ichigo could feel the anger rising. He was politely asking her to accept his offer to repair her car and she was insisting on going to the police station for such a trivial matter. His reputation was going to take a blow if she was going to be a stubborn woman.

"What?" She placed her free hand on her hip. "Do you think by compensating for this damage…" the woman kicked her car. "…will automatically expunge the fact that you insulted me?!" she screamed at his face, her anger flaring.

Now Ichigo was puzzled.

"What? I never insulted you!" he pointed a finger at her, his cool demeanor crumbling.

"Oh really?" she shouted again before lowering her voice to a barely audible hiss. "Then what was that 'midget' you called me earlier?"

"Midget?" Ichigo looked at her like she had grown another head. "I never called you a –" just then, his memory served him with the moment he had so unintentionally spoken his thought out loud.

"Shit." He muttered.

"Shit is right, carrot top!" she smirked at him, knowing it'd hit a nerve.

"Come again?!" out of anger, he pulled his sunglasses off.

Chocolate burned into furious violet.

"Let's go the police station." She said again and jabbed a finger into his chest.

"Whoa! Hold it right there miss." He took a step back and swatted her slender hand away. "I have an important meeting I need to attend in a few minutes…" the young CEO looked at his wrist watch–obviously lying. "…and it seems I'm already late. So I gotta run along now and you miss?"

"Kuchiki."

Whoa…

"Miss Kuchiki can call me on this number if you want compensation, alright?" he pulled out a silver card from the pocket of his blazer and handed it to her.

"Sure." She chirped in a sweet voice that made Ichigo narrow his eyes. "I'll be sure to call the cops on you. The address is written here right?" she extended her hand to grab the piece of paper but Ichigo quickly shoved it back in.

It was his business card where his business number and the company name were written, down to the road where it was located. He cannot allow her to send a bunch of cops to his office demanding his presence and the old farts will be more than pleased to bring that up as an excuse to dismiss him from his position. And she was a freaking Kuchiki. All she had to was snap her fingers and it'll be done in a heartbeat.

Why didn't he bump into her of all people? Ichigo cursed his luck.

Ichigo growled inwardly as he pondered on whether or not to go with her right now –to the police station he so didn't want to say out loud, or even think about.

"Let's go." He sighed.

Rukia raised an elegant eyebrow innocently.

Ichigo felt his eyebrow twitch. The sly demon was mocking him.

"Well. Where are we going mister?" she raised both her eyebrows as she waited for his name.

"Kurosaki." He scowled.

"Where are we going to go mister Kurosaki-kun?" Somehow the name sounded familiar.

The orange haired man wanted to scream his head off and bang his head somewhere. That was the very reason he met her in the first place.

Note to self; he's never going to bang his head again. Ever!

"…"

"Well?" she batted her long lashes which he though was sort of….cute.

No fucking way!

Ichigo mentally growled.

"To..." he cleared his throat. "To the police….station." his voice decreased in volume as he finished the sentence.

"Yes. To the police station." She folded his arms across her chest, the anger back.

Ichigo stared blankly at her sudden mood swings. What was she, a pregnant woman?

He watched as Rukia opened her mouth to say something –another smartass remark, he guessed –when she frowned and reached for the back pocket of her jeans.

She pulled out her rose gold I-phone and swiped her finger on the screen before hesitantly pressing it against her ear. Ichigo watched as she closed her eyes and bit her lower lip before wincing and jerking the phone away.

Ichigo smirked.

Hats off to whoever was on the other line that was capable of making this woman a nervous wreck.

"I'm sorry." She sighed. "Yes. I'll be right there." She moved her phone again and Ichigo heard a furious 'right now' coming from the device in her hand.

She slowly limped her hand by her side, she looked up at the orange haired man; much to her shock was still in front of her.

"I'll get you one day." The ballet dancer narrowed her eyes at the man and turned opened the driver's seat of her car.

She gave him one last glare before stepping in and shutting the door with as much force as she could muster.

Ichigo gave a mock salute as he watched her drive away with a smirk on his face. He made a victory jig and opened the door to his car, whistling as he stepped in.

"Banged up car goes down." he sang as he sped up towards his office.

XXXX

Rukia was so damn angry. She had come so early in the morning for practice and it had gone until late into noon, nearly missing lunch. She had quickly gone to a nearby café to get at least something within the few fifteen minutes she had. And while she was going through her schedule, drinking her favorite drink from Starbucks, a freaking car crashed into hers, staining her treasured top. She was furious.

No, she was beyond furious.

Her car was parked by the side of the sidewalk where cars are supposed to be parked and that damn orange haired man drove right into hers when he should be driving on the road, where people are supposed to drive. The road was steep and downhill, yes, but if he was a decent driver who at least knew how to drive properly, he'd have seen her car and avoided getting outright hit, right?

But the freaking man of an idiot drove right into her car. And some nerve he got to call her midget. She wasn't small, damn it! She was average, just petite and petite girls are not short! Why do people always have an issue with her height?

Jealous perhaps?

Rukia pushed the glass doors to the Kurosaki Opera open and strolled towards the hallway right up front, passing by the gossiping receptionists at the main lobby. After rounding a corner, she came into a large room where lots of ballet dancers were, practicing. She walked by the glass wall through a door where the women's lockers were. She stopped in front of hers and punched the code in. She grabbed her clothes from the hangers and walked into the toilet in the room. In a rush, Rukia changed her clothes into a black, quarter-sleeved leotard and a black skirt that reached her knees with a slit on the side, on top of it. Grabbing a hairband from her bag, the ballet dancer tied her hair into a high bun; the bangs framed the sides of her face.

Splashing cold water to her sweat slicked face, the raven haired woman hurried back to the locker room, patting her face dry on the way. Carefully hanging her clothes in the locker, she walked into the large practice room, barefooted, with her white ballet shoes in hand.

She sat silently in a corner, putting her shoes on when a loud voice reached her ears from the other side of the room.

"Rukia!"

The said woman lifted her head up to look up at Senjumaru Shutara, a slender, beautiful woman with long black hair that was gathered on top of her head in a high bun, who was their ballet instructor.

She quickly tied the ribbons on her shoes around her shin and stood up, giving the fast approaching woman a slight bow.

"You're late!" she pointed an accusing finger at her, nearly poking her in the nose. "Get your ass over to Jeagerjaques right now!" she pointed to a blue haired young man who was leaning lazily against the mirror wall.

"Yes." She gave another bow and walked over to her partner.

The woman had been going extra hard on her since the date of the competition was announced. And having a partner like Grimmjow, the blue haired man, girls kill to get a good look at, made it easier for her. He was talented and blended with the music easily. Whether it was classical, neoclassical or romantic ballet, he learned quickly.

Another four men, who were her companions at work, walked over to her and greeted each other. The six dancers walked into another ballet studio that was right next to the large one where everyone else was.

Rukia sighed as she stared at the barre –wooden beams along the walls of the large studio. They were used as a support for warm-up exercises. Thankfully for her and Grimmjow, there was no need for that. They had mastered the art of ballet long ago and were professionals –the best the country has to offer – and simple stretches and jumps were enough for them to start on the tough practice. The other four who came with them had already finished their warm up exercises.

After she finished her warm ups, Rukia turned to face her four suitors. Kurosaki Opera had planned to play the Sleeping Beauty at the competition, and during the first play, on Aurora's sixteenth birthday, her parents introduce her to the suitors they have chosen. They begin the dance Rose Adagio, which was known to be the most notoriously difficult sequences in ballet. It was rather difficult, really. With her being Aurora, she had to master it. It was very difficult at first but Rukia had perfected it. And she still needs to practice it to be completely flawless.

"Ready, suitors?" she smirked at them, crossing her arms.

"We are when you are, butterfly." One of her suitors, Yumichika Ayasegawa replied, flipping his dark hair and sending a friendly wink her way.

She frowned at the nickname. Not like it was the first time but she still had no idea why people called her butterfly.

"Yes." A lazy voice drawled.

"C'mon Izuru, you gotta have more energy, man!" Keigo Asano, another ballet dancer with brown hair, nudged the blonde one in the ribs. "Right Mizuiro?" he turned to the remaining one with black hair.

"Just shut up, Asano." A gruff voice echoed in the silent room. "You better start practicing before Senjumaru blow you heads away." Grimmjow spoke, leaning against the mirror wall, his hands in his pockets looking bored as ever.

"The prince commands." Rukia bowed at him and laughed when he growled.

Grimmjow walked over to the theatre system in one corner and played the music for the Rose Adagio while Rukia silently snickered. She had been teasing him for getting the role of the prince who kisses Aurora awake from her cursed slumber. It was a given that he'll be the main male character since he was the best male ballet dancer.

When the music began, echoing from the all the speakers around the room, Rukia began. Standing on her toes, spreading her arms, straightening her back she flowed to the music, movements of the sequence memorized to her bones. The hardest part was where she had to balance on her toes while the other leg extended behind her with hands above her head. She had to remain in that position until all four suitors came, holding her hand for a moment before raising it up again. But what was more satisfying was the fact that her balance was getting better and better with each practice session and she was able to balance her whole body even on one leg without wobbling for a second.

But it'd take more than that to impress her ballet instructor. The woman was a monster and she'd have to remain like a doll if she were to impress her –which she was getting close to.

When she twirled, she could swear that she saw a blur of orange pass through the hallway but when she turned to look, there was no hint of anyone being there.

Shaking away the thoughts, Rukia finished the Rose Adagio and went on to practice a grand Pas de Deux with Grimmjow. It was the dance in the last act where Aurora marries the prince. The rest of the people will be doing amazurka while she and Grimmjow will steal the spotlight.

Rukia had every intention to bring the trophy to her country and she will see to it that they all perform well, and impress Senjumaru.

XXXX

Ichigo walked into his office, passing by the many practice rooms where music was booming with a handsome smile on his face. He didn't know why he was smiling in the first place. Was it because he managed to escape a visit to the police station? Or was it that woman, what was her name again, Rukia was it? Yes Rukia, the conniving and smart little she-devil who got tampered on by a single phone call? Oh the satisfaction he felt when he saw the sturdy woman so defeated. He could only wonder who that was on the other line that could keep her highness the mighty Rukia at bay.

Ichigo chuckled darkly as he rounded another corner and into another lobby where his secretary's desk was….empty.

Where'd that woman go now?

Not caring about where his secretary was off to, Ichigo opened the wooden door to his office.

He was surprised to see an auburn haired woman, her black stocking clad legs crossed, and the tip of her golden heels tapping on the leg of the glass coffee table.

"Inoue." He called somewhat surprised to see his managing director in his office without prior notice. They met at the board meeting so what could she possibly want now? Still vent her anger for leaving her as the head?

"Kurosaki-kun!" he was surprised when she jumped up, dusting her pink sheath dress as she walked over to his desk.

Her voice was chipper than usual and her eyes were almost shining with barely held excitement. Ichigo had known her long enough to that when she does, that means….

"Why don't you come over for dinner? I am planning to make…"

The rest of her words fell deaf on his ears as he stared at her, all the color draining from his face. Inoue Orihime's cooking was….how was he going to put it in words?

Her cooking was…inedible?

Too rude?

But he seriously had a hard time swallowing her food. He forced himself to eat on several occasions so he won't appear rude and ended up throwing the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

He wondered how her family managed to eat her cooking.

"So what do you say?" she asked, clasping her hands in front of her for further emphasis on how eager she was to have him for dinner.

Ichigo's throat felt dry. He wanted to deny. He wanted to deny so badly but how was he going to put the things in his mind into words? What excuse will he come up with? If she checks his schedule from his secretary it'd be the end of him –if she already has, then it's even worse because she'll definitely know that he was lying. And she as hell knew that his two closest friends were out of country.

"Mr. Kurosaki!" a feminine voice screeched and the wooden doors flung open, revealing his green-haired secretary.

Her hazel eyes glistened as she ran towards him. Ichigo was glad she had come to his rescue. Though sometimes her overly affectionate attitude annoyed him, this time he couldn't be more grateful. A smile spread slowly across his face but it swiftly turned into a scowl when she stopped way to close for his liking.

"I haven't seen you in a long, long, long time, Ichigo." She batted her lashes.

Long time? When the last time they met was before lunch?

The woman was so childish he sometimes wondered how she managed to get such a high qualification. But still, it kept the gloomy aura within the office at bay with her bubbly attitude and she was smart to enough to act like a professional in front of others, minus their friends.

Nelliel knew how Orihime was his childhood and family friend since they all attended the same high school. She probably knew about her cooking too, which wasn't really much of a surprise. Anyone who was friends with her woman knew about it.

"Will you, Kurosaki-kun?" Inoue asked again, eyes hopeful.

"Will what?" Nel asked.

"Dinner." The auburn haired woman chirped.

"Oh Orihime!" the green haired secretary gave a little pout. "Ichigo is booked to have dinner with some of the board members."

"Oh I see. Too bad then." The director's face fell.

"Next time ok?" Nel batted her lashes.

Ichigo was reminded of a certain ebony haired woman all of a sudden.

"Yeah. See you both later." She waved a little and left the room.

It was then; Nel's words finally sank in.

"Board members?" he raised a finely shaped brow.

"Yes, Mr. Kurosaki. Now, I have noticed that you have been slacking off and giving me most of work early this morning…" the green haired woman placed a stack of files in front of him, banging it on the desk. "Documents that need your approval, refusal and those that needs to be improved and edited." She smiled, her eyes glistening with mischief.

To her surprise, the orange haired man nodded, picked up a pen and opened the first file. Nelliel let her mouth hang open for a minute before walking out.

"Buzz me when you need anything, sir." She said before stepping out.

"I will."

XXXX

The days passed in a blur. Everything had been so hectic with the preparations for the competition that Rukia barely had time to do anything else –like calling the cops on a certain orange haired man. That incident still hadn't slipped her mind. She was going to find one way or another to make him pay for that insult.

She stared out of the window, her surroundings passing in a blur as they drove to the airport. There was only a week left for the competition. Rukia could feel the excitement bubbling within her to be on a stage after one long year. Kurosaki Opera had won in this specific competition in the last two years. And if they win this time too –three times in a row –Kurosaki Opera will be able to participate in the world competitions where they will have to travel all the way to America, maybe Australia too. And she as hell wasn't going to let this opportunity slip.

"Someone looks happy." The raven haired woman turned to her right and smiled.

"Of course I am, grandfather."

Ginrei Kuchiki laughed heartily.

"Good luck, Rukia." She turned to the driver's seat when a new voice spoke up.

"Thank you, brother."

Byakuya Kuchiki wasn't a person of words. So that coming from him made her extremely happy. Knowing that he was expecting her to be the winner, she felt even more confident, the determination for the trophy increased tenfold.

The remaining minutes passed with different sorts of conversations. Rukia would laugh loudly and her grandfather will chuckle while Byakuya voiced his thoughts every now and then.

When they reached the airport, Rukia waved goodbye to her family and they watched her go inside.

"Rukia-chan! Oh my gosh!" a black haired woman wearing spectacles rushed towards her. Her light blue eyes –with a hint of violet –sparkling. "We're actually going to Hong Kong!" she took her arms, jumping up and down.

"Yes, yes we are, Nanao." Rukia laughed watching her excited friend.

The rest of the team was as excited as they both were. Though China was a country she had gone on several occasions, she was still excited and eager. Because the reason she was going this time was entirely different.

XXXX

"Say, Rukia-chan, which tutu would you chose? Both of them looks absolutely adorable to me." A busty blonde hollered into her waiting room.

Rukia turned, wearing only a robe and examined the tutus her makeup artist had brought. One was pink strapless pancake tutu with golden design around the bodice and hem. The other one was sky sky-blue bell tutu with off shoulder sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. There were silver ornaments on the bodice and waistband which glistened under the lights.

"This one, Rangiku." Rukia pointed to the bell tutu that looked more appealing than the pink pancake one.

"Alright! Let's get you done."

Rangiku Matsumoto, her makeup artist and costume manager clasped her hands excitedly, placing her hands on the ballet dancer's shoulders, making her sit in front of the large dressing table. There were a number of brushes, eye shadow palettes, lipsticks, glosses, eyeliners, different shades of foundations and every other sort of makeup that was available in the market spread before her.

Rangiku toned her face and neck with foundation and powder that made her already pale skin turn white. Makeup for ballet performances had always been very extreme and it was no surprise to her when the makeup artist applied shining silver eye shadow on her outer lid down to the middle lid where she changed to sky-blue on the inner lid and inner corner of her eyes. The blonde applied grey eye shadow with a mixture of shining black and dark blue on the outer corner of her eyes and a little bit of silver on her lower lash line. Rangiku then applied a tint of pastel pink on her cheeks after applying dark mascara to her long lashes, that made her face look younger than she already was and livelier. She proceeded to her lips and applied a long-lasting blood red lipstick.

"Ta-da!" the woman exclaimed after she was done.

Rukia opened her eyes to look at herself and was amazed at her perfect, flawless handiwork. Rangiku had been her makeup artist and costume manager since she first debuted and every time she finished her work, she always managed to render Rukia speechless.

There was a knock on the door and both women turned to look at the assistant who poked his head in.

"We start in thirty minutes." He informed with a smile and shut the door.

"Time for the dress." Rangiku chirped and pushed Rukia behind the changing screen.

She put on her white, sheer pantyhose on and wore the dress over her head. It fit her form perfectly, bringing out the curves of her body. Rangiku came and adjusted the tutu from behind and fastened the ties into a bow at the small of her back.

They went back to the table where the blonde carried on with styling her hair. Straightening Rukia's dark locks Rangiku pulled her hair into a high, tight bun, wrapping a white ribbon over the hair band. She brushed her bangs and pulled it back with a blue headband that acted as a crown, silver ornaments decorating it with an oval shaped sapphire in the middle.

"All done!" the busty woman clapped her hands gleefully. "All you have to do is now conquer that stage and grab what belongs to you." She squeezed her bare shoulders, handing her the white pointe shoes.

"Good luck, Rukia-chan!" Rangiku gave a thumb up, followed by a wink.

"Thank you, Rangiku." Rukia smiled at her.

There was another knock on the door.

"You're on in five minutes." The same assistant of Kurosaki Opera informed.

Brushing her tutu, Rukia walked out of the door, Rangiku following close behind. By the time she was at the backstage, standing behind the curtains, the prologue was already underway. She had to agree that Riruka posing as Carabosse –the evil witch – was pretty good and entertaining to watch. So much for arguing with Senjumaru that she won't play the evil witch. She couldn't help but chuckle.

Kurosaki Opera was the last to perform and the audience looked every bit excited, enthusiastic and thrilled with the new display of classical ballet.

Rukia watched as the play turned into the ball of Princess Aurora's sixteenth birthday where she makes her appearance in the first act. The time when the four suitors came into view, she danced onto the stage.

The spotlight turned on her. She heard gasps, murmurs, whistles and claps.

Rukia danced. With every bit of confidence and determination to win the competition.

After all, her goal was to be the prima ballerina assoluta.

The absolute number one ballerina in the world.


A/N: How was it? I hope this chapter was to your expectations :D

Please pretty pretty please forgive me for the many mistakes that are in this chapter –you already know why, right :P

Anyway, please read and review. I'd love to hear your thoughts and suggestions.

Ja!