A/N: More? Or have you had enough?

The Irony of Being Poor

The cafe was quiet as the sun began to warm the tabletop before the woman in the dusty pink blazer.

Her hands were shaking.

She looked up as a petite girl with short black hair and brave violet eyes headed her way, her small hands instinctively scrunching up the blue restaurant apron she was wearing as she dried her hands.

"Hi, how are you today?"

Momo couldn't find it in herself to answer with more than a weak attempt at a smile in return.

The waitress didn't miss a beat when she noted the response. "Looks like you need a heavy coffee to get you ready for the day, huh?"

Nodding, she uttered her order (toast and heavy black coffee) and took to looking out the cafe window at the people passing by. It was early Wednesday morning and she wasn't particularly looking forward to going through with her day. Still, she had already taken two days off and another would be unprofessional of her as a secretary.

She tried to block out her reflection: the bags under her eyes, the lack of brightness in her gaze, the paleness of her skin.

The last time she had looked this bad was when she had. . . began things with Sousuke.

She shivered.

He had used her, had extorted her in every way he possibly could. Even after he had been placed behind bars, she still couldn't help but look over her shoulder and fear at seeing his smiling face and the hand extended out to her.

Before she could possibly think of more ways to torture herself, the waitress came back and set down the steaming cup and a plate down beside it in front of her.

"Thank you."

"It's no problem. Oh," She dug a hand into one of the apron pockets and pulled out a handful of sugar packets and tiny cream cups, "here you go."

Momo couldn't help noting the twinkling gem on her finger. Following her gaze, the young woman smiled. "Going to be a wifey in a few months."

Her bright smile was just as contagious as it was painful. Momo could remember when she had also once had a ring on that finger, when she wondered how many children she would have and if any would have their father's piercing icy gaze--something she had never even began to dream about with Sousuke.

"It's beautiful, congratulations." She managed to grit out.

"Thanks. I'll let you eat now." The waitress said, grinning sheepishly as she blushed. "If you need anything, let me know."

Nodding, Momo watched her leave and turned her attention back to her breakfast.

After her boyfriend had been caught by the police in some illegal business deals, Momo was left on her own and with no money. What had saved her had been the few connections who had been nice enough to have mercy on her and give her a job back after she had thrown caution to the winds and let her affair become her life. She had left a loving fiance, a great job, and a loving home behind.

All for Sousuke Aizen.

For a while her life had been as glamorous as she had dreamed it would be. She would wake up in his arms, spend time out with his credit card (which he deemed limitless for her), and come back right before he would so that she would be at the door to welcome him home.

It seemed simple enough.

Then one day, she came home to find police talking to their butler. When she stepped out and demanded to know what was going on (like a good wife and housekeeper would do of course), her eyes widened to see her husband sitting in the back of one of the cars with his best friend Gin in another.

They didn't look at her.

In fact, it almost looked like they weren't really bothered by the matter.

Of course, being with such people had its effects on her life as well. The mansion she had grown used to was taken away--as was everything she had owned. She even had to be taken in as a suspect for a while, but they eventually let her go when they realized she was nothing but the stupid girlfriend for show.

Because now she realized and accepted that.

She had never failed to question why out of all the possible women he had chosen her. And when she was being brutally honest with herself, she could admit that she had been foolish, had left everything for him in the blink of an eye and became a pet that he could amuse himself with and have as a front to the world. To others they looked like a stable couple in love and about to get married, someone who would form the picture perfect family with a wife who had no idea what was really going on and never really bothering to question how exactly her card was limitless.

And then there were those nights.

They were rare, but she couldn't forget them; she never would.

There had been rare occasions when he would raise his hand to her, would leave marks that she hid under expensive clothing and the best make up. Maybe what scared her wasn't that he had the audacity to do it--but her own capacity to make excuses for him.

She always found ways to put the blame on herself for his acts.

The clink of the empty cup caught her attention. Looking down, she realized she had just eaten and couldn't even remember a bite of it. Even her stomach still felt empty.

"Another round of coffee?" She flitted in almost out of nowhere. And before Momo could even answer, she watched the waitress pour more into her cup and pull out another handful of creams.

"Seriously. This one should do the trick for you. If it doesn't, then maybe its worse than I thought." There was worry in her eyes as she smiled slightly and then left Momo alone again.

It didn't take her long to get through the second cup of coffee, and for some reason it left her more warm than she thought she could be in her current condition. It was almost as if the new day was beginning to welcome her instead of already punishing her with its passing.

Waving the waitress over, she offered her a half smile. "You were right. Second cup did the trick."

Grinning, the petite woman put the tab down on the table. "Great. I'm glad you feel better."

She paid and left as decent a tip as her small budget would allow and stepped towards the doorway with her purse in hand. As she was about to exit the cafe, she saw the other young woman pass her again and waved her aside on impulse.

"Thank you for everything, really. Mind if I know your name so I know who to ask for next time I come?"

The waitress' violet eyes widened slightly, but then she broke into a full fledged smile.

"My name is Rukia, Rukia Kuchiki." Momo nodded.

"Well," Rukia said, shrugging, "Rukia Hitsugaya if you want to start getting warmed up to it."

It felt as if someone had just released a bucket of ice water over Momo's head. Shock froze her to the spot.

Someone called to Rukia from the kitchen. Turning at the sound of her name, she didn't seem to notice Momo's sudden change.

"I'm being called, so I guess it's bye for now!" Waving, she turned and ran behind the main counter.

Momo slowly headed towards the door, numb to the sudden warmth of the sun's rays on her, or to the noise of the cars that passed by the intersection. Not even the homeless man that cursed at her for tripping over him caught her attention.

She could only think of the last name she had given up--the one a waitress in a cafe now would have with a ring to match the twinkle in her violet eyes. Only of that and the smile of a man with an icy gaze and hair as white as snow.

Hitsugaya.

Toushiro and Rukia Hitsugaya.

Walking towards her car, she couldn't really say she wished them happiness. So instead, she sat there in the morning hours when she should be fighting through morning traffic and cried.