Chapter 1: Echoes of the Past

Inhuman cries of pain echoed throughout the empty desert, shattering its calm peace. Slowly sliding his dark blade from his last victim's abdomen, he watched as the body fell limply onto the battlefield, with surprise still etched on his face, as if he still could not believe that he, along with his fallen comrade, were all dead.

All of them delivered into the world of eternal slumber by none other than the Ryoka of Seireitei, Kurosaki Ichigo.

Pushing the tip of his sword into the shifting sand beneath him, he wrapped both of his hands around the hilt tightly before allowing himself to rest his body's additional weight onto the sword.

On this particular night, dark clouds surrounded the moon, encasing her within armor and effectively dimmed her bright rays. This coupled with his excessive loss of blood, made the scene before him to appear hazy and surreal. Panting of exhaustion, he wearingly shook his head, refusing to yield to his fate.

He made a promise to his mother on her deathbed; he will not die on the battlefield.

He will die of old age in his own abode, surrounded by friends and relatives alike.

And as a Kurosaki, he must always honour his promises, especially to his deceased loved ones.

This is not your time to die, Ichigo. Focus.

Hardening his resolve, he tried to make out the bleary scenes before his very eyes, but to no avail. With every passing moment, he was losing more of his vision. Exhaustion and fatigue was catching up fast. Unknowingly, he was already down on his knees. On the verge of collapse, he clung onto his sword like a lifeline.

Don't faint on me, you hear. You're Kurosaki Ichigo, Ryoka of Seireitei. You're stronger than this. Hang in there.

A sudden movement to his right caught his interest. Concentrating on whatever vision he was left with, he could remotely make out the shape of a human wearing white kimono. He suppressed a bitter chuckle.

Was this the end for him? Was Kami-sama sending him a Shinigami to accompany him into the realm of dead?

No, I will not die. It doesn't matter whether it's a human or a Shinigami. I'll just have to kill all of them.

XXXX

Gripping his sword with a deathlike grip, he pushed himself up into a standing position. He winced at the injuries he received, but still managed to pull his body together into a fighting stance.

Ignoring his body's protest, he abruptly turned his entire body towards the new comer who was inching towards him. As quick as a flash, he pulled out his sword, its dark blade gleaming with the prospect of fighting a worthy opponent.

Pointing the sword maliciously at the new comer's throat, his usual molten orbs of amber turned into specks of golden yellow. Finding it difficult of raise his head up, he simply looked at the ground while addressing the newcomer.

He said in an emotionless voice, "take one step closer, and I will kill you. I don't care whether you're dead or alive. Even if you are a woman or a child, I will not hesitate to strike. Did Aizen sent you here to fight me?"

The stranger took another step forward. Without warning, Ichigo struck. His blade sank itself deep within the stranger's throat. Staring at the sand, he could see blood specks forming on the sand. He frowned at the lack of resistance when he sank in the blade.

Intrigued, he painfully raised his gaze upwards, only to have his eyes widen in confusion as he saw the crumpled form of a woman lying in her own pool of blood. A woman he loved and cherished, a woman who taught him how to love, a woman who shared his same pair of amber orbs, a woman he made a promise to on her deathbed.

XXXX

"Kaa-chan," he noted in disbelief, as he saw her lying down on her back. Her eyes were wide open and accusing, her auburn hair and her previously white kimono were all tainted with dark, oozing blood pouring out from her throat.

He dropped his sword and kneeled down to her immobile form on the sand. Desperately trying to atone for his sin, he grasped her hand in his own, mumbling incoherent sentences of forgiveness. Streaks of tear slid down his cheeks, but his mother still remained impassive to his actions.

"I'm sorry, kaa-chan. I really didn't mean to do it. I thought you were… someone else. Please, forgive me. I beg you," he murmured while pressing kisses onto her left hand.

Suddenly, he felt a strong slap on his left cheek. His cheek stung and he lifted his left hand to his cheek, somewhat dumbfounded by what that had just occurred. Feeling a strong grip on his right hand, he saw his mother's right hand extending outwards.

"Look at me," came his mother's cold voice. He obeyed as he redirected his gaze onto his mother's face.

From her cut throat, he could see a fine amount of blood still oozing out but the rest had dried, her mouth that used to sing him soothing nursery rhymes as he drifted off to sleep was pressed into a thin line, and her eyes, her kind and warm butterscotch orbs were reflecting so much hatred, pain and disgust.

All of these terrible feelings directed towards him. He loathed himself.

Staring accusingly at him, she spat at him.

"This is all your fault, Ichigo. I will never forgive you."

"Kurosaki, wake up! Wake up, you lazy excuse of a commander!"

XXXX

Feeling a sharp pain on his head, he instantly jerked awake. A light sheen of sweat covered his body. His eyes were wild and searching. Panting, he could feel his heart thumping madly against his ribcage. Propping himself up into a sitting position, he hissed in pain. Some of the injuries that he received during the duel with his deceased future father-in-law still had not recovered.

Seeing the familiar scrolls of battle reports and maps littered around him, he was relieved to know that he was simply dreaming just now.

No more dead bodies, Aizen or unpredictable weather conditions in the middle of Hueco Mundo. Instead, he was here in his study room in Eastern Seireitei, tucked in warm winter clothes and sitting behind his sturdy workbench, hearing the warm cackling of fire in the background while examining the various battle reports flooding in from the rest of Seireitei. For now, Kurosaki Ichigo is alive and well.

Death can wait another day.

Slowly, he eased himself up from his oak wooden chair and placed his hand wearily on his sore neck. Twisting his head to his sides, he attempted to sooth the aching knots on his neck. He chided himself for sleeping in a sitting position that ended up aggregating his other injuries. Stupid pain. Crazy dream. I need sake.

"What do you want, Ishida?" asked Ichigo with more force than necessary.

Irritated, he gruffly addressed the raven-haired bespectacled man standing in front him.

Under normal circumstances, he would have addressed his brilliant tactician more politely. After all, this was the man who helped him conquered most part of Northern and Western Seireitei. It was under his guidance that he managed to have such a successful military campaign.

Unfortunately, Ichigo was still badly shaken after that particular nightmare. Ishida Uryu just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"You mean other than to escort you to the banquet under your father's order, nothing really," said Uryu monotonously. After spending more than a decade by his side, Uryu could read his commander's mood better than anyone else could.

Judging by his haggard expressions and his painful moaning just now, Uryu could see that his commander just had a nightmare. It is best to just leave him be until he calms himself down, he thought.

Despite his fierce reputation on the battlefield, Uryu knew more than anyone else that Ichigo's dreams are constantly haunted by nightmares, and he sees the nightmares as his ultimate weakness. A proud man like him would rather die than share his weakness, so he puts on a mask of indifference and a barrier between his heart and the outside world.

To Ichigo, acting gruff and rude, especially after nightmares is simply one of his defenses to protect himself.

To show the world, that he was fine on his own and that he was strong.

Kurosaki Ichigo, you're the biggest idiot in the world.

XXXX

"Che, who in the right mind would go to that banquet? Knowing old goat-chin, he probably brought along a sea of sake and all the courtesans in Seireitei. As soon as I show my face, he'll start the whole lecture about the importance of giving him grandchildren and crap. I am not in a mood to deal with him."

"Well considering you're his only son, I really don't think that he went overboard this time. Isn't it normal to have fathers throwing a banquet for their sons on the eve before his marriage?"

Ichigo snorted, "Normal? Oh please, Uryu. You've spent fourteen years in the same household as him, and have you ever once known him to act normal or serious."

"Well there was the time when…when...."

Ichigo's right. Raking through his memory, he couldn't even think of a single incident that portrayed Kurosaki Isshin as a serious, responsible adult. In fact, Ichigo and he always had to bail him out of tight situations. Adjusting his spectacles, he grudgingly nodded his head in agreement. "Good point."

"Glad you see it my way." Shivering slightly, Ichigo glared at the passing snowflakes and cursed at the early winter this year.

"Stupid winter. The heavy snowfall had been nothing but a nuisance to our military campaigns. At this rate, we'll have to wait until next year before we could cross Hueco Mundo and claiming Southern Seireitei. If only the damn fools will hurry up and finish the bridge in time."

"Ichigo, Western Seireitei is facing a famine. If we continue your foolish attempts for constructing a bridge that would link us to Hueco Mundo of Southern Seireitei, there will be a good chance of us having to face both Aizen's army and the uprising of old nobles in Western Seireitei by next month. Why not take this time to let the men have some rest, by early spring we will have no problem with our manpower supply. Lure Aizen into a false sense of security and we strike when we're prepared. Besides, we need to have the Kuchikis' on our side. They're without doubt the best experts at fighting desert skirmishes after all. Take this opportunity to earn their trust."

Pausing momentarily for breath, Uryu continued in a clipped tone.

"Besides, Orihime wants you to taste her new frozen mustard with cranberry. You can't taste it if you're five hundred miles away, and if you can't taste it, Orihime would be very disappointed. As her husband, I would do everything within my power to make her happy. That includes abandoning my post as tactician, just to stall you long enough to remain here throughout the entire winter."

Ichigo chuckled.

"Is that true? The great Ishida Uryu would willingly abandon his commander and best friend just because his wife told him to keep his commander long enough to taste her new recipe. Somehow I find that hard to believe."

"Why not? Isn't it quite normal to do that for someone you love? You're getting married tomorrow. You will have someone to confide your secrets and weaknesses with, who will stand by your side no matter what the situation is."

Suppressing a snort at his friend's naïve outlook of marriage, Ichigo continued. "Uryu, you are without doubt one of best military tacticians of all time, a precious asset to my army, but please spare me your love advices. I'll take your advice to postpone the attack on Southern Seireitei, we will strike five months later. Meanwhile, take another two thousand men to work on that bridge."

Perplexed, Uryu asked, "Two thousand men? But I thought you agreed to my advice. Why take another two thousand men? The condition at the edge of the lake is getting worse. At this rate, most of them will freeze to death in the blizzard."

"Because my dear Uryu, you said it yourself, we have to lure Aizen into a false sense of security. Let him think that we're desperate to cross over to Hueco Mundo for now. Aizen is a sly fox and to catch a sly fox, you have to set a cunning trap. Compared to the unification of Seireitei, those two thousand soldiers mean nothing."

Uryu's eyes widened in disbelief, is the man standing opposite him really the same Kurosaki Ichigo who spent his childhood with him and who swore to uphold truth and justice no matter what happens, and to change the tyrant ways of the old Seireitei Kingdom.

XXXX

Ichigo, you've changed. You're no longer the child who challenged the authority of other kingdoms, just to make sure that its people have a better future. This is now the Ryoka of Seireitei and Shinigami talking, driven by the insane need of revenge.

I hardly recognize you anymore. You have really become a monster.

However, if fate really wants me to help you unify Seireitei.

Then so be it...

XXXX

"Uryu," Ichigo said suddenly, startling him from his train of thought. Scrutinizing Uryu from his neatly trimmed black hair to the soles of his white boots, "You look like you're deep in thought over something. You haven't heard a word I said, have you? " Ichigo commented.

"Sorry, what were you saying just now?" asked Uryu who jumped back in surprise when he noticed that Ichigo's face was merely inches away from him.

"I said let's go get some sake," Ichigo replied.

"Sake?"

"Yes, Uryu. Sake," replied Ichigo rolling his eyes dramatically. "You know, alcoholic beverage made from rice. Rangiku's favourite drink. Geez, for a self-proclaimed genius strategist, you sure are dumb."

Insulted, Uryu narrowed his eyes before answering Ichigo in an exasperated tone. "I know what sake means, you idiot. What I mean is how do you get sake? Didn't you say your dad brought along a sea of sake to the banquet? I thought you didn't want to go to the banquet, and-"

He continued after glancing at the several used bottles of sake littered around carelessly on Ichigo's workbench. "Don't you think you had enough already? You do remember you're getting married to the Western Seireitei princess tomorrow, right?"

Unperturbed, Ichigo answered with an equally annoyed tone. "Uryu, there's always more than one way to get sake. Besides, me getting married tomorrow makes it a memorable occasion. All the more reason to get drunk, Uryu. I don't want to face a disgusted bride while I'm somber."

"How can you guarantee she'll be disgusted? For starters, you haven't even met her yet, maybe you're one of those cliché love-at-first-sight cases."

Whirling around, Ichigo looked at Uryu suspiciously as if he had suddenly grown another head before bursting into full-blown laughter.

"God, Uryu. You've been spending too much time with Orihime. Do you seriously think I'm one of those type of people? Besides, why wouldn't she be disgusted? She's getting married to the very person who murdered her father."

Sighing, Ichigo raised his head heavenward, glaring softly at the moon maiden before continuing in a somewhat bitter tone.

"Make no mistake, Uryu. When old goat-chin married my mother, that was for love, when you married my cousin Orihime, that was for love; when I marry Kuchiki Rukia of Western Seireitei, it's for political and financial reasons. It's a marriage of convenience, a loveless marriage."

With that, Ichigo slipped on his white haori and exited the room, leaving Uryu all alone in the study room with the fire still cackling warmly in the background. Uryu made no indication of following Ichigo. Instead, he slowly walked towards the window opening. A frozen wonderland greeted him.

Somehow standing here glancing upwards at the beautiful crescent moon, made a sudden surge of unexplainable emotions coursed through his being.

Maybe it was the frozen landscape that triggered his reaction, maybe it was his ancestral Quincy bloodline calling for him, maybe he was spending too much time around his wife, but he knew one thing was for sure.

XXXX

"Kurosaki Ichigo, you're going to eat your words."

Tossing around on her futon, Kuchiki Rukia shut her eyes once again, hoping for slumber to take over soon, but to no avail. With a low growl of frustration, she angrily kicked off her blanket, causing it to land harmlessly a few centimeters away from her.

Getting up from her futon, she made no move to retrieve her blanket. Instead, she paced towards the wooden shutters. With a slight push, both halves of the shutters departed, allowing the cold winter wind and some snowflakes entry to the room.

From whence she stood, a blanket of white had covered every inch of the valley. From afar, buildings could no longer be differentiated apart from trees, save for the small consistent glow of light coming from within. Lakes and ponds were frozen overnight. All of them gleaming like brightly polished mirrors in the moonlight. So beautiful, she thought.

Words could not describe her love for winter. A ghost of a smile finally made its way back onto her face after a months' absence. Rubbing her temple wearingly, she sighed. Last month had been particularly difficult for her. Saying goodbye to her old mansion in Rukongai, Western Seireitei had been harder than she thought and the bumpy month long journey from Western Seireitei to Karakura, the capital of Eastern Seireitei had been everything but comforting.

"Rukia, why aren't you asleep yet?"

Whirling around in surprise, Rukia saw a yawning Kukaaku towering around her while rubbing her eyes. Her left hand was wrapped possessively around a sake bottle, on her right she was carrying a strange-looking bundle.

Judging by her rosy complexion, the slight slur in her voice and the bottle in her hand, she must have been out drinking. Rukia let out a sigh. She should have known a sake lover like Kukaaku would never let the golden opportunity of tasting Eastern Seireitei's famous sake go to waste.

Swaying slightly on her feet, Kukaaku leaned her back against the wall to Rukia's right. Peeking lazily through her left eye, she crumpled down onto the floor in a heap.

"You know Byakuya really loved your mother," said Kukaaku before drinking another gulp of sake. Nestling closer to the wall, she sat Indian-style on the hard wood flooring.

Rukia's eyebrows shot up immediately. Whatever possessed her okaa-sama to start sprouting off such nonsense? She shook her head. Okaa-sama must have been drunker had I thought.

Shutting the window behind her soundlessly, Rukia seated herself directly in front of Kukaaku. She gently tried to wrestle the bottle away from her mother's death-like grip.

"Come on, okaa-sama. Give me the bottle. You've had too much tonight. You wouldn't want to wake up tomorrow morning with a terrible hangover now, would you? You still have a month-long journey before you return back to Rukongai. Didn't you say you want to go home as soon as possible? A headache could slow you down." she cooed.

She smiled as she found the grip loosening itself; her sweet talk was working.

Just a few more tugs, before she can snatch away the bottle. But before she could do anything else, Kukaaku had annoyingly rolled away from her again with the bottle still clutched in her left hand. Rukia cursed at that point. She swore her okaa-sama could be so immature sometimes.

Composing herself, she extended her left hand towards her mother's in a friendly gesture. Only to have it swatted away flippantly.

Undeterred, she tried her sweet approach a few more times before her patience ran thin.

By her fifteenth attempt, she was already lunging towards her mother in frustration.

After several failed attempts at snatching the bottle away from her okaa-sama's grip, she finally admitted defeat. Sulking, she glared at Kukaaku who promptly burst in fits of giggle. Rukia inwardly cringed, until now she had never heard, much less seen her okaa-sama giggled like a little girl. It was disturbing to say the least.

Patting to the solid wooden flooring beside her, Kukaaku motioned for Rukia to take the seat. Noticing Rukia was still glaring suspiciously at her; she sighed and said in her usual confident tone.

"Rukia, just take the seat. Contrary to what you may think, I am not drunk. Far from it, in fact. I think I can hic- still take a few more hic-shots of sake before I'm really hic- drunk." She emphasized her point by taking another good gulp of sake from the bottle before setting it down to her left with an intoxicated smile on her lips.

Obeying her okaa-sama's instructions, she kneeled down beside her okaa-sama, a stark contrast against her mother's simple plop. Sitting down, Kukaaku handed her the sake bottle she had been wrestling for hours. Accepting the bottle from her mother, she noted that there was still half a bottle of unconsumed alcohol within.

Shaking the contents within, she smirked before unscrewing the cap and taking a good gulp of the liquid herself.

She regretted her decision the instant the scorching liquid entered her throat. She winced at the burning sensation she felt, but managed to force down the uncomfortable liquid into her throat without doubling over to cough.

She was never touching sake ever again.

"Okaa-sama, you are one strange person. When I wanted the sake bottle from you, you wouldn't give me. Now when I've just about given up, you give it to me without a fight," commented Rukia in a bewildered tone.

Laughing, Kukaaku snatched away the bottle from Rukia. Twirling the fragile bottle absentmindedly, she continued, "Most things in life usually happen that way. Unexpected things, miracles happen when you least expect them. Just like how your Byakuya wasn't really expecting love when he stumbled upon your mother."

Giving an unladylike snort, Rukia proceeded to eye her mother warily.

If she had a list of most avoided topics, her otou-sama would always be on top of it. Kuchiki Byakuya, she learnt from a very young age, was a complex figure with a subtle way of expressing his like and dislikes. His men and the soldiers claimed him as their proud leader who led them to victory, excluding the recent one where he perished, artisans used him as an inspiration, and her mother saw him as a devoted husband.

She saw him as a murderer of everything she once held within her grasp and the reason why she now held a cynical outlook at her world.

During her childhood, she saw little of him.

During her mother's funeral, she saw none of him.

During his funeral, she never showed up.

Years of silence and separation had estranged their father-daughter relationship.

She never did shed a single tear for him, nor did she ever acknowledge him. Rukia did not regret that, after all she couldn't very well cry for someone she never loved and in return, never loved her.

She felt angry with Kukaaku who suddenly brought up this uncomfortable topic. Folding her palms neatly on her lap, she fought hard to reign in her anger and to prevent a sudden outburst in front of her okaa-sama.

She owed her at least that much after using her emotions for her selfish means.

She enquired in a whisper.

"Why the sudden urge to mention this, okaa-sama? Why bring the dead into a conversation, when we all know there is nothing we can do or change that fact. In the end, we'll only find ourselves entrapped by our fond memories in the past. Like two sides of a mirror, we want to reach out and escape into reality, but as long as we continue to reminisce on our past, we'll always be stuck on the other side, the surreal side. It's better to forget."

Ignoring her, Kukaaku took another gulp of sake before continuing her conversation. With a shut of her eyes, she drew in a sharp intake of breath before opening her mouth.

"I married Byakuya when I was sixteen." said Kukaaku.

Alarmed by her okaa-sama's sudden confession, Rukia shifted in her seat, words were forming at the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them back. Instead, she calmly took Kukaaku's unoccupied arm and placed it with her own on her lap.

She gave a nod to Kukaaku, whose expression was unreadable in the dark room.

"My father needed an heir to continue the Shiba bloodline. We, me and my half-brother Ganju, were his only children. Ganju was deemed unsuitable to lead the clan and me, I was a woman. Have you ever heard of a woman leading a clan?"

Kukaaku inserted a hollow laugh, while Rukia tightened the hold around her okaa-sama's hand. In the end, even a strong woman like Kukaaku was a victim to sexual prejudice in her time. Rukia strengthened her resolves.

Soon, okaa-sama, that's going to change soon. I promise you.

XXXX

"Since the Shiba have been the loyal vassals of the Kuchiki for centuries, my father was very eager to arrange a marriage between me and the young head of the family. With this marriage, the two houses will be united. Also, the young and inexperienced head needed a powerful force to back him up and fortify his position. I wanted no part in this, I wanted to travel, to become the world's greatest fireworks master. My father denied me my dreams."

Sighing, Rukia asked, "Then why didn't you run away or escape? Knowing you, okaa-sama. You would rather face an uncertain future than to sucuumb to their demands."

Kukaaku answered in a nonchalant tone, "Believe me, I've tried, more than once in fact. My father was at his wit's end when my mother came forward and gave me the slap of my life. She told me, that I was lucky I was marrying into such a prominent family, that I was being a disgrace to the family name by acting so childishly. The next day, I was married to Byakuya. Two more years later, I gave birth to the heir, Kaien. Byakuya released me from my duties. After that, we were couples in name only. Kaien was going to be raised by the Kuchiki Elders. I was living in the old Shiba mansion with Ganju and given permission to further my passion for fireworks. Byakuya was away on military expeditions. We rarely saw each other. Five years later, he married Hisana-chan. I was there during the wedding. He never knew, but he was smiling, I saw him smile, when he lifted the veil and slipped the band onto her finger. A few years later, you were born. Another ten years later, Hisana-chan died. You were left in my care."

Rukia remained silent; Otous-sama who was said to be devoid of emotions was smiling when he married okaa-chan? Okaa-sama didn't marry otou-sama out of love? The Kuchiki Elders lied to her! Just have much secret was kept from her knowledge?

"Don't be surprised, Rukia. There's a lot of things those snarky old rats hide from us? For once, I actually feel happy that they're all dead. Good riddance," slurred Kukaaku who was still holding Rukia's hand.

"You don't mean that, okaa-sama. That would be very disrespectful to the dead," exclaimed Rukia.

"No," announced Kukaaku childishly while making a show of stomping her foot.

"Those rats really deserved it. They did many disrespectful things when they're alive. It's retribution to their past sins. When Hisana-chan and your stillborn brother died, they should have buried them within the Kuchiki graveyard, instead of being incinerated, without the knowledge of both me and Byakuya."

"You know what I think, Rukia? I think Byakuya placed a curse upon them that day," whispered Kukaaku conspiratorially into Rukia's ear.

Rukia dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

"Okaa-sama, be serious. Otou-sama would never curse at the very persons he was taught to respect and obey. Otou-sama hardly showed up for okaa-chan's funeral. Not much people came anyway, just the servants and some of her old friends from Kochochi."

Kukaaku frowned slightly at Rukia before replying.

"You don't know him that well, did you Rukia? Kuchiki Byakuya is a cold and aloof man, but when he loves, he loves with all his heart. When he married Hisana-chan, honour, prestige, status, money; none of it mattered. He loves her. He would have done everything in his power to make her happy."

Rukia sneered.

"Okaa-chan is dead, okaa-sama. Your grammar is at fault, you should say he loved my okaa-chan. But if he did love her, then he wouldn't have pestered her to have the son he and the rest of the family were awaiting so desperately for now, would he? As if having Kaien-dono wasn't enough, they just had to force another son out of her womb, when she was already so frail herself."

Kukaaku simply shook her head, unwilling to argue with her daughter. She continued.

"No, my grammar is perfect. He loves her because he still loves her after she was gone. For Byakuya, true love lasts forever. The day she died, was the day when his soul died. He didn't attend her funeral because her body wasn't there. When the rest of you were crying in front of an empty coffin, he was by the riverside, scattering her ashes. He was grieving so much inside."

A lone tear streaked down Kukaaku's cheek as she said that. Flustered by her tears, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Continuing in a choked manner, she rasped, "He was such a sentimental fool. When the old rats tried to burn everything Hisana-chan left behind, he fought to keep them. I guess one of his biggest regrets was being unable to save her crimson wedding dress from the fire. Hisana-chan wanted to pass the gown to you."

Fighting hard to keep her tears back, she faked a grin to cheer Kukaaku up.

"Okaa-sama, what done is done. Okaa-chan is dead. So what if I can't wear her wedding dress, I still have you here with me. Even if we never see each other again, I will think of you. Okaa-chan dying was hard, but having you as okaa-sama is already enough."

"No, Rukia, it's never enough," said Kukaaku whose tears were streaming down her cheek like waterfall. Nimbly, she grabbed the bundle that she discarded earlier on when she entered the room. She unwrapped it careful, as if she was afraid of damaging the contents within.

Once the final knot was untied, Kukaaku placed the bundle softly into her awaited arms.

With a grasp, Rukia's tears sprang free, as she realized what she held within the bundle was the white silk kimono her mother had on when she died. Taking the clothes out of the bundle, she traced her fingers lovingly across the stitched golden patterns and fingered the silky garment. She could still smell the faint scent of fresh rain and sakura from the kimono. She never thought she would see it again.

Clearing her throat, Kukaaku explained to her.

"I found this in Byakuya's wardrobe. The servants told me that Byakuya wanted to give it to you on your wedding eve, but that was before…before he died. I want you to wear it tomorrow."

Rukia was puzzled.

"Okaa-sama, this is a funeral kimono. I am supposed to wear a red wedding gown tomorrow. No one would tolerate a white garment during a wedding procession."

Giving Rukia a wink, Kukaaku smiled endearingly at her before continuing.

"That's the beauty of it. Think of the white kimono as the Kuchikis' last act of defiance, along with Sode no Shirayuki."

Rukia was speechless. Lifting the blade upwards, and feeling the sheer weight of the blade in her hands, she was honoured to say the least. Different from her twin Senbonzakura, Shirayuki was a pure white blade, though equally elegant, she was never passed down to the head of Kuchiki, instead they kept her in the ancestral family home, a token and testament to their long and ancient lineage.

"Are you sure, okaa-sama?"

"Of course, I am. With Senbonzakura broken, Shirayuki alone remains. She mourns for the lost of her twin deeply, you're the only person I know well enough to entrust her to. She is a part of your dowry, but that aside, I want you to follow your heart," said Kukaaku.

"Follow my heart?"

"Yes, follow it to where it leads you. I want you to have a chance to live your dream, instead of ending up in a loveless marriage like me. Don't feel obligated to carry out this marriage as if you owe the clan, sometimes a girl is entitled to certain acts of defiance. If Hisana-chan was alive, she would agree with me as well," finished Kukaaku.

Standing up on her feet, she wrapped her arms around her newly acquired treasures fondly before placing down directly beside her futon. Bowing deeply to Kukaaku, she flashed a genuine grin at her before grabbing the fallen blanket and drifting into slumber land.

Watching the sleeping form of her daughter curled up in her futon, Kukaaku held the bottle firmly against her lips. She took in gulp after gulps of sake, draining the whole bottle within seconds.

On the eve before Kuchiki Rukia's wedding, she drank herself into oblivion.

By the time she woke up the next morning, sprays of sunlight have already entered the room. Wincing at the strong sunlight, she turned her gaze towards the already empty futon beside her.

Kukaaku cursed. She should have known Rukia would pull such a trick. Angrily, she rushed out of her room. Rushing along the corridors, she bumped into several people, but she didn't care. She urged her legs to go faster, to catch up with Rukia.

XXXX

Byakuya, Hisana, if you can hear my plea, please make sure Rukia hasn't left yet. I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to her. Please, I beg you. Just let me see her one last time.

She arrived at the base of the stairs in huffs and pants. Frantically, she combed through the various guests present in the inn, searching for the guards that were placed for security reasons. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a group of them joking around in a corner. In less than two strides, she approached them. Grabbing the nearest soldier she saw by the shoulders, she shook him aggressively while yelling on top of her voice.

"Where is Rukia?" yelled Kukaaku.

XXXX

The startled soldier was still in a daze. Angered, she dropped him to the ground before turning her attention towards the other soldier. "Where is Princess Rukia?" she demanded in a threatening voice.

"S-she lef-t se-sever-ral ho-hours ago," stuttered the soldier. Almost instantly, Kukaaku loosened her hold on the man's collar. Sinking onto the ground, she no longer cared what was happening around her. She no longer minded the rude whispering and stares that were directed towards her. Sinking to the ground, she simply hugged her knees and sobbed.

I failed her, I was a failure as a mother. I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to my own daughter. I will never see her again.

XXXX

"Kuchiki-sama, Rukia-sama asked me to give this to you."

Feeling a nudge, she raised her head to see who was calling her. In front of her stood a young boy, no older than ten.

Fidgeting nervously, he was extending a piece of paper towards her. She recognized him as one of the stable boys. He was also a part of the entourage when they journeyed from Western Seireitei to Karakura.

Sniffing and wiping away her stray tears, she eyed the paper held in his hand disdainfully before snatching it away and dismissing him with a wave. The boy was only too eager to comply.

Unfolding the paper, her eyes stared long and hard at the characters on the paper.

I am following my heart, okaa-sama.

In the Kurosaki compound, the wedding of the century was taking place.

The bride however was decked from head to toe in white, while the guests were grumbling about the inappropriateness of the colour. The groom simply snickered, whistling for the attention of his best man standing a few feet from him. The bespectacled man rolled his eyes in exasperation.

In a simple maneuver, the groom shrugged off his original crimson robe, revealing the inky dark robe he had underneath.

Taking the bride's cool and soft hand into his own callous one, he led her towards the altar.

He couldn't see her face through the white veil, nor could she. Vows were exchanged, blessings were given. Gently, he pried off the white silken veil, exposing the beautiful face of his bride to the hungry gaze of his guests.

As the whole room of guests started giggling about how attractive both of them looked, and how prosperous their future would be, the bride and the groom were the only ones with unreadable expressions on their faces.

No smiles, no tears.

To them, the guests' chattering and claps of applause were just echoes of the wind. Blurry and meaningless.

With identical bands of metal wrapped tightly around their ring finger, they see themselves as two individuals who have entered a sealed contract. The ring was not a love symbol, but the final seal of the supposed contract.

Let the game begin…

Author's Note:

Teardrops of the Moon's first chapter! Firstly, I want to extend my apologizes towards all my fellow readers, if the story didn't live up to your expectations. Also, some characters are portrayed extremely OOC. Next, some of the wedding scenes and other practices you see here have been modified to fit my story better.

Now, give a warm round of applause to my reviewers (you know who you are)! Thank you for your support and review!

Side Note: I don't know whether I should continue on the 1st chapter of Cycle or continue with Teardrops… Also, how was my one-shot? I am somewhat itching to do another one…