With all the extra missions her captain had been sending her on, coupled with the late night calls she got from random Hollows, she nearly collapsed once she arrived at the Kuchiki manor. She entered the front in a sort of daze, her eyes and mind scrambling and frying in an attempt to make sense of where she was. (It wasn't her fault the last sleep she got was over nineteen hours ago, and even then it wasn't a good three hour nap.)
She rubbed at her eyes; and when she pulled away, she found her brother standing in front of her. Her mouth fell the slightest bit agape, as if attempting to speak but instead having words fail.
The exhaustion coursing through her veins told her to walk; after all, just a few feet in some direction would lead her to a comfy bed, hopefully her own. Instead she found her mind once again whirling; she wasn't sure which door to the manor she entered through, and she certainly didn't want to end up on the opposite side and have to travel all the way back. She was certain her eyes wouldn't stay open that long.
And then her thoughts, which stayed focused on her directions for mere seconds, traveled back to her brother. She felt embarrassed to have him see her like this.
"I'm sorry, Brother."
It was laced with a certain defeated quality. And while his sister was too tired to notice any physical cues, he was met with a worry that led him to grab her shoulders. With his normal, stoic voice, he spoke.
"When was the last time you slept?"
Her eyes, going wide with a sudden pulse of coherent activity, instantly retracted from his. "I'm fine, Brother. It is nothing to worry about."
He paused a moment. If she had been sleeping regularly, he would not have been met with such avoidance. It further peeked his un-showcased concern. He rephrased the question.
"How long were you out for?"
He felt her shoulders tense. She couldn't avoid this question; not with its strictly work-related tone.
"What time did you leave?"
It was dark outside and had been for a good five hours. At two in the morning, Byakuya couldn't hide that he had been waiting up, partially due to an extra workload from his chaotic lieutenant and more prominently from the realization that he had not seen his sister all day.
"Seven this morning."
He didn't bother to correct her tense, that it was the following day already. He quickly counted the hours, arriving at an unnerving nineteen.
"Before then, what time did your last outings end?"
She took a moment; and he realized it was not majorly due to her complete hesitancy to answer, but because she had to think, the hours having molded and sloshed together to create one elongated mission that never seemed to be complete.
"Earlier this morning, about four."
While she spoke, an arm raised up to her face and rubbed at her eye. A sigh passed her lips, but she refused to succumb to sleep standing up, despite the slight daze her mind refused to jump out of.
When her sight returned to her brother once more, his arms were dropping from her shoulders. However, instead of simply departing as she had assumed, he grabbed for her hand, and gently pulled her along. "Come."
She complied, hesitantly. Her legs refused to truly comply, and she was left to mentally will the limbs to move, the weight carrying a resemblance to cinder blocks, in her opinion. Despite her difficulties, her brother did not rush ahead. He remained more-so to her side, as opposed to walking ahead of her like a guide. His attention remained rooted on her, searching for any other troubles she may have had. Her jelly-like and uncooperative legs were enough to bring worry to the overly calm-and-collected man.
He was lucky she entered the manor where she did; her room was closest to this entrance from most of the others, and, on stable legs, would have taken no more than thirty seconds. Their journey took double the time, if not more; but nevertheless, Byakuya was glad when he was able to pull back her screen door and be greeted by Rukia's already made futon.
Gently, he set her down on the plush material. In a moment, his mind went to her clothes; their appearance was a harsh contrast to the fluffy and welcoming nature of her bed. Releasing her hand, he turned to a dresser in the corner of her room, a pile of more suitable sleeping ware laid atop.
"Rukia-" The clothes already in his hands, he stopped at the sight as he faced his sister once more. Eyes closed, her head hung slightly, Rukia was asleep. While she had been in a noticeable half-asleep state, he hadn't expected her to fall out so suddenly. He returned the materials to the dresser; he would not be waking her simply to change clothes. No matter the amount of blood, sweat, and grime that remained on the clothes she currently wore, she would sleep just as peacefully with the amount of sleep her body desired.
Carefully, placing one hand behind her back and the other on her stomach, he shifted her to lie flat on the bed, her head dipping into the feather-like pillows. His hands then reached for her legs, which he lifted from their dangling position off the side to a straighter position on the bed. He slowly pulled her shoes off and set them at the foot of the bed.
A content sigh passed her lips, and her hands, without a true reason, transferred from her sides to her head and stomach, one palm facing upward and the other downward, respectively. A pause, and then he stepped out of the room. A maid was awake in the opposite room, ending the early morning shift before retiring for bed herself.
"How may I help you, Lord Kuchiki?"
"Keep this house as quiet as possible for the next twenty four hours. If that means that a certain job cannot be fulfilled, leave it unfinished."
"Yes, sir. I will inform the others immediately."
He watched the lady leave with steps filled with purpose, and then found himself pulled back into Rukia's room. Not five minutes had passed since sleep claimed her; and while he desired with his being to refrain from disturbing her, he found himself pulling the forgotten covers from the end of the futon on top of his sister, to the middle of her stomach. If she wished for further coverage, she could always do so herself.
He waited to see if a reaction would spurn from her; and when nothing of the such greeted him, he bent down and pulled a discarded cushion at the foot of the futon to the side. Keeping his movements slow and silent, he sat down at her bedside, watching his sister with a worry that he found solely reserved for her.
End