"I see," said Byakuya, standing. "If you'll excuse me."

Ukitake nodded, but as Byakuya turned to leave he said, "Byakuya."

Byakuya turned.

"I truly am sorry," said Ukitake. There was a bloodied handkerchief on the floor by Ukitake's feet, partly tucked under the edge of the blanket; as soon as Byakuya saw it, he averted his eyes. "Please tell your sister that I will always be happy to see her, if she stops by."

Byakuya straightened his sleeves. "I will," he said, and left the dense air of Ukitake's office.

The corridors of the barracks were vacant, lacking the hustle and bustle Byakuya knew from his own division; his footsteps, light as he knew they were, sounded like hammerfalls on the polished wooden floor. Ukitake's subordinates were avoiding him.

He came across Hinamori again not far from the barracks' main entrance. She was carrying a tray with tea, but she'd obviously thought he was already gone; the tray rattled in her hands when she turned the corner and saw him.

"Hinamori-fukutaichou," Byakuya said. "You were a classmate of my sister, were you not?"

"Yes, Kuchiki-taichou," said Hinamori. Acrid-smelling steam curled from the spout of the teapot.

Byakuya allowed his hand to knot into a fist in the privacy of his sleeve. He greatly disliked the necessity of asking the question, but it was a necessity. "Do you recall any friend of my sister's who has since withdrawn from the Gotei 13?" he asked.

"No, Kuchiki-taichou," said Hinamori.

As a noble, he'd been taught to spot deceit; Hinamori was not a good liar, though apparently she was a loyal friend. "That is all," Byakuya said.

He continued on, striding as quickly as possible until he was off the thirteenth division grounds. The wind was bitter, but after Ukitake's office its sharpness was welcome.

What would Rukia do in such a situation? Who were her friends, other than Ukitake and Hinamori? He had spoken with her so seldom recently. Byakuya knew that she was a registered member of the Shinigami Women's Association, but he had never known her to speak of Ise or Matsumoto or any of the other women there.

In the end, the only place Byakuya could think to look for Rukia was the manor.

Byakuya pushed past the great doors of his mansion and hurried to Rukia's bedroom, ignoring the figures of the servants that he passed by. The door of Rukia's room was open—but she wasn't there.

It seemed no different than it ought to be, although Byakuya was hardly familiar with its usual appearance.

Except that her shihakusho, neatly folded, was there in the center of the floor. And next to it rested a letter.

He picked up the letter, unfolded it carefully, and read it.

With my whole heart, I am grateful for everything you have done for me, and I am sorry to leave in this way, without speaking to you in person. I will always remember the years I have spent here with admiration for your unending kindness.

I have returned to Rukongai, and I am leaving my Kuchiki name here. Please do not try to find me. I think it would be best for the world to forget that I was briefly a Kuchiki.

Thank you so much, again. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate everything you have done for me, and I am sorry that I have nothing to give you in return.

Thank you, Kuchiki-sama.

- Rukia.

Byakuya pulled open drawers: her perfectly folded kimono, the beautiful obi he'd given her when she attained shikai, the collection of elegant jewelry that she never wore . . . it was all undisturbed. A single one of those earrings could have bought her food and shelter in Rukongai for years, and she'd left it all.

The only possessions he noticed missing were a few of those trinkets with the rabbit character that he saw her with occasionally.

He would have searched for her anyway. Almost would have sent his servants out into Rukongai and told them not to return without information. If it weren't that . . . Kuchiki-sama. That was what she had written.

He folded the letter into his kosode and closed the doors to the room behind him.

The next day, he returned to work, keeping on with his duties as though he couldn't hear the whispers that followed him. He went to captains' meetings and instructed his household staff and disciplined Kotetsu when she came in drunk to work.

He was well aware of the glances he received from the people of the manor. They had opposed Rukia's adoption from the start. At nights, he closed himself in his own chambers, wishing for nothing so much as to be able to tell them all to leave. Let the lamps go out, and leave him undisturbed. But this was something his obligations would never allow.

In the end, as much as he had tried to stop Rukia from following that path he knew too well, she had followed it all the same, to an end that he had not anticipated. Even her words had been her sister's. Did he really love so recklessly? What was it about his fate that pressed these same events into being, not once, but twice?

Rukia had left, and that part of him that had been her brother was gone with her. No longer to be called Nii-sama. No longer to take pride in the loveliness of her Zanpakuto or her excellence in Kido or the good reports Ukitake made of her. No longer to hold the duty of protecting a younger sister.

Hisana had asked him to take Rukia in as his sister, and he had broken that promise. And yet, as much as he dwelt on his breach of the promise, he thought of the loss of his sister. No matter how many times she called him Kuchiki-sama, he could only think of her as his sister. Just as Hisana would always be his wife.

Weeks passed, and the whispers faded. The first snow arrived, a new delight that had Zaraki's daughter squealing with joy as though she had not seen snow fall for decades past. It was possible, thought Byakuya, that the child did not remember. Memories seemed ephemeral for her.

That day, Byakuya received a note from Aizen inviting him to lunch at his division, as he wanted to ask Byakuya's advice about a class on flash steps Aizen had been asked to teach at the Academy—and, of course, Byakuya was considered to be the fastest at flash steps in the Gotei 13.

Byakuya replied in the affirmative, as it was expected of a captain to assist other captains when necessary, but it wasn't until he reached the steep steps at the Second Division's entrance that he realized: he hadn't seen the second division since Shihouin Yoruichi had been its captain. In his memory, the grounds had been green; it must have been summer, or at least spring. Now they were silvered, made delicate with ice.

A masked subordinate showed him in, and Byakuya seated himself opposite Aizen. There was a sense of calm activity in the barracks, like being inside the workings of a clock: constant quick movement, but with certainty, and no excessive haste. For the first time in a long time, Byakuya felt at ease; as long as the Onmitsukido was being run well, Soul Society was safe.

Except . . . he recalled the records he had found that night. In the weeks since then, those records had been on his mind more and more often.

"And how are affairs in the sixth division?" Aizen asked, after their discussion of flash step technique had come to a satisfactory conclusion. "I'm afraid I've spent too much time talking about myself." He smiled.

"The sixth division is operating well," said Byakuya. He considered again whether he should bring up his discovery—but if anyone in the Gotei 13 was competent to discuss the matter, it was Aizen. He felt even more certain after seeing the smooth workings of Aizen's division, so unlike the disorder that prevailed in too many others.

"However," Byakuya began, "there has been a significant increase in withdrawals over past decades. Not only in my own division, but across the Gotei 13. It is in the Kuchiki family records." He paused. "I have found this to be a matter of concern."

Aizen put down his chopsticks. "I, too, am concerned," he said, all trace of levity gone. "We have been tracking the increased withdrawals for some time." He looked up. "Kuchiki-taichou, I know you will not disseminate any information I reveal."

"Of course."

"Thank you," said Aizen quietly. "Then I will continue: we were able to stop Ise Nanao because we had suspected her disloyalty for some time. But the dissent was not ended with her capture. Kuchiki-taichou, as much as I regret to say it: there has been an insurgence brewing in Rukongai and the lower ranks of the Gotei 13 ever since the rebellion a hundred years ago. We believe it began with supporters of those original traitors, but it continues to spread even now to those who would overturn the rule of the Central 46 and Captain-Commander Yamamoto."

"So, those withdrawals . . ." said Byakuya.

Aizen nodded. "Some of them are shinigami who are dissatisfied with the operation of today's Gotei 13, but many of them withdraw to join the insurgence. And, even worse," he said. "We believe that at least one of the current Gotei 13 captains is the leader of this new treason."

Author's note:

Please review—I love getting feedback!

Oh my gosh, this chapter was SO hard to write. I have been lacking inspiration for the past week, plus it's hard to write Byakuya angsting because he's so stoic, but I do think he has a lot of feelings that he keeps locked up. So, anyway, I'm sorry if this chapter is below usual quality.

A couple of things: 1) Apparently Ukitake does call Byakuya "Byakuya"! I encourage you to read Chapter 134, in which Byakuya is a total bitch to Ukitake. I would put a heart here but won't let me. 2), if you're thinking, "Wait, Rukia would never leave the Gotei 13!" or something like that—well, that's good. It's supposed to be shocking and surprising! 3), I am trying super hard to keep people in character despite the AU setting. Let me know if you think I'm getting too off-course anywhere!