Well. This is embarrassing.

Nearly a year without an update, and that's rather shameful for me. I honestly do try to update, because I hate getting into a story and never getting to see how it ends.

However, before I continued, I laid out a plan for the rest of the chapters. Assuming I'm able to continue updating at least once or twice a month, I should have this story done by the end of the year.

Honestly, I've never suffered from so much writer's block from a single story, it's almost painful. When I finished this, I was once again too lazy to beta. Let me know if there are mistakes (specifically) so I can change them.

And for those at this point who actually still care about where this story is going, well, let's get this long and way overdue show on the road.

Enjoy!


"We, the unwilling, led by the unknowing,

are doing the impossible for the ungrateful.

We have done so much, for so long, with so little,

we are now qualified to do anything with nothing."

-Konstantin Josef Jireček


Opposites are strange things, wouldn't you say?

They define each other, and you can't say 'black' without then thinking about 'white'. They are inherently the most different that they can be, and they can't stand to be in the same space unless a little of the other is within them.

Opposites attract, because without one, the other wouldn't exist. You, of course, know this to be true, because this story has spent so much time highlighting the way shadow complimented light. The way the clash and fight and constantly challenge the borders they set for each other is enough to prove to anyone the pure blame too opposites can impose on each other.

But not all opposites get along so harshly. Take, for example, the moon and the ocean. Their existence is pure harmony. Without the moon, the ocean wouldn't be able to dance, and the moon loves the fact it has a way to be seen on the earth without looking up.

He wasn't a bad person, Hisagi Shūhei. Rough around the edges and maybe a little emotionally detached, but on the whole, he's respected. He led with the same bravado that the old captain Tosen had – that bloodshed was the weakest form of killing. Death should be simple and neat, if even necessary.

But the only thing that ran deeper than his honor was his love for a certain woman. She was (is!) amazing, with not just looks that could kill, but a personality that invited people in. As much as all others would claim her a tease, he knew she only enjoyed having fun, even at another's expense.

He visited her once, write after the accident. He had seen the weakness in her limbs, and the shallow ashy gray of her face. He practically puked on sight, and had stumbled, weak, from the room.

Ever since that day, he hadn't come back.

"She probably misses you." Kira remarked one day when they were out training. They had been lying in the grass, taking a well deserved break when the heat of the sun beat down upon them. "You should visit her."

Hisagi contemplated that, but then shook his head. Perhaps she did miss him, but he truly didn't think she would really care. Still, he said, "alright."

He even tried a few times, but he never got closer than a few yards away. Every time he approached, the grotesque memory would enter his brain, and he had no choice to either turn away or retch.

It was where he was today, just after receiving news of his new mission. For some reason or another, he felt he owed it to the busty blonde to tell her what was happening. Despite the fact that she had had so many friends, very few dared visit her.

So he had tried. He wandered closer and closer, telling himself that the recovery wing wasn't really where he was going. It just happened to be his path. He took many detours, and stopped at modest shops along the way. Each step seemed to work.

He was nearly at the doors when his mind fully caught on to what he already knew he was going to do. He teetered on the edge, fully believing that, since he had come so far, he could go a few steps forward.

With a will power that could crush with a glance, he took a few more steps. They were tottering and unsteady, and he mightily ignored the quick glances of curious sympathy thrown his way.

But the image of her, sick and helpless in a bed, flashed in his mind. Without warning, waves of nausea slapped him hard in the stomach. His hands started to shake, and his skin went sheet white. Sweat beaded nervously on his skin, and he instinctively knew he was too weak for this. Immediately, he turned around and fled.

This time, he didn't really know where he was heading until he was standing outside of the familiar door. The way it arched and glowed with common wood was friendly and inviting in the way it promised to let him forget. Without hesitation, he held out a hand to the cool doorknob, finding the door unlocked.

"Hey, Hisagi." Kira greeted him casually, as they always did when they were alone. They knew each other well enough, that Hisagi didn't bother to knock whenever he entered the house.

To speak of opposites would be to describe the pure clashing difference between Hisagi and Kira. While Kira spoke kind and patient words to those around him, Hisagi would turn his back coldly on those whose accomplishments were too weak for him to give respect. But in battle, Hisagi was the one constantly afraid of the evil his blade could unleash, while Kira would fight with no hesitation if it meant saving lives.

They were completely different, but no two friends have complimented each other too well. As the moon and the ocean are, Kira would seek Hisagi for a reason to laugh, while the latter counted on the former for bouts of sane, conscious thought.

Upon entering, Kira immediately sensed something off in his friend. If not just for the ashen skin and dull gaze, he could see it in the way he slouched. Hisagi always strode tall, as if his hair was meant to scratch the clouds. He hardly ever walked with his shoulders so bowed, and the blonde man almost felt the waves of defeat emit from his friend.

Soundlessly, he poured them both a cup of sake, inviting as Hisagi sat cross legged across from him. Papers littered the desk from Kira's last report, which he had been working on before his friend entered. Neatly, he stacked them and pushed them to the edge, to be remembered and finished later.

They toasted soundlessly, and while Hisagi threw back his drink to relish in the quick burning taste, Kira drank his slowly. Even under the furious temptation of Rangiku, he hardly consumed as quickly as the others did.

Just as well, he was glad Hisagi didn't point out that he has never kept a bottle of sake stored in his house before.

For minutes, they sat in silence, Hisagi drawing strength from the alcohol while Kira waited patiently for him to speak. He didn't need to wait too long, for a few moments later; Hisagi met his gaze and said, "I tried to visit Rangiku."

So that was it, Kira thought it would be. He only showed this same type of physical illness when he tried to visit the busty blond. Kira himself could only convince himself to go to her room because he knew very few others visited. It was painful that he was the only one to change the flowers by her bedside.

Hisagi watched him, expecting Kira to comment on the fact he should have gone. However, instead he said, "I talked with Rukia."

At that, Hisagi stiffened, his placid gaze suddenly becoming flinty and cold. "Talked about what?" He snapped meanly. "There's nothing to discuss with her, she's a murderer, and you know it."

Kira shook his head, feeling wounded for both his friend and the young Kuchiki girl. She was no murderer, even if her blade had once sliced through Lieutenant Shiba's stomach. She had done much to protect Soul Society, and ended up losing much more than she had gained. Still, it had surprised him how easily she had accepted his explanation for Hisagi's hatred.

"She isn't." He said softly, cutting Hisagi off as he tried to snarl disagreement. "I know you don't want to deal with her, but she is powerful enough to be a lieutenant. I just spoke to her because I wanted the two of you to get along. We need to, for this mission."

Hisagi swelled slightly, his hatred for Rukia temporarily forgotten as he recalled the words of Akon and their new target. His hand practically flew to Kazeshini in anticipation. The zanpakuto cackled silently into his ear, and he struggled temporarily to suppress his madness. As much as he longed to destroy the hollow, they had been given strict orders.

The blonde man watched as his friend fought for control of his emotions once again. He sighed, pouring them both more sake, which Hisagi took gratefully. "You know we have to work as a team." He implored, and Hisagi nodded, although a bit reluctantly.

He paused, as a sliced up memory of Rangiku came back to him…

sitting alone at a cafeteria table, head in hand and staring obliquely back out into the clear blue sky. She had been becoming more and more distant lately, he noticed. It was rare to see her in such a contemplative mood. Normally she was the first to seek out a friend to go drink with when she managed to avoid the white-haired terror who was her captain.

"Rangiku?" he called as he approached her, and she jumped slightly. He caught her gaze, and the initial emotion there made him catch his breath. Baited and melancholic, she shoved away the expression quickly to give him one of those brilliant smiles, one that he had always wished belonged to him alone.

But he had always known it, even if she had never said. She was long ago captured by that silver-haired fox, and in his wily cunning, he never let her slip through his fingers. Never entirely.

"Hisagi!" She said brightly, pulling him in her typical way to the seat next to him. "Guess what I filched from Captain Kyōkaru's stash?" From her bust she pulled a bottle of sake, one the captain probably wouldn't even miss.

He blanched a little, but he could never resist her charms for long. Before he knew what was happening, she talked him into kidnapping Renji and Kira as they laughed together, only to be foiled when Captain Kuchiki found them.

Even that day, he never saw that empty, glassy look that was on display for everyone to see. But it wasn't just him. Everyone else had missed it, too.

His teeth grit as he thought of Rukia. It was her fault, but he was willing to bury those emotions if he could bury his blade in that damned hollow's face.

Swallowing his fury, he lifted up his sake cup, Kira's blue gaze following his movements. "To Rangiku." He toasted softly, and his friend nodded slowly. They raised their cups solemnly, each wincing as the alcohol left trails of burning warmth down their throats.


For them, it would be a night of memories shared in the drunken haze that sake offers to those who drink it. Memories are a powerful thing, reader. As important as it is to live in the present, it is impossible to do so without the shadow of the past whispering words of both regret and joy into the ear.

Yet there are too many memories for this story to explain them all. In their golden days, when they are laying down to rest, this story would suggest asking them about their pasts. While society might sometimes condemn the power of the elderly, the gift of wisdom is rare and special.

While they speak, this story will move gently away, to the edge of Soul Society, where the white-haired man sat with his blade at his side.

Have you ever stopped to think of what the opposite of ice is, reader? Most likely, you'd roll your eyes at this story for such a question. Ice is frozen water, isn't it? Doesn't that make fire its opposite?

True, ice stops fire from starting, and fire itself can melt ice. But unlike fire and water, ice and fire can coexist. A fire can burn without ice melting, while ice exists in high mountains where fire deigns to light. So, what then, would be ice's opposite?

Perhaps, reader, the opposite of ice would be water itself. With water being to liquid as ice is to solid, they are opposites that are exactly the same. While in each form, they oppose each other, but eventually water will be ice, and ice will be water, and they will oppose each other again.

The discussion here is trying to point out how similar two things, or people, can be, while still constantly clashing. Just keep this in mind, reader, for it is important.

Ice is Toshiro, as everyone knew. Not only did he wield the dangerous and powerful Hyorinmaru, but he was friend to the chill long before he realized his own powers. It's why, even in the moments he felt his soul cracking, he could constantly seek comfort from his long-time companion.

It wasn't an easy thing to do. Hyorinmaru, by nature, wasn't a very warm or caring individual. Like the glacier, he was proud and stubborn, only showing the very tip of his true being when so many other facets lurked beneath. But as his companion, he has willingly shown Toshiro the things he has learned, just to serve the powerful master.

'Do you remember the icy plain which he met?' Hyorinmaru asked his master, his voice deep and rumbling, as an ice dragons should be.

Toshiro glanced down at his side, where he had placed the blade that normally rested on his back. He would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised at the sudden voice. Hyorinmaru talked to him very rarely recently. He sensed that – even if the blade didn't know Rangiku or Momo as Toshiro did – he felt his wielder's pain as his own.

Even more so, Hyorinmaru sensed those bugs that lurked beneath Toshiro's skin. He knew that he wasn't right, despite how Toshiro attempted to seem normal. Yet, despite their kinship, the dragon blade had no idea how to heal him. That knowledge wounded him enough to keep him quiet.

But now he spoke, as if ready to shed at least some sort of wisdom upon his charge. After all, Hyorinmaru didn't choose the man simply because he knew how to relax in an icy climate. It was because a dragon keeps a protective nature. Someone with so much potential deserved a proper guardian to guide him.

'I remember.' Toshiro responded after a lapse of silence. On that frozen plain, when Hyorinmaru first managed to call out his name, and Toshiro had been able to hear. It had been one of the most thrilling moments of his life. The dragon had lain down in his palms, and in that moment, he could have sworn a blizzard of ages was brewing inside of him. It was so viciously strong; it had nearly thrown him off his feet. But then he had gripped it strong, and felt the way the hilt complimented his hand. An extension of his own arm, one that could command even the heavens.

The blade was silent for a moment, reveling in the same memories as his partner. 'We've fought many battles since then.' The blade said slowly. 'Won many, but lost others.'

Toshiro nearly shuddered as he recalled the time he first discovered Aizen's betrayal. In his fury, he had flung himself at the captain. The man hadn't even flinched. He just raised a hand and, before he knew it, he was laying on the floor, his body broken.

At that moment, the color orange flashed in his mind. Ichigo, he realized. How such a boy had managed to reel in the power to defeat Aizen was a feat that no other could have accomplished. Awhile ago, Toshiro had even felt jealous of that power. He wished he could be the one to deliver that final blow, and take revenge for Momo.

But that destiny wasn't his, and Hyorinmaru had rounded on him for his childish envy. 'You have a role of your own.' The dragon had berated him furiously. 'Don't think that you can relax because you aren't facing Aizen. You must fight, now.'

Almost automatically, he thought of Rukia Kuchiki as well, only because her destiny had been so intensely intertwined with Kurosaki's. So closely, in fact, it was almost strange that she had lived while he had passed.

Silence lingered between them, and Hyorinmaru tried again. 'If you are faced with that hollow, will you manage to keep yourself under control?'

A strange question, Toshiro thought. If anything, he didn't think he himself would be in danger of that. Despite his short temper, he took orders from above very seriously.

Even so, it was that hollow's fault Rangiku herself was so sick.

She had attacked it head on, so it hadn't affected her in the way it affected everyone else. While parasites had lodged inside many, she had merely caught the brunt of the attack. The hollow, as well as having the poisonous parasites, had poison on its claws.

This poison, however, had been meant to kill quickly, to make prey succumb so the hollow could feast. However, Rangiku had been lucky for Isane to be nearby. With her expertise, she had managed to defeat the most aggressive of the poisons.

Unluckily, there were several different toxins inside the poison. Most of them were easy to get rid of, but a couple lingered, refusing to leave. Toshiro had heard Unohana say, when she thought no one else was listening, that the poison in Rangiku's own mind was giving the toxin a harbor of safety.

'Would you stop me,' Toshiro finally said to his blade, 'if I couldn't? If I attacked without a second thought?'

It was the zanpakuto's turn to remain silent. For years, the two had been partners, if not friends. While many soul reapers used their blades as a means to an end, and thought of it as nothing more than a conscious weapon, Toshiro and Hyorinmaru had always known more than that.

Perhaps it was because they were both eerily familiar with the sensation of isolation and loss, or maybe it was simply that they both loved the cold so much, compatibility was nearly a guarantee. Either way, they had always counted and relied on each other in a way that made their bond stronger every time Hyorinmaru lent his power to the young master.

So would Hyorinmaru stop him? It was possible. Very rarely did Hyorinmaru question his judgment. Usually because Toshiro kept a level head, and even when he didn't, the blade tended to agree with him.

'Maybe.' Hyorinmaru said, chuckling in a humorless way. It was a dry tone, one that seemed to sum up Toshiro's feelings on the idea very well. 'You're already too sick to get hit by that hollow.'

It wasn't exactly what he was expecting to hear, and Toshiro stared down at him in surprise. But no matter how much he prodded Hyorinmaru on the matter, the blade fell silent again. Just as he had remained for a long time.


"Miss Rukia!" A maid gasped, seeing the girl stumble back into the manor. Her clothes were rough and torn, as well as her hair being mussed with wind and rain. She had been out half the night, and the servants would have worried, if not for the fact that they feared what Byakuya would do if he knew his sister was missing.

Yet she barely reacted to the maid's astonished surprise. In her most noble way, Rukia waved her off with a royal wave of her hand. "A late night mission, from Captain Ukitake." She breathed in a calm voice.

The maid nodded, knowing better than to try and get involved when any of the Kuchiki Clan used their regal tones. She bowed hurriedly, rushing off to her next task.

Rukia stared after her, before actually bothering to look down at herself. With grim satisfaction, she thought that if she stayed this way, then maybe everyone who crossed her path would flee with that same look of horror.

Noiselessly, she padded to her own room, suddenly thankful for the way the house sheltered and warmed despite the raging wind that blew outside. Luckily, Toshiro's storm had passed over, but strong clouds still lingered over head, and with it the memory of a furious storm.

It was dank, and for a moment, she was surprised at the un-lived in feel the room had to it. Then, she supposed, she hadn't felt at home there in a long time. Once, it was decorated in the many items she had gathered in the world of the living. By now, though, only the items most precious to her remained and they lay in the back of her closet, gathering dust. It was too painful to leave them in the open.

Now, her walls were blank and her room sparkled with the efforts all the maids gave to try and keep it clean. With a snort, she snapped on the light.

As if on autopilot, she kicked off her shoes and shed her uniform. It was torn, so she left it outside of the door for a servant to pick up and mend. She draped on her night gown, instantly feeling that same petite vulnerability it always carried with it.

Outside her room, the storm separated just enough for the moon to shine silvery light onto the wooden floor. She stared at it for a moment, with a pang, and remembered all those sleepless nights spent trying to capture the silvery tendrils with her hand. Her fingers twitched, as if aching to try one more time.

She was tempted to reach out her hand, just for a moment, but then stopped. Outside her room, she heard the click of brusque feet on the wooden floor. With a start, she recognized her brother's walk. Unlike the servants, who crept and crawled as if scared the large house would swallow them whole if they made too much sound, Byakuya always walked with a purpose to his step. Strong and even, constant and determined. For some reason, such a sound always put her heart a bit at ease.

Sighing, she lay down upon her bed, shutting off the light. The little gap of clouds allowed the moon to glare down beside her. She closed her eyes, and immediately saw the simple grave she had visited earlier.

Long orange hair and a bubbly smile was how she remembered Orihime. With bright brown eyes that shone with every emotion she refused to keep hidden. She was always so warm and forgiving, so willing to help anyone who requested it of her. Fitfully, Rukia couldn't think of anyone more caring.

And she was gone, just like so many others. Once the world had brightened happily when she was the one to smile at the sky. Now it was quiet, and as if agreeing with her, the clouds covered the moon, and she was cut off from the light.

Staring into the pitch dark, her thoughts drifted to the other person she had seen that night. She knew very little of Captain Hitsugaya, other than his fiery reputation. She had met very few who didn't think he wasn't a cold-hearted bastard. Rangiku was the one who always tried to convince her that he wasn't nearly half that bad.

She herself never believed him to be horrible. Sure, intimidating, but after chasing him with Ichigo in order to help save him from past mistakes, she found he had more in common with Ichigo than either would care to admit. That same perseverance, as well as a guilt complex the size of Rokungai.

At this, she chuckled bitterly. She had that same guilt complex, too.

But when she had spoken to him on the hill, he seemed so much different from all the other times they had happened to speak. All the sudden, she had seen a man whose sanity hung from a hair so thin, it was nearly invisible.

She didn't know it then, reader, but she had caught a glimpse of the true Toshiro. The one with bugs determined to keep him healthy.

The clouds shifted again, and this time a slice of light settled over her stomach. Self-consciously, she wrapped her arms around herself. Other nights she would seek the night, now she was scared of it.

Suddenly, she stood up, and for the first time in weeks, she shut the window and the curtain, blocking out the light. Then, she lay back down, closing her eyes defiantly.

As always, terrors lurked there within her mind. Growling resignedly, she curled up beneath her blankets, and tried to imagine someone lingering over her, protecting her.

Anyone, she thought. Anyone.


The wind eventually died down, reader. The longer the night went on, the more the clouds disappeared. Riding on the breeze, they were swallowed by the horizon, leaving a clear sky of biting stars that would slowly fade when challenged by the light of the sun.

Today, Akon would rub his cheeks as he felt nearly ready to fall over in exhaustion. While he would never ask Captain Kurotsuchi to take pity on him and assign him more assistants (doing so would be a death wish), he would never be opposed to help.

Yet he was given a task, and curse his own determined brain that he would stay up late into the next day to solve a mystery. While most of the staff had gone home, a couple remained with him, typing in numbers as they attempted to study the parasite.

As the day went on, more would join them in their task, and with their collective intelligence, the parasite would be ready to release.

Eventually, but not now. Now, the four chosen for the mission must report to their daily duties while waiting anxiously to be summoned.

Hisagi wasn't surprised when Captain Muguruma was nowhere to be found. The man was almost always out of the office at this time, and would probably be at the training grounds by now. Even after the incident with Aizen, he always was working on improving his power.

While Hisagi hesitated (training with Muguruma was like training with a drill sergeant who had no sense of humor), he turned that way today.

He would be going on a mission soon, and giving himself an edge could never be a bad thing.

To move the story along, the story of Hisagi's training with Muguruma will be mostly skipped. As expected, the Captain ran his Lieutenant down to the bone, challenging him at every turn. For, you see, Muguruma was very aware of Hisagi's fearfulness to fight all out, and he has always been determined to beat that fear out of him any way possible.

At the end, Hisagi was so wasted that, when knocked on the ground, he found himself laying there for a moment. He stared up at the sky, so blue after the lashing of light and shadow, and admired its ability to last forever.

But then a shadow was cast against his features as the captain stared down at him, face seemingly stuck in that perpetual frown. For a minute, Hisagi expected him to scold him for laying there. Instead, he merely sighed and offered a hand.

Hisagi took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet while Muguruma gave him a look he couldn't quite understand. "Good job." He said in an off-hand, gruff manor. "That's enough for today."

The lieutenant nodded, allowing himself to smile slightly. While his muscles were strained and breathing suddenly became a difficult, rasping task, he couldn't deny that the pure adrenaline of a fight was almost as grand of pain reliever as sake.

Muguruma led his lieutenant back, just as the sun was rising in the sky. He shot furtive glances at the man beside him, unsure of what to do. He knew, from the moment he took on Hisagi, what he was asking for. The man held such power in his hands, but his fear of giving into his zanpakuto's, and his own, bloodlust made him nearly timid on the battlefield, only drawing himself out when the situation was dire.

He was stuck between trying to beat some since into the lieutenant and attempting at talking to him. There was something fragile within Hisagi, especially when any thoughts of Rangiku came into the question.

In truth, Muguruma never really knew Rangiku well. In fact, she was one of those with a personality that rubbed him the extreme wrong way. Always goofing off, and constantly pushing others to guzzle alcohol as quickly as herself. Not to mention her desire to push off her responsibilities.

But he admired her as well. She had a loyalty that was as important to her as friendship. Not many fight so bravely when their loved ones are threatened.

And she was close with Hisagi, Muguruma knew. They complimented each other well, in the way opposites do. His intensity made her work harder, and her recklessness allowed him to throw some of his own caution to the wind.

Sighing, Muguruma gave up the idea of trying to say anything. He wasn't good at the inspirational speaking crap. He was a man of action, and, hopefully, his action would be able to help the lieutenant. Even if just a little bit.


While some awoke early enough to see the sun rise, others were just opening their eyes as light streaked the horizon. The beckon of a warm day was enough to put many into good spirits. The storm had left the trees dripping rain, while the grass would remain wet until the sun raised high enough to call the water back to the sky.

Kira woke much more slowly, suffering more in the mornings than Hisagi ever did after a night of drinking. Given, it was nothing like the hangovers he would have after a night with Rangiku, but the headache was noticeable enough to make him reluctant to go out in the sun.

He did, though, because responsibility was important to him. He went to his division, seeking out his captain, and finding him wrapped up in the manga.

"Ah, Izuru." Rose called amiably. He always referred to the blonde in such a casual way, just so he could insist on being called Rose. "Why don't you come back later? I'm right in the middle of the climax." He smiled in a genteel manner. Kira shrugged, knowing he had his own paperwork to file. With a quick bow, he left the room, off to his own daily tasks.

Along the way, he passed Toshiro Hitsugaya, who acknowledged him with a cold nod. He looked less tired, Kira noticed. Normally, soft bags hung underneath his cerulean eyes.

In fact, reader, Toshiro had slept, while not long, rather deeply. In his calm, the storm had cleared, and he was surprised at how pleasant he found the morning. As much as he loved the rage of winter, there was something about a rain-washed morning that was almost just as peaceful.

Having neglected his responsibilities previously for a rage in the woods, he found he had that much more to do. Using the night of sleep to his advantage, he did his best to ignore the usual stinging in his nose that was brought on by Rangiku's scent to sit at his desk.

Truthfully, the words weren't much more appealing today than they were the day before. Still, he was known for his punctuality, and some sort of inner force allowed him to get to work, if only for old time's sake.


Habit can be a dangerous thing, reader. When one gets used to a routine for so long, a wrench thrown into it can certainly turn a whole day into tumult. It can be hard to remember, but to do something different each day is a necessity. Life spent in a repetitive niche could be suffocating.

It was why she was woken so late in the day, compared to how early her life normally begun. In fact, the maids so expected her to be up already, that they didn't notice her absence until Captain Kuchiki calmly queried about his sister's whereabouts. Immediately, the youngest of the crew was sent off to fetch her.

Rukia opened a single violet eye as a timid knock came to her door. She was being called for breakfast – rather a rare event. Normally she was out in the garden at this time, sitting at the edge of a pond as she watched the blissful koi fish swim.

Strangely, though, she had slept rather well, when she finally had managed to fall to sleep. She glanced up at the closed window, and found the sight odd. Unable to help herself, she got up to open it, before answering the maid's call.

She opened the door, and the girl handed her the black robes, newly washed and mended. With a brief smile that strangely resembled a grimace, Rukia thanked her, then stepped back into her room.

Byakuya was back, and that meant she would be expected for a formal breakfast. She hadn't had one for awhile. Being a captain and also managing the Kuchiki household had kept him away for a long while. With a pang of guilt, she recognized that it was her fault he spent so much time trying to placate the elders.

Formal breakfast meant formal clothes. Although the weight the black robes lent to her made her shoulders sag, the pure elegance her other clothes forced upon her was even worse. Delicately, she selected a flowered kimono, and within moments, was stepping out of the hall and towards the breakfast lounge.

To her own relief, the only other person there was her brother. At times, relatives that weren't really hers, or other important ambassadors, were invited for meals. While it was rather rare, she usually hated it. They all looked to her with eyes a mixture of forced pity and ready disgust. Despite the many hardships she had faced, none could forget her grimy roots.

She wasn't ashamed of her past, she never had been. Even in the pain, she knew she earned at least some sort of place in Soul Society. For that reason, she couldn't help but to resent those condescending men, even just a little. It wasn't a horrible thing, though. Her own annoyance helped give her the same regal air as them, and while they knew her past was a blight on the house, they were always impressed at the way she could carry herself as cool as them.

As usual, she bowed to her brother, who eyed her placidly. He motioned for her to sit, and immediately plates of food were set steaming and delicious in front of them. First, though, she aimed for her tea. The warm drink was always soothing on her throat.

There was never really conversation between the siblings at breakfast, and today wasn't different. They ate in silence, chewing quietly and thoughtfully. So used to this lull of noise she was, that she quickly tuned into her own thoughts. She didn't notice it immediately, but her brother's presence put her at a sort of ease she hadn't felt in days.

Routine, however, was once again interrupted as Byakuya cleared his throat, intending to speak. He turned his cold gray eyes upon his adopted sister, and the flint in them that was there naturally softened. She flinched slightly, she couldn't help it. Whenever he spoke, he did so with such weight she always strained to hear his words, even if he spoke loudly.

So in response to his sound, she lifted her eyes to meet his. He was watching her closely, and she felt strangely vulnerable with his gray gaze on her. For forever, he had looked at her with those eyes, and she had never been able to see any deeper than the placid surface.

"The elders pulled strings to get you onto the mission you're going on." He began, voice slow and deep, as well thought out as always.

She blinked at that, unsure of what to say. Of course, the elders had told her she was selected personally for the mission, but she had no idea why. With her silence, she beckoned for her brother to continue.

He did, keeping his stern gaze on her. "It is their hope that you will manage to kill this hollow in order to clear some of the rumors circulating your circumstance."

Ah, she breathed. That made sense. Despite her attempt to try and seem as normal, she supposed that servants enjoyed talking, and she was something interesting to talk about, with her late night returns and sudden bouts of screaming.

Byakuya continued to hold her gaze, trying to make his point clear. She continued to sit, hands calm, despite the fact he could see a nervous curiosity pass over her gaze. "However, despite their hopes, you're to follow the orders given to you by the Captain Commander. This is a reconnaissance mission, and it's too dangerous to try and confront the hollow head on."

In front of him, he saw as she let out a little breath of confusion, and to his relief, he knew that she herself was prepared to let the hollow slide. Still, he knew emotions ran thick and deep in her, and in the heat of the moment, anything could happen.

He continued to pierce her with that penetrating gaze, making his decision perfectly clear. "There is still much we don't know about the hollow, and any attacks could result in anything."

She winced at that, unable to help the sudden flashback of Rangiku squirming and screaming in her bed as nurses and doctors attempted to hold her down. She swallowed thickly, knowing that one clash with those hollow's claws could result in her wasting away in that bed as well.

She was struck with a sudden notion that she wasn't sure if she wanted to die yet. Not in that painful, degrading way.

Her brother continued to watch her, hoping that his own message would make it through. At the meeting with the elders, he had seen the way her back had straightened and her eyes had brightened, in a way they hadn't for a long while.

And he had recognized that look, the look of anticipating revenge. He saw it now as she sat across from him, although her determination was cowed by her own loyalty to orders. She had no obligation to follow the elder's ideals, and his own pride stirred as she bowed her head to him.

"Don't worry." She assured him as coolly as she could. "We will not engage the hollow, not until we're ordered to do so."

He nodded, flicking his hand to summon servants to collect their plates. "Then we are done." He told her, although he paused for a moment to bow his own head. Rukia blinked at him, realizing that he was giving her his blessing.

For the first time in months, she felt something warm spread inside of her heart. The sensation was so unexpected and strange in her normally cold indifference, she had to look at her hands to blink back the tears before he could see them.


After breakfast, she hastened to pull on her robes and dash back out to squad 13. Despite her promotion, paperwork made it so her position wouldn't be valid for another month, so she reported as always, to the fifth seat.

He seemed surprised to see her, and she blushingly avoided his questioning gaze. Breakfast with her brother had lingered longer than normal, but cold pride refused to tell him such a petty excuse.

Sighing, he told her that those not on patrol had left to go on a special training mission with promising recruits. Almost coldly, he waved her off to go and see Ukitake. She bowed rather stiffly. She had never been a fan of the fifth seat, and he looked at her with an unrestrained jealousy. While most would argue that her part in the winter war was enough to secure her seat, he glared as a previously unseated officer managed to surpass him.

Ignoring his frigidity, she strode off to Captain Ukitake's office. Yet, she only made it halfway there, when she practically ran into a striding Kiyone.

"Ah, Rukia!" She gasped, dropping papers that she had clutched to her chest. "Jeez, you surprised me!" The girl laughed in her loud, unrestrained way. Rukia tried not to flinch at the sound as she leaned down to help pick up the scattered papers.

Kiyone bent down beside her, smiling brightly. "Actually, it's just perfect I ran into you. You're not busy now, are you?"

Rukia shook her head, explaining that she had been on her way to speak to Ukitake. Kiyone beamed at her, a smile so bright she nearly had to squint. "Perfect! See, the typical carrier is out sick, and Sentaro dumped this load of work on me. I need to get back to the Captain, so could you help me with these?"

Raven haired Rukia blinked at that. She normally wasn't a messenger, but Kiyone looked at her with those pleading eyes, and she simply sighed obligingly. Kiyone squealed happily, handing a few different papers to Rukia.

"See, these two go to Squad 7, but you could probably just deliver them to Lieutenant Iba. This one is a message for Captain Kyoraku, and this one is a report for Captain Hitsugaya. I can do the rest!" Kiyone said brightly.

Forlornly, Rukia glanced at Kiyone's arms, seeing she only had one paper to deliver. But, with a start, she saw it went to Captain Kurotsuchi. Suddenly grateful that the girl was willing to take on that beast on her own, she smiled. "Okay. I'll see you later." Rukia said, as Kiyone nodded enthusiastically.

They parted ways then, and Rukia decided to visit Kyoraku first. Despite his often laid back attitude, she found his relaxed nature just as comforting as Ukitake's.

Predictably, he invited her for a drink, but Lieutenant Nanao got in his way. "You lazy man!" She accused him meanly, watching as he squirmed beneath her strict gaze. She turned back to Rukia, smiling slightly. "Thanks, Kuchiki. Oh wait, it's Lieutenant Kuchiki now, isn't it?"

She smiled in a congratulatory way, while from behind her, Kyoraku called, "see? That's a reason to celebrate!"

Nanao rolled her eyes, taking the message from Rukia. "Thanks." She sighed. "It probably isn't what you had in mind as a promotion, but I doubt Ukitake will have you carrying messages for long."

She nodded reassuringly, and Rukia smiled softly. With a quick bow, she thanked them both, and set off again.

Closest from there was Squad 7, although both captain and lieutenant were gone, so she dropped them off with the third seat. Afterward, she ventured towards Squad 10.

She had expected for him to be gone, but the man at the front waved her inside. "He's just in there doing paperwork. You can give it to him quick." He sighed, and she had a feeling that he himself didn't want to have to give the papers to the captain.

So it is true. She thought to herself in amusement. The captain did tend to instill a rugged fear in each of his subordinates.

Yet, it wasn't for the same reason that people would fear Kenpachi. Because despite their reluctance at getting chewed out for disturbing him, he inspired a committal loyalty just as well.

She knocked politely on his door, and she heard him call for her to enter. After a moment of hesitation, she did.

To her own surprise, the office looked no different from when she had last been here, many months ago. It was bland, without any touches to make it look very homey, except for the pictures and knick-knacks Rangiku had convinced her captain to let her keep.

Despite that, the couches and the floor and his desk were all the same. Even the captain looked as he normally did, bent over his desk in a look of concentration.

He glanced up at her, then blinked, surprised that the newly promoted lieutenant was standing in his office. At first, he thought it had something to do with the mission, but then she held out a hand with papers in it.

"These are from Captain Ukitake." She explained to him quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed at his confused look. For a moment, she felt tempted to explain to him why she was doing errands, but he then smoothed his face and took the papers from her hand.

Soundlessly, he perused them, then looked back up at her from the cover of his eyelashes. "These just require a few signatures and a short report from me. Would you stay, so you can just take it back?"

She hesitated, but nodded. Despite a sentence that should have been a calm request, his came off as an irritated order. Suddenly, she remembered the look on the man's face at the front, and had to stifle a smile. Such a strange environment, especially compared to Squad 13.

Then, with a pang, she recalled that the one who was always responsible for lightening the atmosphere was Rangiku.

He motioned for her to sit as she waited, and she nodded accordingly. She tried to stay as normal as she could, but his teal gaze didn't miss her sudden stiffness.

She sat neatly on the sofa, and for some reason, he wanted to snap at her that she was doing it wrong. The image in his mind was of Rangiku lying sprawled on that couch. Realizing that was ridiculous, though, he swallowed the words and filled out the paper for Ukitake.

He hadn't seen the man in a while, he realized. And he knew something was wrong with the old carrier, because normally the man insisted on sending bundles of sweets with his letters. The gesture in the past had always irritated the captain, but now he missed it.

The scratch of the pen and the surrounding silence lulled Rukia into a deep train of thought. So in depth was she, that Toshiro had to call her name twice to get her attention.

"Hm?" She blinked dazedly as he stared pointedly at her. As if suddenly remembering where she was, she jumped to her feet, the movement making her stumble awkwardly.

If he were anyone else, he would have snickered at the look that crossed her face. Instead, he continued to simply watch her as she quickly gained her composure, straightening in that way he recognized her brother often wore.

The same cool look was on her face as she took the paper from him with a bow. He watched her carefully, finding that this regal Rukia was a little too strange from him. In a flash, he remembered the way she lit up as Ichigo picked on her, or Orihime called to her. Feeling cold, he dismissed her quickly.

Do you recall, reader, when this story brought up how two people, so similar, can also be opposites?

If you considered the closest to Toshiro's opposite, your mind would most likely jump to the busty Rangiku. Discounting looks and height difference alone, both a sharp contrast with each other, they differed just as much as anyone could get.

Where Rangiku was lazy, Toshiro was determined. Where she would easily abandon her duties for a trip to the spa or a day with friends, the only time he actually took the chance to take care of his own body was after being sliced up in a battle.

Yet, there are another two that contrast to vibrantly, despite their similarities. These two are Rukia and Toshiro, two that should understand each other perfectly.

And yet, they don't. Ice and snow actually clash quite a lot, reader. Ice envies snow's beauty, while snow wishes that it wouldn't melt so easily. So similar they are, and at one point, ice has been snow, while many times snow will turn into ice.

But in their individual forms, they can never forget their differences.

Which was why, reader, when she left his room, Toshiro found a new kind of cold lingered. He always enjoyed a blizzard, but his element was ice, and he found her presence strangely soft in its coolness. He watched her leave, wondering what the difference was between her today and the woman he had spoken softly with at Orihime's grave. Then, shaking his head softly, he returned to his own work.

They had a mission coming up, and maybe he would be able to find that difference, if he looked hard enough.


This chapter is almost over, reader, because the day continued as a very normal one. Shifts and duties were knocked around, and in the depths of the forest, a mission left a few men with scratches to bear. Yet, nothing heavy to scar.

As the sun began to set, in the labs of Squad 12, Akon breathed out a sigh of relief as one of the assistants confirmed that the tracker was firmly attached to the parasite, and they had gathered all the data on it that they could. Feeling worn down and ragged from the few constant days of work, he congratulated them all on good work.

"Tomorrow." He told a girl as she locked the lab up for the night. "We'll go to Captain Commander first thing."


Well, there's chapter four!

I apologize for any OOCness, I honestly haven't read or watched the anime or manga in a long time, and I'm going off what I remember of each character.

Slow, but maybe a little less angsty. Don't worry, there will be more HitsuRuki moments and action scenes coming soon! Don't want to bore people too bad, eh?

I expect my next update to be by the end of August. Sorry about the lateness, but I am moving in a couple of weeks, and shit's about to get cray, but you can check my profile for updates.

And, I guess, if anyone is still caring to read this story, then thank you very much! Drop a review, if you're feeling kindly :)