"H-Hisana?" Rukia gasped.

She looked so different, sitting there dressed in cloths that belonged in the modern century. Hisana looked modern, more than Rukia imagined she ever had or ever would. She looked like she belonged on that rooftop, in that century. Rukia was stunned. She could not move. Ever since she had first seen Hisana's picture in Byakuya's office she had wondered about the enigmatic woman. Then she had found out that she was her sister and she had wondered even more. Byakuya had been kind and tried to tell her about her sister but she could see the way that he looked when he talked about her. He looked like someone had stabbed him and was twisting the knife. She knew that the fact she looked so much like Hisana hurt him and for that she was sorry. But here she was, the woman, her sister, sitting on the rooftop.

Rukia had prayed that Hisana was alive but now, now that she realized she was she could not find the joy in the situation. Just the hurt, just the anger. Before she realized what she was doing her had locked around the Zanpakto she had concealed in her blanket. Hisana's eyes widened as Rukia opened her mouth. Before she could utter the command and wake Sode no Shirayuki something happened. The exact ammount of Spiritual Pressure she took to wake her Zanpakto was applied to her own, nullifying her ability to wake her Zanpakto. Hisana was suddenly in front of her, hands extended but the technique had happened before she had gotten there. Rukia stared, horrifed as the command died on her lips and Sode no Shirayuki remained passive in her grasp.

"How—" her eyes rose to meet Hisana's own, "how could you?!" Rukia cried, dropping the sword, her hand lashing out and connecting with Hisana's cheek, the sound echoing across the deserted rooftop, "how could you just leave like that?!" she cried, "he loved you! He loved you enough to take me in! To keep me safe! How could you leave him?!"

Rukia ignored the angry tears that threatened her eyes and the lump that worked its way into her throat. She ignored the desperate desire to throw herself into her sister's arms, to beg the fairytale reunion that she had always dreamed of. She ignrored it because this woman had hurt Byakuya. Byakuya who ignored his own pain to help her. Byakuya who had thrown himself in front of swords for her. Byakuya, her brother, she had hurt him and in Rukia's eyes that was the greatest sin.

"There are things you don't know," Hisana said, her voice cold.

"And whose fault is that?!" she all but screamed.

"That's enough Rukia!" the command was harsh and issued in a voice she had only ever heard Byakuya use a handful of times. It was sharp enough to make her freeze, her angry tirade cut short, "you're upset, I get that, but I won't have you destroy our cover because of your anger," she continued.

Both the sister's turned as a roar of a Hollow echoed. Hisana's eyes narrowed while Rukia's widened for a moment but there the similarites ended. Rukia's hand went for her Zanpakto. Hisana quite literally threw Rukia over her shoulder and marched towards the stairwell. Rukia gave a shocked cry of suprise at the strength concealed in the oversized cloths her sister wore. Hisana ignored her and walked towards the stairwell.

"Those people—"

"Those people will have to make due," Hisana said, "you summon your Zanpakto now and we're all dead."

"But I have a du—"

"That duty ended when Soul Society fell," she cut her off, "your duty now is to stay alive and protect the intrests of the Royal Family," she desposited Rukia inside the stairwell and closed the door, looking cooly at her.

Rukia closed her eyes, unable to look at the woman in front of her. She needed to know the answer to her question but dreaded it all the same.

"He was a mission, wasn't he," she said, not evey trying to keep the accusation out of her tone.

For a moment Hisana was silent. For a moment Rukia prayed that she would tell her no, no that she had loved Byakuya. For a moment she let that hope flare.

"Its not that simple," came the reply.

"Yes or no?"

"Rukia—"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes."

And the hope went out.

"I see," she mustered her dignity, like she knew how to do from watching her brother, her real sibling not this woman in front of her, "I think it's best if when we leave you stay here and do not involve yourself with Soul Society," she met Hisana's eyes squarely, watching the violet of her eyes harden.

"I will try to stay away from Soul Society," Hisana said, "I give you my—"

"Your word means nothing to me," Rukia spat, her eyes blazing with anger, "and it will mean nothing to my brother when he finds out you've lied to him all these years," she made one last valiant effort at holding back tears, "so stay away from him and from me!" then she turned and fled.

Hisana closed her eyes, fighting back her own desperate wish to cry. That was not the tear-filled, fairytale reunion she had prayed for. Well, she supposed that it was time to let that dream die as well. She glanced at her watch, deciding to wait a few minuets for Rukia to hide herself in the tiny apartment. She may not have been able to do much but she could give her that. Turning Hisana walked back onto the roof and resumed her position sitting on the edge of the wall.

Sure enough the Hollow approached the building. Equally as sure she caught site of the almost invisible leashes attached to his neck. Her eyes followed them upwards to where the white robed Shinigami were standing on the buildings, guiding the Hollow. Hisana sighed, it was like the blind leading the blind. At least the ones they were looking for weren't blind—to some degree. She frowned and looked up at the Hollow and the Shinigami. The thing was edging its way towards the building.

Hisana got to her feet, her hand reaching under her pant leg and pulling out a dagger. She looked at the pale blade, wondering if this was such a good idea. After a moment's consideration she pushed it back into its holster and turned around. There were other ways of dealing with the Hollow. She turned and ran down the stairs to her apartment, slamming open the door.

"Everyone get ready!" she shouted, "we've gotta move!"

Isshin and Ryuken took the lead, grabbing various things and making sure everyone was descrete as possible. Hisana ducked into the bathroom and grabbed a candle. She crossed the distance into the kitchen and opened all the gas burners of her stove before grabbing a book of matches. The adults ushered everyone out.

"Lets get out of here, quickly," Isshin shoved everyone towards the door.

"Who is that?" Ichigo demanded glaring at Hisana, "what's she gonna do?"

"I don't know and I don't want to be on the recieving end of that," Isshin continued, "so keep going!"

Hisana lit the candle and turned, throwing it inside the room and locking the door and running after them.

In the midst of the ensuing chaos the group was able to escape. Though she kept her eyes ahead Rukia glanced back at Hisana out of the corner of her eye. Hisana looked strait ahead or her eyes scanned in front and to the sides for any threats.

She didn't look behind her once.

Break

As he rinsed the blood from his hands Hitsugaya could appriciate the irony of that one small part of his current situation. After all, Momo had been the first—but apparently not the last—to grip her sword hard enough to have her hands bleed. He had done the same. Even now, watching the blood spiral down the drain of the sink, he had Hyorinmaru braced against his leg and the cheap tile of the wall. He had muttered something to the two women he was currenly with about showering but the water had stung his arm too badly to use it. Apparently it had taken all of Orihime's abilities to heal his broken soul. There was no power left for his broken body.

Or his broken heart.

Exhaling he turned off the sink, bracing his hands against the chipped bowl. They were in some cheap motel that he had a feeling charged their rate by an hour and had a very different idea of what was going on inside their room. Well, no matter, his hair was tied back with a bandana to hide its color, his cloths were odd and baggy. He didn't look like a child anymore, not necessarily an adult either but certainly not himself. He wished that the insides of him were so easily changed. But no, no he was still broken where it mattered, he still clutched Hyorinmaru to his side like he was afraid not to feel the Zanpakto, he was still weak.

And Hinamori was still dressed in white, loyal to Aizen.

"Damnit Momo," he hissed his eyes flashing angrily in the mirror.

He hated himself at that moment becuase he could not bring himself to hate her. He was the one who didn't convince her. He was the one that let her go to Aizen. He was the one who didn't do everything he possibly could have to make sure that she was safe. This was his fault. He deserved everything he felt. Reincarnated guardian, ha! He was a pretty awful one at that. A helpless one. His own eyes bore into him via the reflection, searching out every weakness and flaw. There were so many, there were too man. His fists clenched, one around Hyorinmaru, one into itself. The reflection in the mirror filled his entire vision before it shattered into spiderweb cracks.

His eyes went from the shattered mirror to his fist, shards of glass still embedded in the skin of his knuckles. He looked in the mirror again, seeing his distorted image but knowing it was his. His fist swung out again, distorting the mirror further. He didn't know how many times he hit the mirror, the glass going deeper and deeper into his already damaged hand but he would have stayed there all night if the sound hadn't alerted Yoruichi. She appeared in front of him, her hand streaking out and grabbing his before he could hit the mirror again. He glared furiously at her, her face distorted this time by the tears in his eyes. There was nothing but concern in her eyes, no judgement, no anger. He hated that more, he would have liked to have the rest of the world angry at him as well.

"Hitsugaya," she said softly, "you're not going to help anyone this way."

"So what?!" he snarled, "I couldn't help anyone the other way either!" he ripped his hand free but boy genius or no this was Yoruichi and she caught his wrist again, "stop it! I need—"

"You need to get this looked at," she said turning his hand over to reveal the mangled appendage, "and then you need to rest," her eyes flickered to Hyorinmaru, "both of you," she turned her head, "Neliel!"

The Arrancar had caste off her childlike form for her normal one. The gigai she wore kept her mask and the marks on her cheeks hidden as well as the distinctive scar that cut through the lines of her face. She walked into the bathroom, her eyes scanning for any possible threats before landing on Hitsugaya's hand. They flickered from the broken mirror to his hand and back again before she sighed. Without any given thought to how it looked she took his hand, stuck a finger down her throat and vomitted over it. Hitsugaya tried to yank his hand back but she was very strong and held it there. Almost instantly the stinging of his hand lessended before vanishing. His skin knit together, forcing the glass shards out. Within a minuet his hand was as good as new, a pile of old shards of bloody mirror in the sink.

"I'm going back to bed," she said with a yawn, turning and walking off.

"You should as well," Yoruichi said, "you won't be able to help her if you're like this."

He grudgingly walked off to bed. Yoruichi turned her eyes to the blood-splattered tiles. For a moment she saw them, then she saw red slowly turning green to brown. She turned the sink on quickly, letting the cold water wash the tiles clean.

"And we've got baths here, you can take hot ones every day!" she cried excitedly to the quiet blond boy.

"I can?" his eyes widened as he inspected the tub, "how does it work?"

"How does what work?" she asked lowering herself to his level near the faucet.

"How does the water get hot?" he demanded inspecting it.

"I dunno," she shrugged, "you just turn this thing," she turned the faucet on as a demonstration.

"It's cold," he told her bluntly.

"Nu huh!" she argued grabbing his hand, "it's hot!"

"No it—its hot! Lemme go!" he cried.

"No wait a sec!" she turned the cold on until the water turned from scalding to plesantly warm, "see? You gotta balance them out," she explained grabbing the plug to the bathtub with her free hand and sticking it inside the drain, "you stick that in and—" she yanked the pink bottle down, "mommy puts this in hers and mine, it smells nice and you don't so this'll help," she continued bluntly dumping a lot in the tub.

Still holding hands the two watched as delicate whiteish pink bubbles filled the tub. And kept rising.

"We gotta turn it off!"

"How?!"

"I dunno! You live here!"

"I can't see anything!"

"Let go of my hand!"

"No! I'll loose you in the bubbles!"

Both tugged in opposite directions and somehow lost their footing. With a loud splash the two toppled into the tub. Inside Yoruichi found the handle and turned it off before looking around.

"Kisuke!" she cried trying to fight her way through the bubbles, "Kisuke where'd you go!"

Somoene tapped her shoulder.

"I'm right here Prin—"

"Kisuke!" she threw her arms around him and took them both into the shallow water inside the tub. She looked at him hotly, "you must call me Yoruichi," she said, "we're in the bath together and people who bath together have to call each other by their first names."

"O-okay Yoruichi," he said.

"Good!" she grinned, "now lets get the shampoo! You're hair smells weird and it looks brown!"

"My hair's blond!"

"Not right now its not!"

"Yoruichi!"

Yoruichi's knees buckled, hitting the tiles. One hand clapped over her mouth, the other digging into the lip of the sink as she tried to contain her sobs. All she could see was the bright eyed little boy who had come to her house. She hadn't known why, just that he was there and that was all that mattered. And now, now he was somewhere else. She didn't know if he was alive or dead. She couldn't close her eyes because every time she did she'd see him being dragged away, his robes wet with his own blood. Because she was unwilling to close her eyes tears slipped down her cheeks, unchecked. She was horrible at comforting people, she was not kind or caring or anything that they needed.

She dug her hand into the sink. She may not have been but she was all they had. She was the only option at the moment and if she got them all thrown into jail then there was nothing that they could do. If she lost, then Kisuke was as good as dead. Her other hand clamped around the sink as she hauled herself up, her eyes focused on the dull color of it. She had to be strong, no matter what she wanted she had to be. Wiping a hand angrily across her face she collected the shards of the mirror and placed them in the garbage can before exiting the bathroom.

She out into the small hotel room. Her two companions were already fast asleep. Hitsugaya was curled around Hyorinmaru, refusing to be separated from his Zanpakto for even a moment. Yoruichi felt saddened for him. She knew he and Hyorinmaru had a special bond and having that broken must have been very hard for both of them. On the other hand she was very glad that Orihime was still fighting. She turned her gaze to the window. A few buildings down one was on fire, the flames licking high towards the heavens. Yoruichi frowned and opened the window, straining to see more.

Sure enough she caught what seemed to be the leg of a Hollow vanishing around a building. Her eyes widened and she looked up to see two white robed Shinigami hurrying across rooftops. The third seemed to have his eyes locked on something on the ground. She saw him heasitate for a moment, as though deciding which way to go and realized with a dull thud of shock that he was chasing other rebels.

Rebels who knew what they were doing.

Shinigami.

"Nel!" Yoruichi woke her, "watch things, I'll be back!" she dove out the window.

"Damn it Yoruichi!" Nel cried after her but whatever else she said was lost as Yoruichi landed on the ground, thankful that their hotel room was not high up.

She ran across the street, trying to pinpoint where she had seen the others. Apparently the building had been evacuated and the tide of hysterical people was impossible to fight. She thought she saw a flash of orange or a pair of violet eyes but they were all lost just as quickly in the crowd. She turned and looked around, trying to track them via the Shinigami but he seemed just as confused as she was. Quickly she lost herself in the crowd, vanishing as effectively as if she had used her Spiritual Power to get lost.

"Damn it," she swore looking around but seeing no one.

A hand grabbed her around her arm and yanked her into a dimly lit bar. Yoruichi spun around and froze, her eyes wide.

"Soifon?!"

Her former protoege nodded, her free hand pressed tightly to her swollen jaw, her expression one of obvious pain. She was dressed in baggy pants and a tank top, her hair lacking its two signature braids. Yorichi would have hugged the girl but she had been jostled enough. Soifon's left eye was swollen shut, her jaw swollen and Yoruichi could see the way she favored her side. She had been tortured, that much was clear, but she had escaped. Yoruichi felt pride surge through her as Soifon offered a half-smile.

"Come on," Youruichi said, "i've got someone who can help heal you okay?"

Soifon bobbed her head and followed Yoruichi out of the bar and to the hotel.

Ten minuets and a good deal of spit later Soifon coughed and wiggled her jaw.

"Disgusting," she said, "but effective," she looked at the three of them, "glad to see you're alright Captain Hitsugaya."

"Same to you, Captain Soifon," he replied, not letting go of Hyorinmaru.

"Did they take Suzumebachi?" he asked not seeing it on her.

"Yes," she said reaching into her pocket and pulling out the familiar Zanpakto, already in its shikai. The Zanpakto was surrounded by a white glowing orb, "but I got it back."

"Nullified," Yoruichi said with a nod, "smart idea."

"I figured it was best to have it ready to go," Soifon said with a weak smile, "I couldn't talk," she added motioning to her healed jaw, "Grimmjow's a good kicker," she grimaced and slipped Suzumebachi into her pocket, "did you see who set the fire?"

"No," Yoruichi said, "i saw the Shinigami tracking them but I didn't see who set the fire. Whoever it is has to be excellent at masking their Spiritual Pressure."

"Do you think—" Hitsugaya stopped.

"What?" Yoruichi prodded.

"Do you think that the Royal Guard is involved in this?" he asked after a moment.