TSUKI:

This chapter is uber-long--be just a warning. I added a lot of back story, plus the beginning is quite slow.

I believe you will enjoy it, though--it's much happier, and sorry for the long wait.

On a final note, I would like for you all to stop rushing me to complete the chapters.

Traumerei is always on my mind; please remind yourselves that I have priorities and a life outside of FF as well.

So, please, trust me when I say that the chapters will get done. Thank you.

Now, enjoy the 7th chapter!

ALSO....Check out my new-ish fanfic 'Himmel' for angsty/WWII goodness.

PREFERRED MUSIC: Falling For You by Colbie Caillat

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'Rose Colored'

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The house is cold again.

Hostile winds invade her dimly lit room from every crevice, hole, and crack in the wall, and any puncture or gap in the crudely thatched roof welcomes the blazing gusts as the cold forces its way in.

She curls up within the comfort of her blankets, though the incessant rustling in the adjacent room prevents much desired sleep from reaching her. It is papa. It must be him.

The burning in her flesh has been tempered greatly since the night before, when her eyes began to blur and cries for her papa forced him from his slumber to cuddle and cosset her until her poor, inflamed eyes were able to see again.

Though, it was evident to both the aging man and his daughter that she was sinking deeper into eternal blindness. In spite of how many times he rose from bed in the night and attended to his little lass, whose petite hands and shrill voice of reduced vitality made him especially eager to safeguard her, the illness was clearly not one to be easily cured.

It scares her to think about it. She tries not to, but, of course, when the pain seeps through every vein in her body and races throughout her bloodstream, the difficulty in attempting to ignore the bodily throbs and multiple jolts of tremors rise enormously.

Only coughing will do now. And so she coughs, and wheezes.

She coughs up a yellow liquid and must swallow it down, only to have it gush from her lips in another painful hack. It feels as though her lungs are dissolving.

Not much longer, the winter rain arrives, and soft taps are heard above the ceiling.

These rains have arrived every evening since the start of winter, and, though they are only minor drizzles, they seem to cleanse the air of the musty, rustic stench which was persistently rife among the bustling streets. It has become her lullaby—an escape from the overcrowded buildings, looming smoke billows, and pains burdening her little chest.

She seems to be mollified by the soft sounds, and by the sweet scent of rainfall.

At least, for this night alone, sleep would arrive without her flesh boiling under the heat of fever.

It was a union that shocked separate neighboring countries inhabited by two hostile, quarrelling races—the pious, god-fearing humans of rustic Rukongai, and the demons of the mystifying kingdom of Hueco Mundo.

Because the marriage had been established behind shady doors without the presence of any demonic ambassadors or human diplomats, the betrothal—first whispered of when I was six years of age—was deemed invalid in the eyes of many people, especially in those of other countries who refused to even bear the notion of a human-demon union.

To them, it was an abomination to join two individuals of differing blood into holy matrimony. Even more baffling and breath-pinching to the older reactionaries was the diluting of the regal Abarai blood with a commoner's blood: my blood.

--I suppose they believed King Renji and I would immediately set ourselves off to baby-making. Tch, such fools they are. Let me simply say that the king's royal blood would not be "diluted" for a long time--

And, even I did not recognize the answer as to why and how my father, a pitiable court painter incapable of supporting himself at times, was able to strike a contract with the late king of Hueco Mundo, and ultimately marry me off to one of the most powerful rulers on the globe. I would be trying to unveil the answers for quite a while, though; secrets were well buried beneath the stone walls of Las Noches.

While I was still a school girl residing in my pastoral haven of Rukongai, I knew nothing of the Abarai family.

Documents of demonic rulers were forbidden, after all, and I certainly did not wish to face punishment simply due to my impudent curiosity about the family I would one day be united with. Therefore, I remained ignorant of the royal House of Abarai until many years later when I was actually living within the demonic family's grand palace of Las Noches.

Thanks to a set of textbooks and century-old dossiers, my knowledge of the Abarai lineage and demonic kingdom bloomed brilliantly, although some considerable effort was placed into first learning the classical vernacular of the demons.

So, allow me to continue in sprinkling some history over you all, dear audience, of my red-headed husband.

Renji Abarai was the third child and only son of the late king and a high-ranking marchioness, whose name appeared to have been scraped away from every single file in the palace library.

Regarding this lady, she was noted to have suffered from poor health, and although her first two children were stillborn, Renji's father would not divorce her simply because of her stunning beauty, for she was characterized by long, fiery locks and the glowing radiance tantamount to that of a wild goddess. I was then able to conclude that the Abarai men had, in fact, an almost embarrassing predilection towards beautiful women.

This marchioness apparently committed some sort of treason, which would explain the blackening-out of her name from every single document. I never viewed a portrait of her, and never will; the only lasting image of this former queen lingers in the memory of her sole offspring. And, for some time, I found it impossible to ask King Renji about his mother without receiving cold glares and a brush of the shoulder.

Although his mother's mysterious abdication spawned widespread indignation, King Renji's birth a few years earlier was received with pure joy from the Hueco Mundo people who had long been praying for a male heir. Historians scribbled down descriptions of eager noblemen and foreign ministers who all trekked over to see the handsome baby prince lying in his gold-encrusted cradle, with the promise of everlasting wealth, power, and glory encompassing his tiny head.

My husband's birth had captivated the world, albeit it both enraged and frightened the more pious humans of my native country. As he grew taller and sturdier, King Renji continued to entrance his loyal subjects; in him, the coveted Abarai beauty had fully blossomed. He reached a looming height of over six feet, graced with the scarlet locks and glowing, brunette eyes of his beautiful mother, with broad, robust shoulders, and gleaming olive skin that was considered extrinsic, yet exotic in demonic traditions.

Immersed in both privilege and responsibility, King Renji's father swept into Hueco Mundo hundreds of tutors and professional instructors to mold his son into the next great sovereign of the land.

However stringent the king may have been towards his son, King Renji nevertheless experienced healthy growth in a bright, and overgenerous atmosphere where he was encouraged to read and write in classical Greek and Latin, converse eloquently in the Oriental languages, develop an urbane rhetoric equivalent to that of past kings, establish both respect and admiration for law and politics, and become the quintessence of all the cherished ideals of demonic culture.

The towering pressure of being the direct Abarai heir failed to fluster the young king, though, and he occupied himself with the daily pleasures of sword fighting, especially with the imperial soldiers stationed at Las Noches, who all pledged their lives to the glory and honor of the future king.

He was simply perfect; the most perfect man I would ever come to know.

And, in all sincerity, I tell you that my one wish, after I grew to admire then love him exponentially, was to have him love me as much as he had loved Lady Hinamori.

If only he could embrace me as his loving wife and not as some petty, apathetic consort raised in the stagnant muck of human society, I would be happy. Yes, as I have stated before, perfection oozed from his every pore once I noticed the kind of man King Renji truly was, and if there was any fault, it was that he harbored a particular weakness for deceased women while ignoring the living, breathing one by his side.

In this case, I was the one in front of him, still sitting on a wheelchair in the balmy heat, with my pregnant sister grinning almost laughingly, and a fraction of my body missing.

So, dear audience, why not allow us to continue?

With a softly performed obeisance, Hisana dabbed her beaming lips with a handkerchief, and slowly retreated from me, whispering, "Good luck, little sister," before completely withdrawing herself from the king's presence.

But while she merrily sauntered off into the halls of the palace, I cursed at her bitterly under my breath. Never in my life had I felt such fear and embarrassment, and I desperately wanted to leave, yet King Renji's mere stare kept me anchored to the balcony. For about a full minute, we continued to stare at one another, with an occasional glimpse at the birds fluttering above or a turn of the head. We did not remain in sedate position for long, though, and King Renji grabbed a chair to set beside me.

He settled down, his head lowered and elbows rested on his thighs. The glowing radiance emitted from his flowing hair—one of my favorite traits about him—distracted me for a minute.

Despite all the ordeals and emotional torment he put me through, King Renji was still the most handsome man I had ever seen. His fiery locks, looming stature, and russet orbs outshined both the piercing sapphire gaze of Grimmjow and Ichigo's boyishly charming complexion.

--Pardon me if I sound like some kind of bratty whore who's overtly obsessed with physical features, but I simply cannot help myself—

Had King Renji not abruptly lifted his eyes to look at me, I would have stared at and studied the contours of his silken, crimson locks for an eternity. But, alas, he did eventually break the silence, and, for the first time in a long while, spoke to me. "How is the pain?"

I stared at him, and exhaled softly. "Not too bad," I replied. "Recent surgery has been quite helpful."

"I see."

It was then that I noticed King Renji do something very uncharacteristic of him—or so I thought; he scratched his head.

You see, up until then, I believed King Renji to be this sophisticated, aloof chunk of glacier just like all of his other male ancestors who were distinguished for their biting austerity. It would be revealed in time that he, in fact, is not a chip off the old ice block, especially in terms of character.

"King Renji," I spoke up, seeing him uncomfortably tilt his head again. "Did my sister persuade you to come see me?"

He did not raise his eyes, as if avoiding my gaze, but nevertheless answered, "Yes." He sighed. "Mistress Kuchiki bid me to visit you, even after I refused."

"I apologize," I said. "Hisana has a way with words that is almost spell-binding. I did not mean for her to be so rude as to force you here with me."

"My decision to come here was not forced. I was going to…" He paused and peered up at me, almost innocently. "…see you eventually. Mistress Hisana simply, you know…got the job done quicker." He rubbed the tip of his nose.

"Oh, then…my King."

"Yes?"

"I am sorry for making this so uncomfortable. You may leave if you wish."

"I will not leave," he replied. "Look here, Rukia…"

"Yes?"

King Renji shifted in his seat some more, before finally saying, "I'm sorry."

I swallowed down my gasp and stared straight at him as he fixed the ruffles on his white shirt, as if to conceal his flustered expression while wiping all of the embarrassment off his body.

"Mm, my King—"

"Listen, let's just leave all of this behind us, alright?"

"…You mean…"

"Yes," he stood up from the chair, restless. "I mean let us forget about our quarrels and just do our duty. You're obviously eager to move on just as much as I want to move forward. Considering the assault on my palace and all of this chaos that has emerged, the last thing I want to deal with is an argument with my wife. I take back what I said to you three days ago; you are no longer isolated from the Abarai family."

"I…" I tried to speak, feeling a lump develop in the base of my throat. "…I am no longer a divorcee? So, I will not be removed from the castle and sent back home?"

"…No," He scratched his head a second time. "I wouldn't do that, not to you. And, besides…"

"What is it, sir?"

"You…were never a divorcee." King Renji began to pace around the garden, though still staying within the proximity of my wheelchair. "I couldn't do it; I have to admit that I couldn't. A divorce would be disastrous for both you and me. I would lose the peace between Rukongai and my own country while your reputation would be forever blemished. I may be described as a brash man, but I am not impudent enough to toss you aside and further anger your kind."

"But, what about all of those things you said to me—"

"I was brash, Rukia, and I am sorry." He said, his voice gradually becoming louder. "I admit that I am still very young for someone of my blood, and my boldness will at times stir up problems. Look, you discarding the portrait of Miss Hinamori did indeed irritate me, but I can understand your envy--"

"Please, no." I raised my hand slightly. "Don't, my King. Not her again."

"Does her name make you that uncomfortable?"

"It does," I whispered bitterly. "You have no idea how…how jealous I am of her. You don't understand how much it hurt me when you claimed her as the better woman."

King Renji sighed, "It was a fit of rage, nothing more."

"No, you meant it. And it made me feel horrible—that even in death she could claim victory over me." I paused and peered up at his face.

He looked pained, and I immediately knew what he was thinking: it would indeed be difficult to accept my full forgiveness. "I know you intended to marry her as a boy, even though you were engaged to me. She was your everything, and I was still a girl unknown to you in a foreign country where the people were governed only by their superstitions and hatred. I know that there is absolutely no way for me to compare with her. She is royalty herself, and, though my mother had claim to grandfather's wealth, now that she is dead I am only a poor commoner's daughter."

"Rukia," he interjected. "Please don't talk down about yourself like that."

"It's true, is it not? I am in no way worthy of you or governance over Hueco Mundo."

"Rukia, you..."

"You married me because I was beautiful, and not because of anything I accomplished by myself. And such a fool I was to have thought that you would place me on the same pedestal that Lady Hinamori still stands upon. I thought that, even though I was not of high birth, I would be able to prove myself to you and your people once you were able to know what kind of woman I truly am. But I failed to so many times. And now you come here to reconcile only because you don't want any more trouble from me."

He continued to walk back and forth, unable to face me. "Rukia, for god's sake, what do you want?"

"I want a second chance."

"I am giving you a second chance."

"I want you to mean what you say, King Renji," I gripped the arm of my chair. "Don't shun me anymore, and don't view me as just a wife, or just a queen. Allow yourself to see me as who I am."

"I will--"

"You say that, but I know you...you..."

"What is it?" His voice was trembling.

"You cannot adore a woman who has lost her arm and is plagued by burns. How can you still treat me so when I will never be as beautiful as I was before?"

"You underestimate me, dear Rukia. You are as lovely as you were on our wedding night, when I found you in the wilderness. Although you tried to run from me, your beauty won me over."

"I don't believe it."

"But, isn't this what you want? Reconcilliation?"

"Of course, but how will we continue on if you are not honest with me?"

"What are you saying?"

"I want to know why you will not divorce me, and don't simply repeat what you said before. There must be some other reason as to why you will not leave me. It cannot simply be my beauty, or for the sake of peace. What is it?"

"Rukia..." He sighed and halted his movement. "Rukia..."

"Don't try to slip out of this with sweet talk. I want honesty from you, and not sugar."

"Dear Rukia," He whispered hoarsely. "It is clear that I hurt you deeply, and continued to hurt you after you attempted to gain my forgiveness. I am sorry, love."

"Don't pretend you love me," I cried, angry because he was so tender with me. "You don't. You still want her, and I know that if it were possible, you would trade me over to the devil if it meant that she could be brought back."

"Rukia--"

"Don't call me in such a manner," I barked, though appalled by my own tone. "You know it yourself to be true. I cannot ever compare to her. Fine, so be it. I accept my own flaws as an inferior wife--I am neither modest nor obedient, but I do not want to be seen as an inferior woman."

"You are not--"

"Don't you dare lie to me like a coward anymore. What is it? What do you truly think of me, King Renji?"

It then hurt me to see him standing there, enduring one verbal strike after another and without an ounce of anger in his eyes. He would not fight back, and after my voice died down, he slowly moved forward, dropping his hands to his side. "It is true," he said, shaking his head as if embarrassed and trying to keep his words from spilling. "I do love her, even after these years. And, I just....ugh...damn it all."

At that point I noticed a change in his temperament. Instead of being a sophisticated, baronial gentleman--the persona he exhibited on the first few nights in the palace, King Renji began to present himself as a rather...brash and stark man. His voice was no longer smooth, but coarse and loud. His swagger was unrefined, and he displayed with him an air of ruggedness that was not evident to me before.

"What now?" I asked.

"I hate doing this. I hate having to uncover my feelings for the world to see. It's so...pointless and stupid." He swiftly settled down to massage his head. "I usually need some wine, or...or liquor to help me do this, which is why, on the evening of our dinner...I confess it, I drank and drank and continued to drink to ease my distress."

"What," I began. "What are you saying?"

"What do you want to know?" He asked defensively.

"Are you saying that you were scared of me that evening?"

"Not exactly, but, Rukia, you know..." He peered into my eyes. "You make me weak."

I scoffed. "You're just saying that."

"I am not." he quickly argued.

"You are acting oddly, my lord--"

"I suppose that deep within me I knew that it would take some time to get closer to you. I heard you were a bold woman--someone I am not used to; Miss Hinamori was always very timid. I did not want to seem unfavorable in your eyes, so I attempted to play the part of some gentleman. Shame that I got carried away with my drinking, to the point where I was actually intoxicated, which made us both say some regretable things." He sighed. "As of now, Rukia, I do not love you, and you make it difficult for me to love you, but I will admit that I am guilty of driving a wedge between us as well. It will take some time for us to...to become fond of one another. But, I do know that I respect you for your determination and your strength; it simply is not love right now."

"Oh, King Renji," I bit my lip down. His confession was harder to endure than expected. "You still make me so envious of her. So, you honestly do not love me."

"I would be lying if I said I am madly in love with you, correct?"

"You would."

"I am very honest with you now, like you wanted. Ah, well, it's getting darker." King Renji remarked, about to stand up from his seat.

"Wait," I raised my hand to stop him. "Forgive me, my King, forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?"

"I had no right to raise my voice in your presence. I pray you, forgive me for my barefaced effrontery."

"Agh...don't, Rukia." He frowned. "You didn't do anything to upset me. Now, if we have forgiven one another, please excuse me."

"My King!" I cried, ready to lunge out of my chair and throw myself onto him. I forgot about my poor condition in that moment, and would have collapsed onto the cool marble floor had King Renji not caught me in time.

"Ey! Be careful, you're still healing," He said, gripping my arm. "Rukia, stay seated, please."

"I will, I will, just...please, I pray you stay a bit longer."

"I cannot. My advisors are gathering in the hall right now. I have to go."

I involuntarily clutched at his shoulder, and looked into his handsome brown eyes, saying, "Alright, alright. But, tell me this, we have moved on, correct? There shall be no more pointless feuds betwixt us?"

"If you agree to our peace, then yes." He ungripped his hand, and said, "I believe it would do us best not to continue our quarrels."

"Of course I agree to it!"

"That's good, and I thank you for your time." He peered up at the sky, its golden hue fading into the afternoon. "I am glad we could make up for everything, though it should have been done sooner. If you want, I will give you a proper dinner with me once you heal, or...or maybe even a wedding to replace the last unsuccessful one."

"That's too much, my lord. I am not so fastidious as to demand you to spend more money simply to please me. Just being forgiven is enough."

His face flushed--much to my surprise--and he scratched his head, saying, "Ah, well...if you insist, Rukia."

"I do insist that you forget about the wedding. I never liked weddings anyway." I smiled up at him, so thankful for the peace that was finally established. Taking his hand, I kissed it and whispered, as he pulled away, "Renji..."

"Yes?"

"Tell me," I looked into his gaze. "...when will you fall in love with me?"

Without answering, he chuckled and tilted his head. Before I moved my lips to speak, he said, "You really are pushing me into a corner, having me say the balmiest things."

I did not reply, and smiled sheepishly.

"Well, I don't know. I don't even know if I can think about that right now. But, if it will help you sleep, then I say that I will fall in love with you--after these days, months, and years pass by, it will happen. Well, Rukia," he stood up. "...I must leave now. If you'll excuse me..."

"Absolutely." I replied, watching him walk out of the garden, but glancing back at me before disappearing into the palace.

When he was gone, I held up my hand to my bosom, and peered down at the wedding ring which graced my finger. I took some time to study the diamond fastened to the golden band. And, why not? I had finally been granted what I wanted and worked for. 'Twas a time to be appreciative.

And, like the sweet sense of freedom--freedom from the shackles of guilt that plagued me for such an torturous amount of time--the diamond shimmered beautifully. For the first time in a long, long time, I felt the cleansing rain of happiness showered upon me. It had been so long since I sensed that pleasure!

For that while, I was genuinely grateful, and so very joyous. Perhaps, I thought cheerily, my sister should visit me more often.

She has finally left her wintry hell with papa, though they must come back.

Bells jingle as the vehicle moves awkwardly over the coarse and jagged terrain. It jingles and the sounds keep her from sleeping, but papa says that it keeps bad spirits from taking her.

But, honestly, what spirit would take a girl already deemed ready for the grave? She has turned into a skeleton, with skin as pale as snow, and eyes sunken without a hint of liveliness. She might as well be a corpse, the poor lass.

The unfortunate lass coughs and wheezes as papa holds her, trying to keep her warm under the blankets, yet she continues to shiver. While she trembles uncontrollably, papa sings to her very softly, and though his voice conveys warmth, it does very little good. She is still cold.

With a hacking cough, the girl whispers, "Father..."

"Yes, love?" He answers.

"When will we get off this horrible cart and stop?"

"Soon, go back to sleep."

"I can't. My eyes burn, and I am so very cold."

"I'm sorry, love. Try to be strong, please. We'll be stopping soon."

"I want to go home."

"I know," he answers somberly. "I know, and we will. Shush and rest for now, dear."

She moves a bit under the blankets while still in his embrace. The bells jingle, the winds howl and scrape the land unforgivingly as she continues to quiver. Home, she thinks to herself, is so far away now.

As Grimmjow had stated, the royal guards did indeed arrive at the palace in due time.

I did not expect, however, for a grand parade to take place. It seemed that once those decorated men of war appeared at the gates of Las Noches one frigid dawn after my sister departed, all of the court ladies raced out of their beds and swarmed at the entrance to greet the guards.

The whole of Las Noches was abuzz with mirth, and although many remained shaken up by the disaster a few days earlier, laughter and gaiety flooded the entire palace as the servants rushed about to tend to the uniformed soldiers. Yumichika, of course, was one to join the merriment, especially with all of those handsome men around.

He even had the audacity to drag me out of bed, and demanded that I dress myself into a more presentable manner, for it would be the first time the guards lay eyes on their queen.

I was excited, though anxious at the same time. What would they think of me as their human queen, with a missing arm and burns all over her chest? Oh, it bothered me to no end as I sat on my bed, with the servants slipping on my skirts and adorning my hair.

Yumichika, on the other hand, was overwhelmed with pure excitement, and giddily clapped while pressuring me to hurry--much to the suprise of the other servants who would never dare to speak so harshly to their queen.

"Oh, I cannot continue to wait," He giggled. "This is so exciting. Ah, there has never been a more handsome group of men. Just you wait, Queen Rukia. You will see why I go insane this time of year."

"Hm," I answered placidly, still sluggish and yearning for more sleep. "So they are here for the pupose of strengthing security, correct?"

"Yep," Yachiru chirped while slipping on my shoe. "We can't have you losing your other arm, you know. Hueco Mundo's royal guards are one of the best in the world, mostly because my daddy's one of the commanders."

"Oh?" I remarked, looking down at the pink haired girl. "And who is your father?"

"Adoptive father," Yumichika interrupted. "He's a freakishly tall and muscular man...not all that attractive. Not like the others who are absolutely gorgeous--OUCH!"

The bob-haired man flinched and fell to the floor after being pounded on the head by a flying object. I looked over and saw Yachiru fuming, the other servants appalled by the chaos in my bedroom.

"Don't you dare insult daddy, you ugly pig!" Yachiru shrieked, stomping her foot. "I'll have your pretty ass horse-whipped, you feathered slut!"

"Yachiru--" I quickly interjected, until Yumichika began to scream.

"How dare you hit me, you hussy! And then call me ugly--oh, I'll beat you--!"

"Enough."

I gasped slightly as the servants parted from the door, and turned my head to see that there stood, donned in his casual white shirt and black trousers, with flaming hair tied in a loose ponytail, King Renji himself.

The servants quickly tilted their heads in reverence to the king, and he bid them to leave with a wave of the hand. Yumichika straightened himself, and sauntered out of the room with Yachiru following him. Soon, the King was left with me alone.

I curtsied, and said, "Good morning."

"Good morning, Rukia, how are you feeling today?"

"Much better," I smiled pleasantly. "Although, I do not see the point in having my head so heavy with decorations."

"Ah, but you look outrageously beautiful." King Renji remarked with a mischeivous grin. "You'll have my men equally captivated, and then they'll all pledge allegiance to you and not me."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his words, and when he noticed, asked, "What is it, Rukia? Do I make you laugh so easily?"

"Oh, it's simply your more childish qualities, my King. I am glad to know that my husband is not a pile of frozen ice like you presented on our first evening together."

"Ah, I could not keep that facade for too long no matter how much wine I drank."

It amazed me when he commented on his weakness for liquor so flippantly, but I wondered if demons could handle more alcohol than humans were able to. Nevertheless, I smiled, placed my hand upon his arm, and said, "You are fine as you are now. I don't think I could embrace a block of ice comfortably."

"Hah, Rukia you..." He then took his hand and traced my skin from ear to neck, very gently, as if touching a brittle snowflake. Although I was first surprised by the contact--he had never touched me in such a manner before--I said nothing, and did not move.

I simply breathed and asked, "Is there something wrong, my King?"

"Not at all, Rukia," he replied, smiling with rosy blushes forming on his cheeks. "It's just that...I've never seen you up close like this before."

"Oh, I am flattered. But, my King," I reached for his wandering hand and held it. "You must behave yourself, please."

"Sorry, I am not accompanied by women too often," he said to me, blushing. "But, you know it bothers me to no end that you are still so uncomfortable around me."

"No, Renji," I whispered. "Be patient with me. I am so very tired right now, and very anxious--I wonder how your guards will recieve me."

"Ah, don't worry, Rukia. They will love you."

"Truly?"

"Yes. My men will immediately pledge loyalty to you once they set eyes upon you. And, don't worry anymore about the assassins out there; the guards will gladly throw their lives to protect you."

"My lord," I peered up at him with a hint of somber on my face. "...that makes me feel so unpleasant. I cannot feel too good when I know that so many lives may be sacrificed to protect me."

"What..." He looked puzzled. "What do you mean? Are you saying that you are not worthy of protection?"

"It's just that I hate the idea of using so many people as a safeguard for me. Oh, and then considering all the trouble I've caused..."

"Rukia," King Renji interrupted, and clutched at my shoulders, quite roughly, almost to the point of pain. "Listen to me, don't linger on such things now. That's all in the past, and do not talk down about yourself in that way. You are their queen, and their biggest duty is to protect you. Don't give a damn about those people who tried to destroy you, or what happened. Yes?"

"Yes...I understand," I exhaled, feeling his clutch soften. "Sorry. I get uptight too easily. It was how I was raised. I've never been around such grandeur, so even to this day I feel that I am alien to the palace."

"But you belong here, Rukia." He replied, taking my hand. "And, in time, everyone will love you--including me."

I smiled as he led me out of my chambers and into the main hall of the palace, everything decorated and brimming with liveliness, unlike on the first day I saw it. There was not a single area of the floor uncovered and without a group of idle, chattering courtiers. My maids ran about, and court ladies giggled behind their lace fans while eyeing certain uniformed men who were being warmly welcomed by the king's crowd of advisors.

No one noticed me at first until the king and I began to descend the stairs. Almost immediately, everyone bowed their heads to us.

Once we reached the floor, I noticed Grimmjow ambling towards me with a smile gracing his lips. He tilted his head, then said, "Hello, Queen Rukia, and King Renji. I am glad to see that you are in good health; we have missed you."

"Yes, thank you."

He raised himself up. "My guards have arrived, and they have been anxious to finally meet you."

King Renji walked me towards the group of men, around nine guards gathered near the base of the stairs. I gasped silently as my eyes traveled upwards to see an immensely large man, much taller than King Renji, with dark, spiky hair adorned with small bells, and wearing a black eye-patch. He was covered in scars, from head downwards, and would have frightened me had he not been donned in a handsome black uniform and carrying pink-haired, cherubic Yachiru on his shoulder.

The little maid caught sight of me, and waved effervescently. "Rukia-sama!" she chirped.

"This is Zaraki Kenpachi, my Queen," Grimmjow stated, taking me forward. "He is one of the dual commanders, adjacent to me. Then, Madarame Ikkaku, his lieutenant; Shuuhei Hisagi, second lieutenant, and Soi Fon as captain."

Three individuals emerged to pay obeisance to me: one was without hair, marked with red paint around his eyes and wielding an intimidating scowl on his face, though his actions exhibited the utmost respect for both me and the king. Next to him stood a handsome young man with short black hair and a plain '69' tattooed on his cheek. Last was a slim, plainly dressed girl, seeming much too delicate and young for her work, though she carried with her a domineering aura of superiority.

"The rest," Grimmjow said to me, "are able men whom I have called over to protect you. From now on, these guards will be stationed here for your protection. Do not hesitate to call on them for aid, Rukia-sama."

"Yes, thank you." I then faced the guards. "And thank you for coming. You must all be exhausted from traveling for so long; would you like to rest?"

"Negative," the towering commander said, stepping forward with his arms crossed and a sadistic grin on his crude face. "Being away from the desert is enough rest. We must do what we are expected to do and find your assassin, my Queen."

"Zaraki-san is correct, Queen Rukia," the captain spoke up. "You are kind to offer, but we cannot rest until our investigation is closed."

I lowered my head, and replied, "Yes, of course. You all may do as you please. But, I am not one seeking to sap too much energy from you. I thank you for your work in the country-side, and I pray you all will not regard me as an uninviting host."

"My Queen," Grimmjow began. "You are too kind. My guards are already overjoyed to have the privilege of meeting you in person."

"Oh, and I am so honored to finally meet all of you. Truly, I am--"

"Commander!"

I then stopped, hearing the pounding sounds of footsteps approaching me. The courtiers and servants--everyone--turned their heads to the source of the sudden noise: a blonde, uniformed man running towards Grimmjow, panting.

"Commander!" He cried. "Commander, my apologies, but--"

"Izuru Kira," Grimmjow growled. "Your manners are terrible. Can you not see we are in the King and Queen's presence?"

"I am so deeply sorry," the man said, and faced me. "Queen Rukia, my King, I am sorry--"

"What's going on?" Renji demanded.

The blonde man tilted his head, and said, "I did not intend to interrupt, and I tried my best not to. But, there is a lunatic out on the palace entrance."

"Drive him away," Kenpachi replied coldly. "We are busy; get out and throw him out into the desert."

"The guards tried to, but he attacked one of them, and now he along with the guard are wounded."

"What do you mean one of our guards were attacked!?" Grimmjow angrily exclaimed. "Are you so feeble that you cannot even drive away some deranged beggar?"

"But...but, this transgressor is no simple commoner--why, he was able to sneak past the palace's first line of security," his eyes widened, and he stammered. "This man is a foreign nobleman, and I believe him to be dangerous. Our-our guards are trying to restrain him right now..."

His sudden remark elicited gasps from everyone in the hall, and I froze, unable to process this. I simply did not understand what was happening.

"How dare you," Grimmjow hissed. "Run into the palace like a delinquent and interrupt our meeting with the king and queen over such inane matters. Are you seeking punishment, Kira--"

"Alright, alright, enough..." King Renji quickly held his hand up, immediately quieting him, and stepped forward to ask, "What is his name, Kira?"

"His name..."

"What is this foreigner's name?" King Renji asked again.

"His name," Kira gasped, and looked into my curious, yet bewildered eyes. "...his name is Mayuri Kurotsuchi."

Now, I realize that some of you may be curious about the title for this chapter, and I am glad to explain it. Let me make it clear thar I did not pull it out of my ass, rather, the term "rose-colored" is derived from "rose-colored glasses" which is a synonym for optimism--you know, because this chapter was slightly happier...

...at least in my opinion.

So, who is this Mayuri fellow? Is he evil or good in the story? What do you guys think?

And what exactly are those italicized, third person POV excerpts supposed to be about?

I'd love to know what you guys think.

Anyway, thanks so much for reading!

Once again, please review!

Falling For You

I don't know but
I think I maybe
Fallin' for you
Dropping so quickly
Maybe I should
Keep this to myself
Waiting 'til I
Know you better

I am trying
Not to tell you
But I want to
I'm scared of what you'll say
So I'm hiding what I'm feeling
But I'm tired of
Holding this inside my head

I've been spending all my time
Just thinking about ya
I don't know what to do
I think I'm fallin' for you
I've been waiting all my life
and now I found ya
I don't know what to do
I think I'm fallin' for you
I'm fallin' for you