"What I've learned from seeing common complaints like, 'I don't get why the heroine fell for the hero,' and, 'there's no foreshadowing for this twist,' is that people are fastidious in their desire for a 'fair story.' Despite, 'I don't get why, but yeah, this happened,' being a common thing in reality, in stories it's considered unsightly.

For example, if there was a girl who never looked the protagonist in the eye to her last moments, and in her will it said, 'I always loved you,' I wouldn't want the author to walk me through a whole explanation there. Maybe forty percent of one, at most. I don't want the fun of filling in the remaining gaps to be taken away." Fafoo—

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN BLEACH! I SIMPLY OWN THIS PLOT!

XXX

Chapter 7

"Are you sure you have everything?"

Rolling her eyes, Rukia replied, "Of course, Nii-sama."

"Important contacts?"

"In my phone and a few other places."

"Money for food, gas?"

"There's plenty of food in the house, and I don't have a car."

"A shotgun?"

With a deep sigh, Rukia said, "Yes, Nii-sama. I even have a small picture of Hisana, a cross, a key to every house in the neighborhood, a rape whistle—"

Byakuya arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "I don't find that funny, Rukia. Especially with that boy in the house."

She sighed, rubbing her temples—as if that'd make her brother go away. "For the last time, Ichigo is fine. He's been here for the last two weeks and hasn't tried anything yet. Is that all, Nii-sama?" Her glare told him it better be.

Byakuya sighed—there were other things he wanted to ask about, but if Rukia was anything like Hisana, all these endless questions were probably giving her a headache. "Very well," he reluctantly agreed, his own slate colored eyes closing in agitation. "But if anything happens—"

"Call you. Yeah, yeah, I know. Now get going before you miss your flight!" Giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, she placed her thumb high in the air. "Go kick some ass, Nii-sama!"

Byakuya felt his eye twitch at her vulgarity—most likely picked up from that orange-haired street punk no less—but he decided that she was right—he really didn't have any time left. "Renji!" he called, his voice echoing eerily in the quiet house. "Come on, Renji! I'll leave without you if you don't hurry up."

For a moment, the house was eerily silent. Then, "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. I'll meet you out in the car, Byakuya. Just give me a minute." Then, begrudgingly, "Please?"

Smirking, Byakuya gave a glance that, for once, Rukia didn't want to know what thoughts danced behind those intelligent eyes of her brother. But just as quickly as it came, it left, and Rukia was staring at the Byakuya she'd known her entire life—cold and detached, completely indifferent to everything Rukia had ever done in her life.

The thought stung.

"Uh, Nii-sama…"

"What is it?"

At Byakuya's tone, Rukia glanced up, her own blue eyes widening. He was standing there, a perfect black eyebrow soaring, his own smoldering eyes capturing hers in an intense stare down. No… She couldn't do this to him. Her worries…

She didn't have a place to burden him with her worries.

Giving him a small smile, she said softly, "Come back safely, okay?"

Byakuya opened his mouth as if to say something, but was cut off as a certain red-haired menace came waltzing down the steps.

"Oh man, that felt great! I hope I didn't make Byakuya wait long… Eh, huh? I-is that you, Byakuya…?"

The elder Kuchiki glanced up at Renji, his face blank—he was not amused. "Are you coming today, Renji? Or are you planning on standing up there like an idiot?"

Renji opened his mouth, then closed it, as if he was a fish out of water. "I, uh… well, I…"

Sighing, Byakuya placed his fingers to his temples. "Come on," he said, after a moment, "let's go before we miss our flight. After all," here he smirked, his eyes shining dangerously, "if we get to our hotel early, we might be able to enjoy ourselves a little more…"

Rukia cringed, the thoughts of what that would entail all too clear in her mind. However, Renji's face lit up like a Christmas tree in December, a bright red blush rivaling even his hair, cheeks prominent. With a half-mortified, half-excited nod, he ran down the steps two at time, rushing past both Rukia and Byakuya in his mad pursuit to get away.

Rukia stared after him, her eyes narrowed into slits, her mouth in a bemused half-smile. So that was the person Byakuya had fallen in love with…?

…Right. Best not to dwell on that either.

Following her brother out, she glanced back, her eyes falling on a tiny picture placed precariously under some schoolbooks. That picture.

Heat rushed to her face, and embarrassed, she looked down, her eyes clumsily watching her footsteps as they echoed on the mahogany floor. What was she thinking?! That part of her life was done, long and over with, and yet here she was, still owning a picture of her ex-boyfriend—

"Rukia."

Snapped out of her thoughts, she glanced up, eyes wide, her childish fear that Byakuya had heard her almost too great. She settled dumbly for, "Huh?"

Byakuya's eyes traveled over her, as if checking for injuries, before he sighed and met Rukia's curious gaze. "Rukia, there's something else I wanted to tell you before we take our leave." Renji, the ever curious bastard that he is, glanced out of the car, though much to his credit he didn't say anything.

"What is it, Nii-sama?"

For once in his life, Kuchiki Byakuya had the decency to look… abashed. Slightly mortified, slightly cold, but he looked almost… embarrassed, as if he had to explain to a young child where babies came from. "It has to do with our upcoming party next week."

Seeing Byakuya wasn't going to elaborate, Rukia said, "Well?"

"…"

"Nii-sama, I can't hear you. Can you repeat that?"

Byakuya glared. "I said that Kaien-kun will also be coming…"

The world froze.

Rukia stared at him, her eyes wide, impossibly so, her mouth opened in a surprised half-circle. T-that… That was just some cruel joke…

Right?

"Rukia?"

"Nii-sama…" Her voice was low, like a silent specter, her hair covering her eyes with an ominous foreboding. "Nii-sama, why would you invite him?—After all he did…"

"I'm well aware, Rukia." His voice was clipped, almost as if he was recovering from an illness. "However, the rest of the family practically begged me to let him come—"

"Why do they get any say in it?!" She hadn't meant to come out so excited, but there it was, plain as day. "They don't ever come around here, Nii-sama! Why should they decide who comes here and who doesn't?! They're a bunch of ungrateful bastards—"

"You will not talk about your family that way—"

"THEY DIDN'T EVEN COME TO HER FUNERAL, NIIS-SAMA!" Breathing heavily, it took Rukia all of a second to realize what she'd done, what rules she'd broken. She'd just… yelled at her brother… Nii-sama…

Byakuya-nii-sama…

Frowning, Byakuya gave her a glare that spoke volumes—not anger, hardly not, but a sort of disappointment, as if expected better from an enraged toddler. A toddler—that's what it more or less boiled down to. It was just… how was she supposed to be the bigger person when her family couldn't even do anything as simple as come to their own cousin's funeral? Hisana had helped them more than they'd ever deserved, and yet, she was the dead one now, wasn't she? She'd given everything to this family and yet…!

"Rukia, this is not up for discussion." Byakuya's eyes were like ice, biting into her shearers, his mouth uttering words that would inevitably lead to her slaughter. "Kaien-kun is coming whether you like it or not, end of discussion. I expect you can be civil for just a few hours."

Rukia lowered her eyes, pouting. "Yes, Nii-sama…"

"I can't hear you."

"I said, 'YES NII-SAMA!'" Sarcastically, she gave a two-fingered salute, though at Byakuya's disapproving glance, she gulped. "What I mean to say is, I'll try." Trying to smile, she felt it slide off her face like water. "I'm a Kuchiki, for God's sake! This is child's play for me."

Byakuya nodded. "Good," he whispered, almost too low for Rukia to hear. Then, louder, "Well, I guess I'll see you in a week's time, give or take a few days." Turning his back to Rukia, he went to go into his car, before he stopped himself. With a grin unbeknownst to Rukia, he said, "Also, I left a list of chores I expect Kurosaki-san to finish before we return. Try to keep him in line, understand?"

And Rukia, against her better judgment, chuckled. That didn't stop her heart from feeling like a gaping wound though.

XXX

Four files.

That's all that littered her table, her desk. Usually immaculate, free from any type of distress, this was unusual for the reserved doctor, even to her patients. She'd noticed the strange glances she'd gotten, the curious eyes staring at the desk as if at any second it would stand up and waltz right out of her office. However, nobody was stupid enough to question her motives. Regardless of their curiosity, both her staff AND patients would keep their noses to themselves.

Each file had a picture, a few pages of information, a couple of contacts, and some medical history. The first one was of a picture of a young girl, hardly older than twelve, her cropped hazel hair hitting just above her shoulders. No important remarks. In her picture, but in the next file as well, another young girl was glaring, her pitch-black hair framing her face, mouth set in a scowl. Psychosis—out on remission now. A man, tall and stout, his own beady black whiskers and receding hairline accentuated by a strong jaw, two eyes as though they were smoldering coal. Much like the doctor herself, the man wore a white trench coat, his hand holding a scalpel. The only remarks were that he owned a local clinic over in a nearby town, though it made just barely enough to keep up with all of life's necessities. And finally…

And finally, a young woman—well, not young by today's standards, but her picture was taken quite a few years ago, her own shockingly colored hair rivaling even the sun. Her eyes were kind, her mouth pressed into a small smile—on her hip rested a boy hardly older than five, his thumb in his mouth, his own hazel eyes and bright orange hair reminiscent of his mother's own. On her medical history, large black letters covered the page, making it nearly illegible.

Deceased.

"Unohana-sensei?"

Glancing up, one could instantly tell that this was a different Unohana from the kind and caring practitioner as seen by her patients, the woman of a thousand curses as seen by others. Two small lenses—glasses, corrective reading—graced her features, her white lab coat caressing her chair, a black turtleneck littering her spine. In her hands one of the files remained, its contents heavy, black Sharpie scrawled across the outside like some sort of satanic ritual.

As if burned, she threw the offending document away.

"Yes? Is there something you need, Isane?"

Isane, a tall and somewhat mild-mannered girl of twenty-five, flushed a little, her blue eyes dropping, following the file as it thudded against the desk. "I-I was just letting you know that I was leaving, Unohana-sensei." Here she paused, the grand debate of whether to ask about the file weighing heavily in her heart. "I, uh… Are you sure you don't need any help? I-I can… stay… if you need me…"

Unohana smiled benignly. "Thank you for the offer, Isane, but I think I can handle it from here." Staring at Isane's face, she noticed her gaze was glued on the document nearly three feet away, her eyes wide, like a doe. Clearing her throat, Unohana said, "Isane, it's very impolite to ignore your senior coworker when she's speaking to you." And though she smiled, the very air around her seemed to condense, to twist and morph, like a passage to some fantastic world.

At this, Isane jumped, apologizing profusely. "I-I'm sorry, Unohana-sensei! I just… I… you're looking into the Kurosaki case-file, right…?"

"Yes. What of it?"

"Well, I…" As if gathering all her courage—rather, the entire courage of the world, she said, "I just think you're overdoing it. Hanataro-san…" And here Unohana's ears perked up, the realization that Hanataro never talked about her clear as day. "He said that lately, you haven't been sleeping well. Is there…" Isane swallowed. "Is there something the matter?"

Unohana looked at her—really took in her appearance. Multiple questions plagued her mind. Who did this girl think she was, being so forward to ask and even rebuke her senior advisor when she was still only a nurse in training? What gave her the right to think she had enough power and authority to question Unohana's own?

But most importantly… Was Isane a girl that could be trusted?

Unohana decided that that was the case, much as she was loathe to admit it, the sparkling honesty in those two blue irises enough to change even a convict's way of life. Isane was, in a sense, one of Unohana's few actual friends, despite their age and rank difference. Or, at the very least, a coworker she would trust with many of her patients' lives.

"Okay." Her voice was low, impossibly so, her eyes darting nervously to the window, to the cutting darkness. But as she glanced out, movement caught her peripheral. With hardly any change to her expression, she turned to Isane.

"I'm fine, really." She smiled. "I'm just trying my hardest to help Kurosaki-kun return to his family." At Isane's shocked expression, Unohana smiled. "My oh my. I don't think I was supposed to tell you that much."

Isane's eyes were wide, like a child's. "S-so you're saying… that Kurosaki-san's parents… are alive…?"

With a half-abashed shrug, Unohana smiled, standing up to her not-so-imposing five two and a half. "I'm afraid I can't disclose that information to you, Isane-san." The formality was a warning; because besides that, Unohana's face gave away no inkling to what she was thinking.

Isane stared, the inner struggle of arguing with Unohana and just going on her merry way weighing all too heavily in her heart. Finally, she smiled. "V-very well, Unohana-sensei. I'll be taking my leave now."

Unohana smiled. "Thanks for the hard work."

"You too!"

And then, much like before, she was alone, completely and utterly alone in this office, her only companions those four files and the whirring of some forgotten fan. She watched, a smile playing at her lips as Isane entered the seething darkness, her gait lanky and uneven, like a newborn giraffe learning to walk. Finally, after a moment of shuffling for her car keys, she cursed triumphantly and entered the car, her taillights almost like a beacon to a sailor out at sea.

Then there was nothing.

"You can come out now," Unohana said, her voice still so very sweet, her mouth curved in a smile. "Or do you plan on hiding from me all night?"

There was no answer, but not like she expected any. Covertly, she glanced back, her eyes narrowed, face still set in that terrifying smile. She could feel a presence as it came closer and closer, watching her, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Like a lioness out in the savanna, the predator's eyes were gazing at Unohana, a sort of hungry bloodlust exuding from them, the only warning that the prey would die the feeling of those eyes. Turning around, she expected to see some seething visage of a spirit or perchance a wild animal's eyes trained on her back—

No one was there.

"Hello…?" Her voice echoed loudly, the only sound her quiet breathing. She'd felt someone, she knew. So why couldn't she feel them now? Had she been imagining it? Or was she just paranoid? What was going on—?

Darkness.

With a little curse, Unohana started, surprised at the sudden blackness. A power outage? Surely not, given it was a perfect summer night, the moon shining brightly with no clouds in sight. What would cause a power outage…?

And then, a squeak. The sound was loud in the quiet space, like a lion roaring in a library. Her eyes widened, and she whipped around, fully prepared to take on her attacker, her eyes finding difficulty adjusting the darkness. She couldn't see, she couldn't see…!

And then, quickly, with hardly any time to react, she felt a hard blow land on her cheek. Her glasses skittered across the floor, her mouth opened in an inaudible gasp. Her neck stung, but what had hit her felt like ice, cold fingers. What was it? It had to be an intruder, didn't it? But without her glasses, she couldn't see much of anything, even if the lights had been on. All she could feel was her neck, stinging painfully, her own breathing labored.

And suddenly, she caught a dark shadow out of her peripheral. Whipping around, she wasn't fast enough as a blade struck out, leaving a bloody trail against her cheek. That was close, she realized, too close. If it had just been a few inches closer…

The blade struck out again, and this time, she had just enough time to raise her arm in defense. It wedged deep inside, causing a pained gurgle to leave her mouth, though it was only a cursory wound, superficial at best.

Even so, it hurt like a bitch and she was just a second behind as another knife—how many did he have on him, exactly?!—dug into her stomach, causing her to slump to her knees in pain. Her chest was convulsing, though not from fear—pain, sure, but anger, the feeling of rage and wanting to rip her assailant apart growing stronger by the minute. She was prepared for another knife…

But instead, the assailant kicked the blade, causing a wail to erupt from her throat. She landed on her back, unable to stand up, her eyes flickering wildly in the inky room. Another blow connected with her side, another dug the knife deeper into her arm… She was going to die. She was… going to be killed…

And then, a pause came in the assaults. She looked around, trying to find her phantom assailant, but in such circumstances, the best she could was hold her baited breath. Black danced at her edges, the room spinning, spinning, spinning—

Don't you dare pass out, she growled out, teeth clenched. If you pass out—!

And then, she saw it. She saw him, for what else could he be, with such height and build? He towered over her, metal glinting in the moonlight, and she imagined his eyes were wild, crazy. That was the extent of her sight though. No discerning features, no distinguishing characteristics…

Just the fearful sight of a knife, ready to dig into her body, ending her life once and for all…

No! I can't—

But the blade dug in, effectively cutting off both her silent protests and her flickering consciousness. With one last, final glance, she caught the familiar sight of bright orange hair…

And then, nothing. The world was black.

XXX

So hey guys… Officially, this is the absolute newest content for "To be Indifferent." If you read the original "To Be Indifferent" I would recommend reading the entire story (because I worked hard on the rewrite) or to start here if you want to continue reading from where you left off.

Also, a note; please take notice that I am changing the genres from "romance and friendship" to "romance and suspense." This chapter dabbles into that, and I promise all will make sense the more you read. The idea for the rest of this story hit me far from left field one day, and I must say, I'm excited for all the twists and turns to come.

So stay tuned, hold onto your reading glasses, and watch for the thrills to come!

THRILLS.

THEY'RE COMING.

WATCH THEM.

And let me know what you guys think about the suspense in a review! :D