She was running down the halls of the Spiritual Arts Academy, or "The Academy" as most of the students here thought of it as, pulling the sleeves of her shihakusho on over top of the red and white uniform, amid the chatter of other students. No one looked amiss at this anymore like they had when she had first been enrolled in classes, but the few students who noticed her pulling her division uniform on as she ran merely greeted her with teasing comments about her lateness.
And tonight, she was very, very late.She knew that her captain would be upset when she came back. Not angry. That wasn't like Ukitake-teicho. But he would be very worried about how late her lessons had run tonight. Although, to be honest, it was not her fault that her extra kendo practices ran so late. She had tried as hard as she could, but it was hard for her to mimic the movements that the teachers and other students did with the wooden practice swords. Quite probably because anything longer than the standard katana length swords would throw her off balance. And when they used any of the steel or edged weapons, they had to be shorter yet to make up for the difference in weight. It had been her fault that she had decided to stay and listen to Rangiku-san as she had begun to chatter easily. She had really begun to like the friendly girl who seemed to enjoy making people laugh with the odd combination of half-feigned ditziness and sharp-tongued humor. Lately, it seemed that same friendliness had begun to get her in trouble with some of the students that had been born in Seretei and the lower numbered districts of Rukongai, people who thought that the only souls who should become shinigami were the ones who had the purest blood. An idea which they supported by the sheer number of people who came from those districts to the Academy, versus the handful who came from any district numbered above 30 in any given year. An attitude which had lead her to be more comfortable around the two 'street brats' in their year than she was around any of her other classmates. Part of it was Rangiku being so outgoing, part of it was the fact that the other student who had entered with her was so easygoing, in spite of being so far ahead of Suiren in every field except kidou. Whatever it was, she felt like she might be beginning to trust these students, beginning to have friends again for the first time since she had come here. The thought made her smile briefly, and she nearly ran past the staircase she needed to take, forcing herself to focus as she doubled back, hurrying as she could towards the entrance.
It was beginning to get dark, and in the empty hall, there were no lamps lit for unexpected visitors, or students who were this tardy. By this time everyone else, even Rangiku, had probably headed back to the dormitories for the evening meal. The sound of a girl crying stopped her though. She was already late enough as it was, and teicho would understand her stopping to help. She moved toward the darkening alcove right off the hall, just within the entrance. It wasn't Rangiku there though, but a smaller girl, one who was only a little taller than she was herself, black hair trailing loosely over the battered and tear stained face.
"Please, stop. I was just trying to help my vice-captain by delivering a message."
The words stunned her. This wasn't even another student, but a full shinigami who was being attacked. She wondered if she could get to the dormitories to find someone else who could help briefly before she heard the soft, half-drawled laugh followed by a familiar voice.
"Now, now, Miss Shinigami, I don't think that no one'd be believing ya. Ya know that no students would be round these parts at this time, and it ain't my fault ya did somethin' so stupid as to attack me so close to the door and all."
Suiren felt as if someone had hit her. She knew that voice, had heard him teasing her and Ran both a few hours before. A bit of light from the moon glittered through the window, catching on his silver hair, and any doubt she had about who was hurting the girl broke apart in a sudden painful wave.
Ichimaru Gin.
Not the offhanded joker who she had been thinking of, but someone completely different. He was so cold, so meticulous in spite of the smirk which still was creasing his face, his full intelligence peering through his half shut eyes.
She hadn't been aware that she had even gasped or stepped back until she saw him turn to where she was standing in the doorway.
It was too late to pretend she hadn't seen, too late to pretend she didn't know what he had done. She stood her ground, staring at him. He almost relaxed when he saw her, but none of the warmth that she was used to from him was there as he did so.
"Well, Suiren. My, my. Forgot tonight was when ya normally stay a bit late. Ya aren't gonna go runnin' off to Rangiku 'bout this, now are ya?"
"If you leave her alone, maybe I won't," she agreed hesitantly. She wanted to believe that Gin would not actually hurt her, but she could see the dark edge of blood along the blade of his sword. At least if she agreed, there was a chance that someone might survive. Although, with how badly the young shinigami girl seemed to be hurt, she was not sure that she would be able to do anything in time.
She didn't see Gin use his shunpo to move towards her. She had not yet gotten the hang of anything beyond the basic steps, and could barely cross more than a yard or two in one step most days. As it was, she was barely able to focus on anything other than the sudden feel of the blade against her neck as he stood behind her. And she hadn't even seen him move.
"Ya know, Suiren, I thought ya'd be brighter than that. But, ya know what, maybe yer right. Be a shame to kill ya with how bad Ran is gonna be bound to take it. So, ya don't say a word to her, and maybe I'll let ya be takin' little Miss Shinigami back. After all, she is hurt pretty bad after a nasty fall like that, ain't she."
She shut her eyes and thought about what this meant. He wouldn't hurt Rangiku-san. Even like this, he wouldn't. She clung to the thought, hoping it would be enough. The other girl would bleed to death if she didn't get her out of there soon. She didn't even think as she whispered "Yes."
He left them there, her legs shaking as she bent down to check the other girl. Her pulse was still steady, and her uniform seemed to have taken most of the blood. It was almost as if Gin had known just how to hurt her without leaving enough evidence to trace to him. She shut her eyes and pulled a strong coil of healing kidou to her hands releasing it as she felt the other girl beginning to regain consciousness.
With her black hair and glasses, the other girl looked like might have been half a year older than she was tops, or would if things followed the standards that the souls who arrived here from the living world seemed to expect.
"You fell and got hurt pretty badly," she explained looking at the frightened expression in the serious blue eyes staring at her. "I'm Warigari Suiren."
"Ise Nanao,Eighth division" the other girl managed to get out, taking the arm that she offered to pull herself to her feet. The healing kidou had worked better than she had thought. There was no sign that the girl had done anything other than fall and hit her head. Still, after what Gin had done, she was taking no chances. She walked with her back to her division, hoping that the others in the Thirteenth weren't too worried yet. Nanao ran as soon as she saw her frightened looking vice-captain in sight and Yadomaru-fuiteicho scooped up the girl, listening to half sobbed explanations of how she had been saved after the fall and pleading that she would not be in too much trouble for being late. Somehow, in the course of Nanao's explaining, she had found herself bustled in by the division's vice-captain and captain towards a warm hall smelling of food, while Nanao chattered. She saw the hell butterfly being sent to her captain to explain where she was before she even had a chance to protest, and relief sank in, making the last hour or so seem like a dream. At least her captain would not worry about her here.
By the time Ukitake-teicho carried her, half asleep, from the Eighth a few hours later, she felt that Nanao might have become one of the people she considered friends.
Which, she realized as soon as she met the cold hurt look in Rangiku-san's eyes the next day, might be a good thing, since it appeared the shinigami girl was the only friend she had left.
Suiren shook her head, thinking how little some things had changed since then. It was quite clear how much Matsumoto still hated her after all of these years. That was no great surprise, given how much care Ichimaru had put into making sure that the other woman would never think of believing a word that Suiren had to say. It seemed that some things never would change.
She heard the sound of the door opening and the light sound of shoes scraping gently against the rungs of the ladder, and a sweet feminine voice cursing as her feet slipped in response. It appeared that one of the other constants in Suiren's life had decided to try to come and reason with her. Her suspicions were confirmed when a second later, Rukia's head appeared above the terra cotta tiles, and she quickly scrambled up to where Suiren was sitting. No, not Rukia anymore, but Kuchiki Rukia, she amended to herself as she began to draw the character for water in the blue light kidou that hovered around her hand. Rukia, who would not be here if any of the captains who knew about just how strict the limits that the Central 46 had confined her to were. There was part of Suiren that wondered if the girl had come up to check on her merely because she was a link to Kaein-dono and Miyako-dono, but she brushed it aside. Even if that was the case, Rukia was one of the few people left in Soul Society who cared enough to worry about her.
"Warigari-sensei?" Rukia asked uncertainly, watching in fascination as Suiren continued the careful strokes of her calligraphy.
"It is better for me to be up here, Rukia-san. It would not do for me to get a vice-captain sent back to Soul Society because I could not keep my temper."
"But how can you let her talk about you like that?" Rukia asked, obviously angry on her behalf after the scene downstairs. It was touching, and there was a chance that Rukia would believe the truth. And there was an even greater risk of her being in trouble or hurt if Kuchiki-teicho or Ukitake-teicho ever got word that she had decided to help Suiren. She would not take a lie well, and would probably dig in her heels worse if she ever realized that she was being lied to. Suiren could almost taste the words as she measured them out, carefully weighing each phrase.
"Because what Muhicchi said was true. I am a cold hearted bitch, and have been that way for a long time. There is nothing you or anyone else can do to change that."
"But, you would have protected any of us! You would have helped if you-"
She raised a hand and broke off the younger shinigami's tirade. "No, Rukia. I knew what was happening to you, knew I could have helped. And I did not. I do not know what happened to my heart, but take Muhicchi and Matsumoto at their word. I truly am as cold as they believe."
Rukia blinked at her, clearly wanting to protest and Suiren met her gaze straight on.
"Shouldn't you go back inside to help with the testing?" she asked pointedly.
Rukia nodded, still unmoving. With a sigh, Suiren ended her kidou and grabbed the other girl's wrist, leaning over the edge of the roof, careful to support both of them as she swung Rukia in through one of the windows, the fluttering curtains hanging inside letting her know that Tessai must have reopened the ones she had closed in the shop. She looked at the girl, who had landed in a undignified sprawl inside the shop and sealed the windows shut again with a strong baikkidou.
Cold hearted bitch.
The words were too true to be an insult. After all, only a cold hearted bitch would take the effort that she had to make sure that her friends hated her. It was better than them being dead.
She breathed deeply, ignoring the pain that she felt thinking about why she needed to keep doing this after all this time, and went back to writing.
No one else came on the roof after her.