A/N: Hey guys! Very sorry about the missing chapter. I tried uploading it three separate times but the chapter was full of code for some reason. Hopefully everything is all good now. Happy reading!

,-,-,-,

XI. Suspicious

Ichigo came in just seconds after his father left the room.

"What did he want?" He asks with concern in his voice.

"My silence," I reply while staring at the bandaged nub that was once my arm. Isshin Kurosaki paid off the security in order to keep everything under wraps. A part of me is relieved, feeling like I just got let off the hook, but most of me feels gray. Mere days in a cell wasn't enough to justify what I had done. I'm glad word hasn't broken out, though, or Ichigo's life would have never been the same. Who knows what The Embassy would have done.

"I figured as much." Ichigo whispers under his breath and sits down in a chair on the right side of my cot, giving him full view of my mutilated arm. I take a blanket and carefully place it over the rest of my limb. Out of sight, out of mind. It was already starting to hurt less, but I'm guessing that's just the Supresin allowing me to adapt to the pain.

I look at Ichigo, resting his eyes with his head against the wall. He looks ragged. Wild. It reminds me of a time before him, before the shuttle, before any of this. It reminds me of home.

.-.-.-.

A missile hit close to my neighborhood just weeks after my 21st birthday. It didn't kill us, but it shattered everything. There were holes in the walls and the water didn't work anymore. Not like it had for years, but whatever we had left in the pump tank was destroyed. My world was covered in a choking layer of dust. For days we wiped down every surface, but the dust always came back in dry sheets. Dust… mostly dead skin. Too much dead skin.

The TV miraculously still worked because of the rabbit ear antennas, but it only ever played the same damn commercial over and over again. That's all that had ever been on as long as I could remember. The stars could be yours! Board today, and survive the future!

I wished for a shuttle to come to my house on every birthday. I brushed a stubborn band of black hair away from my eyes and peered out one of the many holes in my bedroom wall just as a warm splatter of blood hit me on the cheek and a slow, tortured gurgle came from just beyond. Shit.

Nobody has been in this area for a while after the blast. Many thought my mother and I were crazy for staying, but we had nowhere else to go. We have always belonged to Rukongai. I had thought we were safe, at least for tonight. I reach under my mattress and bestow a long, crooked knife before shoving the curtain aside that was my door. I stalked over to my mother who was passed out on the rotting couch with an empty bottle resting on her chest. I took the bottle and set it down by her side and then peered past the TV to the wall beyond, which was riddled with bullet holes. A shadow passed through them and I knew someone was coming. I grasped the handle of the knife even tighter in my hand and braced myself.

A lone figure appeared from the night and is now bathed in the flickering light of the television playing the same damn commercial.

"The stars could be yours!"

Light glared off the tip of the figure's knife which is smothered in hot red blood. There was a heinous look in his eyes as he stared at me. Then he eyed my mother who was still passed out on the couch and then the storage container in front of the television where we kept what's left of our food and water. His eyes fixated on that container holding our survival and lunged for it.

The television calls out. "Board today, and survive the future!"

I ran toward the container as well. I couldn't let him have it. My stomach rumbled with just the thought of its loss. He hits the lock on the container with the blunt side of his weapon, breaking it quicker than I imagined he would.

"For just two hundred thousand yunjen, you will be accommodated in large, exquisite housing!"

I'm on top of him now, prepared to strike. Just as my arm swooped down to mutilate him, he threw an arm behind his back and grabbed a hold of my hair. He grasped it tight and tossed me over his shoulder, pummeling me into the ground and knocking back every breath I took. I turned into the fetal position gasping for air and tried to orientate myself.

"The shuttles come complete with their own state of the art hospitals, restaurants, activity centers, and more! Place your order online or tell your nearest Ether provider."

He grabbed a sack full of food and a liter of water and took off.

"The stars could be yours!"

I couldn't let him get away. In one last ditch effort, I threw the knife at his back and a sickening squelch burst from his spine. The figure groaned, dropped the sack, and fell face first into the dirt of our home. Dust billowed around his body and then settled on top, stagnant and dead. One final groan, and then there was silence.

"Board today, and survive the future!"

I got up shakily, picked up the sack, and then tore the knife out of his body. I stared at the glistening liquid that dominated my once clean knife. What should have felt like a victory, or even justice, felt like heavy melancholy. The knife slipped out of my hand and clattered to the floor, welcoming back its brother, a pool of red.

"Rukia?" I heard my mother slur her words from the couch.

"Yes, mother." I stated.

"Bottle."

"Yes, mother." I said glumly. I scavenged through what remained of our cabinets and the container by the TV and found a bottle of her favorite. "Here you go."

As I handed her the bottle, the television started to glitch. The words flashed over and over against the screen and the light practically burned against my eyes. A happy man with bright eyes and the pearliest whites I had ever seen stared into my soul from beyond the screen. Even then, I knew that it would be forever engraved into every cell of my being.

"Survive the future! Survive the future! Survive the future!"

.-.-.-.

I spent a week in recovery, constantly drinking that silvery liquid that I first received when I woke up. What's left of my arm doesn't hurt anymore, surprisingly. Sometimes, I even feel an itch where my right hand used to be. Slowly but surely, I'm able to rise out of bed and dress myself. I lost my dominant hand so it's going to take some getting used to using the left arm for everything instead of the right. I turn towards a mirror and slip my half-arm into the arm hole of a plain black t-shirt, watching it glide through easily like a peg in a hole. I stare at the lump and try to ignore the more prominent lump in my throat.

From the side, a door creaks open and shuts quickly.

"Hey," Ichigo whispers as he approaches me from behind and looks into my eyes through the mirror. He looks much better today, with his hair looking soft and combed through and his eyes a bright white and no longer rimmed with red. He must have finally showered and slept a little. He had been by my bedside as much as he could this past week without seeming suspicious to the other doctors, nurses, and possibly an Embassy worker that could be sneaking around. We didn't say much during those days, mostly because I was sleeping heavily but partially because there was a blanket of uncomfortable air over us since he was given the first strain of Supresin. He isn't mean to me, even giving slight touches on the shoulder, hip, and cheek from time to time, but he still seems to carry a certain resentment for me that is more than deserved.

"Hi," I whisper back.

"Ready to leave? I'll escort you to your room."

I nod, giving the nub on my arm one brief touch of finality. As soon as I leave this room I'll be rebranded as different from what I was before. The labels tagged alongside my name-or what's left of it- is growing longer and longer. Lab rat. Rebel. Murderer. Amputee.

I turn and follow Ichigo out of the room that I've been stranded in for days. Walking out into the hallway was like a breath of fresh air and I relish it, but the feeling is soon dampened by the weighted eyes that follow my every move. Before the gravity shift and the loss of my arm, I would receive a few wayward glances from the other passengers on this shuttle, but now all eyes are on what's left of me and I feel naked under their gaze.

"Can we go faster?" I whisper loud enough for Ichigo's ears only. He doesn't say anything and picks up the pace without complaint. We briefly pass the subject's hallway on the way and I scan the rows of frosted glass coffins that line the hive-like walls from floor to ceiling. The floating silhouettes of my kind bob effortlessly in the viscous goop of immortality. Ichigo's back is turned to me and still leading the way. His head swivels on its axis and he scans the subjects as well. Hairs rise on the back of his neck and his pace becomes faster. I'm about to ask him what's wrong but I already know the answer to that question.

Before long, we arrive at my room on the deserted floor of the Living wing. Ichigo opens the door and ushers me inside before closing the door behind him. The room has a musty smell to it, having not been used for weeks because of my incarceration and then my stay at the Hospital wing. I'm usually only in here to sleep, but I feel comforted by these four walls that have enclosed me in slumber. I sit down on the edge of the bed, clutching the end of my half-arm. It's hard not to touch it because it seems so alien, it's like my mind is still trying to figure out why it's gone.

After a brief moment of silence, Ichigo speaks.

"I arranged for you to talk to someone today," Ichigo says as he sits in an armchair chair by the door.

"Who?" Eyebrows raising.

"Nel," Ichigo says while wringing his hands and looking anywhere but at me.

"The little girl that lost her arm? Renji's kid?" I ask.

"The one and only. I thought it would benefit both of you to talk…" He says. "Renji already agreed to it. He seems to like you after you helped him back in the Operating Room."

"Oh." It's surprising that anyone would even stand to look at me at this point, after everything that has happened. After everything I have done. While I usually don't like to talk to children very often, it might bring us both some comfort to talk about our shared situation and maybe talking to Nel would give me a fresh outlook on my most recent mutilation.

"They're coming up here to talk, away from prying eyes, in about an hour. It's not really considered appropriate for you to talk to a passenger that isn't assigned to you, which is why we can't do it in public."

His words are scathing and remind me of my status on this shuttle: lab rat with too much supresin in her system and absolutely no say in anything. Great. Ichigo seems to sense my distaste and rises from the chair to sit down next to me on the bed. I feel a charge surge through my body as his weight causes the mattress to shift and I unwillingly ease closer to him as a result. He seems to notice this charge too as his eyes lock with mine. My breaths quicken.

I try to think of something to say fast before my body betrays my mouth.

"Remember what you told me?" He moves a stray strand of hair away from my face, and my body betrays itself anyway, causing my cheeks to flush red.

"What?" I barely manage to push out the word.

"We're not corpses, Rukia."

My eyes meet his again and that's it. All the tension and anger and guilt wash away to make way for one strong emotion that I haven't felt in years- need. Our lips lock and this time it wasn't because of an alcohol-induced mistake. This time I wanted to, and so did he. His fingers find their way into my hair, pulling slightly at the roots as my left hand paws at his lean chest. I feel his lungs expand and dissipate rapidly under my touch as I deepen the kiss. He moans slightly in my mouth and uses his other hand to slide under me and pull me into his lap. I break the kiss with a gasp of surprise before returning to him. He seems as eager as I am, which confuses me. There has always been a tension between us but I could never tell what his intentions were. Maybe he didn't know himself, so fuck it.

His hands roam my entire body, trying to feel every piece of me. His hand pauses on what's left of my right arm, and I tear away from him, looking into his light brown eyes with a small sense of fear and dread.

He caresses the remains of my arm, cupping the end with his hand and giving it the lightest but most reassuring of squeezes before placing both hands on my back to move me even closer. Still on his lap, I grind softly against him before I even realize that I'm doing it, causing Ichigo's breath to hitch in his throat.

"Stop." Ichigo breathes against me. I still completely.

"What is it?" I ask. And then I hear it: footsteps from down the hall, coming closer and closer.

"Shit, they're early." Ichigo carefully slides me off of him, gets up, and straightens his shirt and hair. I try to do the same as a knock comes from the opposite side of the door. Ichigo gives one quick glance at me before stating "come in," in his most professional tone. Nel walks in slowly, seeming very shy. She's dressed in a cute and frilly mint green dress with tiny little white shoes. She immediately hops up onto my bed and sits beside me, eyes wide and curious. Renji stalks in after her, closing the door tightly behind him.

"Sorry we're early, this is the only time I could get away from Momo without her becoming suspicious."

"A breeder keeping something secret from his partner? You're kidding." Ichigo mocks.

Renji simply rolls his eyes. "At least I have kids, dude. I'm helping to expand the race, unlike you."

"Your children will die if I don't do the work I was born to do." Ichigo's jaw is taut as Renji stares him down. The tension in the air isn't malevolent, but almost playful as if these two men like raking each other over the coals.

"Guys, relax," I say to the men who continue to glower while trying to hold back smirks. I point to Nel, who is transfixed on my half-arm with large eyes. "She may have lost an arm but she's not deaf. How are you, sweetie?" I pat her on the head and she looks up at me.

"Where's your arm?" She asks.

"It's gone, like yours."

"Like mine?" Nel stares at where her appendage should be.

"Yes." I move it as much as I can to show her that it's real, and not just an illusion manufactured to make her feel less alone. I feel wordy, almost preachy, with this child but words start to come out of me like vomit when I realize that I actually have a lot to say. "I used to have one just like you but it's gone now."

"You went splat?" Nel claps her hands together. Renji covers his mouth with a tense hand and I cringe as well. Memories like that are best keep under the surface.

"Yeah, Nel, I went splat. But you know what?"

"What?" Nel breaks out of her quiet shell for a moment and flashes a small, toothy grin.

"That doesn't make us any less, does it?"

Nel seems confused. "All the kids stare at me. They didn't stare when I had my arm."

I pull her close, giving her a hug from the side and pat her on the shoulder. "They just want to look because they fear what they don't know and what they can't understand."

I look up at the two men standing by the door. Ichigo has a warm smile set on his face while Renji stays stagnant and waiting.

"I think they might even be jealous. You're going to get a new arm soon, aren't you?" I ask. The doctors had mentioned that they would be able to develop a prosthetic, but it would take a few weeks to perfect the measurements. Nel should be getting hers any day, now.

"Yeah…" Nel fidgets and swings her legs that hang over the bed.

"Don't be scared. It's going to be greater than you could ever imagine." I pat her on the head again and smile. "I'm going to get one, too. I'm so excited."

"You are?" Nel brightens up.

"Oh yeah. Everyone is going to be jealous of my new arm. They're going to wish they had one."

"Really?" Nel smiles another toothy smile.

"Of course. Nobody in the universe is lesser or greater than you are."

Nel's grin expands even more and she gives me a full on hug. I return it and glance back up at Renji. He wipes his eyes and then recovers himself, turning on full breeder mode.

"Okay, Nel, we have to get going, now." Renji's voice cracks.

"Why, papa?"

"Mom is cooking up something awesome for you, and the subject and her doctor are very busy."

"Okay, papa. Bye, subject!" She waves at me with her good arm and then grabs onto Renji's hand. He opens the door and looks both ways down the hall to make sure no one was around to see them leaving a subject's room. He ushers Nel out and then turns to me with a look of fatherly relief.

"Thank you, Rukia." Renji says.

I nod, and he leaves. I clutch my half arm with my hand and stare at the door, listening to Nel's tiny footsteps recede alongside her father's. The gray guilt settles deep into my marrow again and I'm not sure why. I sigh, rising from the bed and cracking my back. Spending days in a bed with nothing to do but recover really did a number on my spine.

"How do you always know what to say?" Ichigo striding closer.

"What do you mean?"

He quotes me. " Nobody in the universe is lesser or greater than you are."

"I was just trying to help a little girl feel better."

"You're doing more than that." He presses under my chin and pulls me up for a soft kiss, leaving butterflies in my stomach. "I hate to admit this, and I'll never live it down, but I missed you when you were gone. We were together practically twenty-four seven for weeks. Granted, it wasn't usually under the best circumstances for both of us, but…" He pauses, looking into my eyes. "I missed you."

This wasn't the need I felt before, it was a feeling of want, but I do my best to press it back. I have to be smarter than this. He's practically been bred just to use me as a piece of meat, and a part of me can't trust him because of that. For all I know, these were simply words to get something he wanted, it being my body, my allegiance… my silence. Being involved with Ichigo this way could get us both punished and right now it wasn't worth the risk. As much as I wanted to feel wanted, I needed to keep my head straight.

I try to change the topic. "Would have been nice if Nel called me something other than a subject but I guess I'll take what I can get at this point."

Ichigo seems confused at my formality and leans away from me slightly. "Renji made the right decision calling you a subject in front of her. If she knew your name and saw you in the halls, she'd call out to you. We have to be careful."

"Exactly." I put more distance in between us and he automatically inches closer before realizing what he was doing and stepping back to give space. "I don't know how I feel about…" I wave at his figure with a flutter of a hand. "This. I can't trust you."

Ichigo paws at the back of his neck and his eyes shift toward my shoes.

"You're right." He sighs. "You're always right."

Just then, Ichigo's digital notepad beeps loudly from across the room. Ichigo rushes over to it and types in it quickly before swearing under his breath.

"What is it?" I ask with wide eyes at the sight of sweat starting to perspire on Ichigo's brow.

"It's a message from Uryu. He's giving me a heads up." He turns around and combs through his hair like a madman and then takes his shirt off and tosses it aside. I try my best not to be tempted to watch the hard lines of his back move as he rummages through his drawers.

"You're insane." I tease, trying to cover up my nervousness.

"It's the Embassy." He throws on a crisp white button-down shirt and tucks it into his black pants. He loops a belt through and clasps it tight. "They want to question me about my absence… when I was in the stasis tank."

"Fuck." My blood runs cold.

.-.-.-.

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I'm going to try my best to update faster. Please leave a review and tell me what you think of this chapter! Reading your reviews gives me such motivation to write! Also, I'd like to know: What do you think is going to happen with the Embassy? Who do you think leads it? - Liym