"Kisuke."

Urahara ignored the call of his rarely-used first name. He knew exactly what was coming.  He had never been able to deny her anything before but there was a first time for everything and he had always been a rule breaker.  He couldn't stay an orphan in Rungokai, he couldn't stay a Captain in Soul Society, why would he stay in a cheap hotel room while the rest of them went off on some wild adventure that had a good chance of getting them killed? His left side was severely weakened but his right side seemed to be okay, as long as he braced his left side against something--

"Kisuke!" suddenly she was in front of him, gold eyes spiting all the worry and anger that his name could not convey. 

"Ah, Yoruichi," he began, hoping the breathlessness in his voice wasn't apparent.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" she demanded, her voice rising through he doubted she realized it, "are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

Her voice was almost desperate on the last  note. Though he had hobbled back into her life, all Yoruichi could see was him being dragged away with the green of his robes being darkened by his blood.  He had almost died and for what? For them to loose? What if they lost now? What if they won? If they won and her heart still beat while his didn't--oh God she couldn't even think about that. And now he was trying to figure out how he could fight when he couldn't even stand properly. He wouldn't listen to her whens he told him to stay home, she knew that. He had always been ten thousand times more stubborn than she gave him credit for and she, she had always cared for him ten thousand times more than she thought he'd ever know.

"Now now, Yoruichi," he said with a smile, "I'll be fin--"

"Don't lie to me," she said, her gold eyes inches from his.  It had the intended affect as he lost his balance.  She barely managed to slide a chair underneath him, "you can't even stand!" 

Gritting his teeth Urahara was forced to agree--no matter how much he didn't want too. It was a ridiculous idea going into battle in his condition but it was not as though there was anything to be done about it. Not unless--

"Where's Hanataro?" he demanded pushing himself to his feet.

"The other--no," she said blocking his exit, "you're not going to get healed."

"Yes I am," he said stepping forward on his cane.

"No you're not."

"Yes."

"No."

"Ye--"

"Damn it Kisuke! You can't ask me to watch you die again!" she cried, something almost desperate, almost broken in her voice, "you can't."

It was like all those days of being so impossibly strong for everyone else were suddenly piled on her chest. It was the only way to explain the heaviness there, the choked feeling in her throat. How every breath seemed to be more ragged than the last. 

Like he had told Ichigo, their relationship was not a stated thing.  How could it be? He had been many things in his life, none of them particularly worthy of courting a Princess, even if she hadn't acted like one since she was very young. They had both lost many things, gained some as well.  The world hurt them and occasionally they were able to get a little revenge but it usually didn't work out.  He remembered the painful long nights when she first left him, saying she needed time.  He knew she was afraid of her feelings and he knew it would be a lie to say he wasn't a bit honored that he made her feel that way. He had let her go because, because well he had always been a fool for her. 

"I know," he said walking up so that her back was closer to his front, "and I promise to do my best to stay alive--"

"Then stay here," she whispered, her voice ragged, "don't go, don't fight."

"And leave you to fight alone?" he slipped the barest note of teasing into his tone, "how could i do that?"

"Then I won't fight."

Whatever he was going to say died on his lips as her desperate barter hung in the air.  When they had first ran there had ben an unspoken agreement that if one went back, the other would be there too.  They had fixed themselves to one another.  Even if they were apart they would return to one another in the long run. It was that knowledge that got him through the years of separation, the night of loneliness and pain. He almost had not returned and that had been hard on her, much much harder than he realized it could have been. She seemed surprised at it too and he found himself irrationally glad he wasn't the only one horribly confused at the emotions churning through him.

"We have to fight," he began.

"No we don't!" she turned around.  He had never thought the harsh light of the cheap hotel room would be beautiful. But reflected in her eyes, it was, "we don't," she repeated, "I choose you over them before, I would again," she took a breath, not looking like the composed, untouchable woman life had made her but the innocent girl he had fallen in love with a very long time ago, "this has to end, I know the Winter War will end it but--but then what? Are we going to go back to Soul Society? Are you going to become a scientist again? Am I going to be a Princess?" her eyes sought his, "what will happen?"

"Who knows?" he said with a half shrug. She glared, flickers of anger returning under the barely contained tears, "I like to think we're too old to be constrained by those rules anymore," he leaned against the wall, "I bet they'll rebuild Kakura town, soon, and I'll open the Urahara Shop again. Maybe they'll be another bad guy, another Ichigo Kuroskai down the road who'll come to me for help."

"That won't happen if we fight,:" she said, "they'll make us come back. They'll--" she trailed off.

They both knew what waited them.  Redeeming her Clan, an arranged marriage, a life of a Princess. She would regain her Captaincy most likely and all Soifon had done would be considered inconsequential. He would probably have his name cleared, be an inventor and spend hours in a lab.  They would drift apart until their relationship became nothing more than polite nods and murmured conversations at parties they were both forced to attend.  It was not a life either of them would want. 

It was not a life either of them could bear the thought of.

"I can't loose you," Yoruichi repeated, her voice nothing more than a whisper as though she was ashamed of how her emotions got the better of her, "not again, not to them."

He nodded, hardly trusting his voice.  He knew she was speaking of Soul Society, of the respective lives they had been born into that would never allow them to be together. But if they ran--if they left---the possibilities were endless. 

But at what cost?

"Yoruichi," he sighed, his mind preparing the protests his lips could not form. 

"You two should go."

They both turned to see Shinji leaning against the door. 

"You don't stand a chance against Aizen," he said pointing at Urahara, "and you--well, you ain't gonna stand a chance either if he's in trouble," he  crossed his arms, "besides, we need a contingency plan."

"Huh?" Urahara stared at the former Captain.

"What? You didn't really think Hiyori and I were going back to Soul Society did y--what was that for?!" he demanded when Hiyori backhanded him.

"Don't make decisions for me idiot!" she snapped, "I'm not going back either."

"Damn it that's what I just said!"

"Shut up!" she looked at Urahara, "and if Mashiro and Kensei are there, they won't wanna go back either."

"Yeah," Hiyori said, "and don't forget. Soul Society loves its scapegoats.  We might have to do some rescuing ourselves before this is over."

Break

The following night was the same. Byakuya not wanting to sleep until he had too and Hisana, wanting nothing more than to be near him would somehow wind up on the roof. Hisana didn't know how long she stood next to Byakuya with their hands intertwined, watching the stars and neon of the city that surrounded them like the Sakura tree's once had. She just knew that one moment she was content and then the little voice in the back of her mind spoke up once more. 

I won't have either of you going through more pain because of my decisions

Before she could stop herself Hisana pulled her hand away and stepped off to the side.  She couldn't think when he was so close.  She couldn't bare to look at him, at the hurt she knew was barely showing in his eyes.  Even she could see how different he was, how much the years had hurt him. She imagined that she was different as well. What had happened had hurt them both so much, how could they not be? But if they were so different. how were they to ever be like they once were? If she was not the woman he married, nor he the man she did, was there even a point in being near each other?

"Hisana--" 

"I'm leaving again!" she cried, shutting her eyes against the stinging.  Why was this so hard?, "the battle's going to come and when it's over my body is going to degrade and I am going to die," her voice broke on the last word, "we shouldn't make this harder than it already will be."

"It will be hard, regardless," he stated, his voice the same cool tone he had been using since their reunion. 

"Why are you doing this?" Hisana demanded, trying to focus on what she had to say, "we can't make this harder than it already will be."

"Why can't you look at me?" came the inquiry.

"Because when I look at you I'm powerless," she whispered, "when I look at you, I can't think, I can't move--I can't do anything!" the emotions she was barely keeping at bay surged up and threatened to swallow her, "I know its wrong, I know it shouldn't be like this but when you're close--" her inhale was ragged, "I know I'm going to be leaving.  Its pointless."

Watching Hisana struggle with her emotions was almost more that Byakuya could bare.  He had fifty years to struggle with what happened, to accept that Rukia was a different person, to atone for his mistakes. He had a family, he had friends. Hisana had not had that luxury.  He knew the initial cause of their relationship had haunted her.  She had given up so much to be with him and she had suffered for it. She was so impossibly strong, even standing on the roof shaking, she was much, much stronger than he could ever hope to be. He didn't want to go against her wishes, not when she was once again suffering for him, but he could not just leave her standing there so close to tears.  

He remained behind her as he closed the difference and reached out, wrapping his arms around her.  He felt her shudder at the contact but only pulled her tighter against him.  The few wounds he had stung at the contact but he couldn't be bothered with that.  He had always been the strength. To Rukia, to Renji, to countless others.  He may have abhorred that title once but not always--not now. Not when he could repay a fraction of the strength Hisana had given him.  

"You are different as well," he said.  Hisana nodded, "we are both different people."

"I knew it would be, if we ever met again," he felt her shudder against the expanse of his chest, "but I didn't expect it to hurt so much."

What neither of them mentioned was the feelings racing through them.  Fifty years of absence, of sorrow, of pain with only the barest of touches in the short time they had been together--suddenly being pressed so close together was almost intoxicating. Hisana felt powerless but not just in the bad way.  She felt powerless in the dizzying haze of her thoughts, in how her knees suddenly seemed incapable of supporting her firmly, in how even under the hotel shampoo his hair somehow smelled like cherry blossoms. 

Byakuya had told himself in the wake of what happened to Hisana that he was in control of his emotions, that he was not ruled by them. He had tried to do that before he met her as well but she seemed to have a strange control over him. She was like an addiction.  Fifty years of, usually, successfully being in control of his emotions meant he had forgotten was it was like to hold her. It seemed like all his emotions were running on high.  He wanted to reign them in but found it impossible. Not when he was holding his wife, not when she was there in his arms.

Hisana felt Byakuya's hands move so that instead of being crossed around her only one was wrapped around her waist.  The other skimmed up her side in a caress that was somehow gentle and yet firm, sending ripples across her senses.  Hisana's hand reached up, tangling her fingers in Byakuya's midnight hair. She felt him stiffen as though being touched was somehow unfamiliar.  Her heart ached for a moment until she pushed it aside.  She would familiarize him with it again. It would hurt them both but somehow not doing anything would hurt both of them a thousand times more. 

And so, on the rooftop of a cheap hotel, in the neon and starlight of Tokyo, a thousand miles from anything familiar, Hisana twisted in her husbands arms and sealed her lips over his for the first time in fifty years. 

Byakuya could barely think but for the first time he didn't even want too.  His arms wrapped around Hisana, pulling her tightly against him.  He may have been taller and she may have been the same height but she had always been shorter than him. They both knew he was too weak to lift her and he had no intention of getting yelled at by Hisana, not when it seemed as though all those barriers were coming down, at least for a little while. 

Neither was exactly sure how they made it to the deserted room that Byakuya was supposed to be 'recovering' in, only that before either knew it they were in the moonlit room. There were no silks or gentle words or feather light caresses. She was not someone delicate or gentle and neither was he.  He knew what she was when he married her but this was somehow different.  She was not sick or scared but full of life and that was the most intoxicating thing of all.

That and when he found the engagement ring on the chain around her ankle. 

"How--" he looked at her.

"I don't know," she replied honestly.  His fingers toyed with the clasp as he searched her face for answers, "yes," she whispered, her fingers threading through his hair, "Byakuya--" his fingers undid the clasp as she unwound her hand from his hair, "I'm still your wife," she gasped out.

"As I am still your husband," he murmured, his voice low as he pushed the band onto her finger and claimed her lips once more.

Morning found a still healing Byakuya asleep with his wife pulled tightly against his chest, her engagement ring on her finger where it belonged and the chain that had kept it hidden lying discarded on the carpet. 

All in all it was extremely fortunate for Ichigo. Because if either of them had been up early they would have caught their little sister asleep on his chest  and even if they were all on the same side possibly the only thing worse than an infuriated over-protective Byakuya was an infuriated over-protective Byakuya and his wife. 

AN PLEASE READ AN

Okay so as some of you know I've been having a lot of trouble with PMs, Review Alerts and DocX for the past two weeks. Well this morning was like xmas come early because they were ALL in my inbox.

All I have to say is WOW

Oh and my blackberry completely hates me right now.

The problem is that I'm a student and I need the inbox space because as the IT people have repeatedly told me the email service is not a storage service. Basically I can't write emails to professors. That's kinda  a problem and I have to clean out my inbox but I don't have time to go through everything.

What's the point of this message?

This is a desperate plea that if you have PM'd me in the past 2 weeks or so to PLEASE do it again! I'm very very sorry but I haven't gotten it. I promise I'll try to get back to you ASAP! 

Once again I apologize for the inconvenience that is . I hope you all have a great day and thank you so so much for the wonderful reviews!

AN PLEASE READ