Author's Note: Surprise! Inspiration actually hit for once, so I guess you're getting this update a month early :D Hope you enjoy!

I touched the fabric covering my face gingerly, wondering if it would be acceptable for me to unsheathe my zanpakuto just so I could have a reflective surface to look at myself in. An unexpected side effect of becoming an intern of the Kido Corps was that we all got these mandatory face masks to wear—vaguely reminiscent of the ones official Kido Corps members wore, only dark blue rather than white, and a lot simpler.

Letting out a mental sigh, I decided that getting to laugh at my reflection probably wasn't worth causing a possible panic for, and instead headed towards the refreshments table where I was faced with another dilemma.

"How the hell do they eat with these stupid things on their faces?" I muttered to myself, glaring in frustration at the biscuits in my hands. I hadn't eaten since yesterday's dinner and squeezing my stomach to stop the gurgling noises was only going to work for so long.

Is this really the sort of thing you should be concerned about right now? Tenshi no Tsubasa asked in exasperation. First at your Academy orientation, and now this…why can't you go socialize like everyone else instead of obsessing over food?

Oh, be quiet, I grumbled. You wouldn't understand, you don't have to eat.

Honestly, looking at the plethora of sushi, sashimi, steamed buns, cookies, crackers, and dango spread out on the table before me, I had no idea how the other interns were doing it. Still, out of the twenty or so students out there, some of them would become my future teammates, which meant that I should probably get to know them—

My stomach let out another pathetic whimper.

Ah, fuck it, I cursed internally. Taking a quick look around to make sure no one was looking in my direction, I grabbed a plate, quickly filled it up with food, and proceeded to duck under the table where I found myself on the receiving end of a pair of startled stare.

"Ah," I said awkwardly as I let the tablecloth fall down behind me, covering me and the other occupant from view. The other student—boyish-looking face, bright blue eyes, messy blond hair, cheeks currently bulging with food—swallowed with an obvious effort before giving me a weak smile.

"I won't tell if you don't?" He offered. I considered it for all of half a second before nodding emphatically.

"Deal," I said, yanking down my own mask and shoving an onigiri into my mouth. Glancing over at my companion's plate, I felt my eyes widen. "Is that ootoro?"

"Ah." He glanced down. "Yeah, it is. I kind of ate most of it myself already, but given that we're the only ones who have even approached the food table this entire time, there should still be some left—"

That was all the information I needed before I was pulling my mask back up and crawling out from under the table.

"Little overkill, don't you think?" My temporary comrade-in-arms commented when I returned, precariously balancing three plates on my arms.

"Figured I'd save us the trouble of making a return trip," I said sheepishly, sliding one of the plates over to him before pulling out a flask from inside my uniform.

"I like the way you think," he grinned, eyes sparkling. "And alcohol? Really?"

"They didn't have any drinks out there," I said defensively.

"Hey, do you hear me complaining?" He retorted. "Now hand it over."


An indeterminate amount of time later, I'd discovered three things about my companion. First, his name was Shirai Arashi. Second, he had a pathetically low alcohol tolerance, although he insisted otherwise. Third, he was a really talkative drunk.

"M'hole family's been senshors, y'know?" He slurred. "M'bro's a ninja, he works for…for tha' cat lady. M'dad did too b'fore he retired. But he saysh I would be a horrible ninja."

"I can't imagine why," I muttered. All it took was half a flask of sake and the dude was already spilling his life story to me. Coating one hand with healing reiatsu, I coaxed, "Now come on, let me fix you up a little. The ceremony's about to start soon, and you can't go out like this."

I managed to get within two inches of his skin before he suddenly giggled, batting my hand away. "Stop it, that tickles."

"Goddamn it, stop moving around—!" I cursed as he sat up abruptly, head-butting me in the process.

"Ouch," he whined, rubbing at his forehead before turning to stare at me with dilated eyes. "Ooh, someone important's coming," he informed me seriously. "Like…like a sun. Along with a buncha tiny moons."

"Like a sun?" I thought that over in my head for a moment before paling. "Like a captain?" The Kido Corps Commander was about to arrive and I was stuck under a table with a drunk moron who wouldn't let me sober him up?

"They're here!" Shirai announced cheerfully, and crawled out from under the table just as I was debating the merits of knocking him out, sobering him up then, and waking him up again. "C'mon, I wanna see the sun! Oh, he feels so warm."

Yanking my mask back up, I scrambled after him before the fool could get himself kicked out of his internship before he even started. Luckily—unluckily?—it appeared that his coordination skills had also been affected so I managed to catch up with him before he did any damage.

"Get back here," I growled, shifting his mask back in place and covering his mouth with my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a tanned man in an ornate blue cloak approaching the podium at the front of the room, and I took that as my cue to yank Shirai back under the table. "Do you want to get us both kicked out? No? Then for fuck's sake, sit still and let me knock some sense back into you!"

"Mrmph, quit it already," Shirai complained, squirming away from me as I tried, futilely, for the umpteenth time to press a glowing green hand to his head. Unfortunately, I couldn't just tackle him like I wanted to since that kind of commotion would definitely give us away, table covering us or not. "I toldja, I don't like the way it feels. It's too empty," he shuddered. I leaned back, giving up for the moment.

"Empty? I suppose healing kido does feel rather sterile, when compared to most forms of reiatsu. Still, for it to bother you so much…" My voice trailed off and I pursed my lips. "Just how sensitive to spiritual energy are you?"

"I told ya, my whole family are sensors," he announced proudly before I managed to shut him up once more.

"Shush! Keep your voice down, will you?" I hissed frantically. Sure, the tablecloth provided somesound protection but not that much. "Here, have some dango. Maybe some food will help."

Shoving a plate of leftover dango at him, I took a moment to consider my options. Of course, I could always go back to plan A—knock him out with a quick application of reiatsu to the head, help his body metabolize the alcohol in his bloodstream while he was unconscious, and wake him up afterwards. However, if he was half as sensitive to reiatsu as I thought he was, he'd sense that kind of attack coming from a mile away, which upped the chances of something going wrong considerably.

You could always just leave him, Tenshi no Tsubasa thought irritably. It's not like you're the one who's drunk.

Well, yes. It would be the easiest option, certainly. However...

You hold no responsibility towards him. You don't even know him! Tenshi no Tsubasa snapped at me. Just once, just once in your life I'd like to see you put yourself first.

It's my fault he's like this though, I thought guiltily. He wouldn't be drunk if it weren't for me.

When the only response I received was a chilly silence, I flinched, biting my lip. Tenshi?

I'm not mad at you, she replied finally, something tired in her voice. But I admit, little firebird, you do make my job very difficult at times. She paused for a second. But never mind that. What are you thinking?

Well, there is one thing I can do, I said hesitantly, pulling a syringe out of my pocket. It was meant as a last resort, as Unohana's concoctions tended to be on the stronger side, but—

"D'ya think that all the Kido Corps people end up with weird tan lines after a while?" Shirai wondered out loud, giggling to himself. "Oh man, that'd be hilarious. Like, imagine if I went up ta one of them and pulled down—"

That was as far as he got before I stabbed him in the arm with the syringe.


This was boring as hell.

"Miyagi Akane, Tamaki Daichi, and Toyama Megu will be assigned to Suzuki Chie," Tsukabishi Tessai, the Kido Corps commander, announced. God, how many teams had that been now? Six? Seven? Ten? I fought to suppress a yawn as the students in question walked up to meet their instructor, absently noticing that there were only five other unassigned students left.

Glancing towards where Shirai was barely staying awake next to me, I resisted the urge to sigh. Well, at least the ceremony was almost over.

The good news was that Shirai was sober again, so there was no risk of him doing something like running up to the nearest Kido Corps officer and pulling their mask down. The bad news…well, the bad news was that while I had succeeded in waking him back up after getting rid of the alcohol, the sedative drugs were still lingering in his system.

Useful drug, that, Tenshi no Tsubasa commented, sounding rather impressed. It knocked him out like a light.

Tell me about it, I agreed. Legend had it that Unohana had invented this particular sedative a couple hundred years ago, after an epic drunken brawl had broken out in the Eleventh and the healers at the time needed a drug that didn't react badly with alcohol. Wish she'd invented an antidote while she was at it, though. Ah well, something to keep in mind for the future.

For the future? I do hope that you aren't planning on making drugging your fellow teammates a habit, Tenshi no Tsubasa said dryly.

Of course not. I only have so many sedatives, I replied absently as Tsukabishi called the second-to-last team up. Only Shirai, a dark-haired boy, and I were left.

I took a moment to study my final teammate. Black, neatly brushed hair, rectangular glasses, slightly on the thin side, bored manner—good news is, he doesn't look like the type to enjoy drinking sake.

Appearances can be misleading, Tenshi no Tsubasa said a little sourly. If he's anything like you…well, there has to be some method to how they separate you into teams. I wouldn't be surprised if it was based on personality—I mean, you and Sensor-Boy over there both turned out to be the type of people to have picnics under tables at important social gatherings. Who knows, maybe Stick-Boy over there will turn out to be the type to set off fireworks inside a wooden building.

That was one time! I said indignantly. Besides, you know Kukaku fireproofs the inside of every room.

Hmm, Tenshi no Tsubasa said noncommittally. Pay attention now, it's almost your turn. Might want to wake up Sensor-Boy while you're at it.

Ah, right.

Glancing around to make sure that Tsukabishi and the other Kido Corps members weren't looking our way, I took the opportunity to kick Shirai awake. He jolted, blinking rapidly for several moments before his eyes met mine.

"Wake up," I hissed quietly as his face twisted into an odd expression, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to look grateful or scowl at me. "It's almost our turn."

As if on cue, Tsukabishi turned to look in our direction as the previous team exited. "Lastly, Shirai Arashi, Takeda Kaede, and Yukimura Hisana will be assigned to Niijima Jun." At his words, the remaining Kido Corps officer stepped up and I realized with a jolt that this was my first time seeing Grumpy-face in nearly four months.

Guess I'll have to start calling him Niijima-sensei now, I thought to myself as Tsukabishi turned to address us. That'll take some getting used to.

"Congratulations on your placement in the Kido Corps Internship Program," he began solemnly, Grum—Niijima standing slightly behind him. "And I welcome you into our ranks. Each of you were selected based on certain traits you possess, including but not limited to above-average reiatsu sensitivity, exceptional reiatsu control, and a heightened desire to learn. Over the course of the next six months, you will be taught to—" He paused, sniffing the air before turning to look at Shirai and me, a stern frown on his face. "Are the two of you intoxicated right now?"

Grumpy-face inhaled sharply and Takeda whipped his head around to look at us in disbelief. Next to me, Shirai's eyes had gone comically wide, a look of panic overtaking his features.

I closed my eyes—I'd forgotten that in the process of trying to wrestle my flask back from Shirai, I'd spilled a sizable amount of sake on us. Still, if we got kicked out for being drunk after I'd just spent the last half hour or so getting Shirai sober, I was going to punch somebody.

"No, sir," I said, slipping a polite smile on my face and hoping it didn't look as strained as it felt. It wasn't like I was lying—both Shirai and I were completely, utterly, 100% sober at the moment. A skeptical look crossed Tsukabishi's face.

"You reek of alcohol, girl," he said, voice more than a little disapproving. Determinedly ignoring Grumpy-face and the glare boring into the side of my head, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"It makes an effective mosquito repellent, sir," I said, keeping my back straight even as I winced internally. That was the best excuse I could come up with?

"A mosquito repellent," Tsukabishi repeated slowly. "And him?"

He pointed to Shirai, who smelled even stronger than I did. It didn't help that his pupils were still dilated from the drug I'd injected.

"There are a lot of mosquitoes after him, sir," I said through gritted teeth.

"And the clothes aren't enough of a deterrent?" Tsukabishi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They are very determined bugs, sir," I replied.

He stared at me for a long moment. I met his gaze evenly, expression carefully blank—we both knew I was lying about the alcohol, but like hell I was going to admit it. That was going against the first rule of bullshitting—when in doubt, deny, deny, deny.

"So they are," Tsukabishi said finally, expression unreadable. I held back a sigh of relief as his attention shifted, turning to address all three of us. "Your lessons begin this Wednesday. You are to report to training ground B at eight a.m. sharp. Dismissed."

Before leaving, I saw him shake his head and mutter something to himself. I wasn't sure, but I thought I caught the words 'remind me', 'Kisuke', and 'headache.'


"Yukimura-san? Yukimura-san, are you in here? There's—oh." Tsukuda's voice trailed off as she took in the no doubt pathetic sight I made, sprawled on the couch with my face buried in a pillow.

"What is it? I swear, if some other shinigami needs me to put their arm back on again, then forget it. It can just stay unattached for all I care," I grumbled half-heartedly.

"Oh, so you finally managed to reattach a limb?" Tsukuda asked brightly, ignoring my disgruntled tone. "That's great! I know it took forever before I was allowed to participate; it's one of the hardest procedures."

"You can say that again." Despite myself, I felt a proud smile tugging at my lips. "Reconnecting all those tiny blood vessels and nerves? It's a headache and a half. At least necrosis was only starting to set in, it could've been worse."

"Iemura-san didn't give you too hard of a time, then?" Tsukuda questioned. I snorted.

"Well, he let me do the bulk of the work instead of just shoving me off to the side and doing everything himself, so that's something. Still, you know Iemura-senpai—calling him a perfectionist is an understatement." Tsukuda gave me a flat look.

"I hardly think that's the sort of thing you should be saying, Yukimura-san," she said pointedly.

"Wow, someone's sassy today. You used to be so nice to me," I pouted, slipping on a faux-mournful expression I'd learned from Urahara. "Where did all this attitude come from?"

"Oh, a certain someone both you and I know. She's a bit of a bad influence, I'm afraid," Tsukuda replied sweetly. I raised my eyebrows.

"A bad influence, huh? I don't know, she sounds like a total badass to me," I grinned. Tsukuda coughed, covering her mouth with one hand.

"'Badass' might be going too far. Trouble, more like." She paused for a moment, expression softening. "Great friend, though. I wouldn't have her any other way." I blinked.

"Uh…just to clarify, we are talking about me, right?" Something like frustrated disbelief crossed Tsukuda's face before she managed to get her expression under control.

"I—yes," she took a calming breath and ran a hand through her hair. "Yes, I was talking about you."

"Oh. Good," I said, relieved, and smiled teasingly at her. "Glad to see I don't have to compete with anyone else for the title of 'most disruptive influence in Tsukuda Ayame's life.'" Tsukuda let out a sudden, harsh laugh.

"Oh, believe me," she said, an odd smile twisting her lips. "No one could ever compete with you." There was something…off about her tone of voice and I frowned, walking up to her.

"Is something wrong?" I asked softly. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" Her eyes flickered down.

"Nothing's wrong. It's just…I suppose I've had a lot on my mind lately." Tsukuda said stiffly.

"Really? Like what?" I asked cautiously. "Anything I can help with?" She let out a strange, choked sound, almost like an aborted laugh.

"No…no, there isn't anything you can do." She said, still not meeting my eyes. "I'm going on a date Friday and I suppose I'm a little nervous. I apologize if I don't seem myself."

"A date? That's fantastic!" I said encouragingly, keeping my tone gentle. It made sense that she'd be feeling apprehensive; hell, our first meeting revolved around how awful her experiences with men had been. "Hey, don't worry, it's perfectly normal to be nervous. Although, you know I have your back if anything goes wrong, right? Seriously, if they make you uncomfortable in any way, just tell me and I'll make sure to straighten things out with them."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, Yukimura-san," she smiled faintly.

"Well, I hope it goes well for you. You must be excited," I said warmly, even as I made a mental note to myself to keep a closer eye on her over the next week or so. You could never be too careful, after all.

"Mhm," Tsukuda smiled noncommittally. "I'm sure it'll be a nice distraction, if nothing else."

"Tell me about it. Sometimes I feel like with work and school piling up, my dates with Byakuya are the only thing keeping me sane," I said commiseratingly. After a brief moment of hesitation, I pulled her into a quick hug. "Have fun, okay? You deserve a break from work."

Stepping back, I added, "Oh, I almost forgot to ask! What did you want from me?"

"Want from you—?" Tsukuda asked dazedly before realization dawned in her eyes. "Ah, there's someone at the front desk, asking for a 'Yuki-chan'? Well, they said that their friend had long black hair and purple eyes, so I assumed they meant you."

"Ah." I took a deep breath, suddenly feeling rather nervous myself. "You'd be correct."

"I can tell her you're busy if you don't want to talk to her," Tsukuda volunteered hesitantly, apparently sensing my apprehension.

"No, I'll be fine. I should've done this a while ago, anyway," I muttered, sending her a quick smile. "Thanks for the offer, though. That was sweet of you, Tsukuda-san."

"Ayame." When I looked at her in surprise, she flushed, ducking her head. "I…I'd like it if you called me Ayame, Yukimura-san. I-If you don't mind, that is."

"Ayame it is then," I said, after a brief pause. Smile widening, I winked at her. "It's a pretty name—it'd be a shame not to use it. Still, I hope you know that from now on, you aren't allowed to call me Yukimura-san any more. It's Hisana, understood?"


I found Ran lounging on one of the couches in the waiting room, a bored expression on her face. At the sight of me, her eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face.

"Yuki-chan! There you are, I was beginning to think you'd never come," she greeted me.

"Ah." I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. "Sorry about that, I got a little held up. I hope you weren't waiting too long?"

"Don't worry about it. You know I'd wait forever for you, sweetheart," she purred. A choking noise came from somewhere behind me, and I resisted the urge to scowl.

"Nice to know. I'll be sure to take my time next time," I retorted, unimpressed. Ran grinned unrepentantly at me.

"You're learning," she said approvingly. "But anyway, down to business. Where's this Yukimura I've heard so much about?" The choking sound came back, only louder this time, and I looked behind me to see Yamanaka gaping in blatant confusion, eyes flickering between the two of us.

"Yukimura? But that's—"

"Yamanaka-san, thank you but I'll handle it from here," I interrupted, grabbing Ran by the wrist, dragging her into an empty room, and proceeding to slam the door shut. Turning around, I found Ran looking at me with raised eyebrows.

"What was that about?" She asked, even as I tried to figure out a way to gracefully tell her that she'd unknowingly spent the past couple of weeks gossiping about me to me. "Is there something about Yukimura that I should know?"

"Um," I said eloquently, wincing a little. How do you even answer a question like that? "Just that she's…probably not what you're expecting." Understatement of the century. "So, um, keep an open mind, okay?"

"I doubt she can be that bad, considering that she's managed to win over Kuchiki Byakuya, of all people," Ran laughed. "Look, if she doesn't want to meet me Yuki-chan, just say so. I won't be offended."

"It's not that," I said, taking a deep breath. "It's just…well, it's a little hard to introduce you when you already know her."

"I don't follow," Ran said, frowning, after a confused pause. "What do you mean, I know her? That's—" She stilled, and I could almost see her mind putting two and two together. "I'm looking at her right now, aren't I?" Ran finished, voice faint. I smiled wryly, slipping into a bow.

"Yukimura Hisana, at your service," I said. When she didn't respond, just continued staring at me with slightly-widened blue eyes, I blurted out, "Look, I know I should've told you sooner. At the very least, when you first brought up the subject of…well, me, I should've come clean about my identity—"

"Oh my god, I speculated about you having a threesome with Zaraki Kenpachi to your face." Ran whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. Her expression was one of dawning horror. "And…and that one time someone saw you leaving the Twelfth at four in the morning…holy shit, I told you about that one rumor regarding you and Kurotsuchi Mayuri."

"Yeah, that was very much not appreciated," I grimaced, shuddering. It had certainly proved that there were some things I'd be happier not knowing.

"No wonder you always tried to change the subject!" Ran exclaimed. "You must have felt so awkward, I can't even imagine…why didn't you tell me?" I shrugged, looking away.

"At first, it was because it was nice talking to someone so far removed from my personal life. I was more likely to receive an unbiased opinion that way, and you didn't seem to mind the anonymity either. After a while, though…" I took a deep breath. "Well, I suppose I wanted you to get to know me, not…not Yukimura Hisana, the Rukongai girl who somehow managed to get one of Soul Society's most eligible bachelors to fall in love with her." Angel of Inuzuri, leading researcher in one of the afterlife's rarest diseases, Kido Corps candidate, first person since Ichimaru Gin to attain shikai within six months, member of the First Class, Unohana Retsu's personal student, future lady of the Kuchiki Clan. All of a sudden, I felt rather exhausted.

"Oh, Yuki-chan," Ran sighed, stepping forward and wrapping me in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry. I probably don't meet your expectations," I said, voice muffled from where my face was pressed against her chest.

"No, you didn't. You surpassed them," she said gently. "And I want you to know that you being Yukimura Hisana changes nothing for me. You're still Yuki-chan to me, and if you need a break from the rest of your life, I'm here for you."

"Pathetic, isn't it? That I need an escape from my own name?" I asked, a hint of something bitter entering my voice. I wasn't sure what I was angrier about—the fact that I needed an escape, or the fact that I couldn't bring myself to turn to anyone else for relief.

I mean, at least the latter made sense, I tried to rationalize. Kaien had enough to deal with; I barely saw him a couple times a month now. I hardly saw Isane anymore, not to mention I already felt guilty enough for leaving her behind; it would be incredibly unfair of me to burden her with my problems. Rukia and Renji were too young, Eiji, Hiro, and Chiyo felt too young, and I was pretty sure talking to Unohana would be like disappointing every parental figure I'd ever had at once. I'd have to be blind not to notice the way Tsu—Ayame looked up to me, but admiration wasn't what I needed right now. Ikkaku and Yumichika would probably tell me to fight it off, talking to Iemura would make things unbearably awkward for us both, and Byakuya…

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that it is a perfectly acceptable act to confide in your mate, Tenshi no Tsubasa said pointedly.

Well yes, but what would it even accomplish? Maybe if he could do something about my problems—which I brought onto myself, I might add—but he can't. At best, he'll just worry needlessly and at worst, he'll feel guilty which will make me feel guilty and then we'll be in a worse place than where we started.

A burden shared is a burden halved, Tenshi no Tsubasa said sanctimoniously.

Don't you quote proverbs at me! I scowled. Besides, I have you to talk with, don't I?

And what does it say about you that the only one you trust wholeheartedly is a figment of your own soul? She asked quietly. I will always be there for you, but we both know that I cannot tell you anything you aren't already aware of. An outside perspective doesn't hurt.

I talk to Ran, don't I?

And it took the better part of four months for you to trust her with your name. Besides, how long will it take before you care enough about her that you cannot bear to let her see the shakier parts of you? Before you decide to protect her from your insecurities, your fears and doubts, your weaknesses?

I didn't have an answer for her and so I did the mature thing in this situation—I proceeded to hum the most obnoxious tune I could think of until she got the hint and backed off, ruffling her feathers in frustration.

"Hello? Earth to Yuki-chan?" Ran said, waving a hand in front of my face. I blinked, refocusing back on the conversation.

"Sorry, what?" I asked. She grinned, tapping me on the head.

"I was just about to say before you went all cloudy that I believe the word you're looking for is 'understandable,' not pathetic. Honestly, if I had to deal with the things that you do, I'd want a break too."

"That's kind of you to say," I murmured.

"It's the truth," she said seriously, before pausing for a moment. "Besides, Matsumoto Rangiku doesn't hang out with pathetic people."

It took every ounce of self-control I had not to choke.

Talk about things I should have figured out a long time ago. I mean, how many beautiful, strawberry-blonde Tenth Division shinigami can there be? I mused, continuing to stare at Ran in shock while doing my best not to appear like I was staring at her in shock. Still, what are the chances?

Knowing you? Fairly high, actually, Tenshi no Tsubasa said crossly.

I didn't ask for this, you know.

And yet somehow trouble always seems to happen to you anyway.

"—and hey wait, does this mean that Kuchiki Byakuya is the massive dork of a boyfriend you keep telling me about? The one you said spent an afternoon with you naming fish? Holy shit, the way I look at the world has changed," Rangiku said in awe. I just nodded numbly, simultaneously hit by the sudden realization that this probably meant the guy she was so depressed about was one Ichimaru Gin. This was just one clusterfuck after another, wasn't it?

"Ugh, well I have to go now, but if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me. Also, expect to be interrogated mercilessly on how good of a kisser Kuchiki is this Sunday. I'm gonna need details," Rangiku winked, leering at me. That broke me out of my funk.

"Ran-chan!" I squawked indignantly.

"And hey, if you two ever consider, ah, adding another person to your bed, keep your good friend Ran-chan in mind, yeah?" She asked merrily, watching the way my cheeks heated up with clear delight. I was struck with the unholy realization of just why Ichimaru Gin considered Matsumoto Rangiku a friend— obviously, the two of them were descended from Satan; they'd probably bonded over things like the humiliation of poor, innocent healers.

"Alright, that's it! Out, out!" I started pushing her towards the door. "I'm still technically on shift and you've been here way too long…the last thing my reputation needs is for a rumor of me taking a female lover to pop up—"

"Oh, don't worry about the rumors. I'll take care of them," Rangiku said lightly. "It's the least I could do, after all." I stopped pushing, staring at the back of her head suspiciously.

"Really?" I asked slowly. "You don't have to. I can handle a bit of gossip."

"But it still bothers you, right?" Rangiku smiled, shaking her head. "Can't say I blame you; if there was a rumor flying around that I was involved with that clown freak Kurotsuchi, I'd be pissed too." She turned to look at me, eyes hardening. "I look after my friends, Yuki-chan. Believe me, by the end of this month, the rumors won't be a problem anymore."

I swallowed, looking down. Yeah, I could see why Gin was so desperate to protect this girl. And that was the problem, wasn't it? I'd seen firsthand just how hurt Rangiku was by his attempts to distance himself from her. And yet if he let her in, there was no way she'd let him do things on his own.

"You have awful taste in men," I murmured, almost inaudibly. Freaking Gin. She just had to love the one dumbass who'd devoted his life to a suicidal plan to kill the most powerful shinigami in existence. The only way things could be worse would be if she'd pulled a Momo and fell in love with Aizen instead.

"What was that?" She asked, brow furrowing.

"Nothing." I shook my head. "Just…your friends are lucky to have you."


"Yukimura? Yukimura, wake up!" I groaned, opening my eyes blearily to see Iemura frowning down at me.

"Eh? Is my lunch hour over already?" I asked, blinking.

"You have another ten minutes before your shift begins," he informed me, before hesitating. "Are you alright? This is the third time I've caught you sleeping here during your lunchtime."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I said, waving him off as I reached into my bag to pull out a ration bar. Cramming half of it into my mouth, I added, "I jus' 'ad a 'ead'ake."

"Speak like a civilized human being, please," Iemura said irritably. With a Herculean effort, I managed to swallow the dry-as-dust bar in my mouth.

"I said, it's nothing to worry about. I just have this headache that comes and goes," I repeated. A familiar reiatsu presence prickling at the edge of my awareness was all the warning I received before I found myself face to face with one of my least favorite people in the world. "Aaaaaand it's back."

"Oh, it's you," Iemura said with all the enthusiasm that I felt—which is to say, none. "What can I do for you today, Ichimaru-san?" Gin grinned, slow and sly, and I found myself resisting the urge to throw the rest of my ration bar at him and his god-awful life decisions.

"Maintenance request from the Fifth. Hope you're good at carpentry, Hisana-chan," Gin said cheerfully, ignoring Iemura completely.

"Is it your face I'm nailing to the ground?" I wondered. "No? Then forget it—I still have six minutes of my lunch break left and I plan on making the most of it."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that. I'll give ya this," Gin sing-songed, pulling a persimmon from his sleeve and waving it in front of me temptingly. "Promise it tastes better than that crap you're currently eating."

"For your information, that 'crap' is the nutritional equivalent of four servings of vegetables," I defended, even as I stared longingly at the fruit in front of me.

"Doesn't change the fact that it's crap," Gin pointed out. When I remained stubbornly silent, he added cajolingly, "I have a whole bag o' them at the Fifth. You can have all the persimmons ya want there." I glanced between the remainder of the ration bar still in my hand and the sweet-looking fruit in front of me, took a moment to mentally weigh my dignity against free food, and proceeded to snatch the persimmon out of his hand.

"Iemura-senpai, put me down for that mission," I said, biting into the fruit sullenly, glaring at a very smug-looking Gin. "And you, don't say a word. You know I can't get persimmons like this anywhere else."

"I am rather talented at growing them," Gin said modestly. "Now come on—you have a bookshelf ta fix, and I have an afternoon of entertainment set out for me."


"So when are ya gonna introduce me ta your mini-me?" Gin asked as I chewed mutinously on a mouthful of persimmon.

"Never, if I can help it," I muttered, sneaking glances at him out of the corner of my eye. Try as I might, I still couldn't see what Ran saw in him…was it the creepy smile? The infuriating voice? The tendency to mindfuck everyone he talked to? Okay, I'd admit that the persimmons he grew were…unfairly addicting, but she couldn't like him just for that, right? "Why do you want to meet her anyway? I was under the impression that you didn't like kids."

"Untrue," Gin pouted. "It's just that kids don't really like me."

"I can't imagine why," I said dryly.

"Well, ya can't deny me my curiosity, Hisana-chan. I admit, I'm looking forward ta seeing—" His steps faltered for a fraction of a second. "—just how similar little Rukia-chan is to you." He glanced down at me. "Are ya still hungry? We could get somethin' more substantial for you ta eat first."

"What—" I began before cutting myself off, the reason for Gin's odd behavior becoming apparent as I sensed a familiar reiatsu signature approaching our direction. "Sure. You're paying, though."

Helping him now, little firebird? My, how times have changed, Tenshi no Tsubasa said sardonically.

Oh, shut up. You know why I'm doing this, I retorted, mood taking a nosedive. And I may not like the guy, but I understand his reasons.

I still wasn't sure what to do about the Gin-Rangiku-Aizen situation. I mean, Gin could hardly back out now—somehow, I doubted he could just walk up to Aizen and hand in his resignation letter and his two weeks' notice. Therefore, Rangiku getting involved with Gin would probably lead to Rangiku getting involved with Aizen, and in no scenario did I see that ending well. Hell, she might even figure out what Gin was doing, in which case there was a chance she'd defect right alongside her childhood friend, and that was one outcome I wanted to avoid at all costs. If Aizen didn't end up killing her, the Gotei 13 would.

As much as I hated to admit it, Gin distancing himself from Rangiku was probably the best course of action here. It would…hurt her, undoubtedly, but at the same time, doing anything else would make it harder for her to move on if he died, and wouldn't that be worse?

Interesting that you should say that, Tenshi no Tsubasa said coolly. For all that you claim to despise the man, you still sympathize with his actions. I suppose I can see why. After all, you'd do the same thing in his shoes, wouldn't you?

I didn't reply. We both knew the answer to that question.

Shaking my head to clear it, I started marching in the opposite direction of Rangiku's approaching presence. "I actually know a really good ramen place that's close by. Hurry up, I'm starving."

"I can see that," Gin said, voice slightly puzzled. I could tell that he was confused by my sudden willingness to go along with things, but thankfully he didn't question it. I didn't stop until we were a good five blocks away, when I caught sight of a familiar face.

"Hey, is that Tsukuda?" I blinked, taking in the pink-flowered kimono she was wearing and the artful way her hair was arranged. "Ah, she must be going on her date."

"Who?" Gin asked in incomprehension, before he caught sight of her. "Oh, Squeaky! I remember her. The little mouse that's always followin' ya around, right?"

"For the last time, stop calling her that," I said, annoyed. "What is it with you and nicknames, anyway? You've never given me one."

"You've never needed one," Gin shrugged.

"I'm not even going to try to understand what you meant by that," I muttered, before waving to get Tsukuda's attention.

"Tsu—I mean, Ayame-chan! Over here!"

"Ayame-chan?" Gin asked in amusement. "That's new."

"It's a recent development. And she was the one who requested that I call her by her first name, so don't even start," I said sharply, before jogging over to where Tsukuda was standing.

"Y-Yukimura-san," she said, startled. A blush started forming on her cheeks. "I-I wasn't expecting to see you."

"What did I say about you calling me that? It's Hisana, remember? There's no need to be so formal," I scolded.

"Hisana-san, then," she said softly, voice hesitant. I smiled reassuringly at her.

"That's it. Don't worry, I won't take up too much of your time. Just thought I'd say hi, tell you how pretty you look," I grinned. "You know, I don't think I've actually seen you outside your uniform before? That kimono looks beautiful on you."

"You think so?" She asked shyly. I nodded earnestly.

"Oh, definitely. Whoever your date is, they're a lucky soul. There's just one thing…" I reached out and smoothed out a crease in her kimono. "Okay, now you're perfect."

Her blush deepened, a bashful smile now playing around the corners of her lips. "You…you look really nice t—"

"As amusin' as this is ta watch, we do need ta be somewhere," Gin cut in, resting a hand on my shoulder. I couldn't quite repress a shudder and I scowled, glaring at nothing in particular. Stupid Gin and his stupidly cold hands—if I didn't know better, I could've sworn he was some reptilian, cold-blooded were-lizard or something. He turned to look at Tsukuda and his smile widened. "Squeaky, best of luck on your date. Try not ta set any unreasonable expectations, 'kay? Fantasy can only take ya so far."

I waited until we were out of earshot before murmuring, "That was…unexpectedly nice of you."

"I told ya, I don't like it when my targets are too easy. Besides, you were doin' a fine enough job on your own. Playin' with poor lil' Squeaky's feelings like that…I didn't think you had it in ya."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, frowning. I tried to think back, but I couldn't think of a single instance where I'd been mean to her. If anything, I thought I'd been going out of my way to be nice.

Gin paused, staring at me. "You really don't know, do ya. The effect you can have on people." His voice was flat.

I think what he means is that you have a tendency to go overboard, sometimes. I know you want her to be comfortable around you, but maybe it's best to back off a little right now, Tenshi no Tsubasa explained quietly, after a pause.

"I just…I don't know what I did wrong! I…I know that I'm not the best with boundaries, and I can push at them sometimes, but she didn't seem to mind," I replied out loud, bewildered. That was the thing that confused me—I was usually pretty good at telling when someone wanted me to stop, and Tsukuda had displayed absolutely none of those signs. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Oh, you didn't just push at her boundaries, you demolished them. Always so protective, so quick to rush to her defense, and with the compliments and the constant touching…the poor thing stood no chance," Gin said with relish, voice bordering on cruel. I flinched, unable to stop myself, and looked down at my feet.

"You can't mean…" My voice trailed off. "She knows I don't think of her that way."

"And she knows that you're head over heels for Kuchiki, but when has love ever been logical?" Gin asked, the hint of bitterness in his voice so faint I almost missed it.

"So what can I do? Start avoiding her?" I snapped, glaring at him. Like you? How much of you avoiding Rangiku, getting involved with Aizen in the first place, is due to wanting to protect her, and how much of it is due to you not knowing how to deal with the fact that she cares for you?

"Does it matter? Either way, you'll end up hurting her," Gin shrugged, a hint of something tired flashing across his features. "That's just how life works."


Interlude

"So you're Hisana-chan's lil' sister," a soft, lilting voice said from behind her. Rukia whirled around to see a silver-haired teenager roughly the same age as Hisana studying her closely, head tilted to the side. He nodded towards the wooden training sword in Rukia's hands. "Trainin', huh? Studious of ya."

"Who are you?" Rukia asked warily. "You're not a student here."

"I'm not?" He exclaimed, looking down at his shihakusho in mock surprise. "Gee, what gave me away?" Rukia scowled, feeling a twinge of annoyance.

"You didn't answer my question," she spat out. "Who the hell are you and what do you want from me?"

"My, my, so touchy. Is that any way ta speak ta a shinigami officer? Keep talkin' like that around the wrong people and you'll be makin' some powerful enemies real quick." The stranger's smile widened as Rukia took an involuntary step back. "Rukongai girl like you should know better. I'd watch that tongue of yours if I were you—ya might just end up losin' it otherwise."

"Y-You wouldn't…" Rukia stammered, heart pounding, as her eyes flickered to the side—and it was just her luck that nobody was around, wasn't it? She clenched her fists together, trying not to let her unease show on her face. "You'll…you'll get in trouble."

The teen gasped theatrically in horror. "Oh no, not that. Anythin' but that."

Feeling a cold sweat break out on her face, Rukia blurted out, "Y-You said that you knew Hisana. She'd—"

"Yes, I suppose she would be rather irritated with me," he mused to himself, and she wasn't able to repress her shudder this time. His voice…it was like the sensation of spiders skittling across her spine. "Then again, who says she has ta know I was involved? Not like you'd be able ta tattletale on me. You know, with the lack of tongue and all," the teen continued conversationally. At the sight of Rukia's pale face, he grinned suddenly, smile sharp enough to cut.

"Kidding! Jeez, kids these days…no sense of humor," he shook his head, eyes curving into happy crescents. "Lighten up, Rukia-chan!"

"Oh," Rukia said weakly, forcing out a weak laugh. "That's—"

"Do ya know how messy it is ta cut someone's tongue out? Blood everywhere, it'd take forever ta get it all out of my clothes. Nah, when it comes ta silencing someone, there are much more effective ways of goin' about it," he interrupted, expression switching from cheerful to dead serious in the span of a second.

"I—" Rukia choked out, eyes wide, before the teen's lips quirked up.

"That was a joke, Rukia-chan," he said gently, causing Rukia to flinch. For some reason, his soft tone frightened her more than the cruelly amused one from before. "Still, all jokin' aside, I would advise ya ta watch your manners. Never know who ya might piss off. Besides, what would your sister say if she heard ya bein' so rude?" When Rukia didn't say anything, he added, "Mouthin' off like that, and ta a seated officer no less—" She couldn't help but flinch again. "—at a time when she's under a lot of pressure ta look good. Doesn't she have enough ta deal with, without havin' ta worry about you gettin' into trouble?" Rukia swallowed, a sick sensation settling in her gut at the thought of becoming yet another source of stress in Hisana's life.

"You're…you're right. I'm sorry, I should have been more respectful," she said finally, squeezing her eyes shut. She bowed in apology. "I hope you'll forgive me, and…and please don't tell Hisana about this."

The teenager stilled, scrutinizing her closely as she did her best to appear contrite. After another searching look, he leaned back, seeming almost…disappointed?

"Well now, that's more like it," he said, tone unreadable. "Huh. Now there's an expression I never expected ta see on that face." His gaze drifted up, focusing on something behind Rukia. "Ah, it seems like our meeting is about ta be cut short."

"Rukia!" That was all the warning Rukia received before she suddenly found herself being pushed back. Glancing up in alarm, her eyes widened at the sight of Hisana stomping up to the silver-haired stranger (where had she even come from?), a look of absolute fury on her face. "You!"

"Nice ta see you too, Hisana-chan," the teenager said, giving her a cheerful little wave.

"What are you doing here?" She hissed, practically vibrating with rage as she prodded him forcefully in the chest with an index finger.

"Well, since you were hardly ever gonna introduce us, I decided ta take things into my own hands," he explained.

"I told you to stay away from her!"

"Now you're just bein' unfair," he pouted. "We were just talking. What, don't you trust her ta handle a conversation with a shinigami by herself?"

"That's not the point!" She snarled, causing Rukia's stomach to drop. "You—"

"I wouldn't hurt her, ya know," he interrupted, cutting her off. He looked towards where Rukia was watching the proceedings with alarm and winked at her, tongue darting out of his mouth in a silent warning for her to keep her mouth shut. "I mean, Rukia-chan and I get along just fine, don't we? Such a sweet, polite, little girl," he cooed. Rukia swallowed heavily as she felt his reiatsu settle in the air around them—the weight of his attention a steadily squeezing pressure, like a giant snake coiling around her throat. "Far nicer than you are."

"It's true, nee-chan. We were just having a conversation," Rukia said quietly.

"Is that so?" Hisana asked, voice slightly dubious. She shifted, cutting Rukia off from the stranger's line of sight, and Rukia couldn't help but slump in relief.

"Uh-huh," Rukia said honestly. "He didn't do anything to me."

Hisana searched her features carefully for a moment before relaxing, apparently satisfied with what she'd found.

"See? Now if you won't believe me, will ya believe your own sister at least?" The teen asked exasperatedly. Hisana narrowed her eyes at him, pressing her finger into his chest even harder.

"Hurt her and believe me Ichimaru, I'll repay the favor a thousand times over," she said quietly. "She's mine, understood? Do what you like with me, but don't you dare touch her."

"Oh, you've made yourself perfectly clear," the teen—Ichimaru—replied, glancing down at where her finger had burned a hole through his shirt. Reaching up, he grabbed her hand before she could pull away, holding it in an iron-tight grip. "In return, I'll ask that ya watch that temper of yours. I like ya, Hisana-chan, but don't forget your place. I won't always be this forgivin'."

"Are you threatening me now, Ichimaru-san?" Hisana asked lightly, raising an eyebrow. Rukia blinked, more than a little taken aback by the change in her tone. In fact, she almost seemed a little amused, which made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Somewhere between threatening Ichimaru and being threatened herself, her previous urgency had all but vanished and for the life of her, Rukia couldn't figure out what had caused the change. There was no way Hisana couldn't see that there was something majorly wrong with this guy, so why—?

"I could be," Ichimaru purred, voice dropping. Rukia's eyes widened as he stepped closer to her sister and pressed himself against her back, lazily running a finger across Hisana's throat. "I could be so very dangerous, you know. Just one slice—"

"Go ahead. If the alternative is enduring your company, it would be a mercy," Hisana snorted. Ichimaru paused, smile softening into something more genuine.

"Ah, Hisana-chan. Never change," he said, his voice almost fond.

"I don't plan on it. And for the last time, get your hands off of me," Hisana grumbled, before perking up. "Wait, that reminds me." She reached into her bag and pulled out what was quite possibly the most hideous pair of mittens Rukia had ever seen. And given that she'd seen Kaori's knitting, that was saying something.

"What—" Ichimaru began bemusedly, as she shoved the mittens—which were an eye-searing shade of orange with a green bullseye pattern on the back—into his hands.

"Your hands are always freezing and since you won't stop touching me, I came up with a win-win solution for the both of us," Hisana announced proudly.

"These are the ugliest mittens I've ever seen. They're not even practical—how the hell do ya expect me ta wield a sword in these?" Ichimaru asked in disbelief. At that, Hisana flushed a bright red.

"They were originally supposed to be gloves," she muttered sullenly under her breath, before folding her arms over her chest and smirking at him. "But that doesn't matter, the point is that you're going to wear them anyway or else I'm telling Aizen-fukutaicho that you refused a handmade gift that I spent hours and hours making. So there."

Ichimaru stared at her. "This is petty, even for you Hisana-chan."

"I never claimed to be otherwise," she grinned. "They'll be perfect for the upcoming winter, don't you think? Consider it a belated birthday present."

Grabbing Rukia by the hand, she proceeded to lead her away from Ichimaru and towards the Academy buildings. "No need to thank me, Ichimaru-san! The pleasure of giving you that gift is all I need, believe me."

"Do you really think it's a good idea to piss him off like that?" Rukia asked shakily, once she was sure they were out of earshot.

"Piss him off? Nah, at most it'll annoy him a little," Hisana answered absently, before glancing at her in concern. "Are you alright? You said you were okay before, but I know that even the shortest conversations with him can be…trying."

"I'm fine," Rukia said shortly. "Who is he, anyway?"

"Ichimaru Gin, third seat of the Fifth Division." Hisana hesitated for a moment before continuing, expression serious. "I don't want you around him, okay? He's…he's not someone you want the attention of." Rukia nodded, she could do that—if she never talked to the guy again, it would be too soon.

"You and he seemed…close," she said awkwardly. Hisana laughed, a little harshly.

"Not by choice, I assure you. My relationship with him is…well, it's complicated." She was quiet for a minute. "The thing with Ichimaru is, once he starts playing with you, the easiest—and probably safest—way to get him to stopis to just wait for him to get bored."

"And is he? Growing bored?" Rukia asked, already knowing the answer to that question. Hisana smiled tiredly.

"He's not so bad, once you get used to him," she said instead, glancing down at Rukia. "Really."

"How are you not afraid of him?" Rukia demanded. "He's…" She thought back to his voice, his ever-present smile, the way his eyes were narrowed into slits, and her words dried up in her throat.

"Yes," Hisana agreed, not unkindly. "But…well you'll understand, soon enough. After the first time you witness a spar between two higher-seated officers, the first time you meet a captain, the first time their control slips around you and you feel like you can't breathe…well, suffice to say that if you can get used to all of that, you can get used to a lot of things, you know? Including Ichimaru and his weirdness."

"So, what, you just got used to it, all that stuff you just said? Stopped being afraid?" Rukia asked in disbelief. "Just like that?" She hadn't met any captains yet, but if their reiatsu felt anything like Ichimaru's—crushing, overwhelming, suffocating—she doubted it was the kind of thing you could just get used to.

"I suppose it's a matter of choosing what and what not to focus on. If I spent my days obsessing over the many ways the people here could kill me, I'd drive myself insane. So I don't," Hisana shrugged and Rukia came to the abrupt realization that yes,it really was just that easy for her. Because…well honestly, nothing had changed much for her in that regard, had it? Even discounting the fact that Hisana had started robbing people twice her size when she was only ten years old, she'd been negotiating with drug lords and yakuza bosses and other hardened criminals for the past six decades. While shinigami were several magnitudes more powerful than the average drug lord, the principle remained the same—and the fact was, Hisana had been holding her ownagainst people who could easily kill her (talking back to them, saying no to them, befriending them) for nearly her entire lifetime.

"Ichimaru is a special case, because he doesn't hide how dangerous he is. He flaunts it, actually. But for most people, it'll be easier to adjust to being around them. Despite how much they may seem like gods, they aren't—even captains have quirks, like playing music at three a.m., or having a weakness for barbeque, or collecting bonsai trees. I'm not saying forget how powerful they are, just remember that they're not as different from you as they may seem," Hisana explained. "And hey, you already have some experience! You adjusted to Byakuya fairly quickly, didn't you?"

"Because you were comfortable around him and so I knew he wouldn't hurt me," Rukia scowled, struggling to keep the frustration out of her tone. Some shinigami-in-training she was. What kind of shinigami could only feel safe when their big sibling was around to protect them?

"And I won't let anyone hurt you here," Hisana promised. "Not Ichimaru, not any of the captains, not anyone." Rukia didn't say anything for a long moment and a hint of worry flashed over Hisana's face. "Imouto?"

"I believe you," Rukia said, biting her lip, and she did. There'd never been a single instance in her life where she hadn't felt like she could rely on Hisana, and she was sure that with her here, she'd be fine—maybe after a while, she'd even stop being so scared of Ichimaru.

It was the fact that she wasn't quite sure she could survive without relying on Hisana that was the problem.

Author's Note: I'd like to take a moment to again thank all of you for your support for this story! Honestly, knowing that there are people out there who enjoy and look forward to my writing is the best birthday gift you could give me So if there was a particular bit you liked (about this chapter, or in general), please tell me in a review! I promise I read each and every one of them. Also, if you have any questions, feel free to drop by my tumblr (cooliogirl101) and ask me there, or drop me a PM.