AN: I listened to Within Me-Lacuna Coil, Until Tomorrow- Paramore and Until the day I die -Story of the Year. If you can, have the songs set on low while reading this chapter. Total. Unconventional crack lies ahead as well as severe AU territory.
Title: The wrong way home
Rating: M (for torture)
Requested Pairing: TeslaxRukia
Summary: No one had ever shown him an ounce of kindness. In the harsh reality of Las Noches, one is driven by cruelty, the other by mercy. Captivity breaches the fine line of hate between them. In the end there is no home for either.
...
"Chad..." she knelt at the human's side, the wound to his torso was deep. Blood stained the sand crimson. He was near death; she was glad she had decided to go back rather than continue on down the path she had chosen out of the five. "But whom or what..." Rukia murmured to herself, laying her hands over the jagged gash, "...did he fight?"
The grains of sand shifted, settled beneath the step of someone behind her.
Rukia slowly turned, her eyes widening.
"Do you mean...me?" Nnoitora cackled before bringing his double-bladed weapon across her body.
...
"You disgust me!" The tiny, insignificant creature snarled.
"Do I, pet?" Nnoitora sneered, his long oval face derisive, mocking. The Soul Reaper ground her teeth, flailing about, the white bandages about her torso were steadily turning a dull crimson color.
"Nnoitora, I really must protest." The Octava fretted, staring at his superior Espada from over the hospital bed with a hopeless, pleading expression. Tesla chose this moment to approach, his tone condescending, a reminder for the elder Espada to remember his place.
"Lord Aizen has given charge of Kuchiki Rukia to my master."
"Yes, but-!"
The woman began coughing, spitting up blood.
"-Whether or not Kuchiki Rukia has recovered from the wounds dealt by my Master is of no consequence." Tesla spared the pitiful creature a dismissive glance. Szayel stared from Espada to Fraccion, his brilliant mind unable to come up with an exact argument why taking such a fragile specimen so wounded, would be detrimental to anything, except for her life.
He shrugged, "take her then. Out of my hands..." the scientist started humming an off key tune, "now really get out of my sight if you please. You've already held me up long enough...I must be getting back to that intriguing specimen of a Quincy..."
Dismissal evident, Tesla turned his gaze around to Nnoitora's taller frame, "shall we be going, Mas-"
"Here! Carry it! This pet isn't even worth my time!" Nnoitora spat, his onyx eye slitting as the woman gave one last sputtering cough, blood flecking her front and dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Tesla barely caught her sagging form, distaste in his thoughts as he beheld her pale face, her expression an agony of unconscious torment. He wondered why their Lord had given the task to his Master when Kuchiki Rukia seemed no more than an insignificant insect.
Nnoitora had started out already, his long strides carrying him far from Szayel's maze-like palace. Tesla struggled to keep up, dragging the woman by the ankles, undesirous of any more contact than that with his gloved hands and her body. Until that is, Nnoitora turned around and snapped, "don't wanna break her before Aizen's done something to her.." a sadistic gleam glowed in the Quinta's expression. "Maybe torture 'er for information.." A fiendish look came onto Nnoitora's face, forgotten, Tesla stared after his master with admiration.
"Yes, Master Nnoitora." He murmured, obeying though his body cringed as the Soul Reaper's dead weight settled in his arms. Szayel had left her in the torn white under-robe, the bandages beneath had long been soaked through. Tesla ignored the dampness of the cloth, carrying the woman bridal-style as he followed Nnoitora at a distance.
Just before entering the palace reserved for the Quinta Espada, Nnoitora called over his shoulder, "take care of the pet, will ya."
"Of course, Master Nnoitora." Tesla responded, his face betraying none of the anger he felt at the menial task bestowed upon him. Distantly a door closed further in the palace. Alone in the long high-ceilinged corridor, his single eye turned down to the woman he held in his arms.
"The moment you become a nuisance to my Master, is when I will end you, Soul Reaper." he promised, knowing how easy it would be to slip a hand around her slender throat and snap it cleanly apart. How much he would enjoy it.
...
The room was circular, large. Farthest from his Master's private chambers, Tesla entered the echoing room, his gaze drawn at first to the shaft of light cutting across the gloom from the single window then withdrawing with a quiet sigh to the wire cage built from the ceiling down, an immense thing of sekki-seki interlaid wires and a specially treated epoxy designed by Szayel, to break down the woman's spiritual powers.
"Awake now?" he queried, stepping closer. The woman's head slowly turned at the sound of his boots clicking precisely across the floor. Her focus was bleary at first then sharpened as she took in his face.
"You-!" she flew up instantly, scrabbling back like a trapped animal. Which she was, he thought, momentarily enjoying the terror in her eyes. It quickly changed to anger, something he hadn't expected. Within seconds the woman had launched herself at the wire wall, shrieking at him.
"How dare you-"
He cut her off, finding her voice irritating. "Lord Aizen has deigned to spare your life, worthless worm. I believe that action alone requires you to grovel at his feet in appreciation."
"Teme." She spat with as much venom as she possibly could. Her violet eyes smoldered with impotent hate the longer she gazed at him. Tesla sensed the task wasn't going to be as easy as thought.
"Attempt escape and I will dispatch you myself." He murmured, keeping his eye fixated on her face. The woman paled, a good sign, he assumed at first. Until her saliva splotched his cheek. Little expression clouded his face as he wiped it off, the woman's defiance was starting to grate on him. He hadn't expected this much spirit to remain, the Cuatro had broken in the Inoue woman easy enough, so why did this one-
"Where are my friends?"
She had withdrawn into a corner, the farthest, a small bundle of dirty white and fierce violet eyes shining in the shadows. He heard the softer, quieter note in her tone. He thought it suited her better than such uncouth yelling.
"It is...not my place to say." He stood, observing after another moment. "Hueco Mundo is your prison now. There are no friends, no comrades here. Only death and loneliness."
She snorted yet said nothing.
"Accept it." Tesla stalked away, meaning to bring in the tray waiting in the small hallway outside the cell. Her quiet voice stopped him.
"I won't."
Her defiance struck a chord deep within the Arrancar.
Anger confused the sensation.
He let the door close without another word, in the hallway the servant looked to him for instruction. Tesla decided the woman would starve that night for her impudence.
"Take it back."
...
She had gone longer without food.
Two days.
The shallow dish of water sat in the shadows cast by the fine webbing of the wires. Rukia lied on her side, staring out at the rest of the room. From there, she could glimpse a sliver of light from the illusive moon but never grasp it in her hand. Like freedom, the moon's light taunted her by being just out of reach.
Her mind in its semi-relaxed state dwelled on many things. None the least, wondering about her friends. Had they made it? Was anyone even still alive? It frustrated her to no end, to be in the dark. From inside the cage, she couldn't sense a thing beyond the small confines.
"...no friends, no comrades here. Only death and loneliness."
The voice of the Arrancar floated through her mind.
Rukia pushed herself up, wincing sharply from the abrupt motion. Because of the sealant on her powers, her wounds weren't healing as fast as they should've been. Growling to herself under her breath, she swiped in anger at the bowl, sloshing its contents across the floor of the room.
"I see you wish for water as well to be taken from you."
Her body jerked around, recognizing the voice and the face of the blond-haired Arrancar. His morose expression loomed from the darkness, the spot of black the eye-patch over one eye. His gaze was disconcertingly sharp as it wandered around the large room.
"Your wounds bother you as well."
Her eyes followed his white-clad form as he slowly walked across; she curled one arm protectively around her middle.
"Yeah? What's it to you, monster?" Rukia glared fiercely as though their positions were reversed, she the one with power and he the helpless captive.
"Nothing." Then as he stood beside the door of the cage, gazing down, seemingly lost in thought, his expression altered suddenly. Hardening subtly. "Know this, Kuchiki Rukia, your body whether living or decimated, is of no concern to my Lord Aizen. It is by his whim alone that you live now."
"What about-" here was her chance. Or so she thought.
"I've explained this prior. Is your intelligence so limited as to not understand a simple sentence?"
She wanted to run him through with her beautiful sword for daring to insult her and the Kuchiki name. Lacking however her Sode no Shirayuki, Rukia sufficed an icy glare, "you bastard."
"I am your jailor in this world. Accept it, Kuchiki Rukia." he intoned, unaffected.
A smirk she barely felt, curved her lips. "Oh? And what is your name? You know mine but I do not know yours."
A flicker of surprise passed over his face. After another beat, it was gone, smoothed over into the same unreadable lines. He pressed an arm to his breast, slightly inclining his head to her, "forgive my negligence."
She stared at him openly now. Was he making fun of her?
"I am called Tesla, and I am the sole Fraccion of the Quinta Espada, Nnoitora Gilga."
...
Two days.
His Master did not know of the carts sent back.
She was being punished.
Tesla laid his hand upon the panel, it slid away at his touch. Inside a deeper darkness emanated forth, only a sliver of moonlight pierced it. He stepped inside, his eye immediately searching out the white-clad form lying in the middle of the cage.
Briefly he wondered if she had perished.
But, he rescinded the thought when in a sudden violent motion, the white lump shot up, her torso ramrod straight only to crumple in on itself in spasms of pain. For moments he watched the woman's silent agony then as the pain seemed to fade, she struck out in a sweeping motion. A sharp clatter pierced the silence as the bowl of water spilled its contents, the bowl itself shattering against the walls of the cage.
"I see you wish for water as well to be taken from you." Tesla chose this moment to make himself known. The woman twisted around, shock bleeding her face pale, pallid- he thought. Like the corpse of someone long dead.
The woman's glower was distorted by unease. Tesla knew she wondered how long he had stood there in the darkness. He could sense her eyes on him, as he approached, taking care to avoid the broken fragments of crockery.
"Your wounds bother you as well." Momentarily he contemplated sending for a medic; the woman would be no use to their Lord if she were to pass from her injuries. Protective like an animal, she cradled an arm against her stomach, dark circles like bruises standing out against her milk-white skin.
"Yeah? What's it to you, monster?" her defiance flared.
Tesla hadn't expected it in her wretched state. The woman's insolence astounded him yet again. "Nothing." Then, because some twisted thing inside wished to break her proud spirit, make her beg and grovel for her life; he went on colder. "Know this, Kuchiki Rukia, your body whether living or decimated, is of no concern to my Lord Aizen. It is by his whim alone that you live now."
She wasn't listening anymore. "What about-"
Her friends. The woman's persistence was aggravating. As was her utter lack of concern for her life, such selflessness confused the Arrancar. "I've explained this prior. Is your intelligence so limited as to not understand a simple sentence?" Stupidity seemed the only explanation left. The woman's face became a hardened mask, sheer anger radiating from it. "You bastard.." she hissed.
He had borne the brunt of another's anger before; hers could not harm him. It was her despair he longed to see, to revel in the knowledge he had caused it. Locking eyes with the woman yet again, he spoke calmly. "I am your jailor in this world. Accept it, Kuchiki Rukia."
Yes...Master Nnoitora had given the task to him alone.
A faint smirk curved her mouth. "Oh? And what is your name? You know mine but I do not know yours."
He realized with her words, that it was true.
That could not be, he knew he had to correct her.
She had to know the name she was to fear.
"Forgive my negligence." Tesla lightly touched his breast, dipping his head in respect in the Arrancar manner. "I am called Tesla, and I am the sole Fraccion of the Quinta Espada, Nnoitora Gilga."
...
Five days.
Her lips were cracked, swollen.
As he had promised, the water had not been replaced.
Still won't give in- There was another form in the darkness, tall, slender.
Just leave me alone. The mental war existed only in her mind, for he never said a word.
Rukia could feel him there even when consciousness faded.
...
"Has the pet healed sufficiently?"
Tesla knew she had been aware of his presence the last time he had looked in on the caged room. They walked up the hallways of Las Noches, Nnoitora's longer stride never faltered. Tesla admired the figure his Master cut in battle, images of past victories on the dunes of the desert world replacing the image of the woman momentarily.
"I assume so, sir."
"Assume?" A dangerous note had come into Nnoitora's tone, scathing.
His last injuries had healed fully, he did not wish to have his ribs kicked in again. "Forgive my lack of clarification. The woman lies simply in one place, sir. It is hard therefore for me to discern her state of physical condition."
Nnoitora merely grunted at this, "Aizen'll want to see her soon. Make sure her condition remains stable."
"Yes, sir." He bowed though his master didn't see.
...
She faded in and out of consciousness.
She had ceased to recall the number of days had passed, surely by now Soul Society knew of their failed mission, the fate of the rest of her friends still unknown to even her.
Would that things had been different.
Had she kept on her original path and never strayed from it.
Maybe... Rukia dreamed with longing.
She would be home now.
...
Seven days.
Tesla knew of the exact number, careful in inserting the key into the lock. The wires of the door synchronized to the wavelength of the pattern on the key, released. He waited for any sign of motion from the woman, the servant he had brought, waited on the other side while he entered.
"Kuchiki Rukia."
She lay on her stomach, her hair lank and dirty splayed over her back and shoulders. The scent of decaying blood reached his nostrils, "Kuchiki Rukia, awaken." He loathed extending his hand to touch her, yet did so when his calls gained no response. Through the glove, her shoulder was thin, painfully so. His original assumption of demise hovered at the fringes of his mind. Sweat broke out on his brow.
He turned her over.
Her robe was crusty with dull rust-colored blood. The accusing eyes were sealed shut, a faint grimace making it seem as though her dreams were anything but pleasant. Slowly, he hooked a finger around the strands of hair caught between her cracked lips, tugging it free. The woman looked so fragile now that the fire had died out.
His hand trailed down from her face to the v of her collar.
Her skin was cold.
He laid his hand down on her breast, pressing down against the incline to feel the faintest flutter.
She lived.
The sensation was stronger now. Tesla likened it to the same sensation that washed over him, when after a long battle Master Nnoitora returned unharmed, victory none the least in his grasp. Tesla didn't understand how the woman and his Master were comparable.
They were not.
He slipped an arm about her shoulders and one under her knees, lifting her up completely until her head rested against his chest. She weighed nothing. Briefly he recollected this was the second time he had carried her the same way. Strange how it did not disturb him-
Blood droplets spattered the floor in a rain of gore.
Tesla felt the reiatsu at his back even before he knew the body of the servant had been torn in two.
"What is this, Tesla?" Nnoitora's voice was barely above a soft purr. "Did I not explicitly command the pet's life was in your hands!"
"Master Nnoi-"
Nnoitora didn't allow him to finish.
...
Grunts.
Rukia's world was a world of dark, towering shadows and breathless grunts of pain.
The sound of soft flesh being beaten mercilessly, each strike a hammer into her heart.
Where am I -
The floor bit unmercifully into her back, her head tipped up, revealed to her blurry eyes a taller bowl-shaped male towering over another on their knees.
Her eyes squinted, she couldn't see.
"You. Let. The. Pet. Die."
Each word was punctuated by a vicious blow to the smaller form.
She didn't understand.
The smaller form gagged, falling forward at the other's feet, a shaft of elusive moonlight spilled across a ripped black glove, a torn white sleeve stained a darker color to the jagged ends of pale blond hair and the face she barely recognized, beaten to a bloody, smashed pulp.
"..orry. ...Mast..er..Nnoi.." Tesla reached out for the Espada, pleading in a thick, choked voice.
It was a sickening display of servility.
Disgust for the Fraccion arose along with deep pity.
Nnoitora's long oval face turned down to regard his servant, a sneer on his razor thin lips. "Sorry, Tesla?" The Fraccion's fingers had curled weakly around the curved tip of the Quinta's sandal. Tesla nodded jerkily.
For moments neither moved.
Then, Nnoitora smirked suddenly, ripping his foot away from Tesla's grasp. "Then, pay with your life."
His screams tore deeply into her soul.
"Sto.." her throat rasped, shards cut as she attempted to speak. "St-t-t..op. "
No one heard.
Tears leaked from her aching eyes.
Sheer will forced her to move. Crawling on her belly, little silent cries left her bleeding mouth as she inched out of the cage. "I'm..."
Nnoitora kicked Tesla in the face, repeatedly.
Stop please. She felt no vindication in her tormenter being beaten to death. Stop please.
Tesla's body skittered away across the floor.
Rukia crawled through his blood, smearing fresh gory trails over the old. Her blood-encrusted nails clawed at the floor, creeping toward the Quinta's heel.
"I..I..."
It hurt so much.
Tesla was sideways, breathing soft blood bubbles from his shattered face.
Rukia summoned the last ounce of her strength to grasp Nnoitora's heel. "Alive." she croaked out, her desperate hold loosening. She saw nothing more after her fading gaze closed on Tesla's single eye staring straight at her.
No one...no one should suffer as you do, she thought, her eyes closing to the painful luminescence of the moonlight.
"..kia." The Fraccion whispered.
...
"Fix 'er, pet."
"Oh! Rukia!"
Voices.
Nnoitora's, this recollection came with a violent shudder. She had not forgotten Tesla's broken face.
And Orihime's.
She struggled out of the waves of warm darkness to see her friend's kindly face.
Briefly.
A hazy golden shield and the bowed coppery head she knew so well.
"Orihime."
Rukia lost consciousness again.
...
She awoke inside the cage.
"Orihime!" Starting up, the cry burst from her lips, her hand flung the covers back.
"Your friend has gone back to the Cuatro's care."
That voice.. Rukia conscious of the plain clean robe she was garbed in, clutched the sides closed, her head turning in the direction where the voice came from.
"You."
Tesla leaned against the wall near the window. She saw the floor had been scrubbed clean, no trace remaining of the savagery that had gone on there. The Arrancar himself wore a spotless uniform, immaculate save for the bruising and blackness circling his good eye.
Rukia stared at him, her small hands fisting in the fabric of the robe. "Are you alright? Does it hurt anywhere?" she blurted out, tactless as always. He blinked slowly as if not understanding. Rukia waited, attempting patience as he simply looked at her.
When he finally spoke, it was not what she expected. "Understand, Kuchiki Rukia, I would never have done the same for you."
A tiny spark flared in her insides. She remembered his servile groveling to the monstrous Quinta, shuddering yet her voice remained steady. "I didn't expect you to. In fact," she matched his cool gaze. "Don't even feel like you owe me anything. I still think you're a vile creature like all-"
"Then, why?"
His confusion was evident to her, as was some inner torment playing out over his features.
What does he- Rukia struggled internally as the Arrancar's discomfiture became more obvious.
Then, suddenly, it all made sense.
"Because..." Rukia said with a slight shrug. "I couldn't bear to watch you suffer."
...
The door closed with a gentle snap.
Tesla leaned against it, his gaze straight ahead, unseeing.
"Because you couldn't bear to see me...suffer?" he questioned the emptiness around him. His pale brow furrowed, this was unacceptable.
"Even though, I, I am your enemy?"
This was...so like her.
...
He returned in six hours bringing the dinner cart.
Rukia lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling lost in thought. She didn't even know he was there, until the wheels squeaked passing through the threshold. Again, she wondered to herself, how long had he been standing there?
She was always glad of the fact that he didn't stay.
It was unnerving to be watched while one ate.
Rukia was no fool, she knew that to survive, she needed to build up her strength. Contrariness to Nnoitora's orders, would only be foolhardy at this moment. The tray was slid through the slot, Rukia studied the contents. The same bowl of rice, cutlets of fish and sweet sauce. A pair of chopsticks rested on the folded white napkin.
She picked them up, momentarily closing her eyes. "Itadakimasu." When her eyes opened, she was surprised to find the customary snap of the door had not followed the squeak of the cart leaving, pushed by a nameless Arrancar servant. Instead, Tesla remained, taking up his usual spot across the room, against the wall.
They looked at each other.
She dismayed.
He impassive.
Rukia broke the staring contest first. Fine. See if she'd let him bother her! She scowled down at her bowl, picking up a few grains of the sticky rice. Determinedly chewing and swallowing.
After another minute, her patience broke. "Finally see something of interest?" she snapped, knowing her tone was rude but not caring. Tesla shook his head slowly from side to side, much to her surprise.
"No. I... merely wonder at the duality of a Soul Reaper."
"Are you calling me a hypocrite?" she set down the chopsticks.
"One who lives in hypocrisy perhaps." He assented never mincing words.
Rukia despised and yet at the same time also admired his candor. Even though she was angered by the manner in which he presumed to understand her. "I have my own reasons." she said haughtily as though that ended the matter. To put her point across, she scooted the tray to the side and turned around, putting her back to him, then deliberately picked up the bowl and begun eating.
Silence filled the room.
She almost hoped he had left, stolen out without a sound.
That hope was dashed.
"I see you are childish as well."
She glowered at the wall long after he had gone with the tray, irritated.
What kind of observation was that?
...
He had a new bruise and a split lip. There was also a limp in his step that she noticed.
"Why do you serve him?" The bowl was in her hand, untouched.
"That is like asking why do you Soul Reapers live as you do."
"That's no comparison!" she snapped, turning slightly to send a glower over her shoulder. Commanding officers in Seireitei did not issue corporal punishment anymore for disobedience.
"Then, perhaps explain what is your reason for existing?"
"My reason for-" she muttered, realization cleaving the words to her tongue. "So...so, you choose to live this way?" And be beaten at the slightest infraction?
"It's all I know." Tesla said solemnly. Rukia detected something else in his somber tone, something that saddened her. "I exist to serve Master Nnoitora. He is my reason for being."
...
"Tomorrow, Aizen will reveal the function the pet will serve- hey, are you listening to me, Tesla?"
"Yes, sir." A single round chair piled high with white cushions dominated the room, Nnoitora reclined in it, one thin hand propping his razor sharp chin. Tesla stood beside the door, his arms folded behind his back. "You said Lord Aizen will explain the reason for Kuchiki Rukia's continued existence tomorrow."
Nnoitora grunted softly, "hn. Yeah I suppose the ruse might be for her to bear a weapon against the other dogs of Soul Society."
Tesla's expression didn't change, "she will not do it."
He was favored with an air of suspicion. "And how do you presume to understand the mind of the enemy?"
"She will not." Tesla maintained, hardly bothered by Nnoitora's increasing distrust. A slight darkening of his features preceded his last sentence. "She would rather die than betray those whom she calls friends. Excuse me, I must go now to attend to the prisoner."
He left then with a slight bow, leaving Nnoitora to ponder his words.
...
There was a dress pushed through the slot with a pair of black socks and plain sandals.
"What's this?"
"Your uniform," he said, straightening from the crouch at the wall of the cage. Rukia had drawn the garment closer, but stopped from unfolding it at his words.
"I already told you! I-"
"You will be going before Lord Aizen soon." Tesla wouldn't look at her as he said it. She noticed the difference, making a face down at the clothing.
"That traitor.." she had never forgotten even for an instant what Aizen's betrayal of all of Soul Society had done, the lives it had wrecked. At the mere thought of being paraded before him, she was sickened, flinging the garment away with a sneer of disgust.
"No."
"Wear them." Her obstinacy was tiring.
"No." She leveled her gaze on him. "I refuse."
He sighed, withdrawing the special key from a pocket in his tunic. "Then. I will dress you myself."
"You wouldn't..." she saw the motions he was preparing to make, the key sliding in the lock; her hand hurriedly shot out, yanking the garment to her body. Her eyes were wide when he stopped, sighing. The Arrancar and the Soul Reaper stared at one another.
"Well, aren't you going to leave?" Rukia demanded, appalled that color had risen to her cheeks, they burned even after he had sent her another look. Amused, her mind whispered, but had turned around, placing his back to her.
She scowled at the way she had been forced, but wisely kept her words to herself. Discarding the plain robe with a casual toss of the hand, then letting the folds of the dress cascade over her head as she pulled it over. In the space of the few seconds while she fumbled with strands of her hair caught in the collar, her sight obscured by the white garment; she wondered if he looked.
Glanced.
Haste made her fingers slip. With an irritated sigh, she yanked it down, glaring suspiciously at his form standing stationary just beyond the framework of fine wires.
"I hate you." She said impulsively. The dress had full, princess sleeves and a simple flowing skirt that fell from below the gathered bust-line. The only piece that remained aberrant, was a thong of black unfastened that went around her throat like a collar. It was the only touch of black, for the dress was white.
"More than you despise my Lord Aizen?"
He was always surprising her. Saying things she would never expect an Arrancar to know or care. "No." she answered after a moment, balancing herself on one foot, while tugging one of the socks up on the other. "Aizen desires to destroy my world, you are only one of many of his pawns. The blame does not fall solely on your shoulders."
"I see."
Silence lapsed. Finishing the socks, she slipped the sandals on. They fit tightly, pinching her toes. Rukia tried to ignore the pain, rocking slightly on her heels to get used to wearing shoes again.
"The dress."
She looked at his back curiously.
"It suits you." Tesla finished quietly.
...
Aizen was a bastard.
He truly thought he was God.
Rukia had never seen more of Las Noches, before being taken through it. Tesla stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, leading her forward through innumerable hallways. Nnoitora strode ahead, leaving them behind more than once.
She assumed that was the Quinta's way of showing they were inferior beings to him. Bastard. Her dark thoughts were interrupted when after a final turn, two large double doors came into sight. Nnoitora had stopped beside them.
"Took ya long enough." He complained, glaring at her.
Rukia's eyes narrowed, but she swallowed her retort, eyeing him haughtily, "well? Aren't you going to announce us?"
Nnoitora sucked his teeth.
She knew she was safe for the moment from any violent outburst from the Espada. The Quinta wouldn't dare risk incurring Aizen's displeasure if she were bruised black and blue. Nnoitora gave her one last dagger-filled look, then called loudly, "I've brought Kuchiki Rukia, as ordered."
Some silent signal must've been passed on.
Nnoitora stepped forward, pushing one side of the large doors open. Rukia watched the inner darkness of the room spill outward, her trepidation mounting though she attempted to put on a brave face. She wouldn't let Aizen see how frightened she was.
Tesla urged her forward.
One word. Just one word and...Aizen could set Nnoitora upon her.
"Ms. Kuchiki, how nice of you to join us."
She could barely see anything as they advanced toward the center of the room. The ex Captain's voice seemed to echo from all around. Behind, the shaft of light from the hallway vanished, Rukia had a sickening feeling she was trapped.
Fighting off panic, she suddenly discerned a huge white pillar rising from the darkness to a great height. There was a chair at its top and the sitter was a large man with curling dark brown hair and even colder eyes. Rukia recognized his face immediately.
"Aizen." she murmured, her every instinct screaming at her to fight.
Tesla's hands kept her from moving, "Lord Aizen to you." he reminded in a soft hiss. She resented him bitterly at that moment, choosing to twist free from his grasp. Nnoitora made a motion to step after her, but Aizen held his hand up.
"Let her."
She glared, stopping a few paces from her original position. "What is it you want from me?" she crossed her arms over her chest to steel herself. Tesla's presence behind her had acted as some kind of bulwark as ridiculous as it seemed. She felt cold without it, and...she could feel Aizen's immense reiatsu threatening to drive her down.
"Not many things, Ms. Kuchiki. I believe distraction describes your position best."
Her brow furrowed, "what the hell are you talking about?"
"It's a simple task." Aizen seemed to think of something else, as he smiled down at her benevolently, "ah tell me, Ms. Kuchiki. Do you have many friends? People whom know you and..." the pleasant smile didn't extend to his eyes, they gleamed with a cold and calculating light. "Trust you?"
Her skin crawled, bravely she stared up at him, defiance in her stance. "Why would I tell you anything?"
Aizen froze her with a single look, "the correct answer is yes, Ms. Kuchiki. There are those whom trust you implicitly. Trust you with a sword in your hand and their backs to you. Trust you enough so as to...lead them to their deaths."
The realization hit her in waves, for moments she was stunned beyond comprehension.. then the anger came. "I would never betray my friends! I would rather die than do something so monstrously evil!"
"No?"Aizen motioned to Nnoitora, smiling still. "Perhaps some persuasion is in order."
She didn't even hear the sword being drawn.
"Master Nnoitora?"
She spun toward the sound of Tesla's raised voice, seeing the blade bite into the white collar, a thin red line appeared. Nnoitora held his unreleased Zanpaku-to against his Fraccion's throat.
"Beg, Tesla. See how much a Soul Reaper cares...beg!" The maniacal gleam of bloodlust glowed within Nnoitora's onyx eye, his bared teeth grinned asininely.
Aizen's reiatsu bore down on her, rooting her to the spot.
The Arrancar and the Soul Reaper stared at one another.
Rukia could barely breathe. Don't make me-don't say-
"No." Tesla said quietly, his eye closing. Nnoitora sliced through him mercilessly. Rukia let out a choked scream, her hands flying to her mouth. Aizen looked upon the whole proceedings with mild boredom.
"Now, Ms. Kuchiki, let that serve as an example. I doubt you would wish for the same thing to happen to a beloved friend."
She couldn't tear her eyes away from the spreading pool of crimson forming beneath the blond Arrancar's body. Until that is, a muffled cry echoed from the darkness, and two figures stepped forward. One, a smaller black-haired Arrancar with a partially broken bone helmet and apathetic disinterest on his face. The second figure had her hands bound before her with heavy chains, a black gag was fitted over her mouth, tears glistened in Orihime's eyes.
"Ori..Orihime!" Rukia started forward.
Aizen smirked, elevating his reiatsu.
She couldn't move once again
"That's better, Ms. Kuchiki. Such selfishness is to be expected of a Soul Reaper. You wouldn't stay Nnoitora's blade, but for a friend..." Aizen trailed off delicately.
"That..." she began, forcing the word from her constricting throat. That's not...
The Arrancar - Ulquiorra, drew the sword from the scabbard at his waist. Stalking around Orihime's cowering form, he leveled the blade midway across her torso, waiting for further command.
"My loyal Cuatro will gut sweet Ms. Inoue before your eyes...if you do not acquiesce and give your word."
Ulquiorra brought the blade back, a severe elegance to the cut it would inflict. Not enough to kill, but enough to devastate a human's fragile body. Rukia watched, paralyzed with mind-numbing horror.
"Just one word of agreement." Aizen said, leaning back as if he had all the time in the world to wait for her answer. "And Ms. Inoue's life will be spared."
She started to shake her head.
The blade swung back then forward, whistling piercingly.
Images of Orihime cut to pieces filled her mind. She shut her eyes tightly, "I.. I will!"
Silence fell.
The pressure released. Her eyes opened. Ulquiorra had sheathed his blade and stood beside Orihime, hands in pockets. Orihime herself wept the tears Rukia couldn't; she knew of her own part in condemning them both as traitors.
Rukia forced herself to look away, to turn up to the false God. His smugness sickened her. Yet she still spoke, lips trembling. "There is one other thing.." she could barely believe she was asking, wanting the remains of the pitiful Arrancar blinded by intense loyalty.
Aizen appeared to listen with indulgent benevolence. "Yes? Go on."
"May I have..Tesla?"
Aizen's smile dipped, subtle confusion momentarily clouded his expression. He had not expected that. "I don't see...why not." The smile returned. "Nnoitora?"
The Quinta snorted, kicking the limp form on the floor with less violence. "Worthless Fraccion is dead to me." He sneered suddenly, "you can have his remains, Pet. Be my guest."
She scowled at him, moving across the floor toward them. With one last hard-eyed stare, she dropped down to a crouch, suddenly hesitant. She had never deliberately touched the Arrancar before, this was...the first time.
His hair was soft.
She hadn't thought it would be. "Unchain Orihime, please."
Aizen gave the order.
Within seconds it seemed, Orihime's ungainly footsteps were clattering across the room. Breathless, the human girl dropped down, "I'm so sorry! Ru-"
"Don't." What's done was done. Rukia had with effort, turned him over. The gash was deep across his torso, the white uniform stained an unforgiving crimson. Tesla's expression was composed, resigned. Resigned to live and die a second time for his master.
Her fingers folded, brushing a feather light caress to the rise of his cheekbone.
Rukia hated Nnoitora more then.
"Heal him."
Orihime's large grey eyes searched her face, "Rukia..."
"Heal him." She repeated, rising, keeping her emotions tightly under control while Aizen watched.
"A-Alright." Orihime watched as well, curiosity, suspicion all brimming beneath the surface. She touched her hairclips slowly, "Soten Kisshun..."
Rukia backed up, unable to take her eyes off of the Arrancar as the golden shield formed over his body. Her eyes closed, she forced herself to turn the other way. Coldness in her tone, "take me to my room."
...
They gave her a different room hidden behind a sliding wall.
The window was barred like the cell, but an overhead light illuminated the confines easily. A large almost shapeless sofa was against one wall while a small round table was in the center. A rug was on the floor in geomantic black and white shapes. Nnoitora shoved her almost rudely in, Rukia shot him a dirty look over her shoulder.
"So, I guess that makes us comrades, eh, pet?"
"Go to Hell." she snapped, her glare sweeping the room's interior.
Nnoitora laughed obscenely, "Hell? We are already in it! Get used to it!"
He cackled as the door closed and sealed up, silence at last fell.
Rukia stared around her new quarters, then finally to the elusive moon she could see hanging in the sky and dropped her face into her hands.
...
Tesla awoke.
The Inoue woman's face came into focus, the glow from her shield dissipating.
What was this...why was he...
"Get up, Tesla." Nnoitora commanded.
He did, the Inoue woman backed away into the Cuatro's shadow.
The Soul Reaper wasn't among them.
Nnoitora stood apart, thin arms crossed. "Be thankful."
Tesla realized it had become very obvious to those present, he was searching for her.
"The pet saved you. You're hers now."
His eye widened.
What?
...
"Why?"
"Why do you keep asking that?"
At last he grew silent.
Rukia sat, her full skirts spread out over her folded legs. She hadn't moved since Nnoitora had left her. Tesla stood across the room, against the wall near the door.
"So, it was mercy then."
"I thought I told you to shut up!"
The quiet began to grate on her ears. Moodily staring straight ahead, she said, "tell me something about your-" not life, she recalled just in time. "Existence prior to Las Noches." she finished.
"Is that your first command?"
What was it with him and orders? "No." Rukia muttered, "my first was to tell you to be quiet. And now I want you to talk." she paused, thinking of something, her gaze tilted his way so she could catch his fleeting expression when she said it. "that jackal Nnoitora rarely let you speak."
Tesla hesitated now. "Master Nnoitora is great. He is correct in the assumption that my opinions are meaningless."
"They are not!" she immediately snapped, turning fully to look at him. He flinched visibly at her raised tone. Rukia frowned, disliking the flavor of her own pity. "Talk please. Simply tell me all that you remember prior to becoming an Arrancar."
Tesla glanced at her then took a shallow breath like a sigh.
He told her all that he knew.
...
He had never talked so long.
Nor heard the sound of his voice for any lengthy period of time.
Tesla was surprised to find his throat mildly sore when he had finished. The woman had changed positions once, lying flat on her stomach now, her head tilted sideways on the cushion. Once or twice she had interrupted his narrative with a question which he answered to the best of his ability. For the whole of it, she had lapsed into silence, listening.
He had never thought much could be derived from a one-sided conversation yet discovered he felt different, lighter somehow after simple verbalization. After a few minutes silence, he recalled quite suddenly, his negligence.
"Time has passed. I shall go immediately and have a tray prepared for-"
"Don't bother."
He stopped, "do you not require sustenance?"
"I'm not hungry." she mumbled, a shffting sound as her legs folded, the skirt rustling. "You've been standing there for so long...why not come and sit down?"
Did she not understand? The Soul Reaper's ignorance astounded him yet again. "I cannot."
"I asked you to sit down-"
"I cannot." Tesla repeated stolidly.
"And why the hell not?"
"Because. I am inferior to you. Our status does not permit me to allow myself respite in your presence. I must always be ready-" ...to defend you.
She made a face. "Just sit down."
He sensed she wouldn't relent. Kuchiki Rukia's obstinacy was something he had taken note of her before, sometimes aggravating though it was. Tesla sighed, crossing the room slowly, each motion a conscious effort not to keep the proper distance between superior and subordinate.
He sat the farthest away as possible, on the opposite end.
After a long moment of silence, the woman tilted her chin up, her look slightly smug, "see? Isn't that better?"
"I did as you commanded, there is no further need for explanation of my comfort."
He would never say it was.
...
They hadn't returned her Zanpaku-to.
Aizen didn't trust her.
No one did, not even Orihime anymore.
Rukia twirled the Shinai she had requested to practice with. The small table had been moved to one side, while she stood in the center, clasping the wooden sword the way she been taught.
One step.
To the side.
Sweep.
Cross blades.
Whirl.
Her uniform had changed. Consisting of plain white hakama and a sleeveless tunic. The collar was high descending into a slight v at the chest. A small clip with a white quartz flower had been left atop the clothing when she'd found it after she had woken up. From Tesla, she supposed, curious about the clip.
It wasn't the finest thing she had ever been given, gifts from Byakuya had always been elegant, tasteful articles as befitting her status as his adopted sister. But, she still smiled as she pinned back her hair.
Spin. Low strike.
The opponent in her mind's eye, parried.
Rukia closed her eyes, remember no-mindedness.
She spun about facing the rest of the room, her shinai stabbed the air, coming to rest inches above Tesla's face. He had entered silently and had approached. Remarking now.
"I see you are proficient with a sword."
She opened her eyes, locking gazes with him for a second, she smiled faintly. "To a certain extent." She switched hands, holding the tip down to show non-aggression meant. "How is Orihime?"
A shadow fell over his face. "I believe the Inoue woman is in healthful spirits."
Rukia didn't miss the pall, wondering at it. Was there something else perhaps that he wasn't telling her? "Is there anything else?" she queried, moving across the room to lay the shinai down and take up the glass of water resting on the table. Tesla had turned slightly in a circle to keep her with in his sights.
"Only one. Lord Aizen wishes to extend to you the right to use our training grounds if you so desire."
The offer was fairly generous, a chance to be out of bounds of the locked room was tempting but Rukia didn't want to associate with any more Arrancars than was necessary. If they were all in Nnoitora's cast...
"No, I'm-"
"You would be permitted limited use of your Zanpaku-to."
Rukia stopped, the glass was partially raised to her lips. To hold Sode no Shirayuki in her hands again! She hadn't realized until the offer was before her, how much she had longed to wield her sword again. Another thing occurred to her, she faced him.
"Would you-"
"Be in attendance? Yes."
She felt strange asking it. "Would you... spar with me?"
He dipped his head, "if you wish."
...
That was unspoken.
Not Mistress Rukia.
It bothered her more than she would care to admit, Tesla still called Nnoitora, 'Master.'
She knew too that when he left during the afternoon, it was to wait on the Quinta.
Nnoitora's sneer at her in passing in the intersecting corridor and Tesla's pause for a swift bow to the Espada made that much clear. Rukia's fist clenched at her side. She kept silent. Nnoitora was the first she longed to run through with her sword, somehow the Quinta had replaced Aizen with the depth of despise she felt.
She wasn't sure why.
"Tesla." She also hated the way the Fraccion looked after his former master, with adulation evident in his manner. "Tesla!" Rukia hissed, glaring up at him. For some reason she wanted to hit him when Nnoitora had finally disappeared from sight and Tesla's attention had gone back to her.
"Let's go." She spat with as much venom as she possibly could. Turning around, she deliberately stretched the length of her stride so that he was forced to follow several steps behind; like the rest of the Fraccion, she noted, as they passed another group. A caramel-skinned woman with straw-blonde hair. The Espada had three other females with her in various states of scantily-clad uniforms.
Rukia envied their bodies momentarily, before she had even realized her train of thought. She did notice that Tesla barely paid a glance to the women Arrancars, only a slight nod to the leader before passing them by.
"Who were they?" Rukia whispered, lessening her pace in an attempt to fall in beside him. Tesla simply decreased his step, to maintain distance between them.
"Tia Halibel, the Tercera Espada and her three Fracciones."
"What number is that?" Rukia had limited knowledge of the language.
She didn't see the slight quirk at the corner of his downcast mouth. "Three."
So, Nnoitora was Fifth, Ulquiorra, Orihime's guard was Fourth and the strangely colored blonde Tia Halibel was the third Espada. Rukia ran through it twice in her mind, attempting to get it straight. She found she couldn't get the recollection of the woman's bust-line out of her mind, accompanied by a subtle feeling of envy.
Rukia glanced down surreptitiously at her own bosom, nonexistent. Then, moments later wondered why it even bothered her, the inferiority of her own body. She decided to test her theory.
"What do you think of the Tercera?" she was barely able to pronounce the number.
"She is a capable fighter." Tesla answered tonelessly, "though she is of the female species."
His notation of Halibel's gender didn't please her. "I didn't mean her strength. I meant do you find her attractive?" Rukia blurted out before thinking. She colored instantly, thanking whatever Gods were out there, that they weren't side by side.
"I don't-" His confusion was plain.
"Never mind!" Rukia said hurriedly, snapping up the opportunity to right her slip of the tongue. "Just forget it!"
Silence fell.
They went down two more corridors.
Just when she was becoming impatient about the length of the Palace, she saw a dead end up ahead. She thought she recalled the details of the layout to get from her room to the training grounds that he had related to her. Shouldn't it be...
"What gives?" she immediately snapped, spinning around to face him, "there's no training-"
Tesla was expressionless, " We passed the turn two corridors down."
She gaped openly at him, "and why didn't you say anything?"
"You seemed lost in thought. I did not wish to incur your anger by pointing out the obvious."
...
The grounds were empty when they arrived.
The place was massive, columns lining the walls held up the high-ceiling far above. Rukia had never seen anything like it. For a few moments, she stayed still, taking it all in. Tesla had wandered off and now his steps echoed, coming closer.
"Your Zanpaku-to." He said, holding out the black scabbard in one hand.
Rukia turned to him, her gaze on the sword. Extending her hand, she gripped it, lifting it toward her. "Thanks." No matter if he didn't understand the cause of her gratitude. It still meant a lot to be able to hold her sword again.
"Shall we?"
...
It reminded her of the time spent with Orihime.
"Let's find it together."
In the field behind Thirteenth Division and the nights spent talking on their bedrolls.
There was some bitterness to the swing of her sword cleaving through the Balas Tesla sent.
What had they found?
He was very careful not to hurt her.
Rukia's pride as a warrior demanded no holding back; but even as they continued, blades crossing, clanging, sparks flying. She realized he wasn't even conscious of holding back.
So, why did he?
The next swing, she gained ground, slicing through his shoulder in a splash of vivid red against the solid white. Tesla staggered; blood ran in rivulets down his arm, painting the white canvas.
"Let's stop." she said firmly, stepping back, sheathing her sword.
Accordingly he followed suit, seeming to ignore the wound, "shall I go and have the servants prepare a bath?"
"No." She rolled her eyes, getting closer. "We have to take care of your shoulder first."
He stared at her in a manner which she thought peculiar. "I am fine-"
"Like hell you're not!" she roared, her voice echoed and bounced in the chamber. Roughly Rukia grabbed him by the other arm and forcefully pulled him along to one of the small cabinets she had noticed that lined one of the walls nearest the door.
She assumed they contained styptic supplies but was disappointed to find they didn't.
Snatching a few white towels, she huffingly dragged him to the doors. "Never mind! I know where there's some."
...
She was thankful they didn't come across any more members of the Espada.
Once back inside her room, she directed him to the sofa, glaring when he hesitated.
"Sit down!" Rukia barked, propping her sword against her thigh, her fingers sliding back the hidden compartment in the hilt, inside was a small kit of styptic ointment and a roll of bandages carried by all officers of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. She was relieved to find the kit whole. Turning back to the sofa, she motioned with difficulty, her hands full.
"Take off your uniform."
He didn't hesitate to comply, finding the secret zipper track and gliding it midway only to wince when the action required motion from his left side. Rukia made a noise of disgruntlement, stalking over to the sofa, she dumped the items she had been holding and grasped the fabric herself. Yanking it away to reveal the sculpted plains of his torso. Adorning both sides were black lines with dots beneath them, they were the same that were embroidered onto the front of his uniform, tattoos she guessed, they reminded her of Renji's.
It was slightly incongruous to see the expanse of flesh perfect then to look in his face and see the broken bone gracing his forehead. It was an all too subtle reminder that he was an Arrancar. She wondered where his empty chain of fate was?
"Is something the matter?"
She broke her gaze off, realizing she had been staring. "N-No. Of course not!" Irritated with herself, she rose and dragged the small table over, after wetting one of the towels she proceeded to carefully wipe the gash clean.
During this period, Tesla never complained, nor moved, only to hiss softly, his one eye visibly narrowing in pain when she applied the ointment. "Sorry.." Rukia murmured, unrolling the bandages. She felt the warmth of his skin as she twined the long white strips up and over. It was the same as when dressing that idiot Renji's wounds from sparring with Ikkaku, she told herself, even when something in her whispered there was no comparison.
"I'm finished," she announced unnecessarily, her fingers sliding clumsily over the bandages and the rise of muscle. She felt his arm subtly shift beneath her fingertips and quickly turned away, gathering up the soiled towels.
"Is it better?" she stood, dropping her bundle down on the table and then lifting it with both hands to move it back across the room.
After some hesitation, Tesla fixed his bloodstained uniform, the hiss of the zipper sliding up the metal teeth, the only sound until he spoke again. "Yes."
She didn't see him lightly touch the bandages, his hand closed in a slight fist.
No one had ever tended his wounds before.
...
Sode no Shirayuki was gone.
Tesla had left to change his uniform and return her Zanpaku-to. He hadn't said whom had care of it, but she suspected it was the Octava, Szayelaporro. Sighing to herself, she gazed about the room, a slight weight of loneliness darkening her thoughts.
The room felt empty now.
Rukia closed her eyes in an effort to calm her mind. She still felt off with her emotions. Something about tending his wounds- something. She couldn't quite pinpoint what had disturbed her so. Was it memories of Soul Society and happier days?
Rising to her feet, she wandered her familiar path around the rug. Moonlight streamed in from the window, her glance went to the elusive moon knowing it wasn't the same as the one over Soul Society and the living world.
Ichigo...
Thoughts of the orange-haired deputy slowed her steps, pausing beneath the moon, Rukia cupped a handful of light in her hand, wondering if the next time she saw him they would be enemies.
...
She decided to take a relaxing bath. Maybe the warm water would soothe away her moroseness. Before she had often awoken to find that breakfast and a bath had been prepared. Tesla was anything but lax in his duties. It seemed Nnoitora's displeasure and brutality stemmed from sheer barbarianism rather than his Fraccion's mistakes.
A pity, Rukia thought, turning the taps of the large sunken tub on full blast. That made Tesla's devotion all the more pitiable.
Soon the tub was half full and she had locked the connecting door, laid a towel out at the edge and was untying the black sash from the hakama. A slight sound like the creaking of a step came from the next room. Rukia paused, her hands stilling their motions, "Tesla?" she hesitated on opening the door. "Is that you?"
Silence. Rukia listened hard, her ear cocked for any more sounds. After a time she shrugged, disregarding her nagging sense that something was wrong.
Finishing undressing, she dropped the sweat-stained tunic and hakama into a hamper at the other end of the room, then padded nude to the water gently lapping at the sides of the cool marble tub.
As she lowered herself in, she thought she heard another sound, like that of someone leaning against the closed door.
Briefly she thought of calling out again, then...didn't.
If it was important he would tell her about it later.
...
The blood wouldn't stop flowing.
"So, I see the pet took care of your wound. Did it make you feel special, Tesla? Did it make you feel like something cared about you?" Nnoitora softly asked. On his knees, slumped over, Tesla watched the red droplets that oozed from his mouth drizzle the floor.
"Answer me!" Nnoitora's voice was shriller now, his kick no less savage.
The pain didn't mean much.
A crude hand roughly grabbed a hold of his short blond locks, twisting his head up painfully.
"I see you won't answer." Nnoitora's long oval face hovered over his, "I see you don't care about your former Master anymore, Tesla."
"Tha-that's not true..Mast-"
"You like that filthy little Soul Reaper bitch." The Quinta breathed, his onyx eye a mere slit, his long fingers crooking painfully into Tesla's scalp. "Just wait, you fool. Well just wait 'til she turns on you-"
"She won't." Quietly. With conviction.
Tesla was hardly aware of speaking until Nnoitora had hissed, "what did you say?"
He bore the increasing pain in silence.
Nnoitora shook him back and forth, "did you dare contradict your former master! Do you dare to presume yourself more than just a worthless piece of trash no one cares for?"
No response.
The grip was shifted. A cackle burst in the air. Nnoitora grinned manically down at his former Fraccion. "Perhaps I shall make you truly worthless, Tesla." The glint of a sword drawn and held point downward filled the Fraccion with something he had never felt before.
Loathing.
"You'll never be able to see your precious bitch again!"
...
The bath had drained away most of her mental tension. Rukia dressed in a soft white robe she had found in a small chest near the hamper, tying the silky ribbon-like sash, she thought back on the noises she had heard in the next room.
"Tesla?" she called.
Silence.
Frowning to herself, she went and unlocked the door, the body that had been resting against it, jerked away. Instantly she recognized the blond hair.
"Tesla! What's wrong? Why didn't you answer-"
Something was wrong.
Blood splotched the floor.
It hadn't been there before.
"Tesla..."
He scrabbled away on his hands and knees, haste made him stumble over simple words. "I-I'm sorry, I am of no use to you anymore."
"What the hell is-" the blood came from his face. A sickening feeling washed over her. Rukia grasped him by the shoulder, stilling his motions immediately, with her other hand raising it to clasp his cheek.
"Who..." the ruined socket was coated with blood while more stained his uniform. She slowly clasped his face in both hands, her lips trembled, eyes filling. "Who did this to you?"
...
The black-haired Arrancar barely turned at her harried address.
"Ulquiorra!" Breathless, Rukia skated to a stop, fresh blood coated her hands and more smears had stained her robe, but she ignored it, staring after the Espada with desperation. "You are Ulquiorra, right? I-"
"State your business, woman. I do not associate with trash."
Trash was she? Angrily she glared, knowing to say the wrong thing would antagonize the Arrancar to her. "I-I need to see Orihime!"
His eyes coolly surveyed her, "I cannot grant that request. If Lord Aizen-"
"Please!" she hated herself for thinking it, even saying it. "My-my Fraccion has been..hurt..I-I need him healed- please! I-I'm o-one of y-you!"
"I cannot grant your request," he repeated after another beat of looking at her. "Until Lord Aizen commands it."
He walked away.
She let out a frustrated scream.
...
Rukia returned to her room, haggard, defeated.
"I'm sorry." she murmured upon opening the door.
Tesla had remained where she had left him, seated on the sofa.
"I..." she looked across to the small table and the styptic supplies she'd left out. "I...I'll do my best." She went to the connecting bathroom and ransacked the cabinet for towels and ran warm water in the sink.
When she returned, Tesla shook his head at her approach.
"I lack purpose now. I cannot serve-" you.
"I don't care." Rukia lightly touched his cheek, guiding the angle of his face away. "I'm just sorry I can't do anything more than this." She began applying healing Kido that she had stored away.
Tesla felt the throbbing pain ease, sightless, he knew the Soul Reaper was standing right before him. Her touch was gentle, her fingers small, splayed out over his chin.
"Thank...you...Rukia."
It was more than enough.
...
The servants came.
Rukia directed them herself.
Towels were replaced, clean uniforms brought as well as extra blankets.
She knew his shame was great.
A strip of cloth like a blindfold had been prepared, she tied it on for him.
"I'm sorry I have to go now," she said again when Ulquiorra came.
Aizen called.
She tried not to think of what the sudden summons meant.
...
"Why did you not dispose of the Quinta's ex Fraccion?"
"I don't have to answer to you." She had not forgiven the green-eyed Cuatro for refusing her.
Ulquiorra looked ahead, a faraway tremor rocked the floor and walls.
"No. You do not."
...
They had come.
The enemy. Her friends.
Before a long table surrounded by nine of the ten Espada, Ulquiorra left her side and sat down completing the number. She passed by Ichimaru's leer with a shudder inside and Tosen's silent vigilance to approach the head of the table.
"You know what you must do." Aizen was smiling, gesturing from her to the hologram playing out in the center of the table.
Her heart fell.
Her voice was of stone. "Yes. May I ask for..."
Inside she was breaking apart.
Brother...you as well?
...
Black Soul Reaper robes were brought within the hour.
Rukia thanked the silent servants, taking the robes in her arms. Once the door had closed she had gone to the bathroom and changed, folding the Arrancar uniform neatly and placing it atop the hamper. She had a feeling she would never wear it again.
Staring at herself in the mirror above the sink, Rukia saw the same face she had known before, only her hair was a little longer.
But, she had changed inside.
The final touch was to pin the flower clip above her ear.
"They're inside the Palace." Tesla said.
Surprised, Rukia stopped in the doorway, "how do you-"
"Synchronized consciousness. A pitched battle is being fought in the northwest corridor of Las Noches."
Rukia walked slowly across the room, stopping in front of him. "Where is that?"
"Far from here."
"Has-" she couldn't bring herself to say her brother's name.
"The Captains have separated. It is believed they are looking for you."
She felt cold all over. "I see...I...I must go."
For moments neither spoke.
She gathered her courage. "Tesla...as my final command..." Rukia closed her eyes, leaning in to whisper softly into his ear, "don't look for me. Run far, far away, get away from Las Noches. Please live... that is all I ask of you."
The door opened. Orihime stood on the threshold, useless tears in her eyes.
Rukia hurried and brushed past her without another word.
...
Las Noches was a maze.
Soon, she was breathless from running and still she could sense Byakuya's reiatsu even closer.
One hour.
She thought it had been an hour, it felt like many more.
Don't follow me-Don't come any closer-
There were no tears left, no more words to say.
She reached the caged room and slipped inside.
Her reiatsu disappeared.
She gazed about the moonlight-filled interior and drew Sode no Shirayuki.
Many faces and memories passed through her mind in a single second of hesitation.
One remained when all else had faded.
He- the pitiful, abused Arrancar whom no one cared about.
"Tesla." she steadied the cool blade to her throat.
And closed her eyes.
"There is no home for us."
...
The Soul Reapers were winning.
Master Nnoitora had fallen to a Captain.
Another had lost Rukia's trail and wandered, cutting down all whom stood in his way.
Kuchiki Byakuya did not know where she would've gone.
Tesla did.
Red gleamed like ruby crystal beneath the shaft of moonlight.
He had disobeyed.
The sword had fallen from her grasp, the lifeblood most concentrated on the slit across her throat. Tesla went to her then, dropping down and taking the Soul Reaper's body in his arms for the last time, feeling the warmth stealing away.
"You said not to follow." He murmured, cradling her closer to his chest. "But, without you..."
The sting of the blade was barely felt.
Fresh blood gleamed beneath the moon.
"I have no purpose for existing."
...
There was another.
Byakuya's cold, severe gaze refused to accept what he saw.
"Captain Kuchiki?" Hanataro Yamada peered around him, then cried aloud, "Ms. Rukia!"
The medic flew to his sister's side, "C-Captain Kuchiki-t-the ice! She's still alive!"
Byakuya turned away from the sight. It was aberrant. Unacceptable.
A Soul Reaper in the arms of an Arrancar.
"Let's take her home."
-Finis-
AN: The longest one-shot in the collection. -.- Took me a while to complete...but I think the end result is fairly good considering the pairing it involved. :) Thanks for reading.
No flames!
Reviews appreciated!