Note: And finally ffnet decides to be stable enough for me to post an update. The last chapter received so few reviews lol although I think it's also because ffnet crashed for several days. And by then, anyone who's felt like leaving something just moved on.

Anyway, I'm giving out a warning as early as now. Things go from bad to worse. I pushed the ratings up to M not for smut, but for all the foul language (and train of thought because who really censors their own mind?) and violence. I'm not going to hold off on injuries either. When it rains, it pours and all that.

It's 6 am and I edited all night and haven't slept yet. If there are glaring typos at this point, I apologize. And please review! It really helps.

Title for this chapter is a line from "Auguries of Innocence" (my favorite poem)

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Chapter 36: Eternity in an Hour

"Do the two of you actually have a plan?"

Tsukasa forces his eyes open to stare at his friends. He's so tired and sleepy that he doesn't recognize which of his friends asked the question. Rui, he can take out of the list since he's on the other side with Rukia. Soujiro and Akira are on his left and both are nosy enough to say something like that.

Rukia leans forward on her seat to look at Akira and Soujiro. "Not get married."

Akira shakes his head and props both arms on the table as he turns away to watch the remaining people on the dance floor. Tsukasa follows the gaze silently, and closes his eyes once more. Too much light and too loud noise combined makes him crankier than he already is. "Wake me up when we're leaving," he says to no one in particular.

Most of the old people have left and the few that are still here are grouped together, exchanging deals with other associates in one form or another. These people make the most of their non-working hours by talking about work. They breathe, eat, sleep, and shit in this environment. Business as usual. Meanwhile, people on the dance floor are the few youths who have been bored stiff and are passing time off until their parents are done.

The formal event ended on the engagement and the free for all party has begun. This won't last long, but it's the typical icebreaker to end the night; Alcohol, loud music and none of the old and the powerful as they're all busy with each other.

Hitsugaya and Soifon left early. Tsukasa isn't surprised since the two didn't seem to have a single fun bone in their person. Not that he's having any fun sitting in the corner table either. As soon as the first loud song started up, he moved out of the presidential table into one of the quiet corners and found Rukia there also, half-asleep with her feet on top of a nearby chair. Soon after, his friends also followed after they danced and flirted with the random girls. How they managed to drag Rui with them is a mystery in itself but when Rui left, they all followed.

And they've all been quiet up until someone asked that stupid question.

"Can't say we didn't see this coming," Akira murmurs. "We all know we'd all end up with whoever our parents chose. But, this is too early even for Tsukasa."

"Rather obvious what led to this, don't you think?" Soujiro raises his eyebrow at Akira.

That doesn't need an answer and Tsukasa is glad to be left alone. He wants to rest.

He can't sleep, but he closes his eyes anyway and forces his body to relax. He's just too tired. His anger and frustration have settled into calm acceptance and the change has left him empty. He's lost this battle to his mother.

"No one's getting married tonight at least. And not for a long time."

They have time, like Rukia said. While they're engaged, both Kaede and Byakuya might get off their backs until the time they actually have to get married which won't be until a few more years. The earliest attempts to harass them will be when Rukia turns twenty-one, and that's a very long time from today.

He hears Rukia pull away from the table, the chairs she used squeaking and scratching the floor with her careless movement. "I'll go on ahead. I've stayed long enough in the aftermath that I don't think it's rude for the hostess to leave."

Soujiro greets her happy birthday for all its worth and she laughs it off. Her tiredness rings with the laughter as she walks away.

Tsukasa has kept his eyes closed the entire time.

"Could've been worse, Tsukasa," Akira says.

"Not the point. Leave me alone."

And they do, thankfully.

But then, he hears his mother's annoying voice call his name so he opens his eyes. His request might not even be the reason why his friends let him be. "Yes, okaa-sama?"

"Rukia-san is tired and wants to leave. Why don't you make sure she reaches home safe."

She has a chauffeur somewhere, he has no doubt. And with Byakuya in the same building, the place must be teeming with bodyguards who can accompany her home. These are the things he wants to say, and tries to with a glare. But this woman is Domyouji Kaede. No one can beat her in a glaring contest.

"I came here with Tsubaki."

"That's all right. Tsubaki-san will be with me. Drive carefully, Tsukasa-san."

Sighing, he stands up and grabs his discarded coat from the back of the chair. He sweeps his eyes at his silent friends and walks away without another word towards where Rukia is still speaking with her brother.

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"Are you sure?" Byakuya asks, not for the first time. He's already sent Renji home in the assumption that Rukia will wait for Byakuya and they will go home together. He's aware that it's already late, but he cannot leave while there are still honored guests intent on staying. Some of them he must entertain.

Kaede has been kind enough to have Tsukasa bring Rukia home when she's overheard Rukia request an early leave after pulling Byakuya aside. It's at the tip of his tongue to tell the powerful woman that he prefers Rukia to leave with one of his trusted staff. Instead, he's opted to wait for the boy to throw a small tantrum and refuse, which will save Byakuya the effort and the risk of insulting the woman. Which is why, he's surprised that Tsukasa complied.

"Well, I can bring…" Rukia is cut off by Tsukasa's derisive snort.

"I am not a chauffeur." Tsukasa throws the coat over his right shoulder and crosses his arms. "I will bring her home and no one else. If she's bringing bodyguards, then she can go home by herself."

Rukia whips her head to face Tsukasa with a glare. "That was my plan in the first place."

"Are there any problems?" Kaede has joined their small group and Byakuya has to check once more at how far they are from the closest crowd of guests. Both Tsukasa and Rukia's voices threaten to get louder and it won't do good to have them seen arguing so soon after the engagement. "Please do not worry, Byakuya-dono. Rukia-san is in safe hands with my son."

Tsukasa rolls his eyes and tries to hide it by turning to guide Rukia away. Byakuya has seen it, nonetheless. He will always need to remind himself that this is for Rukia's future. "Inform me when you reach the house."

"I will," Rukia waves a hand, forgetting yet again about protocol, and allows to be led out. Byakuya watches the couple until they've reached the door of the ballroom. As soon as they've stepped out to the hall, Tsukasa's hand drops from Rukia's back and the double doors close, preventing Byakuya to see any further. He is worried, even though his face shows nothing of the sort. There is no Sodeno Shirayuki and Senbonzakura will not leave her post. She is assigned to Byakuya, and him alone. Matsumoto, Madarama and Ayasegawa have all gone ahead with Toushiro and Soifon also which leaves Byakuya no one in immediate vicinity to understand any of his silent signals to tail Rukia.

Byakuya doesn't feel comfortable allowing Rukia off alone, regardless of whether Tsukasa can put up a fight long enough for Rukia to end any encounter in her favor. Unfortunately, she might try and save Tsukasa instead of herself. Time to wrap things up around here, then.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?"

So it seems that the brief incident did have an audience other than Kaede. Byakuya maintains his neutral façade and nods in agreement with the older man. "You seem to speak from experience, Aizen-san."

"Oh, do I?" Aizen laughs lightly and shakes his head, one side of his hair coming loose from its earlier sweep to almost cover his left eye. "Rukia-sama simply reminds me of how Momo-sama is doing. She must be quite the young lady herself by now. It has been a long while since I last saw her, and as I recall she will turn eighteen this year."

"Yes, she will." Byakuya's curt answer and lack of necessary follow up to continue the conversation further draw the line for the current crowd that started to form around them that followed Aizen. As far as the public knows, the Hinamori Elder has taken the heir to recuperate away from prying eyes, her situation being the most traumatic with her entire family's demise in that plane crash. Everyone on that plane ate the same poisoned food that slowly and surely killed the motor functions which eventually brought the plane down with no survivors, and no outside interference to put the blame on. That tragedy of the plane crash due to "engine failure" appealed to the emotions of the people. Not even the elite are immune to bad luck. Out of pity and sympathy, the public did withdraw. Byakuya has taken full advantage of that situation and feels no obligation to change the people's point of view.

Aizen Sousuke's fondness for Momo is well-known. It's actually the Hinamori family's support that secured Aizen a place in the Chamber, winning the election by a landslide compared to all the others who also won that year. His comment, though made in sincere anticipation of an upcoming grand event and a likely reunion, can open a can of worms. A can that Byakuya has kept sealed for as long as possible. The same can that he still has no definite countermeasure to; which continues to weigh on his non-working hours.

"You seem worried, Byakuya-sama." Aizen touches Byakuya's arm, which surprises him. Few have the gall to lay a hand on him, even for a simple tap to bring him back to attention.

Byakuya mentally berates himself for the slack, and recovers in an instant. He tries to stretch his lips for a rare smile, which probably comes off as a grimace to these people, "Pardon my lack of attention. I do worry that Tsukasa-san and my sister might continue the party elsewhere with their friends."

"Come now, Byakuya-sama. You speak as though you're already too old."

"Like a father, is what my dear wife is implying."

"Oh, which brings to mind, have you ever thought of marriage? Rukia-sama is engaged already, young man!"

He is actually glad when they chuckle and others smile knowingly. All of these people are older than him. Most of them are his father's associates, and still think of him as the same boy they've met a long time ago. It's irritating in informal conversation, but he can't deny the advantage of it. He lets them pick up the discussion and shift further away from talk of Hinamori Momo, even if it means they have to pick apart his social life or lack thereof.

This is one of those times when he is relieved that Hisana is already gone. This would've been her life as the first born, and she loathed these social events. She always looked elsewhere and was never really happy about her position. The only reason their parents let her be is because he took up the burden, after her breakdown. But taking her load wasn't enough to bring her back to health.

So much like Rukia and so different.

Byakuya continues to nod and sigh accordingly, though he's not remembered a single thing the others have said. Until somebody mentions something important enough, he will continue to dissect more immediate matters. His mind continues to reflect on the past, scrutinize over the present and worry about the future in a vicious cycle of questions and silent doubts.

If he's paid more attention, he might've noticed that Aizen Sousuke has just returned to their circle and seamlessly entered the conversation as if he's never left.

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It's like watching a commercial. An expensive car will drive by, the valet will open the door for a glamorous couple or an entire family and they will step inside with a murmur of thanks. The attendants will all bow just as the door closes and the car will drive away. Rinse and repeat, with different luxury cars that range from rare vintages he's only seen in movies to the most modern he mostly sees in magazines. Ichigo has seen more car models in one night than his entire life walking along the busiest streets of Karakura City.

It's out of this world.

His world.

"Sir? If you tell us the plate of your car, we can have someone search for it at the parking lot. Your chauffeur might've fallen asleep waiting or one of our valets can bring it to you, if you've driven yourself."

Ichigo notes that this polite woman never once lifted her eyes above his chin when she spoke. Even now. And the longer he stays silent, the lower her eyes seem to travel. Soon, she might actually bow. So he better reply fast, "I don't have a car."

"Oh, I'm truly sorry for assuming, sir. Perhaps you would like to take a seat as you wait for your car to arrive?"

"No." The woman flinches and Ichigo tries consciously to mellow down, and hopes that he isn't scowling, "I don't have a car. I don't own one."

Finally, the attendant lifts her head to stare at him in an open gawk. That's more like it. He's used to people giving him that incredulous stare as if there's something wrong with him. He can almost predict where her eyes will go next.

And yes, there she goes. He's been standing here for who knows how long, and she only notices the hair now?

She turns to look at her workmates, who've no doubt overheard the entire exchange. They're all looking now and likely for the first time since he's arrived. He can tell they want to ask questions or maybe to show him out of the property in as polite a manner as possible, just in case he's connected to the people inside. He did show up with an invitation, and the all important name of the Kuchiki protects him from possible mockery.

A piece of paper manages to do in a single blink what he's done his entire life with his fists: stop people from mocking him. This amount of power and respect from a name some dead man a millennium ago built is a gift and a curse. The more he sees of her world, the more nostalgic he becomes. It hurts a little, if he's willing to admit it. Which he's not.

She belongs here. She can run away, but she's already done that and in the end she's chosen to stay. He's moving mountains for her, and she's…

He takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh, digging his hands further inside his pockets. He blinks in surprise when his hand touches a box, then remembers the gift everyone bought. He pulls it out and flips the lid open where a silver bracelet rests inside. Tatsuki is strangely the sappy sort, and this is her idea. Though, he thinks it's probably because she still feels bad for what she did. The bracelet itself is simple enough and something he can afford, while everyone else bought pendants and trinkets to complete the charm bracelet as a gift from each of them; Tatsuki bought a hand, Inoue a crown, Mizuiro a heart, Keigo a sword, Ishida a rabbit and Chad a baseball. All together, the charm bracelet doesn't quite make sense of what kind of girl Rukia is. There's no one theme around it but it's their past with her, and Ichigo wants to add more to the bracelet as time goes.

"Sir, are you waiting for someone?"

Ichigo turns to the friendly face. They always send this meek woman to talk to him for some reason. He opens his mouth to say yes, and pauses. Why is he even here in the first place? His legs are falling asleep the longer he stands out here in the frigid night and he doesn't really feel like going inside where he feels out of his element.

"No," he says instead. He snaps the box closed and slips it inside his coat pocket. "Thank you," he bows his head slightly before he begins the long walk along the driveway and out into the street. He might as well start making his way home. It's already late and he'll have to climb in his bedroom window again.

He checks his watch and sighs. The busses by now come too far apart from each other. It'll be faster if he just walks, or even Shunpo his way through. He needs to break a sweat anyway. Although attempting Shunpo with the sleek soles of loafer shoes will be a test of balance.

As soon as he's out of the driveway, and well out of sight of anyone from the main doors, he slams a foot down and kicks for the first burst of Shunpo. The last traces of winter chill slams him hard in the face. His coat isn't thick enough to warm him up from that sudden movement, either, and he shivers from the cold. The temperature, his shoes and direction almost trip him and he uses a lamp post to stay upright. Shunpo against wind direction is apparently a bad idea. It's like hitting a solid wall.

He looks left then right, and crosses the street just like any ordinary person would. That first attempt at Shunpo didn't go so well and he's decided to err on the side of caution for tonight. It does strengthen his resolve to never wear this kind of shoes again. Surely he can look formal with shoes that are also comfortable enough for Shunpo. He'll check the bus stop for the schedule. He might still get lucky and get a bus ride closer to home although he really doubts it. There are hardly any cars out this late, even in the commercial area of Karakura.

Ichigo sees a man leaning against a pole by the bus stop, talking over the phone. Looks like a bus is scheduled to arrive soon, after all and Ichigo thanks whatever luck he still has for the night. He walks over to the bench and flops on it lazily. Well, unless that guy's just a bum and is using this shed for the night.

"That's unexpected… huh, perfect even. Yeah, go for it."

Loud screeching snaps Ichigo's head up to face the west stretch of the road, where the noise came from. From the corner of his eye, he can see a red car parked just around the curve where a girl wearing a very familiar dress is stepping out, her head still inside the car. Tension builds from his stomach as the roar of a powerful engine becomes a deafening noise in its approach. It's like watching a train wreck about to happen. He knows it's coming, and he even knows where it's coming from and all he can do is stare across the road, and listen and hope that he's wrong.

He breathes in to yell just as he stands.

And a white jeep is suddenly there.

Time freezes as far as Ichigo knew. He can see everything, from the second that white jeep came out of nowhere to when it swerved and slammed the red sports car like a suicidal maniac on wheels. The force of the blow pushes the red car over the sidewalk hood first, then the jeep pulls back with a screech of protests from the tires. The engine roars once more as the driver floors it forward to slam the back half of the car to the sidewalk also. The defenseless car takes the impact and bounces against the wall like a discarded toy while the white jeep drives away clean.

"RUKIAAA!"

Too slow. He's too slow.

Ichigo is in the middle of the road when the same white jeep touches the edge of his vision from the east side this time and his feet freeze on the spot. The damn fucking thing is just a hair away from Ichigo's skin when it drives past and hits the wrecked car a third time, pushing it further which actually lifts one side of the car up. It might stay vertical and Ichigo holds his breath, not sure what he's praying for; for it to bounce back down or just rest against that wall and hope that it's the safer route. It now looks like it got hit by a semi. "FUCKING…."

The steel bumper of that jeep is like armor where there's only a minor dent compared to the damage it just did on a tiny sports car. It takes a sharp U-turn and stops at the station, in front of that guy on the phone earlier.

Something breaks as things add up. It doesn't need to make sense to Ichigo.

And he's across, up and over the jeep and onto the fucker with blue hair before the rest of his thoughts click together.

Ichigo gets thrown back by a strong elbow across his face and he hits the wall of the waiting shed. The electronic ad cracks and blinks, and stutters its last few attempts to stay up before the light fades out. Half his face is coated in blood from that painful meeting with glass and wires. And he stands up to face the barrel of a gun.

"Yo, kid. Close your eyes and say, there's no place like home," the man says with the heavy accent of someone who doesn't speak Nihonggo naturally.

His hand flies up to grab the wrist, but he seems to be moving too damn slow tonight. There's a gut wrenching pain that erupts from his thigh and his mind only registers that he's been shot when he sees a hole in his black slacks, with blood pouring out of it. The rest of his body begins to pay attention to the pain and he struggles to keep standing. He's been shot before and this one feels different. His thigh feels like it's on fire. Gritting his teeth, he lunges at the man, successfully this time, and manages to yank the gun off. He throws it across the street as hard as possible and he sees it spark, as if another shot was fired but there's no loud bang.

He grins, blood dripping down his one eye which makes seeing a bit difficult. Not that he cares about that at the moment. Without that gun, he can take out this guy and his grin stretches across his face in a sneer. He attacks again but his useless leg makes him even slower. Another pain explodes in his senses when the guy breaks Ichigo's jaw with a solid right hook. Ichigo's vision swivels and doubles from both the hit and the accumulating pain.

He's trained, for crying out loud. He's trained too damn much to lose like this. Why can't he even land a good hit on this fucker?

He needs to calm down. Being angry is making him careless. He tries to get control of his breathing, to focus on the enemy and not on his pain, but the effort is taking its toll on his injury and his body just can't keep up with a lame leg. He falls over when he tries to Shunpo. Damnit.

The guy is swearing an entire litany in a different language Ichigo can't understand. A Foreigner.

"We don't have time for this. Get inside," says a toneless voice from inside the jeep. The driver, who's just tried to kill two people three times. Ichigo tries to see who the bastard is but the tint of that jeep is too dark, and the pale light of the lamp isn't helping. Even this blue-haired foreigner's features aren't clear when the shadows hide that face too damn well.

"Give me your gun!"

"No. Get the fuck inside or I'm going to leave you here."

The guy kicks Ichigo in the chest, but he manages to curl his body so that deadly blow doesn't hit him where he might not recover. When he straightens up again, the jeep is gone. His bones crunch when he tightens his fists and the rest of his body goes numb when he breaks the bench with a single punch.

No. Goddamnit.

No.

He quickly turns and tries to cross the street, ignoring the pain in his leg and the blood that continues to drip and trail after him. He sees the gun close to the tire and he picks it up, his mind blank. He puts it inside his pocket also and staggers to the bent door of the driver's side.

Shit. Shit.

Shit.

The airbag's deflated, and doesn't seem like it managed to actually expand properly. There's blood all over the windshield both from the driver's side and the passenger's side. The first hit must've smashed Domyouji's face in to the passenger side, and the third crash slammed him forward. Domyouji isn't wearing a seatbelt either, which only makes this entire shit so much worse. And he can't see Rukia at all.

He doesn't know what to do.

He tries to open the door and only succeeds to hear the ugliest creak he's ever heard. The metal's so bent it won't budge and pull properly. He peers inside, trying to see through the cracks of the glass and figure out what happened inside and where Rukia is. She's halfway out of the car when he last saw her, but the car's been squished all the way against the wall of the sidewalk and he doesn't want to think further than that.

"Rukia! Can you hear me?"

Damnit.

He punches the window several times until the cracks finally make the glass weak enough to shatter. His body's already stepped into shock and he's moving by adrenaline alone. He can't feel any more pain, and it's helping him pry apart this stupid metal coffin. He has leverage from the inside now and he ignores the glass digging through his palms as he tries to yank the door open.

"Rukia! Goddamn… say something if you're awake in there!" He wipes the blood off his face with the sleeve of his coat so he can see better. His heart is threatening to break out of his chest the longer the silences stretch between his calls. He doesn't know how long he's tried to get a hand on that guy instead of getting to her first.

This can't be happening.

The door doesn't look like it'll budge and Ichigo collapses down on his knees, hands still on the window. Okay. Think, Ichigo. Think.

He needs to get Domyouji out first, before he can get to Rukia. He reaches inside to try and untangle Domyouji's limbs so Ichigo can pull him out through the window. The guy's so damn tall, this is going to be difficult. Ichigo grunts from the effort and he's bumped his head, and Domyouj's head, a few times before he's managed to get the brat's torso out.

In the back of his mind, he can almost hear his father yelling that he shouldn't be moving the injured people. He might make matters worse.

But fuck that.

Ichigo runs a quick check on the physical injuries on Domyouji, and it does look bad. Dislocated shoulder and he can see bones protruding from the elbow. So, he needs to be careful with that elbow. Anything else that's broken, he can't tell from this stiff angle and all that blood. It'll be easier if he can just pull this dead weight out and lay him down on the ground. Maybe. Why didn't first aid include something like this?

Trying to pull the rest of Domyouji's body out is proving to be more difficult than theory. Domyouji is damn heavy, and Ichigo's injured leg is shaking from the strain. At least Domyouji's unconscious, Ichigo silently counts little blessings. At this rate, he needs to find every good little thing to stay focused. If he stops… if he stands still too long and gives up…

No.

Ichigo shakes his head vigorously, and regrets it when his world takes another dive along with his vision graying on the sides. Stay up! He needs to stay awake.

With a loud yell, more to keep himself awake than anything else, he pulls Domyouji out of the window and hopes he doesn't break anymore bones in the process. He collapses on the ground with a groan, Domyouji's body right on top of him. He grunts in pain and pushes the weight off him so he can slide out and get back to work. The sound of a head hitting pavement makes Ichigo wince, and he mutters a quick apology to the unconscious man. He takes another look at that body to see if there are any obvious broken limbs other than the nasty bone coming out of that elbow, and the dislocated shoulder. He sees the chest lift up, then down slowly which is enough for Ichigo to keep the guilt at bay. Domyouji is alive, so now he can focus on Rukia.

One down.

Ichigo takes another deep breath as he looks at the wreck. The smell of blood is starting to make him hazy. He picks up a broken glass when he makes his way back to that window and stabs his already injured leg with it. The bullet wound burns his insides when he's shoved a glass in it, making him scream in pain. It does wake him up, at least. He throws the glass away before he crawls inside the small window.

Rukia's body is half out, half in. Her legs are wedged between the door and the rest of the car. That measly door actually saved her from being skewered against the wall by an entire car. The open door softened or slowed down the car somewhat when it was pushed back.

"Rukia! Rukia…" he tries to shake her, but doesn't really expect her to wake up anytime soon. He reaches for her neck and feels his heart clench painfully when he doesn't find the pulse. Again, he tries to calm down and closes his eyes, his fingers searching for that weak pulse. It has to be there.

He's more careful with her when he rearranges her strewn limbs. She's easier to move around because of her small stature, and once again he's very glad of that height problem. His lips twitch but her bloody face is like a slap of a reminder. His fingers hover above the embedded glass shards on her face, not knowing where to start or if he should pull the pieces out in the first place. There's a nasty bruise on her cheek where she must've been hit by the handbreak on first impact. He can't even touch her anywhere without worrying that even unconscious, he's hurting her.

Her arms seem to be fine, but her legs are a much bigger issue. He shifts to a more comfortable position inside and reaches beyond her body, to try and free her legs. He swallows when he finally sees the extent of the damage. The sharp edge of the door sawed through her skin and flesh, and he hates to be right if that white…thing…is bone. His breath quickens and he closes his eyes once more, to try and settle his jumping nerves and find his center. He can't move her like this. He can't move her at all.

His shaking hands reach for the door, to still try and push it outwards to loosen up on the pressure on her legs. The angle of the car puts too much weight on those legs, and one will break soon, her legs or that door. He licks his dry lips and tastes blood instead.

The theme song for the Don Kanonji show blares out in the night, making Ichigo literally jump. He hits his head on the low ceiling and curses while he pats down his body several times until he finally finds his phone.

He has a phone! God damn…

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS? I sleep and then wake up and you're still not here! What the hell, Ichigo? If you are running away with a girl, at least leave a note!"

Ichigo cringes, but he can't deny the speck of hope that begins to bloom. "Dad."

His father doesn't answer immediately.

"What's wrong, Ichigo?"

"I… there's… " Ichigo looks down at the unconscious Rukia, "… there's been a car accident."

=====[][][][][]=====

"Fuck," Grimmjow flexes his fingers and puts his hand back in the bucket of ice. "Did they even test that protoshit gun they gave us? It's silent, and no recoil is awesome, sure but shit, man, that almost burned my hand!"

"It's a prototype." Ulquiorra scrutinizes the gun he has in his hand, which is similar to the one Grimmjow has but smaller. "I haven't fired it, either."

"Well, it felt like a bomb going off my hand." Grimmjow grits his teeth and takes his hand out again to press on the forming blisters. He shows his palm to Ulquiorra, "Do you see that? What the hell did they put to replace the magazine? They should change the grip, for fuck's sake. Something that doesn't heat up."

Ulquiorra ignores Grimmjow's rants and locks the gun just to be sure. "You left your gun."

"And whose fault is that, I wonder. We also left a witness, if you've forgotten."

"He wasn't important. No one will believe a kid."

"That's what you think. Kid screamed out 'Rukia'." Grimmjow stands up and picks up his bucket of ice. He throws the contents outside the open window and heads over to the kitchen to get more.

A frown mars Ulquiorra's normally impassive face. Perhaps he should've paid more attention to that kid, then. He did manage to disarm Grimmjow, even if the larger factor is on the gun backfiring. "You should've asked his name," Ulquiorra finally says.

"You are a social retard," Grimmjow hollers from the kitchen area.

=====[][][][][]=====

Uryuu is rudely awakened with a kick to his bed. He sits up and squints at the blurry image of a white person in front of him. Who the hell… oh, whatever. His hand reaches to the bedside table to grab his glasses and, unsurprisingly, his tyrant of a father is dressed to go and in his white coat at such an ungodly hour.

His father really needs a hobby. "What?"

"Get dressed. We're going to the hospital. You will assist me in preparing for an emergency surgery."

And then he just leaves without further adieu.

"The hospital has night staff!"

Despite his loud protests, he does quick work at picking out his clothes and cleaning up in the bathroom. His father predictably doesn't bother with a reply. Why he puts up with this shit is beyond him.

He just needs to finish high school, he tells himself. It's a mantra every time Ryuuken pulls the I Am Your Father And I Know Better card on him. When he's done with high school, and he's a legal adult, he can go on his own and survive. It's easy to find work with his skills. And he's sure he can learn any type of work.

And besides, he already has one particular job in mind.

"Hurry up, Uryuu!"

Uryuu sighs and grabs his overnight bag on his way out of the bedroom. He always has one prepared for times like this when Ryuuken feels the need to torture him by working the night shift. He can hear doors slamming shut in the wake of Ryuuken's meticulous locking of every door before they leave the house.

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To be continued...