Aphelion

by DeathMeetsLife

Years after her separation from Ichigo and their son, Rukia continues to balance maintaining the greatest lie of her life while leading the Thirteenth Division with wrangling a precocious four-year old hellbent on giving her more than a few gray hairs. However, when a new threat to her and her daughter appears that tenuous peace is thrown into question. -Part III-

A/N: Aphelion is the third in the series with another day, another destiny and Night West. More notes at the end. Thank you, please enjoy!

---

"Mama, look! Look what Yumi-chan helped me make!"

Rukia handed her – now revised, signed, and dated – papers to Sentaro with a nod before twisting quickly to pull her daughter into her lap, fingers already searching out the ticklish weak points. Ichika squirmed, and giggles colored her protests. "What do you have there?"

She was more than accustomed to receiving whatever arts and crafts gifts Ichika showered her with following a day at the Eleventh. She had a special cabinet dedicated to that at the Estate: everything from tie-dyed headbands – "Red, from the blood of our enemies, Mama!" – to intricately knotted baskets decorated the shelves behind the glass panels.

"Tada!" The little girl presented her gifts with a flourish, and Rukia had to pluck the multi-colored cord from her fingers and pull it taut to really understand what she was looking at. Indigo and ivory strands wove delicately together, lines and geometric designs broken only by tiny suns and a full moon cycle interspersed throughout. Rukia hugged her daughter closer, and she could feel her hum in appreciation for the anticipated praise.

"Ichika, this is amazing! Did you make this all by yourself?" Yumichika had been teaching Ichika how to make friendship bracelets the last few times she had stayed with him, but the cord was much more advanced.

"I did! Well, mostly. Yumi-chan showed me how to do it and helped me make sure it was perfect. But I did everything else!"

"Can you tell me about the design? Did you come up with it?"

Ichika nodded so enthusiastically, Rukia thought her head might pop off her tiny shoulders. "Yup! Yumi-chan said I should do something that reminded me of you, so I thought about how much you love bunnies, and how there's a bunny on the moon who makes mochi, but I already made you a bunny bracelet –" She had, Rukia was wearing it on her left wrist, "—so I made you a moon cord instead!"

"What about these?" Rukia prompted, fingering the weave that made up one of the suns. "Why did you add a sun?"

Her daughter leveled her with the most condescending look a four-year-old could muster. Rukia felt more amused than chastened. "Mama. You gotta have both. They go together."

Rukia schooled her expression to match Ichika's. "Is that so?"

"Of course," the girl nodded. Well, Rukia thought when her daughter didn't elaborate, that was that.

"I love it, sweetie," Rukia crooned, "but if I put it in my hair, I'll never get to see it! Can I put it in yours? It will be so pretty with your eyes."

Ichika seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding, wild red hair flying everywhere. Rukia gathered the mess at the top of her head and deftly whipped the cord around to tie it in place. She finished it off with a bow and darted in to press a kiss to her cheek. "An amazing bow for an amazing girl!"

"Ewwwww, Mama," Ichika squirmed again, but Rukia held fast. Looking down at the crown of her head, Rukia spied ginger roots poking through. She'd take care of that tonight.

"Ready to go home and show everyone your beautiful new hairstyle?"

"Yay!"

Rukia picked her up to set her on the floor, and the pair of them walked hand-in-hand past her division subordinates, all of whom made sure to wish a good evening to both mother and child. Ichika responded to all of them by name; she'd grown up here, and they were her much-extended family.

As soon as they stepped into the courtyard, Rukia felt an excited tug on her hand.

"Mama, let's race! I know I'm faster than yesterday!"

"How can that be? I could barely keep up with you then!" the shinigami feigned, but the girl just grinned and dangled from her arm.

"Mamaaaa!"

"Okay. On the count of three!" Ichika just giggled and took off immediately, her clumsy shunpo a fraction smoother than the day before. "You little cheat," Rukia muttered and raced to catch up with her hellion.

They skidded for a stop in the Kuchiki gardens, startling a groundskeeper enough that he nearly fell into a koi pond. Rukia quickly reached out and set him to rights, receiving a bow and murmured thanks before he scurried off – but he wasn't the only one.

"Now, where did she go…? Excuse me, Honda-san?" She called out to a passing servant, who quickened to her side. "Did you happen to see which direction Ichika ran off to?"

"Yes, madam, toward the formal reception room. But you should know, Kuchiki-sama is holding a meeting there at this time."

"Thank you, I'll try and keep her from interrupting." She trotted off after her daughter, shaking her head at her mischief. She's sure Renji would say she got it from her, but she refused to take full responsibility for it – at least half of that she blamed on her babysitters at the Eleventh. Not for the first time, she wondered just what Renji was thinking when he enlisted their nanny services.

She turned the corner toward the formal reception room and spied her tiny troublemaker, snooping on her uncle and his guest through the cracked door. Carefully, she tip-toed closer herself, ready and poised to snatch her up before she could make herself known.

A booming laugh startled her approach, and she felt warmth bloom over her face even as a cold pit seemed to drop into her stomach. What was he doing here? Was this a social visit, or was something wrong in Karakura? Ichika giggled at something, and Rukia decided that it was better to sort out the reason for Isshin's visit after she wrangled her. She swooped in to scoop up her wriggling child, and, when she glanced into the room herself, she met her would-be father-in-law's gaze. She nodded a small bow, and he gave a wistful smile in return; anything else, and Rukia was sure that she would be tempted to rush in and cause a scene. Whining Ichika secured on her hip, Rukia marched herself determinedly away from the room and toward the residential wing of the estate.

"Mamaaaa, where are we going?"

"It's bath-time for you, miss missy! You know we have to get cleaned up before dinner." Ichika continued to whine until they reached the bathroom, the tub already full and steaming. Rukia sent a mental thanks to Honda for thinking ahead and quickly set to the task of stripping her daughter of her filthy clothes and depositing her into the water. Ichika squealed at first, but she quickly dunked herself in the hot water and splashed around.

Rukia pushed back her sleeves as best she could and grabbed a bar of soap and a cloth. She gestured to Ichika, who dutifully stretched her arms, then legs to her mother to clean them.

"Mama?"

"Yes, Ichika?"

"Who was that weird man here earlier?"

"He was one of the Shibas. They're another noble house, like the Kuchiki." She draped the cloth over the side of the bath and reached over to Ichika's shampoo bottle next.

"He didn't act like the old aunties here. He was funny." Ichika sunk lower in the tub, until her lips barely hovered over the water. "I liked him."

"He is a bit funny, isn't he?" Rukia lathered her daughter's shampoo in her hands, the red dye coloring the bubbles pink. "Up, up," she instructed, and Ichika sat tall in the bath once more. "Did you talk to him?"

"No," Ichika sighed. "I was spying."

"Aren't you a stealthy girl? Maybe Soi Fon could use your help sometime. She's always looking for promising recruits. She can take you off my hands." Rukia interrupted her shampooing to dart a poke to her little girl's nose, drawing a giggle and a splash from her captive.

"I don't think I'm very good – Shiba-san saw me. He did this with his face!" Ichika mimicked the cross-eyed, tongue-out, splayed-hands expression as best she could. Rukia snorted into soapy hands; if her daughter looked that ridiculous, she could only imagine Isshin's dumb rubber face looking even more so. "Are all the Shibas that funny?"

"Well, one of them rides a giant hog around everywhere," Rukia lifted a clean cup of water, and Ichika obediently squeezed her eyes shut. "Her name is Bonnie." She poured.

Ichika laughed through the torrent of water. "He does not!"

"He does, I promise!" Rukia quickly scooped up more rinse water and dumped it over Ichika's hair. "And his sister has a big cannon that can shoot people out of it!"

"You're making this up!" Ichika continued to giggle, and Rukia went ahead a massaged conditioner into her hair.

"Nope, you can ask anyone. They'll tell you the same." Rukia dropped a quick kiss onto her daughter's forehead.

"Mamaaa!"

"What, you suddenly don't like my kisses anymore?"

"Ikkaku-chan told me about something called cooties."

"Ikkaku-chan is a big ol' liar. Moms don't have cooties, so I can give you as many kisses as I want!" She darted in and laid several on her soft cheeks for emphasis. Ichika scrunched up her face.

A knock at the door drew their attention, and Ichika squealed in delight. "Pops! You're back!"

Renji, lounged against the doorframe like he was holding the wall up, grinned at the little girl. "Hey there, munchkin. You all squeaky-clean, now?"

"Almost! Mama, rinse it!"

Rukia arched a stern eyebrow. "Rinse it?"

"Rinse it, please."

"There you go."

Rukia finished up and snatched up a towel just in time for the soaking girl to jump out of the tub. "Woah there. Dry first, then attack Pops."

Ichika grumbled as the towel was rubbed all over her freshly-red locks, leaving a tousled mess behind to wrap around her body. As soon as her mom had finished securing the fabric, Ichika launched herself into Renji's waiting arms.

"Oof! Have you grown while I was gone?"

"Popsss!" Ichika whined as he swung her up onto his hip. "You've only been gone a few days!"

"Well, it felt like forever. Maybe your uncle will stop sending me on these long missions someday, but I guess your Pops is just too valuable." He blew a raspberry into her cheek. "What'd you get up to today?"

As her daughter regaled Renji with Eleventh Division antics, Rukia turned to the corked jug by the basin and poured a small pool into her hand. The sharp sting of alcohol made her eyes water, but she rubbed it over her fingers, perfunctorily removing any lingering dye. She rinsed quickly and treated herself to the thick handcream she kept around specifically for this routine.

"Rukia?"

"Hm?"

"I'm going to go ahead and get Ichika dressed for dinner. Meet you there?"

Rukia nodded with a smile, and the two redheads disappeared down the hall. She watched the empty doorway for a moment before shaking her head and draining the bathwater. She splashed her face with some fresh water and made her way to the dining room – she knew that the allure of her bed would be too strong if she actually went and tidied up herself. She hoped tonight would be an informal affair, though she wouldn't put it past the elders to randomly drop in to glare disapprovingly at Renji and hassle Ichika over her etiquette.

They had done so often enough.

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the sliding doors revealed only her brother seated at the head of the table. "Evening, Nii-sama."

He returned her greeting with a nod and set aside the papers he had been perusing. "Rukia. I trust you've been well."

Rukia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Since I saw you this morning? Yes," she allowed herself a private smile. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful."

"Isshin-san dropped in."

"Uneventful, aside from that," Byakuya amended. "I was unable to make my trip due to Renji being away, so he visited to apprise me of any goings-on in the Living World."

"Are they—" her words died as the door slid open for Ichika and Renji.

Byakuya sent her a look at clearly meant later and accepted his niece's hug in greeting. With all attendees present and accounted for, servants arrived and served the first course, a warm miso broth.

Inexhaustible, Ichika repeated her adventures to her uncle, who listened intently with an expression that told Rukia that he was once again regretting allowing the Eleventh in her daycare rotation.

"—And then Ken-chan—"

"Captain Kenpachi," Byakuya gently corrected.

"—let me practice climbing!"

"And what were you climbing?" the nobleman prompted, tone indicating that he already knew that he decidedly would not like the answer.

Ichika gave him a look, as if he were missing the obvious. "The division, of course!"

"Of course." Byakuya had that look in his eye again, and Rukia knew he would be delivering another fruitless lecture to Kenpachi in the morning.

Her daughter hummed and slurped some soup from her spoon. Apropos of nothing, in the manner of children worlds over, she asked, "Mama? Why don't you and Pops sleep in the same bed?"

Rukia was glad her spoon had only been halfway to her lips, or she was sure she would have choked on it. "Excuse me?"

"When I was playing at Reina-chan's house yesterday I saw that Reina-chan's parents only have one room. But you and Pops have two."

"It's improper etiquette for a noble married couple to share quarters," Byakuya explained, and Rukia sent out a silent thanks to her brother. He sipped from his tea.

"Besides," Rukia expounded, seeing from her daughter's scrunched face that she didn't like the answer, "Reina-chan's house is much smaller than the Kuchiki estate. We have to fill up rooms somehow, and your Pops is an awful snorer!"

"I guess that makes sense," the little girl considered. "Then why does Pops sleep in Byakuya-jii-sama's room, sometimes?"

This time, Rukia wasn't the only one who choked on her soup. Both men coughed into their hands, although Byakuya recovered himself faster; Renji was fighting a losing battle against his flush turning his face the same crimson as his hair. Rukia struggled to keep her face straight as they attempted to regain their composure. They shot desperate glances at one another, but Ichika waited patiently, her eyes shining in innocent curiosity.

"You see, Ichika-chan," Renji managed, "sometimes Pops has division work to finish up with your uncle, and sometimes it gets too late, and we fall asleep!"

"Yes," Byakuya agrees slowly when the girl's scrutinizing gaze turns to him. "Work. That's all."

"Ok." She sips her soup, and all three adults waited with bated breath. "When do those pretty birds come back to the garden? I miss them."

The collective sighs of relief at a crisis averted seemed to summon the attendants, and dinner continued on with the arrival of the second course. Rukia knew she wasn't hiding her amusement well, but it was the men's faults for getting caught by a four-year-old in the first place. Undoubtably, the staff knew as well; as anyone with common sense knew, servants carried all the secrets of their employers, whether the subjects knew it or not. Although the topic of conversation had shifted to bird migratory patterns, her brother and her husband-not-husband fidgeted in their seats, at the mercy of the tiny redheaded terror.

She half-covered her snort of laughter and earned a scathing look from Byakuya and an incredulous, non-verbal plea from Renji to cut it out, damn it! She merely smiled in return and sipped her tea.

---

"Please, don't."

Ah, it was one of those dreams, again.

Rukia turned away and continued her business. "We've talked about this. No matter how many times, it'll still be the same result. We can't raise them together." The put-together façade was just that; she had reread the same sentence four times, but the content escaped her. Nevertheless, she flipped to the next page.

"Please don't make me leave you." His arms slid around her shoulders, anchoring him to her and vice versa. She felt his forehead press against her crown – too frustratingly close to an affectionate nuzzle, but it was poisoned by grief and weighted with circumstance. "We can be better, quieter. We can do better."

"Ichigo—"

"Just think about it." She had. She had thought about it forward, backward, and sideways; she had thought about it until she was sick with anger and grief. This wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation, and it wouldn't be the last.

"All right." A lie. He knew it was, too – she could tell by the way he shuddered silently against her back. He hugged her to him tightly – one second, two – before relaxing the hold, draping himself over her like a favorite blanket. He knew she was lying, but he still took comfort in it, no different from any other desperate man.

A kiss dropped upon her hair. "Thank you."

Don't thank me. From behind, he couldn't see the silent tears that burned down her face.

---

Ichika barreled into the dining room for breakfast, an exclamation on her lips, and, with a glance, immediately knew: today was a Quiet Day. She swallowed her shout and took a moment to center herself – just like Bya-jii-sama taught her – before approaching the table and eying the spread.

Her mother sat against the open door, facing out toward the garden. She hadn't changed into her shinigami uniform, yet, despite the late hour, her arm bare of her lieutenant's badge; her sleeping yukata was wrinkled and her hair tousled from a night of tossing and turning. She stared away to where the hydrangeas bobbed softly in the late-summer breeze, to and fro.

Yeah, Ichika thought. Quiet Day. From the table, she picked up a bowl of soup and a spoon and padded oh-so gently over to her mother. "Mama," she called softly, "o-zōni."

Her mother blinked at her a few times, unseeing, before her gaze cleared and she smiled. "Thank you." She took the breakfast offering.

Ichika turned and got a bowl for herself, and the two ate in silence, watching the wind play through the garden.

---

Rukia rolled her sore shoulders. She had to raise one troublemaker at home, so she really couldn't understand why she had to continue the same at work. For all of her subordinates. Yet, there she was, marching down the corridors of a division not her own, like a mother called to discipline her misbehaving children. Her third seat trailed behind her, huffing in indignation.

"So," she announced herself as she entered the Tenth Division's Captain's office, "these are the delinquents, then?" Sentaro looked reproachfully at the troublemakers over her shoulder, and they shrunk further into the office couch under both their Vice Captain's and Third Seat's glares. She jerked a thumb at them, and they scrambled to stand at attention.

Captain Hitsugaya shuffled the paperwork in his hands into a proper stack, which he pushed to the side. "It seems as though they had prior altercations in the Academy with a few rookies of my own. I am putting my lot on janitorial duty for the next twenty shifts – I trust that you'll have an equally unpleasant task for yours."

"I am torn between the barrack laundry and scrubbing the training grounds with toothbrushes; either way, they won't forget their lesson anytime soon." She shook her head at the new recruits, still roughed up and dirty from their skirmish with their Tenth Division counterparts. "I am very disappointed in all of you." Sometimes she swore her members were worse than her actual child.

The three wilted further at her words, and one of the young men struggled against his tears. "Vice Captain, we are so very sorry!"

"Have you apologized to Captain Hitsugaya, yet? No? Do so, then Sentaro will take you back to the Thirteenth. Wait for me in the dojo."

"Yes, Vice Captain Kuchiki!" As a unit, they bowed to Rukia, then Hitsugaya. "We are sorry for the disturbance, Captain Hitsugaya! It won't happen again!"

Hitsugaya waved them off from behind his desk, stern as ever. Sentaro marched them down the hallway, back to their own division and punishment, already scolding them for wasting their Vice Captain's time. Rukia looked after them with a sigh before falling ungracefully onto the now vacant couch.

"Oh, this is comfortable. Is it new?"

"Every time she wears one out, Matsumoto has a replacement within a day. It wouldn't do for her to wake up from her afternoon naps with a crick in her neck, now would it?" The young captain groused from his seat. He leaned back in his chair enough to pull open a drawer in his desk. "I have a delivery for you."

Rukia blinked in surprise and straightened. "Really?"

"Yes," he placed a paper bag on his desktop, "Karin and Yuzu had put aside a few things for you that they knew you would like – some stationary, skin care products, and such – and a few things I had to promise to hold onto once I showed you. Luckily, this debacle brought you to me, so I won't need to track you down."

She was on her feet at once, about to search through the bag for what she hoped was in there, when she noticed the envelope held between Hitsugaya's fingers. He gestured it toward her.

"These do not leave this room."

Rukia delicately extracted the envelope from his grasp and broke the seal. Carefully, she shook the contents onto the desk and sunk into the closest chair. Photographs littered the surface in front of her, a small, bright-haired boy in his kindergarten smock; attempting to eat a watermelon slice that seemed to dwarf him; grass-stained in cleats and a soccer uniform with a grin. "Karin's got him playing already then?"

"Yeah," Hitsugaya sorted out several more soccer photos from the pile, "but at that age, it's more herding cats than anything else. But you know Karin, she'll whip their little team into shape soon enough."

"Have you been to a game?"

"If you can call it that," he gave a small laugh. At Rukia's knowing look, he tried – and failed – to fight down a blush. "Karin has me hand out popsicles afterwards."

She smoothed her thumb over another photo of her son, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looked at his grin. "And he's making friends?"

"He doesn't seem to have any trouble with that."

"Good, good." She took the time to memorize each photograph, tracing the shape of Kazui's face. One in particular – taken from behind, of her son sitting high on what must be his father's shoulders – she wanted to keep with her, but she knew she could only carry it from this office in her heart.

One by one, she tucked each picture back into the envelope and pushed it toward Hitsugaya, who waited patiently with hands folded. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," he dismissed, and, after a glance her way, whispered an incantation. Rukia closed her eyes to keep from watching the photographs turn to ash in his hands. "It allows Karin to feel like she's doing something to help." He paused. "Me, too."

"It's enough having your support. But you know," Rukia met his eyes gravely. "You should be careful. We're more than a cautionary tale – this could easily be your reality, too."

He frowned. "The new Central 48 are quite eager, aren't they?"

"They circle me like sharks in the water." The words burned like acid on her tongue. "I'm not a safe alliance at the moment, Hitsugaya. They could just as easily turn their sights to you."

"Let them try." He stood, and Rukia's Kuchiki manners prompted her to do the same. "You're not without friends. Any of you."

She swallowed another thanks, but she reached forward to clasp his hand briefly in gratitude before collecting the paper bag, making her exit. Rukia paused in the doorway, her fingers clutching the frame hard enough to turn her knuckles white under already porcelain skin. "Are they happy?"

The young captain shrugged, the gesture at once ambivalent and exhausted. "Kazui doesn't know anything else."

"And Ichigo?"

"He does."

Rukia left the Tenth feeling, as always, a paradoxical sense of joy and shame. She treasured any update she could get from the Living World, any glimpse into Kazui's and Ichigo's life she could grasp, if only for a moment. The longing piercing her heart never deterred her from wanting to know her son, but it kept her awake at night, wondering if he slept well, how he woke in the morning, how it felt to hold him in her arms.

She had known for years that Orihime had stepped into that role for her son, and, while she appreciated that he grew knowing a mother's love, she couldn't help but feel bitterly jealous that her old friend could soothe his tears and comb through his bedhead.

She hated herself for feeling that way.

Rukia entered the Kuchiki Manor, intending on perhaps taking tea with her brother before heading back to the Thirteenth for a long night. The troublemakers awaiting their punishment could wait a little longer – she didn't mind making them sweat. She dropped off the small care package Hitsugaya had passed to her in her room before setting out in search of the family head.

As she strolled down the hall, the door to the receiving room slid open, and a tall, older woman, dressed well but modestly, exited. She bowed to Byakuya, who appeared behind her, before turning to leave, paying Rukia a respectful nod as she passed. Rukia returned it politely and watched a servant join the woman and escort her outside.

"Who was that, Nii-sama?"

Byakuya waved her inside and indicated to a servant to bring a fresh tea set. "A respected councilor from the Twenty-Third District. Her community holds her in high regard, and she had been very vocal against the traditionalist values of the Central 48, which has been stunting the economic growth of her district."

Rukia raised a curious eyebrow. "You seem to be meeting with many community leaders, lately. I didn't realize you were so involved in the goings-on of the Rukongai."

"Change comes from ways other than the tip of a blade, Rukia. Shifting the paradigm requires more thorough groundwork. Subtle efforts build momentum, regardless of the goal. The Captain Commander seems to realize this, as well; I have heard that he is even planning a diplomatic mission to Las Noches to build an allyship there." The servant returned with the tea set and arranged it before them. Rukia took a seat and poured cups for both herself and her brother. "How goes your Division?"

"I'll be working late, unfortunately. I have a load of reports to sort through and manage, and I expect I won't be back until well past midnight." She blew on her tea. "There was a tussle between some newer members of the Thirteenth and the Tenth today, but it gave me the opportunity to speak with Captain Hitsugaya, who passed on some updates from Kurosaki Karin."

"I see. You've been quite busy. Be sure to find some time for yourself for jinzen."

"Yes, Nii-sama."

"You know," he started with a contemplative tone, "there is a theory I've come across in the histories, Rukia, that zanpakuto are not just the other half of your soul; they are the part of the soul that has reincarnated with you, as you are born anew. Their wisdom is just that – it is derived from experience, not any connection to the cosmos or such. I have learned much from Senbonzakura though my tie with him. Should Sode no Shirayuki guide you, listen to her carefully."

She lifted the cup to her lips with a hum. The tea sloshed against the sides of the ceramic, and she realized her hands were trembling. She set it back on the tray and placed her face in her hands instead.

Byakuya eyed her knowingly. "I take it everyone is well. They seemed so at my last visit."

"Yes. Kazui is playing sports now."

"That should help him with his coordination and gross motor skills."

"Yes."

She let the silence stretch into place around them, uneasy and tense.

"I had believed that you enjoyed learning about what is happening in Karakura."

"I do!" she protested, almost too abruptly. She sighed and rubbed a hand across her brow. "I do, but every time it sinks heavily in my stomach. And it's not even just hearing about Kazui, but… sometimes with Ichika, she does something or says something and I think 'oh, just like your father,' and I –" Rukia swallows harshly against the choking sensation that had quickly climbed her throat, the words clawing their way past her tongue and teeth, themselves biting, fighting their way out. "Every time I look at her and see him, I'm reminded that I am living a life of cowardice."

Byakuya let the venom in her tone dissipate into the air and took a cleansing sip of his tea. "I see you leading your life with conviction," he softly declared. "Your sacrifice is keeping your son and lover safe. Your silence protects your daughter and yourself. Do not mistake your actions for cowardice, Rukia – they are acts of love, to live everyday with prolonged heartbreak. How could you call that anything but courageous?"

"I'm so tired, Nii-sama," her voice cracked with exhaustion and grief. She felt a hot tear slip its way down her cheek. He reached over the tea tray to brush it away before it fell.

"I know."

"I feel so lonely."

There was a long moment of silence before he replied again, much more quietly, "I know."

They comforted each other over their respective losses, quiet understanding stretching between them. Once their tea was finished, Byakuya pressed a rare kiss to the top of his sister's head and moved to his private office on the estate. Rukia stayed a moment more, listening to birdsong and hollow echo of the shishi-odoshi though the shoji.

She settled a hesitant but gentled hand on her zanpakuto's sheath. She knew that she had neglected her time with Sode no Shirayuki lately, but, between her duties at the division and wrangling her daughter at home, a bone-weary exhaustion had seeped into her core, leaving her little desire to then have to combat the severe conditions of her Inner World. The zanpakuto had been silent for some time also, no emotions or impressions conveyed to her wielder as she seemed to exercise a cold shoulder of her own in return.

She knew her brother spoke sensibly and that she could find solace and wisdom through her relationship with the yuki-onna, but she slipped her touch from the sword on her hip. Silently, she slid the shoji to the garden open and stepped into a shunpo, retreating to the sanctuary of her own division offices. Whatever burning questions Sode no Shirayuki wanted to ask her could wait until she had the strength and fortitude to face not only the zanpakuto, but herself.

It would have to be a conversation for another time.

---

"Kuchiki Rukia?"

Rukia rolled her eyes. She knew that tone, and she mentally counted off the days since the last time she had to deal with these braindead lackeys. She set down the bolt of cloth she had been examining and smiled at the fabric vendor before moving to the next stall. Measured footsteps behind her told her that the man had followed.

"I am Vice Captain Kuchiki."

"My name is Kurihara Nori. I am under the instruction and authority of the Honorable Judge Miyagawa-sama to ask you a number of questions." A glance revealed a mousey looking man with dark eyes in a sallow face. She flicked her gaze forward once more, easily navigating the market.

"You are free to question away, Kurihara-san, and I am free to ignore you entirely while I finish my shopping."

"As an agent of Central 48, I am due a certain level of consideration—"

"I owe you nothing other than tolerance of your presence, just as I have told your previous four colleagues. Two please, cold water press," she asked the paper vendor, who wrapped two parcels of the drawing material quickly.

"To the Kuchiki Estate?"

"Care of Kuchiki Rukia, thank you."

The man nodded and set the purchases aside for later delivery. Rukia continued on, as did Kurihara, who made a fuss of ducking between other shoppers and generally being, in Rukia's opinion, a nuisance.

"I am simply here to inquire after any recent interaction you have had with the Living World and the man known as Kurosaki Ichigo, the ryoka."

"Well, I am happy to say that my answer is as simple as your inquiry: none." As they passed by a footwear stall, Rukia stepped in. Ichika was quickly wearing her own down, and Rukia had the sneaking suspicion that she would soon outgrow her backup shoes, as well. The man slipped in behind her.

"We both know that's not true, don't we?"

"Well, I know that I haven't left Soul Society for several years, as being a young mother and de facto captain of my division certainly consumes most of my time. I don't know about Kurosaki Ichigo – the district of Karakura is no longer under the protection of the Thirteenth Division. Perhaps you could better address your grievances with my brother, whose division does overlook the town and its surrounding regions." She purchased two new sandals and, like the paper, had them shipped to the estate.

"Isn't it interesting that Kurosaki Ichigo's last visit to Soul Society coincided with when you were in a public relationship with him?"

"I don't think it's interesting at all. We abided by the orders of Central 48 and dissolved that relationship. I think it's quite normal to avoid a former partner."

"And you were later with child."

"With my husband, yes. That is how the linear progression of time presents itself, isn't it?" Rukia could hear his grumbling. His predecessors had all thrown similar accusations at her and Renji before, but they were well prepared for any of their inquiries.

"Agents of Central 48 have witnessed you or your subordinates purchasing red hair dye at this very market."

Rukia raised a delicate eyebrow. That one was not unexpected. "My husband is too embarrassed to buy it himself. He's a devoted father, but the stress of being a vice captain and so very attentive to our energetic daughter has caused quite a few gray hairs. I'm sure you can understand." Cue demeaning smile.

"Surely." The man's flinty-eyed stare examined her for any crack, any source of weakness. Rukia met his gaze with her own, experience and the air of nobility lending credence to her tone.

"Surely."

"Some might consider a number of events to be highly suspect."

"Some might consider your conjecture to be nothing more than an opportunistic subordinate grasping at straws, struggling to find a semblance of relevancy in your superior's eyes." She turned on her heel and began to make her way back toward the house. "I pity you; I truly do."

"Kuchiki Rukia-!"

"Vice Captain Kuchiki. I am the senior-most officer of the Thirteenth Division, and I have well-earned my title and reputation. You will respect my office and address me appropriately, Kurihara-san. Goodbye."

Her spluttered in indignation. "I am not finished speaking with you, Vice Captain!"

Rukia paused at the gates to the Kuchiki grounds. "Well, I am not inviting you inside. Feel free to address your inquiries to our garden wall. Goodbye, Kurihara-san."

She left the man fuming at the gates as he spit venom at the house guards, all of whom cheerfully denied him entry. She made a mental note to mention his name to Renji and her brother. Although not obviously involved, these agents seemed quite happy to ambush them in the past. A vague reminder to other clan members to keep family business in the family may very well be in order as well.

---

"Strike! High block! Low block! And move!" Rukia felt her voice beginning to go hoarse as she led the division recruits through their katas. "Again!"

The sun beat heavily upon them, but the shinigami dutifully moved through the forms as one. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched amusedly as Ichika tried to follow suit, a tiny, children's sized shinai in her hands. Rukia barely spared a thought to the bamboo sword's origin, quickly attributing it to the babysitters of the Eleventh Division.

"All right, take a break, everyone, then return to your duties. If you don't already have your assignments, report to a seated officer who will find something for you. Dismissed!"

"Thank you, Vice Captain!" The group called as one with a bow before mingling at ease, moving to get water or find some cool shade away from the growing heat.

Sentaro stepped forward with some paperwork, but she halted him with a hand for a moment. "Ichika-chan, I didn't know you had passed the Academy! You must be the youngest graduate yet!"

Ichika ran up to her mother, launching herself into her arms. "One day, I will! I'm going to learn lots and get strong and be a shinigami!"

"Oh, should I hold a spot for you here at the Thirteenth then? Or should I talk to your Pops and uncle over at the Sixth?"

"Neither! I'm going to join the Eleventh!"

Rukia exchanged a wry look with her third seat. "Now, there's a nightmare." She led them back through the division toward her office where she sat Ichika on the plush armchair just inside the door. "What do you want to do today, Ichika-chan?"

Ichika muddled over her mother's question for a bit, tiny face twisted up in an expression altogether too serious for a child her age. "We are going to make a masterpest!"

"A what now?"

"Like, a very, very good drawing! That what Yumi-chan calls my best work!"

"Oh, a masterpiece!"

"That is exactly what I said, Mama."

"Of course, of course." Rukia opened the dedicated drawer in her desk and withdrew paper and a pack from crayons from the Living World. "What will you be drawing today?"

"Animals."

"I draw bunnies very well, you know."

"One day," Ichika grasped her hand in a fist, "I will be as good as Mama at bunnies! Here, you draw, too!"

"Ichika-chan, I have my own work to do, you know," Rukia gently told her daughter. Her big eyes welled with tears, and Rukia could tell that her daughter wouldn't take "no" for an answer. "I'll draw one masterpiece with you, how about that? My best one yet!"

Ichika's looming crocodile tears retreated immediately, and she cheered. Her mother rolled her eyes at herself; she knew she spoiled her daughter. She simply didn't care. Sure enough, she pushed aside the stack of requisition forms on her desk to make room for some paper for herself, and Ichika crawled into her lap and made herself comfortable.

"What should my masterpiece be, sweetheart?"

"Definitely bunnies. But they're shinigami, like our family! One is a captain, like Bya-jii!" She rattled off, squirming in her excitement.

"Oh, I can definitely draw that!" For the next fifteen minutes, Rukia drew a grand – by her standards – battle scene, with several shinigami bunnies locked in epic combat with some hollow bears. Ichika chose the colors diligently, intent on the collaboration being worthy of the title of Best Mama Masterpiece Ever, as she had dubbed it very quickly. Rukia herself thought it to be one of her better works – bunnies being her specialty, after all. Her daughter screamed in excitement at the final product, grabbing it off the desk and sprinting through the division offices to show it to her Thirteenth family. The Vice Captain nodded in self-satisfaction. At least someone appreciated her skill.

Eventually, the Ninth Seat, Hashimoto, had wrangled Ichika and returned her to the office, and Rukia set her up on the coffee table to try her own hand at drawing. Turning to her own paperwork, she sighed at the prospect. She half expected one of these requisition forms to be for more paper and ink to create even more paperwork to drown herself in, a never-ending cycle that ended with her buried alive in bureaucracy.

"Mama, what's the Living World like?" Rukia looked up to watch as Ichika intently studied her crayons, which were brought back by Byakuya on his last trip to Karakura. Her small fingers fiddled with the paper wrapping. "Have you gone?"

"I was stationed there for a while. I had some friends there too."

"Is it different from here?"

Rukia thought about how to explain her time in Karakura. Memories of her classmates and their antics brought a grin to her lips, thinking about how much they had reminded her of her colleagues in the Gotei Thirteen when she had first met them. "The people are the same. You'll find that no matter where you go, people are the same everywhere… but they have different technology, and different priorities. They have drinks in paper boxes that you drink through tiny straws that you push through the top, and electronic boxes with screens that you can watch people play out theatrical stories."

Ichika blinked in disbelief. "The paper doesn't get wet?"

"I believe they coat it in wax."

The little girl pondered this. "Like a candle?" Rukia nodded. "What is it called?"

Rukia smiled. "A 'juice box'!"

Ichika's wide-eyed stare narrowed with suspicion at her mother. "Are you joking with me?"

"I'm not. You can ask your uncle to bring some back with him next time he has to go for a visit."

"Why does Bya-nii need to go? If you have friends, why don't you visit them?"

"Because I'm needed here. The Thirteenth doesn't have a captain, and your Pops is good enough at his job that Nii-sama can go check on the Living World every once in a while."

"That hardly seems fair."

Rukia ruffled her hair. "It's fine. We all have our responsibilities. Now, your masterpiece isn't done yet, and I can't wait to see it when you're finished!"

"Okay." Ichika held up her drawing – like her mother, she was partial to rabbits, but she seemed to quite enjoy drawing cats, too – with a critical eye. "When you do see your friends, can I come too? I've never been to the Living World."

"Maybe," Rukia placated, swallowing past a lump in her throat. "That won't be for a while, though."

Ichika got to working on her drawing again, filling the whole bottom of the page in brightly colored doodle flowers. "Do you think your friends will like me?"

The shinigami chuckled. "I know they will." Ichika hummed absently in reply and colored in the sky pink.

---

Rukia fingered her hair, now grown well past her shoulders. She couldn't remember a time in the past when she had let it go so long. Since having the twins, she had only trimmed to maintain it. Now the length always seemed to get in the way, and she spent time every morning either whipping it up into a bun or tying it back in a braid. She dropped the length she was fidgeting with. How did Matsumoto keep hers long and unbound all of those years? How had she kept it from getting tangled during a fight?

With a sigh, she knotted it roughly at her nape. She wasn't trying to impress anyone today – she just needed it out of her face. Sitting in jinzen was peaceful and balancing but being interrupted every few minutes from a stray hair tickling her nose didn't do her any good. She unsheathed her blade.

The gardens were a quiet retreat, the early-autumn leaves rustling together like music overhead. She found her place at the base of the old tree in the corner – her favorite spot, tucked away as it was – and settled against the trunk, Sode no Shirayuki placed gently across her legs. Her eyes slid closed, and she slipped away into her Inner World. The warm golds and reds of the season were swiftly replaced with the icy silver of deep winter, the perpetual blizzard nearly whiting-out her vision.

She covered her face against the sting of the snow and trudged through the already knee-deep drifts toward the hut she knew would be awaiting her. The teahouse rose out of the snow like a ghost, gray and silent, until she placed a steadying hand on its walls, tracing around its side until she found the door. She pushed through the simple reed covering, and as she stepped inside, a sigh of relief escaped as the warmth from the low fire in the pit thawed her fingers and nose. Rukia tossed on a few more logs from the pile in the corner and sat down to wait, toasting her hands and toes against the heat.

"Hello, Rukia-sama, it has been a little while."

Rukia didn't jump at the voice; Sode no Shirayuki was part of her soul after all, and she could sense her melt out of the frenzied snowfall outside. "It has. I apologize. I feel like I haven't had any rest for months." She gave her zanpakuto a rueful smile. "I shouldn't have been gone so long."

"I, too, have been remiss in our connection. With the state of your Inner World as it is, it's difficult for my voice to reach you."

Outside, the wind howled against the walls of the tiny teahouse. Rukia frowned. Beyond the door was an unforgiving tundra. It had been several years since Rukia last witnessed the serene snowfields that stretched to the horizon. "The weather is more severe than I remember."

Sode no Shirayuki waved a hand and seemed to pull a kettle from a pocket of air. She placed it on the hook over the fire to heat. "Do you know why the seasons change, Rukia-sama?"

Rukia blinked. "It's reliant upon the tilt of the Earth's axis being away from the sun. Soul Society follows the Northern Hemisphere's seasonal cycle… but that's hardly relevant to here, where it's always winter."

Her zanpakuto ignored her commentary and folded her hands into her white sleeves. "It is almost as if the Earth is shying away, isn't it? Did you know it is then, in the depths of the darkest months, that the Earth is actually closest in its orbit to the sun? That is called the perihelion."

"I don't understand what that has to do with my Inner World."

Sode no Shirayuki leveled a stern look at her wielder. "Winter is bound to the sun, Rukia-sama. That is the natural order of things. When such order is disrupted…" Wind whipped the reed hanging, sending in biting cold to nip at Rukia's cheeks. "Well, it is as you see." The elegant zanpakuto plucked the now-steaming kettle from its perch and summoned a cup as easily as she had the kettle. She filled the cup, and, instead of the hot water Rukia was expecting, the aroma of tea floated to her senses. She presented it to her mistress with a small bow, and Rukia received it gratefully. The warmth from the stoneware cup alone almost burned her cold palms, but she held it securely in her grasp.

She drank her tea in silence. Sode no Shirayuki appeared to have nothing left to add, but they both reveled in the comfortable company. Once her cup was empty, Rukia cleared her throat, catching her zanpakuto's attention.

"What is it called when the earth is furthest from the sun?"

Sode no Shirayuki smiled with sad knowing, and Rukia blinked. When she opened her eyes, she was under the tree again, Sode no Shirayuki once more warm steel in her lap.

---

"Again, Kurihara? Do you sleep?" Rukia didn't even need to look up from the documents in her hands as she passed the man lurking outside of the Thirteenth's gates. This had been the fourth time in as many days that he had been waiting to ambush her between her duties. She was on her way to check on some of her people in the Fourth and wanted to get rid of this rodent as quickly as she could. She could hear his footsteps quickly follow after her.

"Do not pretend to care for my health, Vice Captain Kuchiki—"

"Glad you know it's a pretense, I will do away with it then. Do me a favor and bother someone else with your nonsense."

"I think you know that is impossible, considering you have warned off all of your accomplices."

"I hardly think I need to tell people to avoid a diseased rat. Typically their own common sense takes care of that," she smiled sweetly at a couple of her seated officers who called out greetings as they passed.

"Impeding an investigation is punishable my law, Vice Captain."

"Is that what you're calling this farce? It was my impression that investigations are awarded more resources than just a singular clerk who was getting on his superior's last nerve."

"I have the complete faith and support of the Honorable Judge Miyagawa-sama to pursue my investigation! Your indiscretions will come to light, and you will be punished according to the law."

"I'm already receiving punishment in the form of your incessant prattling. Are your lips sore from continually kissing Miyagawa's ass? I'd give you some chapstick, but it's limited edition Chappy, and I don't care about you."

She crossed over the threshold to the Fourth and waved the man off. "Vermin aren't allowed here, healers are very specific on keeping these halls pristine."

"You are not in a position of authority here, Vice Captain Kuchiki."

"No, but I am," a smiling Kiyone was waiting to meet Rukia and gestured with her clipboard. "For the sake of our recuperating patients, toxic elements are not allowed within our grounds."

"There you go, Kurihara," Rukia wound an arm through her friend's. "The authorities say get lost."

The man sneered and turned on his heel, dodging around a few incoming shinigami. "This isn't over, Vice Captain Kuchiki!"

"No, I suppose it takes more than this to get rid of a pest like you." She turned to Kiyone. "My files?"

"Don't worry, Vice Captain," the blonde woman squeezed her arm conspiratorially, "we take care of our own."

"Thank you. Now, where are my troublemakers?"

To avoid the potential of having unwelcome company on the way back to her own division, Rukia made sure to shunpo to her offices. Afternoon training went off without much issue – she had a few rowdy new recruits that ran the perimeter a few times for disrupting the exercise – and she was glad to wrap up relatively early.

Along the route between the Kuchiki Estate and the Thirteenth Division stood an empty house. It was a dilapidated old thing, covered in grime and plant growth from the bottom floor to the second story – some greenery seemed to be thriving between the roof tiles, as well. The paper shutters had since disintegrated in their frames, and who could say what had made its home there since it had been abandoned. Rukia figured that it was still uninhabited due to the location; being on the fringes of a wealthy neighborhood, few could afford the property, and those who had the means had no desire to put in the work to make it presentable again.

She had always liked it, even before her time in the Living World, for its possibilities. Now it somehow reminded her of the chaotic house and clinic, a closet and a loud family that she had once called home, and it brought a nostalgic smile to her lips. She half-expected a bright head to poke out of the upper story window and berate her for covering his room in Chappy sketches.

---

Rukia made a point to turn away before she could imagine their children tearing around the front garden, and she continued on her way. She made a mental note to check the property archives for the owners – just to sate her curiosity, surely.

"Ichika. Please. Just eat it." Rukia had her head on the table at this point, exhausted but determined not to be overruled by a four-year-old. Ichika merely scowled at the seaweed salad, poking it dubiously with her chopsticks.

"But it's slimy! And stringy! It gets stuck in my teeth, and I don't want to eat it, Mama!"

"Last week you said you loved it so much that you wanted to swim in it. You said that you wanted to become a seaweed angel and live in seaweed heaven."

Ichika looked her mother square in the eyes with a gaunt, haunted expression Rukia expected to see more on war-ravaged soldiers than her spoiled child. "I never want to eat seaweed again."

Exasperation colored her tone, but she couldn't help it anymore. "Look, I ate mine! Your Pops ate his!" Renji obligingly showed off his empty bowl. His amused expression undercut the point she was trying to make, but Rukia pushed on. "It's good for you, and it tastes delicious. Eat it."

"No!"

"Ichika." The little girl stilled at her uncle's tone and glanced to the head of the table, where he continued to eat his own dinner. Without looking up, he stated, "If you don't eat your salad, you will offend the Seaweed Ambassador and cause a diplomatic incident."

Ichika stiffened in her seat, paralyzed for all of a few seconds, before digging into her bowl of seaweed salad, polishing it off immediately. Rukia sat aghast as her child inhaled the greens and asked for seconds.

She placed her head back down on the table and sighed.

---

Ichika bounced into her office, tossing greetings to division members on her way in. "Mama, can I play with Reina-chan this weekend?"

Rukia blinked up from the schedule she had been staring it for forty minutes. Now that she had thought about it, it had been a while since Ichika's friend had come over to the estate to play. She mentally checked her calendar and knew she could shift some things around to work from the estate. "What day do you want her to come over?"

"Reina-chan invited me to her house to play!"

Not hosting the playdate would give her plenty of time to finish out her preparations for the next week. Rukia smiled down at her daughter. "I don't see why not."

"Yay!" The little girl cheered and threw herself at her mother, who managed to move her inkwell away in time to catch her flying leap. "I'm so excited!"

"What day did Reina-chan invite you over?"

"Tomorrow! After breakfast!"

"I can walk with you on my way here, how does that sound?" Ichika cheered again and cuddled into her mother's side, chattering on about this and that to fill the silence of the office. Rukia finished up her work and the pair raced home, Ichika excited to go visit her friend and Rukia looking forward to getting ahead of her duties for once.

The next morning, Ichika had dressed herself and had gotten to the breakfast table before even Byakuya, seemingly buzzing in place with energy. Rukia had to remind her to chew her food instead of just inhaling it, and Renji, with a kiss on her head, wished her a fun playdate before heading out for sparring with the Ikkaku. Soon enough, Ichika was pulling on her hand, dragging Rukia out the door and down the street, the sun and moon chord holding her ponytail bouncing along just as cheerily.

"Now, listen to what the Kimotos say, it is their house, and you have to behave. Remember to thank them for letting you play with Reina-chan and any food or water they give you, okay?"

"Yes! I will be so good! Then I can go over again!"

"If you need me for any reason, you can ask the Kimotos and they can send someone to come get me."

"Mamaaaa, I'll be fine!"

"If you say so!"

The Kimoto house was only about a fifteen minute walk from the Kuchiki estate, a little out of the way for Rukia on the way to the division, but not too far at all to see her daughter off for a playdate away from home. The house itself was modest in comparison to their sprawling family home, and, in a way, reminded her of the house and clinic still sitting where she had left it in Karakura. Reina's mother, a gentle mannered woman with a soft smile, answered the door and assured Rukia that Ichika would be fine, and then Rukia was stepping into shunpo and burying herself in paperwork.

A quarter past noon, a shy knock interrupted her focus, and she looked up to greet an unfamiliar woman standing in her doorway. "Hello, can I help you?"

"Ah, yes, my apologies! I come with a message from Kimoto Kaede-san?"

What did she do, now? Rukia groaned and extended her hand for the note the messenger held. The woman handed it over with a bow and swiftly made her exit. She unfolded the letter and murmured as her eyes followed the words, "Dear Vice Captain Kuchiki, would it be possible for you to retrieve Ichika as soon as your convenience allows… the flower bushes of the front garden have caught on fire and our gardeners are doing their best to extinguish them – this child, I swear. Sentaro!" She called out. Her third seat popped his head around the doorframe. "I have a tiny arsonist to apprehend, we'll be back after I do."

"Would you like tea when you return?"

"Yes, that would be lovely. I'll be back soon."

She made her way back toward the Kimoto house, shaking her head at her delinquent child. She knew that Ichika inherited her propensity for getting into trouble from both her parents, but she wished her daughter had gotten her kido control rather than her father's. It was fortunate that the only victim was the landscaping. She would have to have a talk with Byakuya to figure out a suitable apology gift to send the Kimoto family tomorrow.

The delinquent in question was waiting in the front garden with the entire family, and she ran to her mother happily when she caught sight of her. Rukia made her apologies to the elder Kimotos while Ichika and Reina said their goodbyes, completely oblivious to – or uncaring of – the scent of burnt flora that wrapped around the yard.

"Bye, Ichika-chan! Come play again!" Reina waved her hands excitedly, thrilled by her friend's explosive antics. Rukia noticed that her parents, still hovering over their smoldering bushes, looked less enthused at the prospect.

Ichika waved back from Rukia's arms. "Bye Reina-chan! Bye Reina-chan's Mom and Dad! Thanks for having me!"

Rukia waited until they were a fair distance from the Kimoto's house before beginning her scolding. "Ichika, you know that you are only to practice kido in division training grounds or with me present. You could have seriously hurt yourself, or Reina-chan. I hope you understand that you've just caused a lot of trouble for the Kimotos."

The girl frowned. "I know," Ichika admitted, obviously feeling a bit dejected. "She wanted to see what I'd learned. She thinks it's cool."

"It is cool, but it is also dangerous. That's why we practice to use it to defend ourselves, not to show it off. Okay?"

"Okay. Sorry, Mama."

"I'm just glad neither of you were hurt. Although, I can't say the same for Kimoto-san's hydrangeas. You should apologize to them, as well." The little girl nodded and buried her face in her mother's shoulder. Rukia hefted her a bit more to hold her comfortably – as fast as her daughter was growing, she didn't know how much longer she could carry her around like that. She hugged her tighter at the thought.

"Mama, did you have any childhood friends?"

Rukia hummed in agreement. "Your Pops has been my friend since we were young, and we also had some other friends growing up."

"Is he your best friend?"

"Hmm? Of course, I care for him very much."

"Reina-chan is my bestest friend, I think." Ichika leaned away to cup her mother's face with all the seriousness a child can muster. "Is he your bestest friend?"

Rukia slowed to a halt. "No, my very best friend lives far away. I haven't seen him in a long time." Ichika seemed to perk up at this new information, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

"Did you grow up with him, Mama?"

"Well, I was only with him for a few years, but I think I did do a lot of growing during that time."

"Was he one of your Living World friends? That's why he's far away!" The little girl answered her own question, but her mother still nodded in confirmation. "Do you miss him?"

"Very much, Ichika."

"Oh Mama, I didn't mean to make you cry!" Rukia startled at the feel of her daughter's hands at her cheeks, trying to wipe away tears that Rukia hadn't even realized were falling. She gave a wobbly smile.

"It's okay, sweetheart, I'm just sad."

"That's sad," Ichika repeated and snuggled into her mother's shoulder. She hugged her around the neck as she spoke into her uniform. "I'm sorry you're sad."

Rukia pressed her own tears into her daughter's bright red hair and thought about what Sode no Shirayuki had said about the winter sun. "It's okay," she said again, and they continued on their way back to the Division.

---

"I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair so grown," Sode no Shirayuki murmured over her steaming mug, "though you do not seem to care for it much yourself."

Rukia brought a hand absentmindedly the haphazard braid that had fallen forward over her shoulder, damp with melted snow and chilling her neck where the wet hairs stuck to her skin. "I don't, really. I find that it's so heavy… I'd chop it all off in a heartbeat if I could," she thought back to filtered moonlight, a murmured promise, a "one day, maybe your everything", "but I made a promise with myself several years ago, and I intend to see it through. The length will just have to stay until then, as well."

"A reminder of your vow?"

"Something like that." She fiddled with the plait again, separating out some strands to dry faster in the fire. "More of something to keep private, between us. It makes me feel closer to him."

Her zanpakuto's eyes glimmered with a sense of mischief. "Is that so? A poor substitute, to be sure."

Rukia frowned disapprovingly at the pale woman. "I never said that."

"Didn't you?"

Rukia groaned as she opened her eyes to the Kuchiki gardens and wondered when, if ever, the other half of her soul would stop being so abstruse.

---

The evening air was crisp with the season, though Rukia found it to be refreshing. After a long day at the division, the chill felt almost invigorating; maybe it was her zanpakuto's influence or her own preference, but comfortable walks beside Karakura's river had taken the place of her early years of shivering through winters in Rukongai, and rough, frozen fingers had been replaced by the memory of the warmth of his hand in hers. A sunny winter's day was Rukia's favorite; it made her feel like she was close to him again.

However, she couldn't suppress her shiver as she passed through a deep shadow, the heat of the setting sun unable to reach her there. The shade cast by the newly reconstructed Sokyouku stretched across Seireitei, long with the hour and carrying with it a less-than-subtle malice.

The Judges' insistence that the weapon be reconstructed was more than poorly received by the Gotei Thirteen as a whole. The scale was nothing short of a threat, with the executioner's blade hanging heavily over the heads of every shinigami within the seiki walls. The message was simple; they blamed the past years' upheaval on the Gotei Thirteen, and they meant to nip any further disruption to Soul Society in the bud. At least that was the obvious take – Rukia knew that the Judges were grasping for any way to maintain their status quo, taken forcefully in the chaotic fallout from the series of wars that literally shook Seireitei to its foundations.

She glared up at the weapon, wishing for a moment that her zanpakutou was fire instead of ice so that she could burn it to charcoal where it stood.

Power. It disgusted Rukia how much of her life had been carved away from her in others' pursuit to attain power. More than that, how much of her life was withheld because of those same people's desires to keep it.

"Rukia! Headed home?"

She stopped at the call and waited for her "husband" to join her, still draped in the oppressive shadow that grew larger every minute. Renji strolled up and draped an arm over her shoulders, his heat doing little to mitigate the heaviness seeping into her body. He pressed a rare kiss to her cheek, muttering, "that agent ass is following you, again," then, louder, "how was your day? I heard the Thirteenth was doing joint drills with the over at the Third. Maybe we can arrange something with the Sixth, as well."

Rukia placed a grateful hand around his back and leaned into his side more comfortably, the very image of a tired working wife cuddling up to her partner. "I'll see what Nii-sama says, though working out the details will probably be up to you and Sentaro. The Nanao-san just sent over a mountain of paperwork that I'm sure will take me all of next week to get through."

"Oof, I'm sure you're not looking forward to that. Care for a drink before we head home? Sounds like you need it."

"Actually, that sounds perfect. Anyone else going out tonight?"

"The usual crowd, I'd say. Man, I could go for some barbeque, as well."

"We can just make a night of it. I'm sure Nii-sama won't mind having Ichika to himself to not-so-secretly spoil her rotten. Let me send a Hell Butterfly to let him know the change in plans." She summoned and sent one out immediately, watching absently as it fluttered its way toward the estate while she and Renji made a detour toward the bar district. Quietly, she murmured, "I hope I didn't disturb your plans. I know the two of you don't get the amount of private time you deserve."

"Don't worry about it." He squeezed her shoulders. Louder again, he announced, "I'm sure he won't mind my having a date night with my wife."

"Everything good in your offices?"

"You know your brother – he runs a tight ship. Some of the guys from the Eleventh stopped in around lunch hoping to have a spar, but the Captain scared them off with questions about their babysitting methods. I don't think he's been too pleased with some of the freedoms they've been giving Ichika."

Rukia chuckled, pinching her friend's side teasingly. He yelped and squeezed her tighter in retaliation. She felt her back pop. "Even I don't entirely agree with their methods, but at least they have experience wrangling a little girl with that much energy. We're fortunate enough to have the friends we do – it'll definitely take a village to raise that one."

"We'll take what we can get," he laughed. The light from their typical hole-in-the-wall spilled out onto the rapidly darkening street, the sounds of japes and laughter echoing down toward them. "Sounds like the party's already gotten started, Vice Captain Kuchiki."

"After you, Vice Captain Abarai."

The two sniggered together as they ducked in the doorway, the light and warmth of the izakaya driving away the oncoming night outside. A round of cheers went up at their presence by their fellow Vice Captains and friends in attendance, and Rukia pretended not to see several of her subordinates from the Thirteenth straighten to attention as she walked in. It was after hours, so what they did with their time was none of her business – though she would take note of how they worked tomorrow with a knowing glint in her eye.

Matsumoto shoved a drink into her hand as she approached and yanked the smaller woman out of Renji's grasp to wrap her in her own. "It's been so long since you've come out with us!"

Rukia laughed into her friend's ample bosom, wiggling free enough to take a sip of whatever Matsumoto had given her. "I was drinking with you not two weeks ago!"

"So long!" Her colleagues all joined in the laughter, quite evidently more than a few drinks in already, and Hisagi passed her a plate of yakitori to munch on as well. Not five minutes after they had entered, however, the entire bar went silent as a grave, all interest pulled to the entrance.

Standing caught at the door, obviously not anticipating the sudden attention, was that little rat Kurihara. Having followed her from the Thirteenth Division offices, Rukia assumed that he thought he could sneak in unnoticed here too. Much to her satisfaction, every eye in the place was focused solely on him, an impenetrable wall of protection against whatever he thought he was going to catch her doing. His gaze flicked to every seated officer in the room, each brimming with barely-restrained power, before it turned to meet hers, and she could see his trepidation rising.

Perhaps his espionage might have worked ten years ago, before Aizen, before Yhwach. Before Ichigo. But the culture of the Seireitei, the community of battle-hardened soldiers bound together by blood spilt and lives lost, could no longer be so easily infiltrated and divided and turned against itself. Rukia raised her glass, and Matsumoto caught it in a toast. Good luck, asshole.

"E-excuse me," he muttered out and fled the doorway. Jeers followed in his wake, a few nasty taunts being hurled by her own Thirteenth members seated near the entrance; maybe she wouldn't tease them about their night out tomorrow after all.

Ikkaku sidled up from behind her, sneering at the retreating figure. "Good riddance. That coward has sniffed has around the Eleventh, too." A wide grin stretched his lips into a feral smile. "Just once, though."

Rukia smiled in return and passed him a newly filled glass. Yes, she thought. It takes a village to raise a child, and theirs was filled with the fiercest protectors she could hope to find. A village? More like an army.

"Hey, next round is on me!" Renji cried out, everyone shouting their approval in return. Rukia merely sipped on her own sake and relished the warmth of the liquor and her friends. She cuddled closer to Matsumoto, who in turn joked with her and yelled down the bar for more food.

She may be lonely, but she was far from alone. The thought settled comfortingly around her shoulders, and she smiled into her drink before hailing the bartender for another.

---

She shifted comfortably, snuggling deeper into the warmth at her side. She could feel his steady breaths – in, hold, out, and again – against her cheek as she wrapped her arms around his chest. She didn't dare look; she just reveled in the sensation of being so fully swaddled in the sense of home.

When Rukia opened her eyes, her arms and bed were empty. She was alone. She draped a hand over her face and wished that she could have basked in that warmth just a bit longer.

---

"Ah, there you are, Rukia-chan! Not to worry, this won't take long." Kyouraku waved her inside the office, barely looking up from the document he was reading. "Nanao-chan will kill me if I don't finish reading these, so please bear with me a moment."

She dithered for a few minutes, until she was unsure if he had actually forgotten she was standing there. "You called for me, sir?"

"Hmm? Yes, I have a mission for you. I figure you've been feeling a bit couped up recently. I need an envoy to go to Las Noches, smooth some things out with the remaining arrancar. I believe you know the current leader, Nelliel Tu Odelschwank."

Rukia remembered her brother mentioning something about the Captain Commander's efforts. "Yes, I would consider Nel a friend. But I had thought that it was Harribel leading the arrancar, now?"

"She's apparently still recovering from the last war. You know the Quincy's attitudes toward hollows… she seems to have borne the brunt of their wrath." He held out a sheaf of papers, and Rukia readily accepted them. "I have already sent notice of your arrival, so if you would please assemble a small team for the trip, you can be off by tomorrow. Those are the particulars." He nodded to the papers. "Let me know if you have any questions before you depart. This is an important mission, Rukia-chan, and there are few who I would trust to complete it to my satisfaction."

Rukia flushed under his praise and nodded her appreciation, almost feeling like a recruit on her first mission again. Maybe she had been feeling more couped up than she had thought. "Thank you, sir." He cheerily waved her goodbye as she left his offices. She was a bit stunned, and excitement warmed her from her core. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone on a mission outside Soul Society… it definitely had been before the children.

She glanced around the hallways of the First Division. Seeing no one, she took a moment to jump excitedly.

Rukia took the time during her walk back to the estate to peruse the documents. It appeared that she would appear as some sort of ambassador to help begin a more cordial relationship with the advanced hollows. Without Aizen and the Hokyouku, it was unlikely any more arrancar would come into being, as Coyote Starrk had been the only one of them to be naturally born. It was better to be on friendly relations and be tentative partners in controlling the more animalistic hollows than risk yet another conflict; neither side would come out of another war truly victorious. She sent off a couple of Hell Butterflies to assign members to her team, as well as one to the Fourth to request a member accompany them.

When she delivered the news at dinner, she could tell that Byakuya and Renji were enthusiastic for her to be able to leave Soul Society, even if it was for work rather than pleasure. Ichika, on the other hand, puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.

"I want to go, too!"

"That's not possible, Ichika-chan. Hueco Mundo is no place for little girls," Renji attempted to placate her and head off a rare temper tantrum to little avail. "It can be dangerous even for grown and trained shinigami."

Said little girl glared at him, her cheeks flushed under eyes bright with anger. "Then Mama shouldn't go at all!"

"No, Ichika-chan, I'm going." Rukia's tone brooked no argument. "I am much stronger than most of the shinigami in the Gotei Thirteen, and I am friendly with the people I'm meeting. I will be fine."

Ichika slapped her hands on the table in a fit of pique. Byakuya stared at her in startled surprise. "It's not fair. You never leave!"

Rukia took a moment to think that over. It was true – since Ichika could remember, Renji was always the one leaving for missions for days and weeks at a time, while she stayed in Soul Society with her daughter. She shook her head. "This isn't the first mission I've been on, sweetheart. Just think about all the fun you'll have with your uncle and Pops! I'll be back before you know it."

Ichika looked to both of the men at the table with her, willing them with her eyes to back her up and demand that her mother stay. When she didn't get their support, she launched herself from her seat and ran from the room. The three shinigami heard the angry slam of her bedroom door moments later. Renji stood with a tired groan and followed after his adopted progeny.

Byakuya sipped his tea. "She'll come to terms and regret her behavior once you have left."

Rukia leaned back on her elbows and tugged at a loose thread on her yukata. "I know. I just hate to leave when she's in such a mood. I won't even be gone that long, just a few days."

"When do you depart?"

"Early tomorrow. I'll duck in and say goodbye to her before I go, though she will probably still be asleep."

Her brother set down his cup and waved off the servant moving to refill his tea. "I'm glad for you. It has been too long since you were last able to step out from under the shadow of this place."

Rukia nodded, unable to keep a small smile off of her lips. "I can't wait, truly. Not that I want to leave Ichika behind, but… I think I need this. I can't explain it any other way."

Byakuya laid an affectionate hand on hers. "You are meant for more than paperwork. After all of the training and ordeals you have undergone to get to your Vice Captaincy, it's hard to stay in the office for most of the day. All of us feel that way. It makes us restless." She swore he hid a small smirk of his own behind his hand. "When Kurosaki and his friends first tore into Soul Society, it seemed offensive and barbaric. However, I believe many of the captains felt the same rush from the challenge they presented. It was the most excitement we had received in a very long time."

Rukia shook her head, disbelief evident on her face. "I was preparing to be executed and you were having fun?" She teased.

Byakuya grimaced. "I wouldn't go that far." He paused. "Maybe, in hindsight. The situation was not by any means ideal." Rukia laughed at his awkwardness, having long since forgiven her brother for his role in her ordeal. "There is a reason that Kurosaki could come and go unregulated after that. I'm not saying that I enjoyed it… but others certainly did. Primarily Kenpachi."

"Of course, Nii-sama." She muffled her mirth, a thought suddenly coming to her. "Nii-sama, I know the answer is probably going to be 'no,' but do we have any records about outer space?"

Byakuya blinked slowly, covering his surprise at the sudden change in topic. "You wish to learn about… outer space?"

"Sort of. Well, certain aspects of it, I guess? Sode no Shirayuki said something, and I'm trying to understand what she means by it."

"Our family may well hold the Soul Society's records, but I believe celestial mechanics is quite outside our purview."

Rukia sighed, "I knew it was a longshot to ask."

"I'll ask one of the archivists to look into it." He shook his head in sympathy. "The other halves of our souls are not always the most forthright. Senbonzakura has given me many cryptic messages in the past. I understand your desire to know more."

Her heart warmed in response and she squeezed his hand in appreciation. "Thank you, Nii-sama."

The next morning was crisp and invigorating, early winter having made itself known through pinkened noses and visible breath. Rukia left the manor with a kiss on Ichika's sleeping brow and a wave to her brother before she met up with her team at the First Division, where the Gate to Hueco Mundo awaited them.

Winter in the desert was dry and bitter, holding none of the refreshing mist they had left behind in the much more temperate Seireitei. The Gate dropped them some ways from the walls of Las Noches, the now broken dome hovering in the distance. Rukia and her subordinates took off at a brisk pace, not willing to be out in the sands longer than they had to be. The moon hung over them, an ever-present guardian over the wastes. Rukia surveyed the barren terrain in front of them. "Let's go." They ran.

There were a few minor hollows to be dispatched closer to the walls, but they were not at all close to being strong enough to hurt her or her entourage. Soon, they were greeted outside Las Noches by some Fraccion, who guided them inside and to where Nel held her meetings – though not without a little peacocking and taunting to show off for their once-enemies.

Although it had been almost seven years, the beautiful arrancar looked almost the same as when Rukia had last seen her. Instead of the fitted white uniform, she looked elegant in soft, tawny robes, and her mess of green hair was loosely tamed into a wild braid, but her joyful expression and tight embrace reminded Rukia of the little girl from the desert.

"It is so good to see you! How have you been? How's Soul Society? They certainly had cleaning up to do after Grimm and I left! How is Ichigo?" The questions came rapid fire, and Rukia stayed trapped in the woman's arms all the while.

"Ah, I'm well, Soul Society has rebuilt almost entirely. I haven't seen Ichigo since we parted ways about five years ago, but I've heard that he's well."

Nel pushed her back to arm's length. "You haven't seen him in–?" She examined her with a piercing gaze. After a long moment, she released an annoyed huff. "I'll pry more of that out of you later." She turned to the rest of the shinigami present and welcomed them to Las Noches. "I understand your hesitance to stay longer than necessary, so we can get straight to work. What does the Captain Commander have in mind?"

They worked straight through the day, with Nel occasionally sending reports to the bedridden Harribel – "I like to keep her in the loop," she had said when Rukia asked. "I'm more a substitute than anything else, and I don't want her to think I've made these decisions without her." – and one of her shinigami from the Thirteenth playing secretary. Nel had called for refreshments throughout the day to keep their productivity rolling. By the time they called a break for the evening, a basic structure of the alliance had mostly come into form, and the former Espada stole Rukia away for a private dinner in her quarters while the others were shown to their accommodations.

Like mostly everything in Las Noches, Nel's rooms were simple in design, all white walls and minimalist furniture with the prominent feature being the wide window that looked out over the compound. Looking down, Rukia could see a few arrancar milling about the courtyard, a couple jumping out of the way of one with a shock of bright blue hair. A glance up showed the shining moon as it washed the land in light, even at the late hour.

After they finished their food and easy conversation, Nel leveled a knowing look at her shorter friend. "What really happened? I know Ichigo wouldn't just let you go like that, and I'm confident in your feelings being just as strong."

Rukia shifted nervously, unsure if she should keep up the ruse here as well, especially with the new connections being drawn up between the two realms. "I don't know what to tell you, Nel. There was a law passed forbidding relationships like ours, and we didn't really have a choice." Half-truths would have to suffice. She disliked lying to the woman, and technically everything she was saying was true.

Nel shook her head emphatically. A few more strands fell out of her messy plait. "No, no, something else happened. Neither of you are the type to take that lying down."

Rukia chose to stare out the window. She honestly couldn't tell if the moon seemed ominous or comforting. "It became too dangerous. We ended it, for the sake of everyone involved."

"So, your feelings are still the same as they were then." Rukia just turned her gaze to the woman, willing her with all her strength to understand what she couldn't admit aloud. Nel tapped on the table with a finger, turning something over in her mind. "You know, there's always a place for you here. Your shinigami laws can't reach you in Hueco Mundo. And I know Grimmjow would be happy to have Ichigo kick his ass back and forth across the sands again." Rukia laughed; the volatile arrancar probably would be happy, if only because she knew that Ichigo would be just as willing to take up the challenge.

"Thank you," Rukia's heart warmed with the idealistic offer, "but things are a bit more complicated, now. I have a daughter, and I'm married."

"Do you really?" Nel brightened, childlike curiosity playing across her face. "How old is she?"

"Four."

Nel appraised her with that knowing gaze again, with her lips pursed like she was trying to keep a secret, and Rukia wondered, not for the first time, how she had gained so much wisdom in her years wandering the desert with only her Fraccion for company. "'For the sakes of everyone involved,' is it?"

"It's in the past."

A hum. "Sure it is. But you will always be welcome here." The 'all of you' went unsaid.

Rukia grasped her friend's hands tightly in her own. "Thank you."

Nel took one of her hands and brushed it over Rukia's dark locks. "You must be tired." Rukia nodded. "Let's get you to your room. You can tell me all about your little girl on the way! What's her name?"

"Ichika."

"Subtle."

Rukia let a small chuckle escape and shoved the Hollow. "Hush, you."

The negotiations were completed by the next midday with tentative plans to meet again, once Nel had consulted with Harribel. The small party of shinigami and hollows stepped just outside Las Noches' walls to depart – Rukia could tell how exhausted and antsy her team members were, unused to trying to rest with the ambient sounds of hollows howling in the night. She doubted many of them got much sleep at all, and they were probably all eagerly looking forward to their barrack beds in the Thirteenth. Rukia herself didn't sleep much the previous night, mulling over her friend's words.

Nel hugged her tightly in goodbye and took the opportunity to whisper into her hair, "My offer stands. I spoke to Harribel last night, too – she doesn't object."

Rukia just squeezed her back to convey her gratitude. With so many others around, she couldn't express her thanks in words, but she hoped it came across when she pulled back and said with a grin, "It was great to see you again. I hope something comes of these talks so I can visit more often."

Nel nodded kindly and turned to the rest of the shinigami present. "It was very brave of you all to come on this diplomatic mission, and you have taken a historic step forward. We would be happy to host you again for future endeavors." A couple of Rukia's teammates nodded shyly, and the member of the Fourth Division bowed in respect.

It was time to go.

Nel opened a gargantua, the void seemingly much colder than the Gate they arrived through, but she assured them that the trip was shorter. As the portal closed behind them, Rukia took one last look at her friend and ally, who merely smiled and placed a finger over her lips. Their secrets were safe in Hueco Mundo, far from the reach of the Central 48.

They debriefed upon arrival back to Soul Society, and the Captain Commander seemed optimistic as to the continued talks. Nanao stood by his side silently, a worried frown marring her lips; however, when presented with the documents that were produced during their time there, she took them securely in hand to be copied and stored in their correct places.

Rukia's return to the estate was met with a teary-eyed Ichika, who, as predicted, latched herself onto her mother's legs at the gate with apologies and tears of relief.

"I'm so sorry, Mama, I don't hate you! I missed you so much! Pops is so bad at washing my hair!" she wailed, rubbing her wet face into her mother's uniform. Rukia pet her daughter's soft hair until the sobs ceased and sorrow was overcome with curiosity. "What was it like? Pops said there was sand everywhere. I told him it was impossible for there to be so much sand! Was he lying? Who did you meet?"

Tired as she was, the shinigami bent and picked up her little girl, answering her questions the best she could as a servant pulled the door closed behind them.

---

The whipped snow pierced her exposed skin like needles, and Rukia wondered for the thousandth time why she could never manifest directly into the teahouse. Maybe, she thought bitterly as she pushed through the doorway, her wet and chilled clothes clinging to her body, this is Sode no Shirayuki's way to punish me.

She spied her zanpakuto immediately. The graceful woman showed no acknowledgement of her presence and continued to tend to the firepit. "Sode no Shirayuki," Rukia demanded, indignant and cold and no longer satisfied with her zanpakuto's shrewd avoidances, "when are we furthest from the sun?"

"The aphelion." Sode no Shirayuki responded plainly, warming her fingers by the flames. "It is only supposed to last a moment, you know; the earth reaches the outermost edge of its orbit before spinning home again. This time, it has lasted years." She tilted her head, as if listening to the snow beating against the teahouse. "It's unnatural and unbalanced."

Rukia grit her teeth through her frustration. "There's nothing I can do to fix that."

Sode no Shirayuki settled back, closing her eyes in what appeared to be indifferent resignation. "Then the storm will continue."

Her fury boiled over, and she snapped, "Do you think I want it to stay like this, here?! Do you think I want to be away from him? I don't!" Her clenched fists drove her nails into her palms, and, even as short as they were, she could feel them cut through her skin. Her anger warmed her better than the fire did. "I don't want to be alone! I want to see him! I want to be with him! I want to watch him hold our children, and I want to wake up every morning beside him!" The rage began to twist itself into something dangerously close to desperation, and Rukia fought against the tears limning her lashes. "But even more than that, I need them to be safe! Our children, our families, our friends!"

"As I said, it is unnatural. The heavens care not for the desires of the people they shine upon; they are cosmic bodies, and they carry on as they have for eons. They move and they shine, gravitating around one another in a millennia-long dance, and then here you are, disrupting their time-honored ritual."

She released a watery snort. "Are you seriously comparing our love to celestial movements?"

The zanpuktou arched an amused eyebrow. "Are you implying somehow that it's not so grand a thing?"

Rukia let out a ragged, anguished breath as her eyes snapped open to direct a scorching glare at the naked blade in her lap. She threw it with a scream, incensed and uncaring of where the other half of her soul fell.

---

Rukia arrived back at the estate late, sore and tired from running joint drills with the Fifth Division all afternoon. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, and the winter night enveloped her with welcome as she trudged home, simply too tired to shunpo back. She knew that she had missed dinner but hoped that she still arrived in time to put Ichika in bed.

That hope was dashed, however, when Renji met her at the front entrance, admitting to her in hushed tones that he had taken her to her room an hour before. Rukia rubbed a weary hand over her eyes; perhaps that had been for the best, so Ichika didn't break her routine – a lesson Rukia had learned early on in motherhood. Still, she silently padded to her daughter's room.

The door slid open with a whisper, and she tiptoed inside. It was hardly the first time that she had snuck into Ichika's room to watch her sleep – Renji teased her often about being too overbearing, but she did not know how to describe to him how it felt to sit beside her daughter's futon and wonder at her existence. Like many times before, Rukia dropped cross-legged next to Ichika's sleeping form and traced a gentle hand over her head. It was rare those days to see the girl with her hair down, and it splayed wildly across her pillow, crimson rays radiating from her sweet face. The mother checked her roots; still red enough, for now.

She withdrew her hand and folded it with her other in her lap. Soft moonlight fell upon chubby cheeks, but she knew that Ichika's father's cheekbones hid under that layer of baby fat. Her lips and her stubborn chin belonged to Ichigo too – the eyes were all Rukia's, though. She wondered back to the last photos smuggled in by Hitsugaya, and thought about how Kazue's shape was the same, with his father's amber pushing through.

Rukia bent forward and brushed a kiss against Ichika's brow. She moved to stand and perform her own nightly ablutions, but a small noise halted her mid-rise.

Ichika blinked her eyes open blearily, squinting in the low light. "Mama?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep now, and I'll see you in the morning."

"But I'm 'wake now," she yawned, starting to sit up. Rukia gently but firmly pressed her back to her pillow. "You missed dinner."

The mother settled back down, knowing that Ichika wouldn't let her go so easily now that she had woken. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I had a lot of work that needed to be done before tomorrow."

"Okay. Lay with me?"

"Do you want to snuggle?" Ichika nodded solemnly. Rukia hummed. "Only until you go to sleep. Mamas need baths too."

"Okay." Ichika scooched to the side to allow her mother enough room, gesturing with the arm not clutched around the rabbit toy. Rukia stretched out next to her daughter on the child-sized futon and pet her hair, coaxing the little girl back to dreamland. Ichika made a valiant effort at keeping her eyes open, but she seemed to be losing the battle. "Mama, tell me a story?"

"I think I can do that." She thought for a moment before a smile spread her lips. "There once was a girl trapped in a tower."

"Was she a princess?"

"No, but she had a knight that treated her like one. She gave him orders, and he followed them, though not always obediently and without complaint. He brought her food and drink and even slept close at night, as to guard her in her sleep. However, one day, she was taken away and locked in a tall tower, which was guarded by a great number of strong people. The knight got stronger to take her back and fought the army between him and the tower."

"Did he rescue her?"

"He did. The girl was so happy to see him that it felt like she was seeing the sun for the first time in years. He rescued her and asked for nothing in return, because that was the type of man he was. Kind and strong." Rukia looked over at the girl, who had finally lost the fight against her heavy eyelids. She stroked a knuckle over her soft cheek. "That's the kind of man he was in her heart, and in truth."

She drew away quietly, as not to wake her daughter again. At the door, she whispered a tender "goodnight, Ichika," and slid the door shut.

---

"I know you have left Soul Society, Vice Captain."

Rukia raised an eyebrow as she turned to fix a stare at her stalker. "You as well as everyone else. I was sent on a mission by the Captain Commander himself. It was hardly a secret. Are you determined to waylay me every time I go to and from work?"

Kurihara looked to be at the end of his rope, pallid complexion greying and a rabid desperation in his eyes. Rukia frowned. "A ruse, surely. No doubt meeting with your illicit lover!"

Rukia rolled her shoulders, stiff from training at the division, and resumed her walk back to the estate. "Nelliel is a beautiful woman, certainly, but I am a married woman, and I take my vows quite seriously, thank you."

"I have reason to believe you to continue your affair with Kurosaki Ichigo. You met him under the guise of an officially sanctioned diplomatic mission, didn't you?"

Rukia let out a mocking laugh. "You truly are desperate, aren't you? What is it, your beloved judge will dismiss you if you don't bring her something? It's a fool's errand. She sent you to fail, Kurihara."

"Your daughter is everything I need to present to her!"

If the air had not already been frigid with winter, Rukia would have made it so with her cold ire. She whipped around to the pathetic man, her hand resting meaningfully on her sheathed zanpakutou. "You lay a finger on my daughter, and you will lose more than just your hand."

"Are you threatening me?" He froze in place under her unwavering icy stare.

"Yes."

"T-this is an actionable offense, and I will have you before the Judges for threatening an agent of the court–!"

"You claim to defend the law, while you, yourself, are in direct violation of it." Kurihara, already quite shaken, jumped at the voice. Rukia merely nodded in greeting to her brother, who joined her on the path. "Surely you know that Rukia, as well as her husband and daughter, are members of the Kuchiki family. Certainly, you must also be aware that members of the nobility handle their affairs internally, outside of Central 48's jurisdiction, unless there is irrefutable evidence of a criminal act perpetrated by a member of nobility." He placed a hand at the small of his sister's back, turning them to continue on their way.

"Your interference can only imply–"

Byakuya spoke over the agent. "Do not believe that I haven't also been building a case of my own, Kurihara Nori. Your superiors would not question my evidence of harassment, stalking, and, now, conspiracy to commit kidnapping." He threw a final look over his shoulder. "Do not approach my family again. Rukia has threatened your life, and I promise to ensure your end is long and painful."

Rukia smirked at the man who fell to the ground, his shaking legs unable to hold him in the face of her and her brother's threats. Spitefully, she pulsed her reiatsu and watched the worm squirm in the dirt, scrambling away from the noble siblings. "I believe Kurihara has regained some clarity, Nii-sama, and sees the error of his ways. Goodbye, Kurihara, I doubt I will meet you again."

---

The siblings made their way to the estate, the winter sun warming their cheeks. Rukia glanced to the side of the road and pointed out the abandoned property as they passed. "Nii-sama, do you know who owns that house?"

Byakuya glanced at it. "I can make an inquiry." He took in the still-broken shutters, the plant life covering the façade, and the way the wind whistled as it blew through the upper level. "Though I must admit, I cannot understand the appeal."

"It'll take a little time," Rukia smiled. She allowed herself to imagine the twins rolling in the front garden and Ichigo greeting her from the engawa with a smart word and a teasing grin, "but I'll fix it."

---

A/N: *cha chas in, real smooth* hello, fellow IchiRukis, long time no see... I was definitely one of those hit hard creatively by the pandemic, and I'm just thankful to the wonderful folks over at the IchiRuki Secret Basement Discord for getting me back on track with this fic! Hope you liked it, please yell at me in the reviews about your feelings *cha chas back out, this time with finger guns*

Part four/conclusion coming... eventually. Love y'all! Stay safe out there! 3