"Something on your mind?"
Rukia stirred a little, her shoulders slumping. She sat atop one of the neverending sand dunes overlooking a pit ringed with lesser Hollows observing another pair fight it out. If at all possible, she hunched her body tighter. She had been trying unsuccessfully for the past few days to push it out of her mind. That...whatever it was. She had half a mind to throw herself into training and forget the whole thing. But...
"Not talkative today?" Soujun hovered closer, offering her refreshment in the form of a stone bowl of cool water.
She stubbornly avoided his gaze. The atmosphere in Soul Society was tense as they awaited the findings of the team. Her usual partner was gone with a jigokucho sent from Momo herself, having relayed the girl's farewell. Rukia thought she seemed relatively somber, lacking her usual good spirits. Then there was Stark's presence around the city. Rukia couldn't avoid him forever after her careful brushing off of his actions. She could've spent time at the palace, but Ulquiorra's preoccupation with duties left her feeling oddly neglected. So that left her only one place where her mind could feel more at ease.
"Is it always like this?" She said instead, cradling the bowl in her hands. The Hollow smiled thinly, amused. "Why? Do you think they'll eat one another?"
"It's in their nature." Rukia said after a long moment. "I think…well…I've been around some who are different, so I couldn't say."
"Hmmm…what was it like when you and…ah, Ulquiorra coexisted together out here?" Soujun sat next to her, voice alight with curiosity. Rukia turned to watch his semi-humanoid form fold itself down.
No one…has ever asked me that. "What can I say? I thought he was going to consume my soul. I didn't know any better so what else could I expect?"
"He is…different. Unique if that could be said among my race. Coyote Stark or Stark Gingerback however he prefers to call himself, tried to kill me on your behalf."
Her eyes widened slightly. Stark had dominated her thoughts since that night. The way his lips felt on hers, the way she had sensed his lie and within the lie, disappointment. She felt it in all the wrong ways, pinching herself hard whenever she caught herself looking for his slouching figure. "That's understandable, Stark thinks of me as part of his pack." Rukia grumbled, disclaiming any idea of deeper feelings on the part of the absent Espada.
Soujun grunted, gaze fixated on the reflection he made in the cup. "The Cuatro did nothing…on the surface, his nihilism saw nothing of worth in your being. I get the sense he tries to hide it when he feels the same way about you that Gingerback does. He decided to use me to find you and barring your survival, tear me apart. It's nice to know their weakness is you."
She straightened her shoulders, looking the Hollow square in his visible blue eye. "I'm no one's weakness."
"I'm not saying you're weak." He said easily, brushing off her hostility with a quiet laugh. "You're in over your head, Rukia, and you don't even realize it." Before she could respond something waspish, his hand - his very human like hand was ruffling her hair. The words remained lodged in her throat. Very few had ever done something so...so gentle. Maybe Kaien, but his rough hand had been like a noogie to the head.
Rukia tried to hide her sudden choked up silence by averting her face.
"You should be careful. There's something going on in the living world."
She opened her mouth to speak. Momo leapt to mind immediately. Soujun's hand lifted slowly, amusement fading.
"My scouts reported a disturbance - something which makes even them afraid."
Hours later, Rukia had showered and changed into a fresh uniform.
"Are you certain it's safe?"
The question surprised her and flustered her. She supposed a blasé response might seem rude. "I can take care of myself." Rukia said quietly, discarding the spiel about a warrior's pride. It wasn't every day that Ulquiorra spoke of her personal safety. She was glad that when she returned to Las Noches, he had finished his assignments.
"I'm not weak." Her heart felt lighter knowing that they had the whole evening ahead of them.
"I am aware." He touched her shoulder, fingers curling around a lock of loose hair. "Chryse has others who follow his banner of unity."
Oh, she understood now. "The threat might not be him." She didn't want to think of Byakuya's father as a threat. The others were fairly nondescript Adjuchas with razor sharp instincts. She bit her lip, consternated. Aizen hadn't restricted her on goings on in Soul Society. Other than Stark knowing a little of the inner workings, she doubted very much he would see fit to speak to anyone outside of Lilynette.
"Something else is going on in the living world." Rukia said haltingly. "Aizen believes it stems from Hell."
The Espada's brow furrowed slightly, the only change of emotion in his countenance.
"I'm not familiar with the word."
"No, you wouldn't be. Not even Soul Society speaks of it outside of textbooks." She resumed brushing her damp hair. "Only the very worst of human souls are condemned to eternal torture by huge skeletal guards called Kushanada. These souls are called sinners, murderers, unrepentant tormentors of the innocent. If they were to find a way into the living world, I shudder to think of the consequences."
"Aizen-sama is looking into this?"
"He's keeping an eye on the situation. But,…"
"What is it?"
She couldn't bring Hinamori into the conversation. Ulquiorra wouldn't understand her concern, rather he might consider Momo a weakness. "I might be called to fight," she said instead. "If the rumors are true." She didn't want to think of Aizen's illusory projections or how he might test her resolve in battle. They looked at one another and he touched her face.
"Nothing will happen to you."
She wished she was the kind of girl who clung onto useless promises. Ulquiorra couldn't always be there for her. Rukia's pride as a warrior threatened to rear up again. "I know." She covered the back of his hand with her own, noting the contrast of his paper white skin. "I won't let it." She silently vowed. Or let anything happen to the people I care about again.
"I can be strong enough for both of us. If you'll let me."
Momo felt like a fish out of water. She had seen the phrase in a book at Karakura High School. The gigai fit her the way a second skin would, uncomfortable and necessary. With her mixed assortment of books, paper and pens haphazardly gathered at the end of the bell ringing, she walked past happier girls - living girls, chattering much like Rukia and herself, clustered in groups in the schoolyard.
She missed Rukia. She missed her Taichou and her old friends from her academy days.
At the edge of the gate where the shadows lengthened for winter's midday, a tall, stocky figure in black hovered beyond, waiting. She lifted her eyes, startled, recognizing the description of maroon hair and slight frown. No one else saw him…no, she was wrong. An orange-haired girl with a large bosom glanced at the Shinigami, breaking away from a cluster of other girls.
Inoue, the surname came to her. Ochi-sensei had called on her to answer a question. Momo kept walking as if nothing was wrong.
When she was close enough to murmur a greeting without much threat of being overheard, she felt another stare on her, this time the owner was no other than Kurosaki Ichigo, Deputy Shinigami. Ichigo hung around a group of young humans, who laughed and talked around him, his scowl and bright hair made him stand out.
He knew what her presence signified other than the generalized report that had filtered down to Kano about an investigation.
"Kano-san, if you'll please collect Kurosaki-san and have him…"
They met atop a flat gravel-laden roof at the edge of town. A few pigeons scattered in flight sensing a disturbance in the spiritual energy surrounding them.
Momo felt childish in the grey pleated skirt and matching jacket. She fidgeted with her clasped hands until Kano prompted her to speak.
"Soul Society has taken note of the rash of unusual high-level spirits entering Karakura Town." Her soft voice held a firm authoritative note that failed to make her feel in charge. "They've sent myself and a few others to investigate these occurrences. We've…never been acquainted before, Kurosaki-san. I am Hinamori Momo, fukutaichou of Fifth Division."
"Che! Figures they would late in the game." Kurosaki groused bitterly. "Hina-whatever, stay the hell out of my way if you know what's good for you."
"Kurosaki-"
But, he was gone, his shunpo faster than she expected. Kano glanced at her apologetically. "You must understand, Hinamori-fukutaichou, Ichigo doesn't like interference especially when he considers Karakura proper his backyard."
What - no honorific? She almost said something before remembering Toshiro. Apparently her childhood friend was rubbing off on her a bit too much.
"It also happens to be within Soul Society's jurisdiction." Momo said sharper than she meant. A moment later she realized she was also picking up on Rukia's mannerisms. "Kurosaki needs to learn we all answer to a higher power."
"I'm sure he knows that you're just doing your duty." Kano said patiently and not without a touch of smugness. Hinamori belatedly recalled he likely had experienced the same runaround with his superiors.
"So what's going on, really?"
"Well…," she recalled Aizen-Taichou's warnings to be careful. He had let slip more in a scroll placed discreetly into the bag of her belongings. The scrap of paper hadn't amounted to much except his suspicions. Still, the fact that he cared to share them with her made her heart warm in a way she didn't want to think about. "There are some who think the Hell dimension is involved."
Kano didn't pretend to know what she was talking about. "Hell? I thought it was a myth or legend designed to scare us reapers."
"No," she wished it was. "I'm sorry it isn't, Kano-san." Then, she filled him in on Aizen's suspicions. At the end of which, Kano ran his hand through the maroon spikes of his hair distractedly. "Why haven't they done something more to secure the living world? I don't mean to disparage you," he said chagrined. She smiled a little. "I wish they'd sent your fukutaichou, Rukia-san, with me. Rukia's so brave and strong, I'd feel much better if she was here to help us figure it out."
"Kuchiki Rukia…you know her?" Kano had a strange look on his face.
"We're friends. You know we attend meetings together and train pretty often." Momo had finally gotten up enough nerve to show off her sword's shikai the last time they'd seen each other. Despite Rukia's shikai power being ice, Momo had felt better with her reiryoku-based zanpaku-to. "Rukia's amazing to have returned after fifty years missing. I'm in awe of her actually."
"She was missing?" Kano sounded like he didn't know the whole story.
"Actually, kind of like you." Momo explained, conscious of the sun setting in the distance; Kano's intensity likely came from loneliness, but he wasn't difficult to talk with. "She went missing after Shiba-fukutaichou's death. I knew of him a little by reputation. It was all very sad what happened to him." She disliked sad things, making a face as Kano digested her words.
"Where was Kuchiki-san? Did she ever say?"
"I'm…I'm not sure." Momo didn't have all the details and was sensitive enough not to pry. Rukia wasn't terribly forthcoming on her past - not that Momo held it against her. "Kuchiki-Taichou - her ah…adopted brother smoothed things over when she returned so I wouldn't be in possession of any details."
Both lapsed into mutual silence.
"I imagine what she went through was truly awful." Momo ventured to say.
"Why is that?" Kano asked sharply.
"She was there when Shiba-fukutaichou died." Momo refused to credit the rumors insofar as Hisagi-sempai went. "They say she ran away to atone for her being unable to save him."
The tension was palpable in Soul Society. Stark likened it to the tense snap before the break. His skin prickled. He disliked it - whatever it was. Ukitake was on edge and could be seen reading reports from Research and Development who were monitoring the situation closely. Stark shaded his brow, scanning the streets. At least the rain stopped. Thoughts of the rain brought her mind. Stark tried not to think of the midget with her too tough exterior. Rukia could take care of herself and then some in all this. Deliberately, shaking his head to clear it, Stark began to eye places for a nap where he was unlikely to be disturbed.
Kotetsu, one half of the Thirteenth Division Third seats, had begun involving him in her quest to outdo Kotsubaki. He thought she might've taken a shine to him - to borrow words from Kyoraku who sometimes came to visit Ukitake. While he gauged the foppish man as someone to be wary of, he stayed well away from the pair lest he draw suspicion for dawdling. See Rukia, I can be careful too. His triumphant thought brought her to mind again. Although this was only a minor irritation.
Stark finally chose a low lying branch sturdy enough to support his weight. The sun had warmed the bark and filtered in dappled through the foliage. Bracing his arms behind his head, he drifted off into a light sleep disturbed only by a sudden fluctuation of energy in the surrounding vicinity. Stark became aware of agitation. From his vantage point, he could see a great distance away.
Something seemed to be happening. He closed his eyes quickly, probing to see if his dulled senses picked up Rukia anywhere nearby. Relieved, he couldn't feel her - she could've been deployed to the living world, but he was sure Aizen would've seen to it that she wasn't on the frontlines.
She was finally asleep.
Ulquiorra remained sitting at the small table a while longer. From his vantage point he could comfortably observe her sleeping form. Rukia slept on her side, her face pressed into the page of her latest and greatest drawing. They'd talked after sharing a small meal together, about the growing strength of the Numeros. Ulquiorra filled in what he knew of Rudbornn Chelute. The solitary Hollow appeared to disdain the company of the others, preferring to challenge would-be threats on his own. Ulquiorra had also observed on a number of occasions, Chelute showed flagrant disobedience to the former Tercera.
A shadow crossed Rukia's face when he mentioned it. Her disappointment was great at being unable to thus far pull together a cohesive fighting force to defend the fortress. He could see where her concepts of guardianship were informed by Soul Society's rigid hierarchical system and how she failed to see the Hollows under Aizen's command wouldn't so easily be molded into shape. But things like that made her upset. Rukia could argue long and hard about the need to work together when it was just as foreign to a Hollow.
So he said nothing for now.
It was far better to let her see the error of her ways. Chelute chafed under the lesser of the species's commands. Once he came into direct conflict with Rukia...Ulquiorra was interested to see how she would handle insubordination. Those thoughts aside, he studied her more in depth. She was soundly asleep. He could discern her quiet breathing followed by an occasional grumble.
He was reminded of another time, what surely must've constituted years before when they were in the desert. She had fallen asleep then too, footsore and wearied. He had been obliged to carry her some distance or otherwise leave behind his unusual burden. Ulquiorra remembered the monotony of the quiet walk beneath the moon how the sand crunched under his clawed feet, shifting under their combined weight. He remembered nothing else, just walking in silence until his own quiet gasp broke the stillness. Far up ahead were crystalline structures vaguely familiar to him as quartz trees. Their roots formed the ceiling of Menos Forest where none of her kind tread or so he believed until the lost Shinigami. These trees were familiar to him from the long ago time before he met her. He had seen these pure white trees, experiencing a kind of kinship with their purposeless existence.
Then he met her.
They weren't far from the place where they first met, from the moment when his curiosity with the creature so far from their own place of belonging intruded into his solitude. He saw the trees again, the sensation of familiarity washed over him. There was something almost magnificent in their starkness. But he didn't go to them. He didn't become one with them.
She made a sound just then. A most annoying sound of when her breathing was partially obstructed. They were barely starting to trust one another. She trusted him that little bit to sleep soundly as she did now and so he walked past those crystalline trees bathed in moonlight.
Ulquiorra considered leaving her there but then decided against it. She would rest better in her bed. So coming to this course of action, he got to his feet and went around the table. Rukia lay slumped over the cushioned bench she had pulled up to the table. Ulquiorra turned her over carefully, lifting her upper body up into his chest. As he did so, he glanced down at the part of the drawing previously obscured by her face.
Her cartoonish drawings were very nearly rubbish but saying something to that effect, would make her angry. Ulquiorra noted the drawing unlike her previous ones didn't depict some approximation of them. It was someone else. The tree, the sun and...they looked happy. He didn't understand happiness, but he could detect it somehow in her drawing.
Stiffer in posture than before, he carried her to her room. Rukia didn't wake up, grumbling under her breath about sand. He left her there, lightly covered by a top blanket, then for some reason he could barely understand himself, he returned to the drawing.
Was it the color?
Rukia used bright greens, vivid yellows and a dark earthy brown for the Espada's hair. Ulquiorra knew it was Stark even with the ridiculous cartoony face. He considered leaving it there as she might look for it later yet the stray thought returned. This was their time, their place away from the other Espada. He preferred to think of it as a place where duty was left at the door. He had sacrificed much to have this place and she was still thinking of someone else.
"Rubbish." He said quietly, crumpling it up. He disposed of it along with the remnants of their plates. The servant would come eventually and take the trays. Ulquiorra retrieved his sword, fastening the teal zanpakuto to his black sash. He rarely if ever chose to associate himself with the lower forms of life inhabiting the training grounds, but he no longer felt like resting.
"Do you dream?"
She had passed a mostly idyllic afternoon in the palace. Rarely was she ever so lazy. Rukia's lips curled into a faint smile. She had polished her zanpakuto until the black sheath shone. She had seen to duties in the west end of Las Noches, ensuring the Privaron Espada were well situated. Dordonii had a flamboyant attitude she didn't think she would ever get used to while Cirucci talked her down, treating her like a small insect trapped in her web.
"Sometimes."
In all her afterlife, she couldn't have imagined a moment when she would be asking a Hollow about his dreams. He knew her well enough that one question inevitably followed another. Her need to know and understand, just another nebulous part of her.
"I'm walking."
He was in the other room.
"On and on with no end in sight."
Rukia lay sprawled across her bed, scrawling bunnies in white shihakusho on a sheet of white paper. Her colored pencil point stopped on the moon in the Hueco Mundo sky.
"I have no purpose. I don't know what I am or where I'm going." He sounded as if he might stop, hide away that revealing part of himself. Rukia tore at her bottom lip so hard tears sprang to her eyes.
"Are you lonely?"
"No, I don't know what loneliness is. I'm walking - on and on…and then I wake up."
Her pencil tip broke. She had pushed down on it hard. The yellow point rolled in a half-circle. She waited for him to say more only for the silence to last unbroken. Rukia listened for the tell-tale movements, the swish of his coattails. Something physical to let her know he was there.
Suddenly afraid of nameless fears, she sprang to her feet, bare heels stinging from kissing the cold floor. She dashed heedlessly into the other room -
Rukia started awake with her own shout of his name throttling in her throat. Instantly, she swallowed it, her dry mouth opening and closing a few times. She remembered where she was. Bits and pieces of memory came back to her. Dinner. Drawing. She slowly sat up, realizing she'd been carried to her room. Rukia didn't have to cast her senses out far to feel that Ulquiorra wasn't nearby. She must've been asleep for a while.
Stretching her arms up over her head, she yawned widely. It was easy to lose track of time in Hueco Mundo. Rukia glanced around, scooting to the edge of the bed. As she started to look around for a suitable pair of footwear, she felt a familiar electrical charge ripple through the air. Someone had activated synchronized consciousness. It could be anything, she reminded herself, feeling her heart rate accelerate.
When Tosen spoke, his grave tones were addressed to her.
"One of the survey members sent to the living world has met an unfortunate end. Soul Society's on high alert now-"
She stood up quickly, snatching a simple pair of sandals and a spare shihakusho from the wardrobe.
"Who was it?" She asked worriedly.
He hesitated a beat longer which caused her to fear the worst. "It was a squad member of no consequence. Aizen-sama seems to believe the attack was meant to draw attention away from Karakura Town."
She paused in dressing, thinking that was very like them to trivialize true death. "So he thinks another attack is likely to follow, but this one worse."
"Yes."
She huffed as she fastened her sash. Aizen was playing with lives but even he was worried about this new enemy. If she knew Soul Society's response at all, they'd concentrate more forces where the first attack happened and leave the outerlying, less important area of Karakura unguarded. She suddenly had a very bad feeling about what it all portended
"I'm going now."
After a moment, Tosen seemed resigned to his part as well. "So will I. I'll give the order to the Cuatro and Oderschvank to be extra vigilant in our absence."
"Right." She murmured to the empty room. The peculiar sensation she associated with the synchronization faded. Ulquiorra and Nel Tu...the pair were like night and day in demeanor. She began to wish she'd warned Soujun to stay away from the living world.
The news reached her late night. Momo listened to the message left on her soul pager, tucked away in the small loft they'd procured for her. Below the narrow staircase was a small room with a kitchen against the back wall and a tiny closet-like bathroom. Momo wondered if her seated position earned her a room and not a bunk bed with loud members of the squad they'd sent.
Once the message was over, she tucked her legs in closer to her chest. The higher ups urged her to move on, suggesting Kurosaki could handle his small town. While not a direct order, the implications were clear. They didn't believe Karakura was in danger. Momo somehow doubted their judgment.
Things did seem to happen around Kurosaki, but she couldn't put her finger on why. Then there was Kano and his strange reaction to Rukia's story. Almost as if he knew something more about her past. But that was crazy! Rukia was in Soul Society and Kano had been...lost. She didn't know much about him outside of popular talk among her squadmates. Momo had begun to think too, that much of their talk was based off of gossip. Sighing over her indignant feelings, she supposed she needed to get some rest. Kano would be disappointed of course that the town was losing support, but that could be dealt with when she saw him next.
Fragments of the dream floated hazily through her head the longer she tried to close her eyes in the cool darkness of her room in the Kuchiki mansion. The sketch pad. The monotonous picture his words created of an eternal walk taken in solitude. He never met me. The last thing she remembered was bursting into an empty room.
It was a dream or a nightmare. Rukia tried unsuccessfully to put it out of her mind. Things were happening in living world. Someone ceased to exist. Aizen and Tosen were unsurprised by the slaying almost as if they'd expected this new foe to be deadlier than any other. But then, Aizen had suspected something to be amiss right away. She was forced to admit he was right again, no matter how much she loathed to see it. Soul Society had underestimated the situation and someone ultimately paid the price. Next time, she thought furiously, it could be her friend.
Finally, she couldn't stand herself anymore. Rising and throwing on a purple yukata, she draped a shawl around her shoulders and found straw sandals kicked into a corner on the veranda outside her room. Careful to not arouse the attentions of the night guard lightly stationed around the compound, Rukia slipped out into Seireitei proper, her steps quick, furtive until she reached familiar streets.
Rukia wasn't sure what she fully intended on doing. Resuming a goodnight's sleep beneath the roof of her adopted brother seemed impossible. She couldn't forget Byakuya's suspicions concerning Ulquiorra. Was it a warning perhaps? His voice and the shock of the empty room ran in circles in her mind. At length, she tried thinking up ways to distract herself - fighting with the selfish desire to return to Las Noches just to make sure he was physically present and hadn't disappeared again.
She needed to keep being a good Shinigami and stay put, waiting for the crisis in the living world to resolve itself. The same thing the paragons of virtue, the Shinigami had done for centuries. That was just it. She was pretending all was well. Rukia shook her head trying to clear it of her bitter thoughts. It wouldn't do to appear ungrateful at her station. Reluctantly, her feet turned toward the Thirteenth Division.
If she was going to be sleepless, she might as well catch up on paperwork that Kiyone and Sentaro frequently neglected.
"Oh!" The quiet gasp caused his glance to slide upward. The half-filled cup of tea partially raised to his lips. Stark sat with his long legs stretched out beside a low square table piled high with papers. A few oil lamps had been lit in the common room suffusing the area with a faint yellow light.
"You're working late." In Rukia's tone, he caught the warmth of pleasure. She was too sure of herself to stand there awkwardly for long.
"Yeah, well, Kotetsu asked me." He set the cup down. "New uniform?" She wore a purple flowered yukata tied with a yellow sash. The color brought out the flecks of violet in her eyes.
"I dressed in a hurry." She shrugged off his amusement, crossing the room to flop down across the table, within reach. "I…I…couldn't sleep." Something was bothering her, he could sense it. Wordlessly, he gestured to the pot of tea. Mutely, Rukia shook her head. She wasn't thirsty or anything for that matter. She was empty, feeling as devoid of life as in the dream.
"Kiyone?" She took a second look at the closest sheet. It was an order list for bokken and uniforms.
"She's been pestering me lately. I thought it would seem…odd if I turned her down."
"She's taken a shine to you." Rukia said trying to smile. The curve of her lips felt strange, out of place. She didn't feel right. She wasn't happy about it or even remotely amused. Rukia refused to puzzle over it, putting it down to unease. Kiyone never showed an interest in anything other than one-upping Kotsubaki. Outside of this general knowledge around Thirteenth Division, Rukia knew very little about her. If Kiyone only knew behind Stark's meat suit...,
He grunted something noncommittal, resuming reading. Without lowering the paper, he commented. "What is it?"
"What's what?"
"You're too quiet."
"I don't have to be loud all the time." Rukia muttered defensively.
"No, but you're not you, otherwise."
Her lips parted and before she knew it, she had repeated in whispers, her dream. Stark had hardly said a word, never interrupting her recitation. If his eyes hadn't been trained on her, she might've believed him to be sleeping sitting up.
"So you think something's going to happen to him?"
"It felt real."
"But, you're here."
"I know it wasn't real! And besides...he can take care of himself." She snapped, unable to explain away her anxiety, put it down to nervous tension in Soul Society. It felt like a warning from something or someone. She toyed with the edge of the paper in front of her, adding quieter. "He's a warrior like us. I'd insult his pride...if I worried over him."
"Why?"
She shook her head realizing he didn't understand. Stark operated under the wolf pack mentality. His need for companionship made him think of safeguarding someone he considered close to him. Not for the first time she recalled Soujun's comments about Stark trying to kill him before out of revenge.
"I'll stay here..." She tried to smirk but it felt all wrong on her face. "Burn the midnight oil."
"Then I'll stay too."
No, no.
"Kotetsu made me pinky promise to finish this paperwork." He said blandly as if it was the most important promise in the world. Rukia imagined his big hand and Kiyone's small one locking pinky fingers, barely suppressing the tiny giggle that threatened to escape.
She grinned instead, hopping up to her feet. "I'll make us tea."
"There is tea."
"I said fresh tea. Are you challenging your superior?
He held up his hands up. "Never."
Rukia propped her hand on her hip. "Good."
He finished the last of the paperwork just as the rosy fingers of dawn crept over the white spires of the court of pure souls. Stark felt his burden shift, thinking bemusedly their positions had switched. Rukia was the one who fell asleep and he stayed awake. He looked down to where her head was pillowed on his wide lap. She slept loudly not unlike his other half, snoring open-mouthed, grumbling under her breath. Once he thought he heard her mutter orders, but then he wasn't sure.
It was just like her to be dreaming of work.
A thin wisp of a smile crossed his face. Stark stacked the last of the files together beside the nearly empty ink blotter. Rukia had kept up with him for a few hours until her eyes had grown quite heavy. She had fought off her stress induced sleep until she could fight no more. Stark hefted her up in his arms now, unsurprised to find her relatively light. He paused only to ensure the oil lamps had burned through their fuel before taking her to the room reserved for her in Thirteenth's barracks.
Stark settled her in quietly, tucking the blanket around her body. He was glad for the lack of fuss, imagining the reactions of some of the more excitable squad members if they'd seen him carrying her.
"It don't mean a thing." He said, glancing over his shoulder to ensure there were no visible signs of his presence left behind. Satisfied that there wasn't, he headed for his favorite tree to catch some shut-eye.
She caught up to Kano observing a quiet thoroughfare. It was past the time when she was supposed to attend school but she didn't care much. The order was more or less to move out from the town and into Tokyo's Shibuya district. Momo hadn't seen a great deal of Karakura, but what she had glimpsed was a little of Kurosaki's dedication to protecting his hometown.
"I've come to say goodbye." She said when Kano appeared to take notice of her. He grunted noncommittally, glancing at her.
"Can I ask you something?"
She shrugged slightly, uncertain as to his sudden curiosity.
"You said you were friends with Kuchiki-fukutaichou." Kano said slowly and Momo began to worry about where this was leading. "What kind of person is she?"
"What do you mean?" She could see he had thought about it a great deal. His haunted expression deepened her belief that something had happened between him and Rukia.
"Is she trustworthy?"
She stared at him, subtly offended he would question his superior's worthiness. Yes, there were gaps in Rukia's story but they could be explained away by trauma. Before she could answer, something rippled like a frisson of energy through the atmosphere. Her soul pager buzzed angry from the pocket of her skirt. Kano shot her a look and vanished from sight. She almost thought he meant to tell her to stay back. Men! She popped the gikongan into her mouth. In seconds, the soul separator had done its magic. "Go hide." Momo ordered her gigai. The strangeness of seeing her mirror image dressed in human clothes assailed her.
"Yes, Hinamori-fukutaichou!" The wide-eyed girl wearing her face scampered off. Momo sighed, wishing the others hadn't been sent to Tokyo. If it was something serious, she'd have to rely on Kano and Kurosaki to hold off the threat. Now wasn't the time to hesitate. Sending a message to the other members of her team via soul pager, Momo set off, running across rooftops.
Something was wrong. She could feel it in the air. An electrical charge crackled painfully against her skin and there was a smell…sulfurous, cloying blowing on the west wind. Momo drew her zanpakuto coming in sight of the Kurosaki clinic. Kurosaki dueled with a cloaked human-like figure. Momo had almost expected a high level Hollow.
Nearby, Kano tangled with another. Both were masked, wielding swords of flame. Throwing a quick look to Kurosaki, she went to assist Kano. Neither man paid her much attention. Momo went in for the spirit's blind spot, her blade cutting air. So fast. She wasn't prepared for the blast of fire punted her way.
Heat washed over her face - but suddenly Kano was there, deflecting the majority of it with a spinning twist of his dull, chipped sword.
"Stay out of my way." He deflected the next blow, aiming a well-placed Hado blast in the face of the masked attacker. Momo watched in amazement as his mask shattered revealing the face of a man. Her gratitude fell by the wayside of shock. Before she could come up with a snappy comeback reminiscent of Rukia, the sky darkened like a passing cloud had obscured the sun. A large tear appeared in the dimensional wall of the world. From within the slice of lurid red light the opening emitted, something impossibly huge and hideous moved. Kano shunpo'd to her side immediately, grabbing her arm. Momo barely felt him, her eyes were fixated on the huge grasping fingers devoid of flesh that emerged, groping blindly for the suddenly screaming spirit. Kano pulled her with him to a safe distance just as the hand made contact with their attacker.
"What was that?!" She exclaimed, horrified.
The massive skeletal hand had vanished into the ripped dimensional gap, dragging the screaming male with it. The other spirit who had fought Kurosaki, had disappeared as well. Kano hovered near her, pale, shaken. "I don't know. I've never seen anything that huge!" Then, quieter almost to himself. "Not even the Gillians in Menos Forest."
She hoped she hadn't heard right. As Momo's mind struggled to compile an image of scale, they both heard Kurosaki's shout from below.
"Karin? Yuzu!"
Kano scowled suddenly. "Shit!" He shunpo'd down to the sloped tiled rooftop of the clinic where a gaping hole had been made. Momo fumbled to answer her soul pager that rang with a shrill alert.
The first thing she saw were spatial coordinates appearing in multiple areas across Karakura. Horror dawned afresh in her mind. These were breaches into the living world. "Backup!" She called frantically, over the voice of an anonymous Shinigami informing of what she already knew.
Down below, Kurosaki tore through his home searching for his family. In some dim part of Momo's mind, she sympathized with his dedication. Mostly, she was irritated. He turned to her when she landed, with a frenzy burning in his eyes. "I can't find them! Either of them!"
Kano had gone over the perimeter quickly with little success. "I'm sorry, Ichigo. It looks like they may have been abducted."
Wordless, the Shinigami sub glared up at the skies. "It was them. When I was distracted…"
"Get a hold of yourself, Kurosaki! We have a situation developing here!" Momo raised her voice a decibel higher. She could feel the sudden arrival of several high spirit pressures. "We'll stay here until someone comes and -" he never looked at her. Not even once before he disappeared in a burst of shunpo.
"Is he always such a bull-headed brat?" The word came from her lips with a vehemence that made her think unwittingly of 'Shiro.
"Pretty sure." Kano seemed to share a slight hint of her frustration. "Ichigo does what he wants…most of the time."
Rukia came awake with a slight start. She was lying on her side, partially covered by a blanket. The sash on her yukata had been loosened for comfort. Someone...likely Stark had carried her to the small relief bunk in the Thirteenth Division barracks. In the plain room devoid of personal effects, Rukia changed into a clean uniform, then traipsed down to the mess hall to get something to eat. While she listened to the idle chatter of the Shinigami around her, she replied to a few nods of respect with vague greetings, ignoring the stares. She had slept late and in the meantime, another incident had occurred.
...and Stark was neglecting his duty to report back to her.
Aizen was locked in meetings while a jigokucho flew through the afternoon haze, searching for her. Rukia extended her hand and the butterfly alighted on her fingertips. In a few moments, she had been brought up to speed.
Hitsugaya and a number of others had volunteered on a relief mission to the living world…meetings were called for upper tier officers. She made haste to the fukutaichou meeting, coloring when Renji's glance passed over her.
"Sorry." She offered little explanation, resuming her impassive Kuchiki front.
Matsumoto and Iba headed the meeting; the latter sent her a sharp reproving look.
"We'll do a quick run through for those late to the gathering." Iba boomed, adjusting his dark shades. "Ahem, Third seat Akon from Research and Development has provided us with a scan of what appears to be a rejection of the veil between realms."
Her brow furrowed as she processed the information. It was uncomfortably familiar.
"We have reason to believe the origin stems from Inoue Orihime, an associate of Karakura's Shinigami deputy."
She nearly gasped. Suppressing her physical reaction, Rukia dug her fingernails into her arms. Now she was sure. It was the same girl who Ulquiorrra had developed…what..? A fixation with temporarily? Her mind couldn't reconcile her Ulquirorra preoccupied with a human girl. An image of the orange-haired teenager appeared in a holograph.
"So you're saying she's allied with them?" Several heads turned in her direction. Rukia was aware of the sharpness of her tone.
"I wouldn't go so far as to accuse complicit engagement." Matsumoto defended mildly. "I know Orihime-chan and she wouldn't voluntarily go along with any kind of evil-doing."
"We'll investigate it further when the team reaches Karakura." Renji said, smoothing over her ruffled feathers.
Rukia's stomach soured. "I-I volunteer too. I can't sit back and wait for news. Besides I have a squad member deployed there." She vaguely referenced Ashido, putting on her best no-nonsense tone.
"No." Iba said immediately. "We have Hinamori on site and Abarai-san has volunteered already. In case of a breach here, we need fukutaichou class to rally the lines."
"But-"
"I'm sure, Kuchiki-Taichou will agree with your judgment, Iba-san." Her former friend's glance said it all. Rukia felt a leaden ball of anger knot up in her stomach. Renji so rarely looked at her that she found his direct gaze almost accusative.
"Kuchiki-san's place is here in Soul Society."
Fool…you don't know my place.
You don't know me or the things I've been through. She kept her head down, leaving the meeting with her head buzzing full of angry words left unsaid. Renji once knew her, sharing with her the stigma of having come from the lowest of the Rukon districts. Rats, scum, dogs, all words used to describe souls from the slums. Renji never understood that in her desire to conform to Byakuya's expectations, she lost part of herself until Kaien brought it back. I'm not wrong, she thought fiercely. Renji was treating her like all the rest who didn't know what it was like to lose someone.
Even now, Renji was placing her out of danger. Like she needed protection. Like she didn't know how to get her hands dirty. What Renji didn't realize was that she wasn't going to lose anyone ever again.
-TBC
AN: Sorry it took so long to update. I'd had the majority of the chapter worked out but got stuck on how to continue. After some brainstorming, I think I know where to take the story now. Thanks for reading :-) on another note, I'll probably go back and fix a few things i.e. honorifics later on when I have more time.
Quite a while before, I received a number of reviews from a Guest reader. I was touched by their comments and especially how they analyzed Rukia's interactions with Ulquiorra and Stark. Thank you, I really appreciate it when people take the time to review :-)
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