A/N: This is like the first serious genre story I have ever written but I will try to put in more humor. This story was meant to be a really long one-shot but I can't wait to share the prologue with you guys haha but don't worry I am seriously working on this and really excited about this plot and alternate universe, so I promise the updates won't take long, it will probably be about three chapters story.

And I know I mostly write stories in Ichigo's POV but I am experimenting with Rukia. And while I am sure you guys who have been following my stories know too well that I am a HUGE fan of our queen, in this story, you'll see that she is not perfect and she makes mistakes too. I really, really hope you are excited about this as much as I am. Enjoy reading :))

It had been 15 minutes. Or maybe more. Maybe it was 30 minutes. Rukia couldn't tell. It was like time stood still, and everything stopped. Her legs were shaking so much that she had to sit down on her fancy bathroom floor and gripped her bath up for support. If there were a Guinness book record of how long people could stay unblinking, Rukia was sure she could carve her name on it. Her hands were shaking, and her stomach felt funny. She dropped the pregnancy stick, and her left hand went to her belly like a protective instinct.

There were two red lines on it.

Two weeks later, she found herself staring, again, unblinking to the USG monitor on her left. Nanao's finger was making circle on something so tiny and, "and... that's your little baby right there." There was a sac. And a tiny bump in it. The fetal pole, her beautiful OB/GYN friend, said. It looked nothing like a baby, but Nanao was positive they were there, and the baby had a heartbeat. Nanao was smiling, although the apparent worry in her eyes could not lie. "Rukia, you're pregnant."

Rukia was speechless for a little while. No. She couldn't. "But... but how?" The raven-haired only said. And there it was again, the funny feeling in her stomach.

Nanao sighed. "We did biology in high school, and I know you know how-"

Rukia did not need her feminist friend's sassiness right now. "No, God, Nanao, I just couldn't be..." she tried to find the words. "...pregnant," she added. The word rolled strangely on her tongue.

"I can't," Rukia was brave. Being raised a Kuchiki, nothing terrified her, and nothing overwhelmed her, and she almost never cried in her life, but now, "My gynaecologist, like a year ago, confirmed it for me." She said. And Nanao held her shaking hands. "...said that it would take a miracle." Her voice was low and almost cracked, but a Kuchiki should never cry. And all her life, Rukia was trying hard, too hard to live up to the expectations of being a good Kuchiki, so she never did. She never cried.

The older OB/GYN's hands were now on Rukia's cheeks, holding her face. Rukia knew Nanao was a lot of things but never soft. She wiped the tears Rukia did not even know had fallen. She whispered, "then there it is," and Rukia finally realized she was crying and crying hard she was, letting it all out. Nanao hugged her and held her and smiled, almost crying, too "your little miracle."

But Rukia had never cried. Not when she found out that her sister had left her when she was a baby. Not when her friends in the orphanage bullied her because she was different, because a wealthy family chose her when she was five. Not when she had to part with Renji, her only childhood best friend. Not when the Kuchikis put so much pressure on her and never made her feel she belonged. Not when she left him when she chose to go to a university on the opposite side of the world. Not when she was told that she could never have children. Not when she decided to leave him again and hurt him and broke his heart and hers too in the process, a year ago.

Rukia never cried and showed any emotions. And she was deemed cold-hearted or even heartless because of that.

But now, as Nanao hugged her tight and made assuring caresses on her back, her Kuchiki facade cracked. She let it all out. Years of suppressed heartaches, anger, frustration, self-hate, and blame never made her like this. Then why was she crying now? Was this what people talked about, the pregnancy hormones?

As she sobbed and cried, and cried, and clutched at Nanao's white coat like her life depended on it, Rukia knew, for all the things she had been through, the very first time she finally cried, they were happy tears.

Rukia was many things. She had a striving career in diplomatic and international relations in the ministry of foreign affairs. She was good at her job, and she travelled the world because of it. In her spare time, Rukia and her girlfriends were also heads of a female-oriented non-profit organization that focuses on empowering women from all over the world, ultimately the developing and low-income countries, helping them shape their small businesses, especially divorced women and single moms being breadwinners in the family (Rukia got this), advocating against sexual harassment and women's rights (thanks to having a fantastic lawyer in their side, Tatsuki), maternal and child health (they had an OB/GYN on board, Nanao), and also their dedicated secretary, Momo, and Rangiku and Orihime, their model and actress friends as the brand ambassador.

She was one of Kuchiki Company's shareholders and the owner of one of the most luxurious and expensive apartments in Tokyo, even though she was rarely there. And she was the holder of Japan Airlines and All Nippon gold card, thanks to countless flights she had to take in a year. She had five branches of cake and bakery shops, and she also had five branches of an animal shelter all over Japan.

And yes, she was also the proud mother of an orange furred Persian with a flat nose named Kon.

So, yeah, Kuchiki Rukia was a lot of things.

But she was also not many things. All her life, she had been told that she had failed to live up to the expectations of being a Kuchiki because she was not a noble by blood. And blood could not lie, her aunt said. And thus, she was also deemed not worthy of holding a share percentage of her billionaire's family mega business. Her uncles and aunts also made sure she was not worthy of being married off to the upper-class noblemen. Just marry her to the lower classmen, her aunts and uncles had said. And Rukia did not say anything. She had lost her voice for so long in that family that she never bothered to find it again. Rukia turned on deaf ears and grew extremely cold to her distant relatives. She did not care that her family was furious that she did not major in business but got international foreign affairs. She did not care that she was now 29 and had not got married (most noblewomen got married so young).

Rukia had lived most of her life feeling different and not belonged. She did not act like most girls. She was tomboyish, not at all girlish. When she was a kid, when boys approached, as other girls giggled, Rukia glared. When other girls wanted to play with dolls, Rukia liked to climb the tree. When her girlfriends did cheerleaders, Rukia practised kendo. When her teenage girlfriends started falling in love, having crushes, talking about boys, Rukia lived most of her life in her family big mansion, taking extra classes, piano, violin, cello, English, French, Spanish, manner and etiquette classes, family dinners. She rarely went out, overwhelmed by the obligation to please her family.

And she had difficulties making friends. Maybe because she was a Kuchiki. She was deemed different and out of everyone's reach, and she transferred a lot because of her brother's business, and it had always been hard to make friends that way.

All her life, Rukia always felt she was alone. And different.

Rukia thought she did not believe in love. She did not want to get married, deeply traumatized by her childhood and family. She never knew a mother's warm embraces and a father's love. But she knew lonely kids in the orphanage who had been left abandoned by their own parents. She knew that most adults were not worth being called parents, neglecting and abandoning their babies in front of some poor orphanage's doors. She knew some mothers gave birth to unwanted children (this was also what drove her to create their organization to empower women, make them stronger, and for their children).

So then, at the age of 15, when her girlfriends started talking nonsense about first love, boys, dream wedding and all, Rukia decided she would never get married. And she did not want kids. She did not hate kids. She just thought she would never have what it takes to be a good mother someday. And no, she did not want to think about having a child that would be born into this noble house. As she was scolded repeatedly in her etiquette classes because she did not sip her teacup right, 15-year-old Rukia thought, she never wanted any poor children to experience things like she did.

Years of loneliness did wonder to her. Rukia grew cold. And acted like no one, and nothing mattered to her. The heartless, cold, ice queen everyone talked about. Although, it was painfully ironic since she was actually the most caring person to the people closest to her. She cared. A lot. Her loneliness improved when she moved to the US, far away from her distant relatives, and met people who knew her by heart, like her best friends, Rangiku and Nanao, who let her experience what she never did amidst her loneliness. But then, they had to be taken away from her, too, as she had to move back to Karakura due to her sister's illness.

Rukia was crushed. Moving back to Japan meant she had to face those lonely mansion halls again. She was fed up being a different transfer student. An outcast, not belonged, different. Although the thought of reuniting with Renji again made her at ease.

But that was before, before she grew older and wiser, and started to realize that she did, love children and she wanted to be a mother, so a year ago to the current timeline, when her OB/GYN told her that she could never have children, Rukia, now older, and wiser, had to feel it all over again again. She was different, not like any other women, that she was a let down to the people closest to her.

Kuchiki Rukia was not a lot of things.

As Nanao drove her to the meeting place the girls had decided, a cafe in Tokyo, about 8 km from Nanao's hospital, Rukia looked at the window. Her head was all over the place. And yet, she reminisced how things got here.

Her story began at the age of 16 when she met him. Like his bright hair, he was like a warm summer in her winter, cold life.

AN: So... guess who the father is (and the "him" I keep mentioning) hahah XD. Please, please tell me what you think, they really encourage me to write more :D