Nanao was not surprised to find Rangiku walking up and down the length of her porch trying to sooth a wailing baby to sleep. It was late afternoon and screaming seemed to be Yuki's favorite activity that time of day.
Kin-chan waved to Nanao from the middle of what had once been a very pretty little stream that ran across the length of the captain's garden, but was now mostly an muddy mess thanks to Kin-chan's efforts to connect it to a decorative pond. He had apparently wanted the koi to be able to swim to freedom.
As soon as Aiko saw him she started fighting violently against her mother's hold. "Let go!" she ordered. "Let go! Let go!"
"What do you say?" Nanao demanded, holding onto the squirming girl with an effort.
Aiko stopped fighting abruptly and Nanao was sure she could read her daughter's thoughts written across her face. She was clearly considering whether joining Kinta was worth saying the words Nanao required.
Finally she gave in. "Down, please," she said, looking thoroughly disgusted.
"Of course," Nanao answered, setting Aiko down and cringing inwardly at the destruction that was soon to be wrought on her daughter's clothing. "Play nicely."
Nanao turned to the porch where Rangiku seemed to be having little luck settling Yuki down. "I'll take a turn," she offered, stepping out of her sandals and up onto the porch.
"Please, God," Rangiku groaned, handing over the baby and immediately retreating to collapse on the couch.
It took Nanao nearly half an hour to get the baby to sleep and by then her mother was snoring.
For a moment Nanao actually considered waking Rangiku up. She had not come over to volunteer to babysit after all, but the poor thing did look utterly exhausted.
Rangiku woke up an hour later to find Nanao seated at the kotatsu with her daughter and Kinta, both looking freshly laundered. Somehow Nanao had both children sitting politely and sipping tea and eating manju like civilized people. It amazed Rangiku that Nanao could get such behavior out of Kin-chan, but she had noticed Nanao was willing to put a hell of a lot more effort into getting the behavior she wanted than Rangiku ever had been.
She sat up and looked around while she stretched. Yuki was asleep on a pallet. That was miraculous. Yuki slept pretty well once you actually managed to get her there, but Nanao had somehow managed to wash Kin-chan and Aiko without either of them screaming loud enough to wake her. Rangiku was impressed.
"Did you save me any?" she asked when Kinta smiled at her and said, "Good morning, Mommy."
"Yep, these are yours," he told her, shoving the tray of snacks in her direction and nearly off the table. Nanao caught hold of it when it reached the edge. "Can I show Ai-chan Nii-chan's legos? Aunt Nanao said I had to ask you first."
"Sure, he said he's too old for toys anyway," Rangiku answered. She knew Shiro would be annoyed when he found his brother had taken apart all his little models, but that was his problem. He was the one who wanted to be a grownup. She was annoyed at him for taking a box of his books to the Tenth a couple days earlier. She knew that was just the first step toward moving out entirely.
"So how is everything?" Nanao asked carefully.
Rangiku frowned. The only time it annoyed her how quickly news traveled in Seireitei was when she herself was the news. "Miyako told you?" she guessed, sure Kaien would have told his wife about her breakdown this morning.
"Only because she couldn't check on you herself," Nanao answered. "She's hosting the humans, and she says the family's being more difficult than usual, so she couldn't get away, but she's worried about you. Is there anything we can do to help, Rangiku?"
Rangiku sighed. "I'm alright, really. I just needed to cry, I think. It's been a pretty awful week-but I have Gin back, so it's alright. It is."
"You sound like you're trying to convince someone," Nanao said.
"Well, how do you feel with Shuhei-kun getting mixed up in everything?" Rangiku demanded, defensively.
"Shuhei hasn't done anything wrong!" Nanao snapped back.
Rangiku opened her mouth. Then she stopped herself, and she took a deep breath. "But it's scary, isn't it? Knowing whatever happens you can't protect him? At least you know he hasn't done anything. Gin-he's done really horrible things, Nanao, and I understand why, but I'm so afraid. They all hate him so much. Are they really going to let him go in the end? If he really helps, if he does everything he possibly can, is it going to be enough? What if someone decides it isn't?"
"They've given him a full pardon," Nanao said.
"But that's not enough to keep him safe in battle. How can he go with them to fight Aizen when they don't trust him, and he can't trust them? Someone who's supposed to watch his back might decide to stab him in the back."
"Do you really think anyone would do that?"
Rangiku's eyes dropped to the tea cup cooling in her hand. "Maybe not, but they might decide to watch when an enemy did. It's not-it's not like he wouldn't deserve it. But I need him to come home to me."
"You need to have faith in the Gotei, Rangiku. No shinigami would fail in their duty to their allies due to any personal feelings no matter how justified they might feel. They have more honor than that."
The end of Nanao's sentence dropped off into silence as the shoji door to the hall was slowly drawn open. Both women turned, expecting to find the children there, but instead a strange man stood in the doorway, a slender, young man with a face devoid of emotion and utterly white. He was not a shinigami; he wore only white. On his head was a strange, bone-like half-helmet with a large horn, and at the base of his neck was an empty, black hole. The only color was in his eyes which were brilliant green and focused currently on the two women.
They both knew what he was, though they had never seen one before. He was an Arrancar, not half-formed like the ones they had heard horror stories about, but perfect. How an Arrancar had found his way into the center of Seireitei was immaterial. He was here now, and Nanao and Rangiku both knew they were no possible match for him, even if either had had a zanpakuto, which they didn't.
"Which one of you is Ichimaru's wife?" he asked; his voice was as cold and empty as his face.
Nanao's breath caught, and her eyes went to Rangiku. Rangiku drew every bit of her strength together, fighting the fear that held her paralyzed. She'd never felt so weak or helpless in her life, not even when she didn't know if Gin would ever come home again. This was a monster in her home, with her babies, and she could not fight him-but he had asked for Gin's wife; maybe she was the only one he had come for. That thought gave her the strength to move. She pushed off the table to get to her feet. "I am. I am Ichimaru Rangiku," she said, firmly, and then she asked, "Did you hurt the children?"
His eyes narrowed. "You are not very strong," he said, sounding vaguely puzzled.
"Did you hurt them?" Rangiku repeated. Nothing else mattered. He was in her home, standing between her and Kin-chan. She couldn't even think about anything else.
He raised one long, thin arm and pointed past the two women toward the garden.
They both turned immediately. There were Kinta and Aiko, hand in hand, walking down the narrow path to the main division buildings. Something halfway between a sob and a laugh escaped Nanao's mouth, but Rangiku felt no relief. The monster was still too close.
She turned back to face him and found he had moved directly in front of her, and before she could speak his hand was around her neck.
"I have brought Ichimaru a present," the white creature said softly. "From Lord Aizen. It is in the children's room. I have sent them to fetch him so he will see it before it spoils."
"What is it?" Rangiku asked. Despite the hand around her neck, all she could feel was relief. He was not here to harm the children. He had another purpose in being here.
His eyes with their sad, painted tear lines stared into her face as though he was trying to see something, but he couldn't seem to find whatever it was he was looking for. "Why did Ichimaru choose you?" he asked finally. "He held a position of honor and strength. Why would he abandon it to tie himself to you and these children? You will do nothing but hold him back. Likely, you will be the cause of his death. I do not understand such a foolish choice when Ichimaru is no fool."
"You have no heart. How could you understand?" Rangiku answered.
"Even Lord Aizen cannot give a hollow back its heart, but if it the source of such foolishness then I do not regret its loss," he answered.
Rangiku felt his nails pierce her skin, and she gasped at the sudden pain.