Lifted Up

by Tomas the Betrayer

Sequel to 'Hammered Down'. Under the shadow of a heaven ruled by monsters, Rukia Kuchiki continues to fulfill her duties with new lives and hearts added to the mix. And above all, there is a mother's love.

9. Wedding Hells: Branch Out

Renji fell back onto the bed with a gasp. His body was shaking, whether from fear or excitement; hard to tell. It felt wonderful either way. All warm and tingly. When she knelt to press herself against him, he reached up to hold her. One arm encircled her naked body while the other began to rhythmically stroke that glossy black hair. Was she shaking too? He wanted to ask but didn't. Why? It feels like my throat won't obey me. Was it her doing somehow? Which of us is scared of the question, her or me?

Head resting on his chest, she spoke after a while. "It won't be long now."

"I know." Again, he hadn't meant to say that. It felt like he was in a play, just mouthing his lines when he got the prompt. Can I do anything? Or… is this not really about me?

"You'll tell me when it happens, won't you, Renji?" Lovely hands traced across the tattoos on his pectorals. "I won't be able to attend, but you'll be there for me. Tell me when it happens. I have to know."

"Everyone will be there," he acknowledged. "So will I. You can see it then."

She sighed and grew still. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Again his part was over. Soon it would be time for this to end. And still he hadn't been able to say anything really important.

I can't let it happen. She needs to hear this! There must be another way for me to say it! Somebody, please, help me!

Here, King.

Thanks.

With that, he found the power of speech again. Looking down at her, all he saw was the crown of her hair. She seemed so peaceful like this. It's not enough, though. There's more than just the two of us.

"Hana-chan."

Her body went still. She did not look up. All the same… he felt cold.

"I want to help you. It can't be too late. There must be something we can do to save you. Don't give up. Please. I don't want to have to fight against you."

"Renji…"

She murmured his name with such sorrow. He had broken the rules. Would something bad happen as a result?

"There's nothing left to save, my dear."

Slowly she rose upright, still straddling him, hands pressed against his chest.

Suddenly her fingers dug in like claws. He grasped hold of her wrists to try and pull them away, to no avail. They did not move in the slightest. When he looked up her face was completely covered by the fall of hair. Still so beautiful. Only now the light had changed, and her previously snow-white skin held only the pallor of a corpse. It was terrifying. What am I holding onto?

Let go. Let go, please.

"I am already gone, Renji."

She bent to kiss him. In doing so her hair fell away, and he…

Screaming.

---

His eyes flew open and Renji sat straight up in bed. Shuddering uncontrollably, he pressed both hands to his scalp, nails digging in 'til it hurt. Remember! Remember, dammit!

Instead the dream faded, just like always. Soon he couldn't even tell why it had been important to try, and he sank back onto the futon with a groan, red hair spilling out onto his pillow like moonlight through the windows of his quarters.

Beside him Neliel did not so much as stir. She was a very heavy sleeper. He turned his head and looked at her, feeling incredibly tired. Had they made love that hard? It was never obvious when she had enough. Sometimes things got so heated he just passed out and woke up in the morning with no clear recollection of their bout. When it came to sex Nell was completely tireless. How could anybody keep up with her?

She looked peaceful; eyes closed, green hair tumbling across her breasts and shoulders. The moon shone white on her Hollow helm. It made him think of a dead body's flesh.

And just like that he felt it coming back to him. Something about the color white, and darkness, almost there, I've almost got it…!

Nope. Lost it.

He felt guilty, and not for the first time. Occasionally upon waking Renji got the strangest feeling like there was someone in the room with them. A person he had let in. Watching them. But that didn't make any sense.

Shame led to guilt which found its way to Rukia.

Renji lay in bed beside his co-captain and thought. He had obeyed Yumichika Ayasegawa's final wishes and come to a decision regarding the object of their mutual affection. Would it have been the same one Yumichika intended to choose had he survived the war? This question came back to haunt Renji at odd times. In a way, he felt as though some part of the fallen Fifth Seat lived on in him, a fragment of his psyche watching and commenting on the events in Renji's life. There were times he found himself imagining what that inscrutable character might have said were he present for certain events. "Egad, would you look at Captain Kotetsu?" he could almost be heard to murmur during conference meetings. "She looks as though she just rolled out of bed after fighting with a particularly vicious Hollow. Somebody get me a horse brush and a quart of exfoliant, STAT!"

It was not always a reassuring arrangement.

"You never could have made her happy, Renji," the deceased warrior's words lilted in his imagination. "She was meant for better than you. Better than us. We tried to steal a treasure only intended to be held by the most worthy. How very audacious of us, to be sure. But still, perhaps it's for the best that you just gave up."

"I didn't 'give up', alright?" he breathed back softly. "I just thought about her more than I did myself."

"And now you can't get her off your mind. Shouldn't that be telling you something, hmmm?"

"At least I can live with myself. That's what you said, right?"

"Tossing my own words back at me? How dull. Quoting others is a mark of insecurity in oneself. Although if you had to quote anyone, I'm certainly the most shining resource available."

Can anyone join in on…

... this conversation, brother?

It was a relief to be taken in hand by Zabimaru. Sometimes Renji caught himself arguing back and forth with Imaginary Ayasegawa more than he felt comfortable with. They already had two technically insane captains (three counting Soifon). One more would not be considered an improvement.

What has you…

… so upset, then?

Bad dream. Nothing we haven't had before, right?

We wouldn't know. Your dreams…

… are yours and yours alone. We do not intrude.

I don't know whether to be relieved or disturbed by that. Maybe I should keep a dream journal? That's something people do, right? Could be then I might figure out a pattern that would let me know what's causing this.

As if to answer his silent plea, there came a slight rush of air outside his door, and a sound of floorboards shifting. Renji got to his feet and crept toward the portal, always careful not to disturb Nel no matter how deep her stupor. When he slid open the paper pane there was no one there, which was exactly how he ordered it. The dispatch squad knew not to disturb their captains at night unless it was an emergency. Instead all he found waiting for him was a fairly mundane data pad tucked into a paper binder. Old habits died hard.

Abarai closed the door and moved over to the screens leading outside. He entered his passcode and thumbprint to unlock the pad and began to examine its contents. The day's report held little to arouse concern. Some reminders about meetings over the upkeep of the Halos. Captains could attend or send their subordinates. Included was a list of officers assigned to the current Halos, and he couldn't resist picking out her name.

Yup. There it was. 'Lieutenant Rukia Kuchiki, Halo 5'. She had resumed responsibility after her furlough in the mortal realm. They still didn't have the manpower to handle all the souls and their relocation into the newly designed planes, so the Heavenly Education and Relocation Oases remained a very necessary aspect of the Gotei 7's operation for the immediate future. When he managed to catch a moment to speak to her about it, Rukia assured him she could manage her affairs both here and in the mortal plane without special dispensation. She had smiled at him afterwards to let him know she hadn't mistaken his concern for belittlement. They knew each other well. Nice to still have that old bond to rely on.

"You wanted more, though. Greedy little dog, eyeing another pup's bone. You still have a long way to go, Renji."

He ignored this jape as something else caught his eye, a piece of information that caused the Captain of Siamese Company to frown.

Sandwiched between a notice about body armor specs and an invitation to join a committee about moderating alcohol intake was former Commander-General Genryusai-Shigekuni Yamamoto's most recent health report. Renji focused on this medical information with a certain apprehension. What he saw there made him uncomfortable. According to this, the once invincible soldier's prognosis was not good. He had deteriorated in recent months to the point where they did not hold out much hope of him surviving the year, much less recovering.

It was autumn now. If he was reading this right, by the time winter rolled around, Yamamoto would probably be dead.

Good.

"Bite your tongue, Renji! What kind of death is that for a legendary warrior, languishing in a hospital bed hooked up to breathing apparatus? So very ugly!"

It's more than he deserves. I almost resent that Tosen was the one to bring him down and not me. Or Aizen. Or whichever one actually did the deed. Super-powered old bastard. After what he intended to do to Rukia, there's no way I'd ever have let him off the hook. Plus thanks to good ol' Yamamoto dropping the ball at the last second, Unohana-taichou wound up sacrificing herself to keep Aizen and Co. locked away in Nirvana! Too bad I got sucker-punched by one of Kyoka Suigetsu's illusions during the war. He made our side think we were being attacked by our own lieutenants. Aizen messed with my head so bad I can't even remember what happened. Wasn't there to help Unohana-sama. She might be dead for all anybody knows. And I never had the guts… to tell her what she meant to me. Now I probably never will.

Hana-chan…

'Renji…'

He shivered.

'It won't be long now.'

Feeling cold, the young war leader made his way back to bed. When he snuggled under the covers Neliel threw an arm around him while mumbling sleepily into his shoulder. Renji gently clasped her hand in his and stared up at the ceiling.

I've got more than most men could ever ask for. So why do I feel less in charge of my life than ever?

Those who have the most…

… are in danger of losing it.

"Oh, cease your moping, my red-combed rooster. You've got it better than most of us! Say, want to look for Neliel's Hollow hole again? We still haven't found it."

If people only knew how messed up my head is. I'd make Mayuri Kurotsuchi look like the sanest man in all life and beyond.

---

-Therefore the true origin of vasto lorde continues to elude me. Live specimens have proven impossible to come by. The approaching war may prove advantageous to my research beyond the opportunities for settling personal sco… [DELETED]-

-Why does Hueco Mundo exist? Spiritual planes do not simply spring up without reason. There is a purpose to it, one I am positive does not involve sheltering a few cowering Hollows from marauding shinigami. But who created it, and why? Perhaps we are not alone in this universe… [DELETED]-

-The Wild Hunt. A natural phenomenon? An aberration? An expression of purpose, one that rose in response to the power of death gods? It might eventually be proven that we shinigami are the ones operating against the natural order, and the Hunt is the mortal world's way of addressing our transgressions. Are we destined for extinction? Well, science marches on… [DELETED]-

Not for the first time, Kisuke Urahara cursed Mayuri Kurotsuchi for a paranoid lunatic.

Standing before a control console in his offices on the R&D Bureau's deepest level, the spectral scientist was surrounded by glowing scrolls which unwound and wrapped up all around him. The information contained therein was personal research conducted by his successor/predecessor. It had taken him several months to gain access to Mayuri's personal files, an accomplishment quickly dampened by the realization that his maniacal former coworker had not simply relied on passwords and coding to protect his treasures. Whenever he opened a file, it automatically triggered a program embedded in the data that erased the contents after a few seconds. The process was thorough, unstoppable, and potentially sentient. That offered intriguing possibilities for dealing with it. But at the current time, the captain of Ibis Company was too irritated to do much beyond spitefully destroy the least interesting examples.

-I know you are reading this, Kisuke-sa… [DELETED]-

We're becoming annoyed by this behavior, boy.

Another holographic scroll snapped shut and vanished forever into glowing particles of light. Its contents would have to remain a mystery. Say goodbye to your life's work, Mayuri, wherever you are!

Wanton destruction of such trivial property bores us. If you continue in this boorish display, we might just invite you inside for a little chat.

Don't be alarmed. Everything here is securely backed up inside Mayuri's nasty little head. And if not him, his daughter. I'm sure of it. He would never include such a failsafe if he wasn't assured that his precious research would survive. Double and triple layers of insurance. He's just that kind of person.

When we wish for an explanation from you, we will ask. This audience is finished.

The presence of his zanpakutō faded. Kisuke only smiled to himself. History had proven it wouldn't be long before she grew bored and…

We have returned. Carry on, boy.

As you wish, Your Highness.

-Project Deathly Debutante has yielded surprisingly versatile accomplishments which can be applied both on and off the battlefield. My lackeys inform me that our old body armor prototype is now capable of being shed from the wearer whereas before escape could only be countenanced after the subject's demise. I have already informed Kuchiki-ojousama of this side benefit and basked in her trivial but well-warranted praise. Now if we can just overcome the bouts of psychotic dementia that accompany it we… [DELETED].

The mention of the name Kuchiki had Urahara dismissing the illusionary database and slumping tiredly into a chair of his brightly lit office. The walls were screens that showed live images of the landscape found in Soul Society. Having been denied the chance to view his home's beauty for so long, it comforted him to be able to raise his head at any time and take in the eternal splendor of the afterlife. Every glance was a triumph.

Of course, his improved living conditions had not changed his situation. He was still working to comprehend the intentions of his enemies. The most frustrating aspect of this endeavor was never knowing just who could be trusted. He even doubted himself. A peril of having an opponent who could mislead people's senses to the extent that they couldn't recognize the truth if they lived it. Not to mention a woman so steeped in history she had watched his ancestors grow old and die. And those were just the ones he couldn't touch. Unfortunately their reach still extended to him and those he cherished.

He ruminated on the current state of affairs. They now had a better idea of what might be happening as a result of that incident in Hueco Mundo involving the kidnapped human children. The lords of Nirvana could communicate with their forces in this world and beyond. Who did those forces include? A Hollow deity back from the dead. A mad hunting party that pursued the living and the deceased. A warlord of Hueco Mundo out for his own ends. A Hollow born from Urahara's own efforts in the body of a frustratingly powerful human boy. And potentially, a renegade shinigami captain and his love interest looking to play off both sides to their advantage. If we cross them off one by one, not only will our positions improve in terms of survival, but the picture will become that much clearer.

What does this have to do with rifling through that unsightly little man's notes?

The more information I have about them the closer I get to divining their strategies. And Mayuri worked more closely with Unohana Retsu than any other captain still in existence. No matter how guarded she might have been, their interactions could yield a clue about the intentions of her cabal.

Please. Do not attempt to dissemble to us. You simply want to know if he surpassed you in the time since your departure. Your motives are as transparent as they are tedious.

Well, I'm allowed my disreputable proclivities, aren't I? And I do confess a certain morbid curiosity as to what the maniac accomplished with unlimited funds and unrestricted resources which I sadly lacked for the past 100 years.

If you're so curious, why not bend your efforts to remobilizing the freakshow so you can ask him directly?

Because I'm enjoying having as few people eager to kill me as possible, okay?

Are you afraid of him?

No.

Who, then?

I'm not motivated by fear.

You have never stopped fearing us.

You're one evil I can live with.

As soon as he thought it, Urahara knew he had made a mistake.

Never address us in such a fashion, boy.

Sitting in his lab, Kisuke Urahara went very still. The only sound was the beating of his heart, and it began to grow. Around his field of vision there came a swarm of angry red creeping in like ice around a pond. He could almost hear the door opening, feel himself falling back into it, maybe never to come out this time.

He closed his eyes.

I have people who need me. I have friends who care for me. I have allies who do not trust me. I have an enemy I hate. I have a friend whom I must kill. Please let me stay.

Remember who holds the power in this relationship.

Fingers brushed gently against his cheek. A sense of vertigo, and just like that he was back in control, arms trembling and sweat pearling on his brow. Dizzy and nauseous. But here all the same.

Thank you, Benihime.

No response came back. It would seem she had grown tired of him, for which he was immensely grateful. Kisuke then spent a few seconds composing his findings into a message and dispatching it by hell butterfly to Yoruichi. After recovering fully the researcher then picked himself up with a groan, rubbing at a sore neck he hadn't noticed 'til now as he made his way towards the transport leading upstairs. The security system blinked at him with its x-ray eyes before disengaging. A holdover from Mayuri's time. The man simply didn't believe in letting anything go to waste, which was why so much of the building nowadays could be classified as semi-organic.

As he stepped (or perhaps the better term might be 'vomited') out of the lift, another butterfly alighted on his head. Its message was brief.

'Currently engaged in my noble duties. Will contact you when done. No interruptions 'til then, got it?'

He could practically hear Yoruichi's snark. He seemed to be having issues with royalty today. Fortunate I have other matters to attend to. As Mayuri said, science marches on!

---

"Ho, Lord Kuchiki!"

The party from the Kuchiki household, with Byakuya at their head, drew to a halt. Marching down the hall towards them came the Shihoin representatives. Retainers and clansmen wore time-honored formal garb in the colors of that clan, orange and black. Most eye-catching was Lady Yoruichi Shihoin leading the pack. For once her hair was held up by more than just a red cord that doubled as a strangler's noose. Now fabulous pins in gold, turquoise and tortoise shell protruded from her purple locks in a studiously maintained coiffure. She had on thick brocade ceremonial robes of silk with gold thread designs woven in. Her face was lightly painted and limbs bedecked with jeweled necklaces and bracelets. One could hardly recognize her.

That smile could only be worn by one woman in existence.

You have the right of it, Senbonzakura.

The two parties came to face one another before the doors to the meeting hall. A wizened old senior of the Kuchiki stepped forward and bowed most humbly. "His Grace Lord Kuchiki bids greetings to his divine counterpart of the Shihoin. We honor your name and pay homage to your household."

Just as another venerable ancient was preparing to make the necessary response for the Shihoin, their Lady raised a hand. "Why don't the rest of you continue the obligatory rituals insider? Lord Kuchiki and I must speak in private."

Her clan wasted no time in trooping over to the door. At an almost imperceptible sign from their master, the Kuchiki party followed suit. Painted screens slid open, allowing a view of a huge chamber of polished wood and silken hangings adorned with intricately carved posts running up and down the walls. Otherwise harboring little in terms of decoration, the center of the room was dominated by six low antique tables arranged in a circle on a raised dais. Silk cushions of particular color patterns were arranged in rows behind them. None of the trappings in any way denoted superiority to the rest in terms of quality or design. This was a conclave of equals.

Once the panes shut, both nobles regarded one another from across a small space. She spoke first. "Are you ready for this?"

A strange and uncomfortable knot twisted his stomach which he strove to hide. "I believe I have made my intentions clear."

To his surprise, Yoruichi did not take this opportunity to tease him. Instead she simply examined his face as though searching for any trace of waning resolve. "I suppose you still haven't mentioned anything about it to Rukia."

His slate gray eyes did not flicker in the slightest. "The interested parties will be informed immediately afterwards. I have made all necessary preparations."

"Would you mind if I attend? Just to see the look on Ichigo's face, of course!"

"You are welcome to present yourself."

"Many thanks, Your Lordship." Now Yoruichi didn't bother to hide her grin at the cloud of discontent that arose unbidden to her lover's face upon mention of that name. Her eyes flashed with amusement. Then they grew guarded and she indicated over his shoulder. "Uh-oh. Just in time. Look who's here."

Byakuya turned. Another exceptionally regimented party now prowled towards them, its members attired in the colors of crimson and olive. The middle-aged man who led this procession was tall and lean. Deep gray hair had been tied in a long braid which fell down one shoulder. He sported a short beard on a narrow face, black eyes hooded by thin brows fixed in an almost permanent glare. One arm was tucked securely into the fold of his richly embroidered kimono. Upon spotting the two nobles his expression seemed to sharpen. It reminded Byakuya of a hawk spying two mice in a field. There was a distinct sense of unfriendliness as this group approached which both of them felt.

The leader stopped, his retinue snapping to a halt behind him. Once again an older member shuffled forth and gave the bare minimum of an appropriate bow. His voice was harsh but dignified. "His Grace Lord Arashi bids greetings to his divine counterpart of the Shihoin. We honor your name and pay homage to your household."

This was then repeated for the Kuchiki. Meanwhile Lord Katsurou Arashi managed to make it clear by his very bearing that those traditional words did not reflect his own feelings in the slightest. The head of one of Seireitei's Four Great Houses looked like he would have been more pleased to find himself surrounded by brigands in a darkened alley. Byakuya let none of his own emotions betray him. Instead he simply bowed to the other clan leader slightly and nothing more.

"Arashi-dono," Yoruichi spoke up behind him. "It's good to see you well."

"Do not let me interrupt whatever business you two are engaged in," the older man barely glanced at her when he spoke. "Let us proceed apace and be done with it."

The Lady of Shihoin kept her face cool but stepped backward to allow the party to pass. Lord Arashi led his retinue into the meeting chamber, where they took their spots behind him with Katsurou seated at his table in the center.

I would dearly love to strangle him with that ridiculous hairdo of his.

Do not intrude your base fantasies on me. There is more at stake here than ever before.

Keep a close eye on him. He will no doubt view this as a shot across his bow, if not an outright declaration of war.

There will be no hostilities today. I will not permit it, Senbonzakura.

As you say.

Byakuya scanned the environment. With the Shihoin, Kuchiki and Arashi present, only one clan remained absent. The two spots formerly held by the fallen houses of Takuiyoku and Shiba were empty as per tradition. Kukaku Shiba had been approached after the Autumn War with an offer to officially begin reclamation of her royal clan's preeminent status, which she had declined, to the surprise of none. Though great changes had occurred in the Seireitei and Gotei 7 in the past year, some things did not alter no matter the tumult of ages. Or perhaps best to say they could not be permitted to change. These four remaining families represented the bedrock upon which their world rested. Their positions were based as much upon duty as privilege, an idea that many outsiders chose to ignore. Secluded from the laws of state, insulated by hereditary customs both archaic and enduring, the Noble Houses conducted their business in a manner that affected both high and low. Smaller noble clans who called them patrons hearkened to the influence of their betters, treating with one another according to the watchful example of these royal archetypes.

"I'm here! We're coming, I'm here!"

Byakuya saw warmth return to Yoruichi's face upon hearing this declaration. For his part, he could not keep his eyes from narrowing just a tad. For some people, regal dignity did not come easily, no matter how long they might live.

The sound of trooping feet heralded the arrival of their final party. From around a corner down the way there burst into view a jumble of silver and turquoise robes. Dignitaries clutched their scrolls as they strove to keep up with the long legs of their leader, who raced in unseemly fashion as anxious attendants attempted to maintain her resplendent wardrobe on the run. An elaborate silver headdress with a veil perched atop her head was waving from side to side. Three long beaded strands of hair served as her permanent mark of office much like his own silk scarf. Her costly tailor-made robes were in danger of sliding off her body, which the servants strove hastily to push back into place on her frame. She came racing down the hall and slid to a halt panting, dark brown eyes swiveling between the two other family heads. Her clansmen practically fell over one another at her back. Perhaps it was a matter of following their mistress' poor example so as not to make her look foolish by comparison. Byakuya could admire such devotion, if nothing else.

"I'm sorry we're late!" the lady gasped. "Things are so hectic this month! I was trying to get everything done before heading over, but a lot of wounded Tiger people came in, and there was a cleansing ceremony I completely forgot about, and then it turned out my robes didn't fit me anymore, so we had to do some sewing on the run, and…" She stopped talking, cheeks going red upon recognizing how unbecoming she must sound. In this welcome interlude, her herald made the necessary introductions.

"Her Eminence Lady Kotetsu bids greetings to her divine counterparts of the Shihoin and Kuchiki. We honor your names and pay homage to your households."

Yoruichi's grin held all the welcome of the sun. "Glad to see you could make it, Isane-dono."

Lady Isane Kotetsu, captain of Heron Company and oldest of the current clan heads, could only manage an abashed shrug in return. Outside of the normal shinigami robes and white cloak most of their brethren were now used to seeing her in, one might not correlate the tall captain with the splendidly appointed noblewoman arrayed before them. She was dressed the part to be sure. However in all the time he had known her, whether in her capacity as a death god or head of her house, Byakuya had always harbored the impression that Isane was more comfortable in her role as a doctor than she could ever possibly be shouldering the burden of leading the Kotetsu clan.

While not quite as gifted in terms of spirit powers as the other four families, the Kotetsu were remarkably long-lived. Their current members included those preceding his or Yoruichi's time who yet appeared to be no more than a few hundred years old at first glance. The passing of Isane's honored father many centuries ago had reputedly come as no surprise. By that point he was older than practically any soul that existed in the afterlife by far. However her older brother's unexpected death less than a year after inheriting his position as Lord of the Kotetsu proved a shock to all, at least according to Byakuya's grandfather. It was grief at his father's passing that brought him low, an explanation both Ginrei and his grandson had good cause to understand seeing as Byakuya's own father suffered an untimely demise for much the same reason. Even the mightiest spirit could not endure a malaise of the heart.

"Shall we proceed, then?" Yoruichi asked, breaking off his reverie.

At a slight nod of agreement on his part, both he and Yoruichi finally entered the meeting hall ahead of the Kotetsu. They made their way slowly to the designated positions, while behind them Isane almost tripped on her own dress hem in her haste. Byakuya watched everything from the corner of one eye. He saw Lady Kotetsu awkwardly greet Lord Arashi, who actually rose and bowed to his elder, affording her the respect which had been conspicuously absent for the other clans. The two of them ignored ceremonial exchange of greetings and spoke together in low voices with an ease that had not been evident in either of them before now.

Eventually Isane broke away and hustled on over to where her family had already settled in ordered rows. At last the four monarchs were gathered in attendance, prepared to engage in a most civilized method of armistice. The battle lines were drawn in ranks of olive and crimson, silver and turquoise, orange and black, canary yellow and gray. Now as it had been for so many generations, the Four Noble Houses of the Seireitei were met in conclave to discuss matters of the highest repute.

Each family took turns from one meeting to the next in presenting the first order of business. It was currently the Kotetsu's opportunity to begin. An appointed delegate from that house rose at her mistress' right and bowed humbly.

"It is my privilege to address this council today as the voice of our Lady. The matter which we bring before you bears directly upon the future of our great houses. In consideration of the violent uprising so recently suppressed, the governing members of all four clans have met separately and in joint sessions. We have come to a consensus on this subject which we feel must be addressed without further delay."

The appointed speakers for the other groups inclined their heads in agreement of this statement. Byakuya kept his own counsel. While he remained the supreme patriarch of the Kuchiki, the elders of his extended household did hold some influence in terms of family business and the discharge of their obligations. They could treat between other parties on their own authority in order to sound out any objections or discover points of interest. His approval was ultimately necessary, however it was not unheard of for a powerful show of force on the part of the elders to compel a clan head to take actions he might personally consider opprobrious. Such conflicts were not aired openly, and less influential people often remained unaware that there could even be disagreements between a lord and his valued clan officials. Still, there remained the possibility that an inattentive ruler might wind up blindsided at one of these meetings by their own retainers.

The dignitary from the Kotetsu spoke with utmost gravity. "Our point is this: at the current time, none of the main branch families have produced any heirs to their titles. In the past 300 years, only Lord Kuchiki has taken a wife, and that union ended childless."

Neither Byakuya nor Yoruichi looked at one another then, but nonetheless she clearly felt his temper rise at this comment. A slight shifting on her part as though to get more comfortable was actually a silent admonition: Don't lose your cool, kid.

He accepted her counsel, and proceeded to listen.

"In times of peace, this was not considered to be dire cause for concern. However having watched the near overthrow of our entire world only a year past, we no longer feel it prudent to hesitate. If the clans are to continue, we must be assured of some security in our futures. We must turn our attention to the next generation. Let us not overlook the misfortune which befell our former confederates, and the lowly states to which they descended."

Several pairs of eyes flickered to the two empty tables. A few could not suppress a shiver at the thought of such disgrace befalling their own households.

"Hear our pleas, noble ones: we ask that you consider prospects of marriage for yourselves and your immediate family at this time!"

Before another word could be spoken, a strong voice broke in.

"I, Katsurou of the Arashi, decline."

Byakuya looked to where his fellow lord sat stone-faced at the head of his group. One arm remained tucked into his robe, while the other fist was clenched on the table. He saw several heads drop in despair behind their master's back. Did they really think a little thing like near annihilation of the Seireitei could convince such a man to change his views?

As he pondered this, the dignitary to Katsurou's right shuffled closer to his lord's side. "Your Highness, I humbly beg you to reconsider. We have respected your decision in the past, but our concerns can no longer be ignored. Though we would never ask you to impugn your honor, for the sake of the clan, it is my duty to inform you that we are prepared to exercise our power and insist upon…"

With no haste whatsoever, Katsurou Arashi reached into his robe and came out with a thin object. This he silently placed upon the table before him without a word. He then shrugged out of his fine kimono to let it cascade down to his waist. Doing so revealed his right arm ended in a stump. The grim-faced lord kept his gaze fixed over Byakuya's head on the wall behind him.

On the table, a golden dagger gleamed in the torchlight.

His retainer's face had gone ashen. Without another word the old man silently scooted back out of Katsurou's peripheral vision, trembling at the deadly prospect imbued in that blade.

All present understood its meaning. Lord Arashi was making it clear that if the elders forced him to accept this proposal, he would take his own life without hesitation.

You considered a similar option not so long ago. I wonder if perhaps you were not influenced by his previous performances?

Cease your idle talk of such matters. I have never once doubted that he was completely serious in his intentions.

Would he truly end his line, do you think?

Do not doubt his hatred, for I never have.

For a time the only sound in that chamber was the occasional cough or stirring in one's seat. Isane had turned sad eyes upon Katsurou, who did not bother to acknowledge her concern. Beside her the Kotetsu representative finally recovered herself enough to speak.

"Lord Arashi declines. Let it be noted. We bow to his wisdom." She then took a deep breath. "As for the Kotetsu, we have already considered a marriage petition from a suitable house and agreed upon its merits."

Isane's silver-topped head whipped around at this, surprise evident on her face. Apparently the Arashi were not the only ones to conspire behind their ruler's back. Byakuya secretly doubted she would be able to manage quite so convincing a defense should matters not prove to her liking. Some small unworthy part of him could not find fault with the prospect, however.

Still haven't forgiven her for that kiss, eh, my lord?

I hold no unseemly grudges on any score.

Nor should you. Yoruichi might be displeased to hear it, but in my opinion, Lady Isane could teach her a thing or two about tongue-wrestling.

Hold your tongue, you profligate sidearm.

"Before we broach this matter, however, we offer the other clans an opportunity to state their own intentions. Do either the Shihoin or the Kuchiki wish to put forth a claim?"

With Yoruichi on his right, Byakuya studied the familiar faces across from him. As he observed Lady Kotetsu fidget and Lord Arashi glower, a presentiment of peril crawled up his spine. Seeing the two of them like that reminded Byakuya how dangerous these people really were. He had grown up watching them conduct their family affairs, first in the capacity of a retainer in his grandfather's entourage, then as a lord in his own right. Of course matters of protocol and tradition now held a decidedly more sinister subterfuge in light of recent events. After all, the Kotetsu family had a longstanding relationship with Isane's illustrious predecessor, Unohana Retsu. Her grandfather Yuma had served the ancient goddess faithfully before the Gotei 13 even existed, willingly going into exile with her when she abandoned the court of the King.

To say nothing of the fact that over six-hundred years ago, Katsurou Arashi oversaw the wedding of his younger sister Manami to the ruler of the divine clan of Takuiyoku, Kaito.

Lord Kuchiki watched his old adversary carefully. Whether he knew it or not, that man was the maternal uncle of Aizen Sosuke. A fact which made him very perilous indeed.

The secrets they might hold he could not begin to guess at. With this in mind, he signaled his retainer. The man rose immediately.

"The House of Kuchiki puts forth a marriage proposal for one of its noblest members."

---

Hanging upside down, Noboru shot a hate-filled look at his enemy. "Al infierno, broma!"

In response Soifon merely slid her zanpakutō into its sheathe on her back and sat down cross-legged on a branch to watch him, face schooled into a judgmental mask.

Suspended fifty feet off the ground, her erstwhile disciple was snared in a giant web formed of kidō that stretched between the boughs of this forest. Noboru wore the traditional garb of the Onmitsukidō in simple black trousers and vest. Bruises covered the skin that was visible; he bled in several places, which she referred to as 'superficial cuts'. His humiliation threatened to choke him. He was winded and wounded, and very much wrathful.

Bakudo #20, Kagerō Kyūden. The Cobweb Palace. Perfect choice for a black widow.

I know that tone. Don't tell me you're just going to quit!

Ganju's probably got brunch ready by now. I'll take flapjacks over flailing around any day.

Lazy-ass diablillo.

For a time Noboru simply glared at the woman responsible for his predicament. He gave an experimental pull on his wrist, noting how the strands of webbing stretched a little but not enough to offer him any real freedom of movement. Hanuman remained clenched in his grip in sealed katana form.

Just call it a day, will you? I'm tired of listening to her.

She wants us to give up, don't you get it?

Then surprise her and cooperate for once so we can go home.

I'm done playing her games.

Noting how the flat black eyes of the hateful woman stayed locked on him, his own gold-ringed gray ones focused on her with well-tempered spite. "I order you to release me, Feng!"

"While you remain in that spell, our training session remains active. As such I will give your words no more consideration than the buzzing of a bothersome fly." Having said this, she settled back to continue staring at him. "Were you not Lady Yoruichi's heir, and simply another trainee, I would have already taken one of your fingers for this shoddy display. Or perhaps an ear. Count yourself fortunate, boy."

"You're disgusting," he shot back. "Garbage straight from Day One, that's what you are. I don't know what my mother sees in you!"

"Someone she can depend on."

Anger spurred his tongue before he could think. "When I'm lord of the Shihoin, better believe the first person who gets the boot is you!"

"When you become lord of the Shihoin," Soifon spoke crisply, "it will be because your blessed mother has perished. Is your hatred towards me so great you would wish for that?"

Immediately the stab of heat in his cheeks told Noboru he had erred. Hot upon the heels of this there came shame, followed by outrage. "You tricked me into saying that!" he denied hotly.

Soifon did not stop watching him as she produced a knife and began sharpening it on a whetstone. "If I were able to manipulate you into behaving however I want, I would choose to have you act like a prince, not a spiteful brat too untutored to admit when he is wrong."

Shhhk. Shhhk. The sound her whetstone made set his teeth on edge. "Let. Me. GO!"

The assassin only smiled. "Tangled in a web/ The fly cries out to the world/ 'How dare you trick me'!"

That's IT!

"BAMBOOZLE, HANUMAN!"

The power pole shot straight towards her temple. Quick as a flash Soifon's head snapped to one side, face already going dark with displeasure. Behind her the golden tip of the staff struck soundly against the tree trunk.

"GROW!"

His soul cutter's power activated. Still holding onto the other end, Noboru was launched backwards as the weapon expanded to incredible lengths. The gossamer spell stretched like a deflated balloon with him at its center. Its cords began to dig into his back, yet still he willed his weapon to continue, sending him up at an angle. Branches and leaves slashed against him until he broke through the forest canopy and into the open air, startled birds flying aloft crying out their agitation. The strength of Soifon's kidō now matched against Hanuman's previously unlimited elongation. Its deceptively silky cords began to dig painfully into his back.

This thing's gonna slice you into bits!

Just keep going!

His partner obeyed, and they rose ever higher. Far below he could see Soifon watching them through the hole in the foliage. Keep your eye on the birdie, Chuckles!

Okay, Hanuman… let go!

Instantly the zanpakutō reformed as a sword in his hand. At the same time the spell shot them back earthwards like a rubber band. Straight at Soifon. See if you can handle this, you spooky…!

There came a bright flash, and Noboru blacked out.

When he came to, it was to find himself staring up at the sunlit sky through dappled green leaves. Oak and birch branches waved gently in a breeze. He ached all over. When he tried to sit up it made his head spin something fierce. Fighting against the dizziness, the bewildered youth levered himself upright with a hiss of pain.

He was on the forest floor. A few paces off, Soifon stood with her back to him and arms crossed.

"What happened?" he managed to mumble thickly.

"I activated my Shunkō and caught you. Otherwise that ill-advised stunt would have ended with you either breaking all your bones when we collided or just smashing you into the tree once I dodged. I subdued you afterwards. The training is over for today, waka-sama." Her frowning profile cut like a knife. "You failed."

She was back to being respectful. Sometimes Noboru had to wonder if this obedient persona she wore when they were not engaged in sparring grated on her nerves as much as it did his. While unfailingly respectful in her manner of address, Soifon still wore that same damnable condescending expression, like she considered this whole training enterprise and him especially beneath her notice. What he wouldn't give to get a reaction out of her like back on the day they first met. Then at least he could be sure she hated him. Now he had to wonder if the only thing preventing her from slitting his throat was Yoruichi's displeasure.

At the same time she would obey him to a fault. He had once told her to hold still so that he could grab her ass again. She conceded, and he had taken a malicious pleasure in squeezing the shinobi's tight tush. At least until he saw her face. Soifon still looked as blandly hostile as ever. He might as well have been combing her hair for all the reaction this intrusion gained. It drained all the pleasure of the act away, and he quickly withdrew.

Noboru sometimes wondered if she would obey an order to kill herself. But he did not hate her enough to risk finding out. Yet.

Instead, he decided to up his game a little.

"Face me, Feng."

She did so. That faintly threatening visage looked in no way curious at what might come next.

Noboru lifted his chin, a mean smirk on his lips as he said…

"Strip."

He watched her face, alert for any reaction.

Instead all Soifon said was, "As you will, my lord."

She had her vest off before he could blink. The shirt underneath looked thin by comparison. He could almost see her…

Wait, hold it! Don't get distracted! "Slowly!" he added with haughty malice. "Take your time and enjoy it."

"As you command."

Not so much as a shift in expression. Soifon brought her heel up to drag off a shoe, balanced expertly on one leg as though it were second nature to her. She then repeated the process until she stood barefoot. Noboru was feeling a little restless and was just about to tell her to quit stalling when he saw the shinobi take hold of her pants.

Is she really going to…?

They got their answer as she bent down with liquid grace, easing the baggy black fabric down in a slow steady glide, until finally Soifon stepped out of the crumpled mass and flicked it away with one toe. As she drifted upright before him more of her legs came into view with every second. 'Fit' didn't quite cover it. She was like an anatomy sketch. He could see the muscles working and shifting under her skin with every movement. Her underwear was on view for all to see. Noboru's face was feeling hot again and his heart beat hard. At the same time, however, he recognized that he wasn't enjoying this quite as much as he had initially assumed. It wasn't disappointment at the show. Definitely not. Instead it might have something to do with the way she was looking at him. Her expression still hadn't changed in spite of everything. Yet somehow the sight of her eyes made him squirm and quickly dampened his ardor.

"Stop looking at me!" he snapped.

"Is anything the matter, young master?" Soifon asked as she obediently trained her gaze firmly off to one side of him, at the same time taking hold of her shirt hem. "Surely you have nothing to be ashamed of."

She started to pull it up, revealing her trim waist and abdominals. Noboru realized he was trembling.

"Is that not so, my lord?"

The fabric rose. She wasn't wearing breast bands of any type.

She's going to do it. Wow, she's really going to…!

There came the first peak of curves…

"STOP!"

Noboru's shout echoed through the woods. Soifon immediately froze.

Awwww…

Cold sweat gleamed on his skin. He regarded the half-naked woman in front of him, feeling sick to his stomach. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" he demanded. "Don't you have any pride?! Why did you just stand there and let me do that to you!"

"Because it was your will," the captain responded. Her unmoved features continued to look away from him. "It is not my place to question your treatment of me."

Noboru stared. This woman was sick. He'd heard of loyalty, but this was just ridiculous! Then, because he felt certain she would be willing to stand there like that forever otherwise, he quickly commanded, "Put your clothes back on, dammit! I'm tired of looking at you!"

Soifon proceeded to do so without another word. Noboru plopped down and glared at her, twirling Hanuman in the form of a chewed-up #2 pencil between restless fingers.

"You know what I really hate about you?" he finally demanded. "You don't care about anybody. Not even yourself. All you do care about is carrying out orders. You'd commit murder if my family told you to, wouldn't you!"

Feng slipped on her vest and began to lace up the ties. "That is correct."

He leapt to his feet angrily. "You're a throwback, you know that? Your set of values is totally antiquated! Nobody nowadays thinks like you do. You still act you're some kind of peasant who has to please the landowners or they'll kill you!" The lordling stalked on over until he stood right in front of her. "News flash! It's the 21st century, or haven't you noticed! Nobody has to bow and scrape to a king if they don't want to. And nobody has ninja anymore, in case you're interested!"

She kept her eyes fixed resolutely over his head. "May I speak freely, waka-sama?"

Noboru threw up his hands in disgust. "SPEAK! Sit, roll over, stay while you're at it… and you can look at me again, for crying out loud!"

She gave him a hard look dead on. "You think like a human."

The boy's face twisted in contempt. "At least one of us does!"

"I mean you view your existence in terms of human civilization. You think the world is a fundamentally peaceful and civilized place. Perhaps for some it is. But only because there are those who are willing to do things and face challenges others would balk at. That is my way! And it is the way not just of me, but all true shinigami!"

"You're full of shit," he responded in a cold voice. "Someone like you who doesn't have any heart or dreams could never hold a candle to a real death god. My Aunt Rukia outshines you from the second she rolls out of bed. I learn more from her in a day than I have from you all year!"

For the first time that morning something like real emotion passed over Soifon's face. It didn't last long enough for him to be sure of its provenance, but Noboru was thrilled to have finally gotten a reaction out of her. "Oh, something on your mind, Feng? C'mon, spit it out, I'm sure it's good!"

Any hopes of seeing a big emotional explosion were doused by the ice in her next words. "I suggest you speak to your father if you wish to learn the true nature of Lady Rukia Kuchiki."

The obvious contempt in her tone, combined with the word 'father', caused his temper to flare like a spark in dry kindling. His zanpakutō was once again in sword form, and he brought its edge right up to her throat. "Say something about my family again!" he snarled. "I dare you, bitch!"

Light reflected off the blade to waver over her face, but her eyes did not flicker in the slightest. There was just a hint of smug satisfaction in those black depths. "Do your worst, young master."

"Ah, it warms my whiskers to see the young people bonding!"

Two heads snapped to one side, where a black cat with golden eyes sat atop a rotting log observing them both. The feline's tail swished back and forth. It leapt to the ground where it proceeded to give a very prolonged and unhurried stretch, furry body bending like a bow and clawed paws scratching through the loam.

Upon working all the kinks out, Yoruichi Shihoin trotted on over and said in a deceptively deep voice, "That will be all for today, Soifon."

"My lady." The loyal servant of the Shihoin placed fist in palm with a bow. In that position, a breeze blew through the trees, and she vanished like smoke.

Once they were alone, Yoruichi cocked a look up at her son. "She got you all hot and bothered, I see."

"That creep just makes me so mad!" Noboru dropped to his knees and cast a beseeching look at his polymorphed parent. "Can't you go back to teaching me? Please? I'm not learning anything, really, she just kicks me around and then asks for permission to breathe! It's stupid!"

"Actually, you've improved a great deal under Feng's tutelage," the cat stated dryly. "Far faster than under someone with whom you're completely at ease." She fixed him with a penetrating look then. "How else to explain you knew I was here before I even spoke?"

"You let me know," he protested.

"Take your victories when you've earned them, kiddo. I'm proud of you." The blazing smile he now wore made his mother's heart sing, though it was not evident on her feline features. "But that can wait. Right now, there's something very important we need to discuss."

Still in her four-legged disguise, Yoruichi led the suddenly anxious youth over to a fallen tree trunk where they both sat facing one another. Once they were settled in Noboru threw her a worried look. "Am I going to have to hide again?"

The cat cocked its head. "Would that be so awful?"

"I like it there!" he exclaimed, his face unbearably young even for someone who had barely lived a century. "Kon and Ganju are so much fun, they're always up for a scrap! There's a whole lot of girls too, cute ones, and funny, some are scary, or just plain weird. But I love living with Aunt Rukia! Please don't tell me I have to stop."

"Easy, tiger," her gentle voice soothed his fears just like that. "Your life's about to change, but not in the way you think. It's something that affects all of us, you and Rukia especially."

She drew a deep breath before continuing. "The clans have met. There's going to be a marriage."

Noboru flinched. His spine stiffened, and his nose scrunched up in indignation as he declared firmly, "No."

"Come again?" Yoruichi blinked.

"I don't want Aunt Rukia to marry that carrot-headed ogre!" Noboru had found his feet and began pacing the forest floor, clutching his hands beneath his armpits in agitation. "He gets dumber and uglier every time I see him!"

"What makes you think I wasn't talking about you?"

"Oh, mama," he intoned disagreeably. "There's no way you'd let me get married before you. And I'm serious! You need to help me convince Baa-san that she can do a lot better than Numb-Nuts Kurosaki! That guy's face belongs on a wanted poster in the local post office."

The tiny black critter had taken to licking a paw and rubbing it over her head and ears. "These things aren't necessarily decided by us. The clans have a say in their own running as well. And they're absolutely right in pointing out that we need to inject new blood into the lines before any more unexpected disasters crop up. What, did you think Rukia was going to stay single forever?"

He stopped pacing and crossed his arms in a haughty manner. "Then I'll marry her!"

This bold declaration brought a snort in response, and he dropped down to all fours before her. "I'm serious, Mom! There isn't that big of an age difference between us when you get right down to it. And it's not like this sort of thing has never happened in the clans before. Even if it isn't quite kosher, it's not as if Baa-san and I are really related by blood! Plus we don't need to have the wedding now, we could just set an engagement in another fifty years or so. By then I'll be grown up and she'll probably have forgotten all about that fresa."

"Don't be so sure. Although you're certainly not the most unusual suitor to ever come forward for Rukia's hand," Yoruichi admitted. "You should have seen Byakuya's face when Mayuri Kurotsuchi put in a proposal. We nearly lost another captain right on the spot!"

Unfamiliar with the name, Noboru flopped back on his hands with a groan. The mention of Byakuya Kuchiki had caused his stomach to sink. Despite having lived with Rukia for over a year now, he still had never even clapped eyes on the man she so respectfully called Nii-sama. Which was nothing different than the last 100 years of his life, but still, he was starting to grow rather dissatisfied with that particular arrangement. It made him feel like an embarrassing relative that everyone avoided talking about because they spent most of their time in prison. His toes dug through the layer of leaves and dirt as he studied the ground intently for a while.

The black cat came padding up to him. "I know," she sighed with maternal prescience. "You want to meet him. You want to stop hiding. Well, I've got good news on that score, son of mine. Today's the day."

He peered at her through the fall of black bangs. Despite the impossibility in her current shape, he couldn't shake the suspicion that Yoruichi was smiling at him. "What day?" Suspicion warred with excitement in those two words.

"You're finally going to meet your father."

Uncertain if he had heard correctly, Noboru stared at her.

"Try not to look so shocked. It was bound to happen eventually. Think of it as an early birthday gift." Yoruichi sprang up and began to sidle off into the trees. "Come along, my saucy son. We've got some appointments to keep. Afterwards we'll stop off at the Usagi Shoten and explain a few things to Rukia. She needs to be informed considering what this entails for her."

The black tail arched up into a question mark. Noboru followed obediently along. "Afterwards we'll pay a visit to your father. He's handling the other side of this conversation, as it were. It's a two-pronged assault. The only thing left to wonder is who'll drop dead of a heart attack when they hear the news!"

Mother and son then stole away to plot their new enterprise together.

---

"Who… what are you?" Minagi whispered breathlessly.

Shaking with dread and exhilaration, she gazed up at the tall moonlit figure looming over her. Moonlight glinted off his glasses as he cast a stern look upon the tiny girl in a school uniform cowering at his feet. A few paces off the creature that had attacked her had dissolved into a bubbling patch of greyish-green goop. Casually the slender fighter tucked the glowing object he had retrieved from its corpse into his belt.

His steely blue eyes then took note of the wound on her calve where it had clawed her, and Minagi quailed at the look that came over his thin handsome features.

"You've been marked, girl," the white-clad champion intoned, tossing the silvery half-cape he wore over one shoulder. At first she thought he meant to draw his unusual weapon again to dispatch her, and for a few seconds the traumatized high-schooler felt certain she would faint.

Instead her savior reached back into his remarkably well-stocked pack to produce a silver tube. He then bent down to carefully grasp her ankle without so much as a by-your leave. Minagi nearly protested at this invasion of her personal space, but was stalled by the icy look he cast her way. Wordlessly she watched him proceed to examine her injury before pouring a strange glowing blue liquid over it. It burned with cold, and she nearly cried out. It felt like ice flowing mercilessly through her veins.

"Hold still," the frigid fighter growled. "If I don't neutralize the venom, by sundown tomorrow you'll be just another brainless undead thing scavenging the living like that wretch back there." He indicated over his shoulder at the expired zombie monster.

Unsure of what any of this meant, Minagi consented to allow him to tend to her.

As he tended to her wound, the warrior studied this girl closely. There was something about her he couldn't put his finger on. For some reason it made him think of his older sister, lost now these many moons after an attack by the Lagrima. Not that there was any sort of physical resemblance. No, it was more like… a presentiment of the same power that dwelled in their family. The psychopomp frowned to himself darkly. Could his senses be misleading him? How could a mere mortal like this possess any sort of power comparable to that shared only in his ancient clan? Yet she had undoubtedly rescued him back there when the Lagrima looked ready to end his life. Whether she realized it or not, this miniscule human possessed abilities that just might very well be the answer to the question that had been ceaselessly hounding his thoughts lo these many centuries.

Could she possibly be…?

"What's your name, human?" he asked in a coldly curious tone.

She blinked, meeting his gaze for a moment before looking timidly away. "Ichimaru. Ichimaru Minagi."

"What kind of a name is 'Ichimaru'?"

Clutching her skirt in both hands, an anxious Michiru Ogawa looked up at the speaker. Chiyoko, president of the Creative Writing Club, stared disapprovingly back from her seat in the round-robin arrangement of chairs.

"I mean, it sounds like some old samurai clan from back in the Warring States era. And why call the zombies 'Lagrima' anyway?"

The other club members took this as their cue and started unloading on the writer of this short story.

"You know, throwing in foreign words doesn't really add anything important, Michiru-chan. It just breaks the mood and really pulls you out of the story. And I really think you need to watch how many times you repeat the same word, it's a really bad habit."

"I totally lost count of how many adverbs you actually had in that one paragraph. It must've been, like, nearly fifty."

"And the purple prose! My gosh, Ogawa-kun, take a break from the thesaurus, why don't you! I had to go back and forth checking out various variations of vintage vocabulary. Stick to words everybody knows!"

"Were you trying to make sentences that are alliterative, Ogawa? I couldn't tell."

The trembling teen sat enduring this barrage of criticism. Wasn't there anything you liked about it? She wanted to ask but didn't dare. It was all she could do to keep from leaping up and dashing from the classroom crying.

As if sensing this, Chiyoko held up a hand for silence. She then leaned in and adopted a more conciliatory tone.

"Ogawa-san, we're not trying to make you feel bad about your writing. You've actually got a lot of talent when you come right down to it. What I'm trying to say is that your stories don't attempt anything new. It's all previously covered territory. Changing hair color or names isn't enough; it's still just a disjointed hodgepodge of the same themes we've all read in a million different manga. 'Vanished sibling', 'incredible hidden power', 'schoolgirl chased by zombies', 'awesome hard-bitten warrior seeking redemption'. It's all been done before! Nothing makes you want to keep reading because you know exactly where it's going to go. There's just no desire to learn what happens next!"

Eyes wandering over the floor, Michiru soaked up what amounted to the same thing as ever: they didn't want to hear anything she had to say. She now only wished that they hurry up and move on to another member's submission.

Two more short stories were critiqued and analyzed before the club convened. Nobody spoke to her as they exited the classroom, and Michiru was left to pack up her things alone. The Writing Club only met once a week, so it didn't take her away from Handicrafts Club much. All the same, she never felt this awful after messing up a lanyard. Maybe it was time to quit?

Her footsteps echoed through the empty halls of the school as she trudged to the front gate where Kon was already waiting with one of the Kurosaki siblings, Yuzu. Their clubs tended to finish at about the same time. She was disappointed to find it wouldn't be Ishida walking them home today. The world seemed out to deflate her hopes at every turn.

"Hello, Ogawa-senpai!" the effusive middle-schooler ran around her in a circle, brimming with energy and good cheer. It actually served to lift Michiru's spirits a little. Was I ever that happy in middle school?

"Hi Yuzu-chan, Kon-kun." She tried to put on a brave face for their sake.

Kon took one look at her and whistled mournfully. "Another fun day at the Target Practice Club, huh, little lady? What did they have to say this time?"

"It's nothing," she waved off his concerns as they started down the street. "They're just trying to help me improve."

"Huh," he grunted, transmitting a great deal of disbelief with that one utterance. "Rugby players take less damage."

Still the mod soul didn't press it any further, just took up step beside her, for which she was glad. Some of the other club members had noticed him sometimes waiting for her after school and asked if he was her boyfriend. Michiru made it clear that wasn't the case. It would have been harder to explain the reason why she needed a bodyguard.

The trip passed uneventfully. Yuzu gabbled excitedly on the latest findings of her Paranormal Activity Club, unaware that the young man taking them home could be counted as that very same thing. Michiru hardly talked most of the time, so she wasn't concerned about letting anything slip that might get the younger girl asking questions. There hadn't been anything scary since the big bat incident. Still, it didn't hurt to be careful. Her house was farther away; they would stop by the Kurosaki Clinic first to drop off Yuzu before completing the rest of the journey. Everyone else in the Karakura Otherwordly Paranormal Society had their own appointed guardians to make sure no Hollows came sniffing around. The roster shifted from one day to the next thanks to an incredibly complicated ladder game system that Orihime Inoue had cooked up which only seemed to make sense to her. Kunieda once posited it resembled something called a sephiroth in Hebrew scripture, although Orihime insisted she had never heard of such a thing and the idea for the system just popped into her head.

Michiru felt dispirited after working so hard on that last story and still being picked on. She even had chapter two already written and was heavy into chapter three, but now the motivation to continue had disappeared. Maybe Kon was right and she should find another group to join. This one wasn't doing much for her self-esteem. Too many after-school activities. The K.O.P.S. still hadn't agreed on what they would be presenting for the school talent show next semester, the last of their high school career. Not like they could bring a ghost up onstage. Well, still time to think of something.

In no time they were at Yuzu's house. The girl led them inside and slipped off her shoes still talking non-stop. "… so watch out for clowns, because they might be from outer space!" Her brain then seemed to switch gears without warning, and she turned to Michiru with a smile. "Senpai, do you want to stay for dinner? I've got a big meal planned for tonight since Rukia-chan is coming over!"

Ogawa considered the offer. Mom had sent an email letting her know she would be late getting back from work. There wouldn't be anyone waiting for her at home. No sense moping around an empty house. "That sounds great. Thanks."

The cheerful kid laughed and went skipping off into the kitchen. "I'll make some snacks while you guys wait! Just give me a few minutes!"

Kon trotted by after taking off his shoes. " 'Scuse me, kid," he grinned at Michiru. "Gotta go hit the head!" He then made a beeline upstairs for the bathroom. Alone for the moment, she wandered into the living area. It didn't look like anybody else was home yet. Dr. Kurosaki hadn't accosted them, which was a relief. Ichigo and Karin would show up after their own clubs were finished. Nanao Ise wasn't around either. That meant there was no one to talk to.

Michiru picked up a magazine from the coffee table and flipped through it. None of the articles caught her attention, and the sight of the printed words inevitably got her thinking about her story again. She dropped the magazine with a huff and crossed her arms. Why did they have to be so mean? It's not like manga artists don't copy themes from one another all the time! I should be able to use a few established tropes without getting yelled at! It's not fair!

Her major concern had been that someone would call her on an entirely different matter. Namely, that several of the characters were modeled after people she knew in real life. Anyone else that read her work wouldn't have to take too big a leap to figure out just who the male protagonist was based on. This was the only source of relief for the aspiring author. Was it wrong of her to dream a little, at least on paper? Even when accompanying her home as he sometimes did nowadays, Michiru could never find a topic of conversation that interested him. He didn't seem aware of her presence, which was both a relief and a disappointment. She wasn't comfortable discussing this with anybody else. It was just too embarrassing! Not to mention personal. And it wasn't even the craziest imaginary romance she had going on.

I wonder if the rest of my class has this kind of problem? Well, Kon, obviously, but he was much more up front about it than she could ever hope to be. That kind of confidence was something she could only envy, no matter how perverted. Of course he was a superhero in a way. He fought monsters for a living, and rescued people. What could she lay claim to up 'til now? Nothing important ever happened to her.

Michiru's introspection was interrupted by the doorbell. From the kitchen Yuzu called out, "Senpai, can you get that? I've got my hands full here!"

"Okay!" She hopped up and trotted to the front door. Wonder who it could be? For some reason she found herself imagining a tall handsome stranger waiting on the other side to whisk her away to a fabulous island paradise. Maybe I could write a story along those lines?

When she opened the door, to her mild dismay there was no smoldering heartthrob waiting. No one she recognized either. Just a bent old man with gray hair and a moustache. He was dressed in very expensive-looking formal wear, and his eyes were almost completely closed.

"Good afternoon." The elderly gentleman nodded to her in a dismissive sort of way. "Am I addressing the lady of the house?"

"The… what?" Michiru responded uncertainly.

"Forgive our unannounced arrival. We have come to discuss urgent business with the master of the Kurosaki household."

Still confused, the teen pondered. Someone was standing behind him she couldn't quite see owing to her short height, and… was that a limo parked in front of the house? Was Don Kanonji visiting again? The old stranger remained waiting expectantly for her answer. Were they here to see Dr. Kurosaki? Maybe this was someone involved in the medical community. Well, Kon's around, so there's probably nothing to be worried about.

"Are you here for the clinic? Kurosaki-sensei isn't home right now. Would you like to come in and wait for him?" She stepped slightly behind the door and indicated for them to enter.

"We accept your generous offer." He then smoothly slid to one side and bowed. "It is my honor to present His Highness Kuchiki Byakuya."

Michiru blinked. Her line of thought faltered, for as the emissary retired, she finally got her first good look at the person behind him.

He's wearing a kimono.

That was her first impression.

It looks expensive.

That was her second impression.

He's… GORGEOUS.

Michiru had seen good-looking men before in magazines, and on television. Male beauty was nothing unprecedented for a girl of her generation. Which might make her somewhat immured, not liable to swoon at just another pretty face. Yet right then it suddenly dawned on her that with these mediums there had always been a measure of… distance, one might call it. They were separated from her in space and time.

She now found herself sharing very close space with a man so handsome it somehow didn't seem fair. He wasn't too tall, but all the same, Michiru couldn't shake the feeling that he towered over her like a god. His hair was black and gleaming like liquid cabochons. A set of hairpieces caused three long locks to fall over his brow. One look from his half-lidded gray eyes made her want to drop to her knees and abase herself. His face was… perfect! Older than her, although still young, and perfect. She didn't drop that word too often in life, but there was no doubt it applied here. No lines where they shouldn't be, skin gleaming with health and not a single blemish, exquisitely shaped nose, impeccably maintained eyebrows, lips that she couldn't stop staring at for both hoping and dreading that he might speak.

Instead the aristocrat said not a word as he drifted past her with utmost grace and self-assurance. His servant followed afterwards. Michiru turned to watch them go. Every move he made held her spellbound. She could have watched him cut coupons and it would have been the greatest event in human history.

Yuzu came out of the kitchen to see who it was, and immediately fell under his spell. It was obvious. She could no more speak than Michiru, and lapsed into a fit of childish giggles while indicating for them to retire to the living room. Kon came running down the stairs and froze with one foot hanging in midair as that unearthly presence passed. Yuzu rushed back into the kitchen and came out carrying a platter filled with snacks. It felt like they were being visited by the Emperor of Japan, this angelic being, this… Byakuya Kuchiki.

Hey, hold on, that's the same last name as…

Snapping out of her cloud of adoration, Michiru scuttled across the foyer and peered around a wall to reassure herself he hadn't disappeared like a ghost. Which, in fact, he just might be!

When she was satisfied this was not the case, the girl darted back out of sight so he couldn't see. Her cellphone was in her rigid grip before she could even think to do so. Concentrating to keep both hands from trembling, she laboriously typed out a message with as much care as if her life depended on it.

About to send this text, Michiru found herself glancing around the corner again to get another look at him. Oh my, oh my, oh yes! Something wonderful has happened! The world is good after all!

Her thumb clicked the 'Send' button, and then she went back to more important matters.

---

Elsewhere in Karakura, several girls who belonged to the Karakura Otherworldly Paranormal Society looked at their phones as a message popped up. From Michiru? Wonder what she wants. Let's see…

'I'm at Kurosaki's! Get over here RIGHT NOW! Rukia-chan's BROTHER is here!'

Those words caught the immediate attention of those involved. This particular point had been a source of conversation for some while now. They all knew Rukia had an older brother who was a bigshot in the afterlife, but none of them had ever laid eyes on him. This led to a sense of mystery that prompted much speculation on the topic.

There followed a great slamming of doors, revving of engines, beating of feet and pedaling of bicycles. By some odd twist of chance, everyone who was coming arrived at the exact same time. Kunieda Ryō nodded to an out-of-breath Mahana Natsui as she stepped out of a black sedan, while Tatsuki Arisawa had to jump out of the way as Chizuru Honsho ground her bike to a halt. When everyone confirmed the reason for their being there, they all went up and knocked on the door. Michiru opened it right away and beckoned them in.

"Hey, Michiru-cha-" Chizuru started.

"SHHH!"

None of them could ever remember seeing Ogawa so animated, so fierce. It was unprecedented in any of their experience. Without a word she indicated they should come in again before turning to race back inside. Some uncertain looks were exchanged but eventually all the girls followed. Upon closing the door they noticed their classmate with her back to them as she engaged in peeking around a corner. Without looking behind Michiru made a gesture to come closer. Now thoroughly perplexed, the group sidled along the corridor until coming up behind her.

"Look," was all she said.

They did so, some crouching down or peering over Michiru's shoulder depending on the height difference, until they all got a good look at what had brought them here.

Sitting seiza on a cushion in the den of the Kurosaki house, Byakuya Kuchiki accepted a cup of steaming tea proffered to him by the child who seemed to be in charge of refreshments. He examined its aroma, and was pleased, earning the server a discreet nod of approval. In response her mouth fell open and a childish titter came out. Face red as an apple, she quickly hid behind a platter before darting back into the kitchen past the gaggle of girls without seeming to notice them, still giggling without stop.

For a time nobody moved.

Then as one the high-schoolers all withdrew to slump to the floor with a chorus of identical ecstatic moans.

Byakuya took a sip of his drink before setting it on the tantobon table, eyes closed and hands resting in his lap as he continued to wait with no outward sign of disturbance and an aura of tangible majesty.

A faint noise came to his ears. When he opened his eyes, the lord of Seireitei found he was now surrounded by several kneeling human females all staring at him with a pronounced intensity and some very brittle twitchy smiles.

Slowly his steel-gray eyes traveled from one rosy-cheeked face to another.

"Hi-i-i-i…" one of them managed before lapsing back into silence.

In response, Byakuya simply picked up his tea and took another slow, thoughtful sip.

---

"How was your soccer practice, Karin-chan?" Orihime Inoue asked.

"I kicked the ball and it hit the goalie in the face. He started bleeding and crying, so they called the game off."

"Oh."

Ichigo continued walking along together with Orihime while Karin practiced bouncing a soccer ball with just her knees. He was their lookout today, and now that the handicrafts and sports activities were over they were on the way back home. His mind remained preoccupied by the upcoming dinner with Rukia, for once crowding out any concerns about kidō practice or inner Hollows or ghosts of any particular stripe. Although technically Rukia qualified as a spirit herself, just in human form now. Allowing them to make contact, pretty much all the regular business you could get up to with your girlfriend, touch and hold one another…

He shook his head. Get it together, man! Ever since Rukia's return to the human world, the heretofore uncharted territory in their relationship had started to become more evident. For starters, his girlfriend was over a century old, and looks aside, she didn't quite have the same compulsions as a person his age. Not that he was complaining. They'd agreed to take it slow right from the start. No sense getting anybody in trouble, him or her. That was the smart thing to do, and he'd supported the decision whole-heartedly at the time.

Only just the other day, he'd seen Rukia bite a length of thread while sewing a little rabbit patch on a shirt, and the sight was somehow so erotic he'd had to excuse himself and splash cold water on his face until he was more… presentable. Even thinking about it now…

Ichigo shut his eyes tight and took a deep breath. He felt the sun shining warm on his face and heard traffic in the street. Let it pass, and keep on going.

Until this point in his life he didn't remember thinking about… intimacy quite this much. But that was before he actually had someone to share it with. Which was what people regularly did at this age. He was in his junior year in high school now. There was a lot more to keep track of, preparing for entrance exams and trying to select a good university. The kendo club was a lot of fun. It helped to occupy his thoughts, and being surrounded by a bunch of smelly guys stuffed into armor kept his mind from wandering to girls pretty effectively. Or at least it had up until now.

Was it the inevitable approach of spring? Might that be what was contributing to his situation? Or maybe just the inherent wackiness of it all. He was in love with a ghost. And he was a teenager. With newly discovered interests that didn't involve beating people to a pulp. But even bringing up that topic with Rukia was far beyond his current level of mental discipline. He loved being with her, and being near her. They still fought at the drop of a hat, of course, and Kon was breathing down his neck at every damn opportunity. But sometimes when they were yelling full tilt at one another, or even just sitting together quietly, he thought about seizing Rukia and kissing her so bad, don't question, just do it…!

No, perhaps regular people didn't have it quite as hard as him.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

He gave a guilty start. "Y-yeah?"

Orihime didn't seem to attribute anything to his reaction. "Have you noticed anything different about Tatsuki lately?"

"No," he quickly supplied, then glanced over at her as the question fully sank in. "Like what?"

She studied his face for a while before turning back. "There's just something off about her. She seems… pale, maybe? Or thin… stretched? I can't put my finger on it. But it worries me. I've tried talking to her, and she insists it's nothing. Still, after everything that happened…"

He checked to see if Karin was still walking a few paces ahead of them and took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Any bad dreams?"

Inoue shook her head no, orange hair flying. "None. He hasn't shown up again. But I did notice it only after we got back. Sometimes I can't get ahold of her and she doesn't answer her phone. And Tatsuki's very proud. She prefers to fight her own battles! I don't know what to think, but maybe she's gotten involved with something bad! Like a gang, or drugs, or international espionage!"

"Maybe she's got a boyfriend."

Surprised, they both turned to look at Karin. The younger girl threw a look over her shoulder that dripped with adolescent contempt. "I'm not deaf. And you're right behind me. What do you expect?" She then went back to performing tricks with her soccer ball.

Ichigo and Orihime stared at her, then each other. "Well," he hazarded. "I guess…"

"It could be… maybe." Inoue's brow furrowed as she tried to digest this particular possibility. "It would be nice if it's something normal like that. Not scary or dangerous like the other stuff in our lives. But what would a guy who dates Tatsuki look like?" Her mind immediately got to work. "He'd have to be strong, and muscular, and likes to fight, and not your average person, and good at taking a beating, and…"

"You just described Kenpachi Zaraki." Ichigo winced at his own words.

"Oh. You're right." Orihime thought about it a little more before turning a cheerful smile on him. "Did you just think of Kenpachi and Tatsuki getting married? Like with him in a tuxedo and her in a wedding dress? I can see them walking down the aisle together, it'd be so beautiful! Although maybe Tatsuki would be in a white tuxedo instead… does that mean Zaraki would have to wear a black dress?"

Ichigo's treacherous imagination conjured up the requisite mental image without his permission.

The revulsion burned so bad he actually flinched away, closing his eyes with a hiss. Something else! Think of something else! Anything! Trees, the ocean, training, Rukia, houses, concrete, captain, little black spaghetti-strap dress with frills and Zaraki's eyepatch and scars and that one crazy eye and GODDAMMIT!

"Oops, here's my house!" The busty redhead went skipping up the pathway leading to her home without noticing the psychic anguish trailing in her wake. She dug in her bag for the key and turned back to wave goodbye. "Thanks for walking me home, guys! See you tomorrow, Kurosaki-kun!" A second later the door slammed and she was gone.

Karin appraised her elder brother critically. "Ichi-nii, did you just cough up blood?"

"Don't worry about it," he rasped, dragging a fist across his chin. Ichigo's face had a look like he had just gone eight rounds with the world heavyweight champion and wasn't looking forward to Round 9. "Let's just get home so I can lie down."

They proceeded to do so. In no time at all brother and sister were traveling down the block that led up to their building. Ichigo noted the 'Closed' sign in the window of the Kurosaki Clinic adjoining the house. It looked like Dad had shut up shop early today. Maybe to get supplies?

"Ichi-nii? Why's there a limo in front of our house?"

Huh? The substitute shinigami looked up to find he had walked right past a sleek black vehicle. Its presence befuddled him until he realized it probably belonged to Don Kanonji. That figures. There was word of him having a new show in the works, which meant a rebranding and publicity tour. Kanonji no doubt was looking to celebrate. Ichigo braced himself for the goofy showboat's onslaught as he opened the door and led them inside.

The next thing he knew, his sister Yuzu was leading him by the hand to sit him down in the kitchen without a word.

"Hey, what…?" Ichigo asked.

"Yoh."

Across from him sat Kon, who seemed to be engrossed in spinning a coaster round and around on the table. Their eyes met for a brief second after which his old housemate went back to this pastime with a fixed intensity that seemed unnatural. Ichigo swiveled around in his seat to spy Yuzu bustling about the kitchen, measuring things, adjusting seasoning in several dishes, checking heat settings, basically never standing still for an instant.

"She's making bird's nest soup now," the mod soul drawled. "For him."

Kon indicated down the hall, and Ichigo turned to look. He had been expecting something weird. But nothing like this.

That was Byakuya Kuchiki sitting in his living room surrounded by several of the girls he knew from school, specifically those involved in the more otherworldly aspects of his life. They were just… staring at him while he drew something on a table.

Ichigo looked to Kon for guidance, only to find the mod had resumed spinning the coaster to the exclusion of all else. He turned around. "Yuzu, what's–?"

"Yeah, don't bother," Kon grunted. "She lost the ability to speak as soon as the Emperor of Heaven walked in the door."

The confused high-schooler was about to inquire further, thought better of it, and stood up from the table. He moved back down the hall, passing Karin who was leaning against a wall watching the bizarre spectacle playing out in their home in laconic fascination. Ichigo stepped into the room and cleared his throat.

"Hey, Byakuya, what's up?"

The pen stilled in its journey across the paper, and four pairs of blazing feminine eyes snapped upon him so murderously it actually made Ichigo jump back.

"Master Kurosaki, well met."

Shuddering, he looked to his right to find a stooped old man bowing forward. This person was familiar, but while a name escaped him as usual, in this instance he realized it had more to do with never having been told the old guy's name than any inability to recall faces. If memory served this was the majordomo to the Kuchiki clan back in Soul Society.

"His Grace Lord Kuchiki has deigned to visit your dwelling in order to discuss certain matters with your honored father," the grey-haired servant continued. "Since this deals directly with lofty matters of our realm's most prestigious entities, you no doubt understand we cannot go into great detail on the nature of our business at this time. But please allow me to extend Lord Kuchiki's gratitude for the use of your home. We hope you will not be too inconvenienced by our presence."

Ichigo had assumed a suspicious look by this point. "Uhhh… yeah." He noticed then that the girls had all gone back to gazing rapturously while Byakuya continued with what turned out to be a calligraphy demonstration. By not even the slightest movement did they or Lord Kuchiki bother to acknowledge his presence. "Hey, Byakuya, I want to–"

"Here are some fresh pine branches I just cut, Lord Kuchiki!" Michiru Ogawa came running in from the back of the house holding a bunch of boughs in her arms. "They have a really nice scent, don't you think?"

She then went racing by Ichigo, who stood stunned. What is going on?

Mahana Natsui looked up beaming from a plate covered in orange rinds. "I finished peeling the oranges, Kuchiki-sama. Would you like some?"

Neither this statement nor the previous one gained any response from the man in question. Yet being ignored like this didn't seem to faze the girls one bit. They just clustered all the closer around him while Byakuya finished with his current work and began scraping his ink stone in preparation of the next. Tatsuki reached out and picked up the completed sheet to lay it reverently beside several others on the couch.

Ichigo felt a disturbing shiver travel up his spine. Absolutely nothing in the last few minutes made sense. It was like they were all hypnotized! Is this some kind of shinigami magic I'm not aware of? Has he got them under a memory spell or something? Did Nanao not bother to teach me anything along these lines for fear I might abuse it?

"Kuchiki-sama, are you feeling hot? Would you like me to fan you again?" Chizuru Honsho sang.

What the hell?! This startled Ichigo out of his paralysis. "Wait a minute… Honsho-san, you can't be in on this!"

She actually looked at him. "Why not?"

"Well, I mean…" He blushed at the thought, but the sheer absurdity of his situation motivated him past any social anxieties. "You're gay! Right?!"

To his horror, the outspoken lesbian merely gave him a scornful look and stated, "No one's that gay," before turning back to gazing dreamily at Byakuya with a sappy smile on her face.

Her classmate could barely speak he was so outraged. "YES YOU ARE! You said all men are cave salamanders compared to women! You grope the girls in our class every chance you get! The principal had to talk to you about it! They put you in counseling! The police were called twice! You even–!"

"Put a cork in it, Ichigo!" Tatsuki snapped without turning her head.

He looked at her in wounded betrayal. Tatsuki, not you too! The flabbergasted youth took a few steps back and stood by Karin, who remained slouched in her spot against the wall observing. The girls resumed clamoring over their aloof idol. "Can you believe this?" he whispered to his sister.

"Uh-huh."

"I mean, look at them! It's like they're possessed!"

"Uh-huh."

He crossed his arms, feeling frustrated and uncertain about what to do next. "This is beyond weird. Should we call an exorcist? Maybe Don Kanonji could pay us a visit!"

"Uh-huh."

About to speak again, he paused and looked down at her. His tomboy sister continued to watch the proceedings with disinterest. But now it finally dawned on him… she hadn't really responded to anything he said. "Karin?" he asked hesitantly.

"Uh-huh."

His body went cold. No… no, it couldn't be! Sweating, Ichigo raised a hand and held it before her face. Karin stood on tiptoes to see over it. When he lifted his arm to compensate, she irritably swatted it aside. "Cut it out, Ichi-nii, you're being a pest!" Afterwards she went right back to staring.

The bottom dropped out of Ichigo's world.

"That's a magnificent kimono you're wearing, Your Lordship," Kunieda Ryō stated in a disturbingly animated voice. "Is it custom-made?"

At this his temper flared and he rounded on the group of zombies. "Y'know, I've got a kimono too!" he snapped with ill-concealed irritation. "I could go put it on and you can drool over me if that's all it takes!"

At this a quintet of demons sprang straight from hell.

"SHUT UP, SCUM!"

"DON'T YOU DARE COMPARE YOURSELF TO KUCHIKI-SAMA!"

"THE FINEST KIMONO WOULD JUST BE A POTATO SACK ON A BRISTLY BEAST LIKE YOU!"

"TRY THAT AGAIN AND I'LL KICK YOUR ASS, ICHIGO!"

"YOU'RE THE WORST, KUROSAKI-SAN!"

Ichigo reeled from this barrage of feminine fury, feeling his life was in danger like never before. They continued in their invectives, threats and tearful accusations pouring out in a shrill jumble of words. He stared aghast at their furious faces.

At that moment, with the girls' backs all turned to him, Byakuya Kuchiki's eyes opened ever so slightly. They focused on Ichigo.

The faintest, tiniest, most satisfied smile tugged at the corners of the shinigami captain's lips, before once more lapsing back into a paragon of lordliness.

A roaring started in his head. That egomaniacal rich sleazebag!

"All right, listen up! This is my house, and you can't just–!"

"Ichigo!"

When he spun around it was to find his Dad wearing a surprised look on his face. Behind him Nanao Ise was closing the front door, purple eyes narrowed behind her glasses. The two of them approached him, glancing over into the family room at the same time…

Next thing he knew, Ichigo was back in the kitchen, only now the girls were with him. Nanao gave them all a look that cut right through whatever fantasy land they had been living in before heading back to join Isshin, who now sat before Byakuya. The two of them began to speak in low voices.

Everyone sat without talking. The only sound came from Yuzu still obsessively bustling about in preparation of their meal. All the high school girls were peering despondently down the hall where the adults were holding their discussion out of earshot.

At last when he couldn't take it anymore, Ichigo blurted out, "You know I kicked his ass back in Soul Society, don't you?!"

Mahana snorted without turning her head. "Yeah, sure you did."

"And I suppose they declared you King of the Afterlife afterwards?" The normally aloof Ryō continued to ignore him, though not for the regular reasons, which served to make it less bearable than usual.

"Don't worry about him, he's just blue-balled," Tatsuki declared.

This casual pronouncement reoriented the attention of a great many people sitting around the kitchen table. It did what very little had proven capable of, in that it served to draw the girls' attention away from Byakuya and onto Ichigo. However, he could not take advantage of this to press his case since his brain had slipped into autonomous mode, the better to process a heady mixture of anger, shame, humiliation, and full-blown homicidal rage.

Tatsuki seemingly took no notice of how the color had drained out of Ichigo's face. "He and Rukia haven't even kissed yet, can you believe it?"

"Is that true, Kurosaki-san?" Michiru Ogawa, of all people, looked at him with something akin to disappointment.

"Well, I guess we can't expect too much from a boy." Chizuru gave a disapproving shake of her head. "But I do feel sorry for Rukia. A spirited filly like her needs more than a juvenile kindergarten version of love."

"I know what you mean," Michiru sighed in return. She and Chizuru actually clasped hands in feminine commiseration before drifting back to gazing with utmost longing at the brooding lord deep in conversation down the hall.

Still coming to terms with what he had just heard, Ichigo suddenly noticed Kon giving him a very strange look.

"What?" he demanded.

The other youth said nothing.

Annoyance overrode all else. "You got something on your mind? Spit it out!"

The mod's mouth opened on the verge of speaking. His jaw worked up and down like he was biting back words. At last he gave a muttered curse and sprang up to go striding out of the kitchen. None of the ladies seemed to notice his departure.

On the verge of leaving, however, Kon suddenly spun about and said in a tight, hoarse voice, "You are a screw-up!"

He then stalked out of the house, leaving Ichigo more shocked than ever.

---

Rukia looked between mother and son, her eyes shining. "May… I tell Ichigo?!"

"Of course!" Yoruichi laughed. "But only because I called dibs on Byakuya." She then wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth, grinning. "Oh, I tell you, this is what family's all about: watching your loved ones' faces when you tell them really, really great news!"

While the two women remained caught in the throes of gleeful rapture, Noboru was squirming anxiously in his seat. "So can we go now?"

His mother hopped up. "Right! Let's not keep our menfolk waiting any longer than necessary!" She proceeded to march out of the room and go striding down the halls of the Usagi Shoten. Behind her Rukia and Noboru looked at one another for a moment. The same nervous smiles touched their faces, before they stood and moved in pursuit.

Soon enough they were all in the front of the shop. Rukia held back to talk to Ganju and Ururu, letting them know where she would be in case anything happened. Neither of them asked what this was about. Perhaps they had already guessed?

It's written all over your face, sweetheart. You're glowing.

Am I? Well, if you say so. I've just… waited so long to hear it!

Amen to that.

It was late afternoon. One or two regular customers poked about, and she exchanged greetings with them before moving past. Yoruichi and Noboru were waiting for her by the entrance. The cat goddess wore a white tank-top with spaghetti straps that showed off stomach and shoulders, with a pair of bellbottom jeans and leather sandals. Her hair remained up in a ponytail that swung from side to side owing to the restless energy which had never been more evident than now. Beside her Noboru's usually messy hair had been combed into a manageable shape. This had been Rukia's contribution to his appearance while Yoruichi wrestled socks and shoes onto his normally bare feet, much to the youngster's distress. With a crisply ironed white dress shirt and charcoal gray pants, their little urchin now looked the part of a respectable young man, marred only by the toothpick wiggling back and forth in his teeth. Reaching out, she plucked the harmless seeming implement free and held it before him, casting a quick glance at the shoppers to make sure they weren't looking.

"Something more dignified?" she prodded him softly.

The boy looked at her, then at his disguised soul cutter, face scrunching in concentration. After a few moments what had been a well-chewed toothpick was now an artfully carved wooden comb that smelled of sandalwood. She nodded in approval and slipped it into the breast pocket of his shirt.

Yoruichi watched their interaction with affectionate curiosity. It did not escape her attention that Noboru could not seem to stand still, a sure sign of just how much trepidation he was really feeling. In response she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He reached up and grabbed on tight, her strong fingers settling between his own.

Upon observing this Rukia took his free hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The tension visibly eased out of Noboru's body. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I'm ready."

Without letting go the three of them walked together across the lot and over to the street where a taxi idled. They climbed in, a destination was specified, and then they were off.

Nobody spoke during the drive. Noboru didn't let go of her hand. Rukia wasn't surprised to find him so in need of comfort. This was a very big day for him. For all of them, actually. She looked out the window, watching the trees and houses go by. Pedestrians walked the streets without concern. It was just another untroubled afternoon for them. The idea held a sort of fondness for her. What they were involved in right now was the type of thing that happened every day around here. Unlike so much else in her existence, for this she could stop a random person on the street to tell them about it and expect no hint of distress. Up until now she had protected these average everyday moments experienced by others, but somehow without even realizing it, her own world had come to embrace such normalcy. Rukia felt a part of it now; no longer an outsider or an observer, but an actual member of the living world. Perhaps it wasn't true and she was just deceiving herself. But in a way it felt like a reward for a job well done.

I never thought anything so ordinary could make me this happy.

In no time at all they had arrived at the Kurosaki Clinic. After being paid, the taxi sped away. A limo was attracting the attention of several passersby. That told her Byakuya was in attendance. This was it.

When she moved forward, however, Noboru held back. He was digging the toes of his shiny black shoes into the pavement as he always did when uncomfortable. His eyes were fixated on the gate leading into the house's yard, and he swallowed.

With a slight smile, Yoruichi bent to whisper in his ear. "Do you want to wait outside? We'll let you know when it's time."

He nodded once without saying a word, and his lady mother granted him a quick peck on the cheek. The hand that clutched hers was trembling now; Rukia felt her heart go out to him, and she gave their conjoined fists a secure pat. The boy flashed her a look both eager and uncertain. For all that he was clearly afraid, she could tell he was looking forward to this, having probably imagined for decades all the ways that it could go wrong while hoping against hope that it would still somehow turn out right.

"Have faith in your father, Noboru," she assured him. "He is going to be so proud of you!"

They let go and proceeded to make their way towards the house. Slipping past the gate she had used every day on the way to school all those months ago, Rukia looked back at him standing there in expectation.

You were in the same boat once, unsure of what awaited you.

Which is why I know he has nothing to fear.

It might not be easy for him. The Kuchiki can be a hard pill to swallow.

Then I'll sugarcoat it. Let them try to intimidate me.

Yoruichi gave a knock on the door, which was answered a few moments later by Nanao Ise. The former lieutenant blinked at them. "Ah… welcome, both of you. Excellent timing. We're just about done in here." She closed the door behind them as they entered, pausing only for a moment to take in Noboru peering over the barred gate. Nanao then led them along. "There are several of Ichigo's classmates in attendance. Yoruichi-sama, would you like for them to leave? I'd be glad to volunteer."

"No, let 'em stick around." The Lady of Shihoin trotted on by into the living room. "We might as well take all the warm wishes we can get."

By now Rukia had noticed the people in question were relegated to huddling in the kitchen. Upon seeing her approach they all bolted upright and came surging forward.

"Rukia-chan, is that really your brother?!"

"GOD, I envy you! Although come to think of it, being his sister means you don't have a shot, so I kinda pity you too."

"How old is he? Is he into younger women? What's with the scarf? And those hairpin-thingies?"

"Please tell me he's gay! Because if he's not, I… I might have to give up on women!"

"Does he take concubines?"

"Rukia…" This last came from a particularly hollow-eyed Ichigo. "What is going on?"

She looked from one face to another, and a happy smile lit up her own. "All of you… come meet my brother!"

A few moments later she was sitting at Byakuya's right hand with Yoruichi claiming the spot on his left. The kids from Karakura were for the most part kneeling before them. Ichigo had taken up position against the wall in some sort of teenage defiance, while Nanao and Dr. Kurosaki joined the majordomo off to one side. Introductions were not necessary for them.

Bursting with pride, Rukia looked from one eager expectant visage to another. "Everyone, it is my great privilege to introduce my honorable elder brother Kuchiki Byakuya, head of Clan Kuchiki."

She indicated to her left, where her Nii-sama remained perfectly still. "Hm," was all he said, but oh, how self-assured he sounded with just that one utterance! His presence claimed the attention of the entire room so that they, like her, could not take their eyes off him.

Upon feeling her face flush Rukia hastily continued with the introductions. "And I am doubly honored to present you to Her Ladyship Yoruichi Shihoin, head of the Shihoin House."

"Hi!" Yoruichi waved cheerfully at them.

It was somewhat difficult to gauge their reactions. Yuzu was tugging on Karin's arm while holding a hand to her own mouth in order to smother any squeals. The other Kurosaki girl maintained a reserved demeanor while seemingly unaware that she was being shaken from side to side at her sister's exuberance. Most of the high school students were just staring at Byakuya. Eventually Kunieda snapped a deep bow, and at this Mahana, Tatsuki and Michiru did the same before swiftly coming back up to continue worshipping him with their eyes. Chizuru Honsho, however, had not moved since catching her first unobstructed glimpse of Lady Yoruichi. She had been dragged forward and plopped down with a little help from her classmates, and now remained with eyes wide as could be and tongue hanging out of her mouth. Rukia thought she detected a faint sound coming from her throat every now and then which served as reassurance that the girl was still breathing. Otherwise she might have asked Dr. Kurosaki to step in and ply his trade.

After everyone present had been introduced by name, Yoruichi took control of the room with queenly aplomb. "I'd like to thank you all for welcoming us. Byakuya and I don't get out in society much. It can be such a hassle moving about when you're in charge of things! But I must say you've all been very accommodating, and for that you have our thanks." The master shinobi smiled sweetly, a fey glint in her eye. "You're probably wondering just what business brings us here today. It's not been announced in the papers, and I don't think it ever will, but if Lord Kuchiki doesn't object…"

Here she turned an inquiring look on Byakuya. Unlike with all the rest he actually responded to her unspoken question, turning his head to give a faint nod of acquiescence. "As you wish."

"Cool!"

Rounding back on her audience, Yoruichi inhaled deeply.

"All of you please congratulate us; Byakuya and I are getting married!"

And with that, she took his arm to give them all the most joyous of smiles.

Despite knowing it was coming, Rukia couldn't help but feel her heart pound at this declaration. At last! After so long spent wondering and guessing and presuming, it had finally happened! Nii-sama was to wed again! Ever since learning about Noboru's ancestry, she felt certain they would eventually get together. And now, despite all the complications that it might involve, these two powerful and wonderful people were throwing caution to the wind and flaunting their love to the world, come what may! It made her heart soar! They were going to be so happy together!

Her exhilaration must have been infectious, for the girls swooped in to besiege the newly betrothed couple with nary a pause. They clamored excitedly together at once, alternating full-throated felicitations with eager burning questions. Isshin Kurosaki barged in to pump Byakuya's hand. While obviously annoyed, her brother went along with this plebeian rite at a sign from Yoruichi, who was accepting Nanao's vastly more artful well-wishes. The sight of their exuberance filled Rukia's chest with a warm fondness. Practically strangers, yet they shared in her happiness! She simply couldn't wait to see Ichigo's reaction, and so looked over to…

Where did he go?

Upon noticing her looking in his direction, the majordomo glanced over to his left where Ichigo had previously stood. She saw him arch an eyebrow, then duck down so that he was hidden behind the couch for a moment.

When he rose up, it was holding an insensate Ichigo with one arm draped around his shoulders. Despite her previous euphoria, Rukia's eyes narrowed just a tad. Really, did he have to behave so immaturely at a time like this? With any luck Nii-sama hadn't noticed and there would be no need to apologize later.

After a few minutes Byakuya and Yoruichi stood up together. The lady of the hour gave them another smile of unmatched brilliance. "Thank you one and all. I couldn't have asked for a better reception. But now we really must be going. There's one or two very important things that Byakuya and I need to discuss. Sorry we can't stay for the meal, Yuzu-chan, I'm sure it would have been delicious!"

The couple moved through their mob of admirers towards the door with the majordomo in the lead, and Rukia followed behind. She had almost forgotten about Noboru, but Yoruichi's words brought him back to the forefront. A measure of unease stole into her soul which she strove to fight down. Remember your own words. Trust in Nii-sama. He would never do anything to disgrace himself.

They were at the door. Dr. Kurosaki was bidding them farewell, and Rukia thought hard about what would come next. As they had planned, Byakuya and Noboru would get their first look at each other here, though no introductions would be made. Yoruichi intended to bring the matter up with him later today in a private setting where they could discuss any aspect of their having a son without fear of outside intrusion. Rukia would then present Noboru to them officially as a member of the Kuchiki. She was resolved to do everything necessary to make it work out right. For the sake of her nephew, and her brother, and even her soon-to-be sister-in-law.

Last words were exchanged. At a sign from Yoruichi, Rukia nimbly slipped through the press and stepped outside, closing the door behind her. She saw Noboru perk up from his position over by the gate. He had entered the yard and clearly been pacing around for a while now. His body tensed, eyes going wide. She gave a reassuring nod to let him know that everything would be okay.

Before she could move to reach him the doorknob started to turn. Rukia came about to stand at attention. Here we go!

Byakuya and Yoruichi stepped out into the sunshine. Her feet felt like ice. She observed their faces carefully for any telltale sign. Her brother remained composed to an incomparable extent. Oh, Nii-sama, you have no idea…!

As for Yoruichi, it didn't take any careful examination to recognize the obvious signs of disappointment.

What?

When Rukia turned around, Noboru was gone.

Uncertain, she glanced about the yard. There was no sign of him. A stab of fear shot through her. Had something happened? But he was right there a second ago! Where could he have gone?

While her eyes roamed about in bewilderment, the pair of nobles came up to her position. "Rukia," Byakuya announced. "I will see you at home."

"Yes, Nii-sama," she managed from a tight throat.

He studied her for a moment, clearly picking up on some distress. A touch from Yoruichi, and their eyes met in silent communication. The two of them strode regally by to enter the limo. A minute later that gleaming black vehicle had sped away.

Everyone else went back inside. For a while Rukia remained alone in the empty yard.

A sound came from behind her. When she looked, it was to find a small brown monkey clambering down a tree. The little primate gamboled over to her. A second later, Noboru stood at her side, head down and shivering. She studied him sadly.

Rukia forced a smile when she spoke. "Did you see him?"

Still not looking up, he gave a jerky nod. Doing so caused tears to fall. Oh, Noboru. With that the young death god put both arms around her nephew. She could feel him shaking.

"Let's go inside," she whispered into his hair. "There's a great dinner waiting."

He put up no resistance, and soon they were joining everybody for a very animated meal.

---

"What's this, Ichigo, slipping away for some hanky-panky together? That's m'boy! You just–!"

WHUMP!

One solid kick to the face later and Ichigo was stumping up the stairs past his crumpled parent. He left behind him the teenage frenzy that was still stewing in the wake of Byakuya's visit. Yuzu had finally calmed down enough to start asking all sorts of questions which he couldn't begin to answer. Fortunately she was in good company for a great deal of hypothesizing. This gave Rukia a chance to slip over and tell him they had something important to discuss. After dealing with his annoyingly observant dad, he therefore followed her up to his room for a little privacy.

Opening the door, Ichigo was somewhat surprised to find Noboru sitting next to Rukia in the middle of the floor. "Come in and have a seat, Ichigo," she offered.

"It's my room," he shot back, shutting the door and locking it. "Why are you inviting me in?"

The kid looked at Rukia. "Do we really have to do this?"

"Yes. And don't be difficult, either of you. We're all going to have to pull together if we want this to succeed."

"Who's being difficult?" The shinigami substitute plopped down in front of them, searching from one face to another for an explanation. Rukia still looked a little drained from fielding so many questions during dinner. Only Nanao's polite insistence that she be left alone had allowed her to finish eating. She did appear more relaxed now, though. As for the brat… he was scowling in that way he had that always made Ichigo uncomfortable, like he had forgotten something and couldn't for the life of him remember what it might be.

"Alright, let's get started." Rukia placed her hands in her lap and squared her shoulders. "As you might have figured out, this is very big news that took place today. Weddings between members of different clans is no small affair under normal circumstances, but this is virtually unprecedented. The heads of two of the most powerful families in Seireitei have entered into a marriage contract. Their lines will be joined. Allow me to illustrate what this involves."

Ichigo flinched. Oh no, don't tell me…

Sure enough, the drawing pad now appeared in Rukia's hands. Both he and Noboru exchanged a rare look of commiseration, and by then it had already begun.

"Nii-sama and Lady Yoruichi," here there might have been drawings of a cat-monster and something that looked like a storm cloud with eyes, "rule their clans with virtual impunity. The other two Great Houses are the Arashi and the Kotetsu."

The paper flipped to a snake with a ponytail and a really tall silver sunflower. So absorbed was he by how bad these drawings looked that it only dawned on Ichigo after they were removed that one of those names sounded familiar. Kotetsu? Wasn't that…?

"As you can imagine, such a huge shift in the balance of power between the clans has not gone unnoticed or unremarked. The Kuchiki and Shihoin have been on amiable terms for well over five-hundred years, especially after the Manor Wars which saw the loss of so many names along with one of the Six Great Houses."

Here he blinked a few times, thinking furiously. Did we tell Rukia about Aizen's ancestry after the memory charm was put on her? I'm pretty sure we did. Have to check with Byakuya to make sure of it. Better keep quiet until then.

"What we are dealing with is a political and cultural conflict, not a military one. The royal houses are a law unto themselves. You might think of it as zero-sum warfare." A turn of the page revealed something like the food chain, with sunflower, thundercloud, snake and cat now in a circle with arrows pointing to one another. It reminded him of the snake/slug/frog game, or checks and balances between legislative, judicial and executive branches of government. "Nii-sama's role as Lord-Commander of the Gotei 7 had already caused some level of acrimony amongst the other families, especially with the Central 46 being permanently retired after the Autumn War. That conflict disrupted the balance of Soul Society in more ways than one. Now with this new situation there is greater cause for concern."

Rukia put away the pad, causing both her listeners to breathe an inward sigh of relief.

"What we might view as a normal match between two people who love one another could easily be perceived as a grab for power by the other Great Houses. Lord Arashi has never looked kindly on us owing to past difficulties, so he is sure to take action. The Kotetsu have already arranged a marriage between Lady Isane and a very influential figure in both the aristocracy and military."

Kotetsu? Isane? Lady Isane? Isane Kotetsu?! Hold on, hold on, wait one gosh-darn minute here…!

Her speech continued while he struggled to come to terms with just one of the points addressed. "According to Lady Yoruichi something along these lines is precisely what led to the Manor Wars, in that it was an attempt by one House to gain unquestioned preeminence over all others. No one wants such a travesty to reoccur. Therefore we must engage in a very complicated and potentially costly series of diplomatic treatises. To ensure its success, we may have to put all our cards on the table. And that starts with one another."

Okay… okay, I've got it. Isane, that is Captain Kotetsu, Rukia's boss in… Heron, yeah, that's it, Heron squad. She's apparently another one of those big-time noblewomen, like Yoruichi. Makes sense, I guess. Wonder why nobody ever remarked on it before? Well, anyhow, good. Got that squared away.

Feeling more in control of this situation, Ichigo brought himself back to the discussion.

"–buru Kuchiki, firstborn son and heir to my brother Byakuya."

Before him Rukia and Noboru were holding hands and watching him speculatively. It looked like they were waiting on him to speak now. Hang on… did I miss something important? Better ask.

"Rukia, what did you just say?"

Her short brows creased in annoyance. Giving an officious cough, she reiterated in a clear voice with even greater emphasis than before, "Ichigo, allow me the honor to formally introduce you to my nephew NOBORU KUCHIKI, firstborn son and heir to my brother Byakuya."

Say what now?

He blinked, a puzzled frown causing his face to scrunch in on itself. "What?! Oh c'mon, Rukia, that's craz–"

His head turned.

"–y-EEEEYAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Ichigo hadn't meant to scream. Really, he hadn't. It's just at that exact moment, his eyes met Noboru's, and right there…

Right there, there it was like a stomp to the nuts! The expression on the kid's face! That… caustic, derogatory, demeaning glare! It was more than any mere family resemblance. This was the precise look that he always got from the high-and-mighty Lord Byakuya Kuchiki! No matter how hard he tried, it was never enough for that man, and here was that same unforgiving face! Saying without any need for words…

It's true, Ichigo.

"EEEEYYYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

Ichigo continued to shriek without pausing for breath. Clapping his hands to his ears, Noboru blew the bangs out of his eyes and looked to his aunt. "Why does everybody react like that?" he demanded.

"Who can say?" She gave his knee a reassuring pat. "Now I'm doubly glad I cast a spell to muffle sound in this room." When the howling redhead ran out of air and drew a breath that his crazed expression confirmed was preface to more shrieking, Rukia leaned forward to give him a light slap in the face. He recoiled slightly, staring at them with wide unblinking eyes.

Then, to their great surprise, he sighed and smiled.

"Okay," Ichigo said calmly, looking quite content. "Okay, I'm good. Really good. I'm okay with this. I mean, there's nothing I can do about it, right? That wasn't me back there, so you know, that was… some kind of survival instinct. But it's over now." He inhaled deeply and let it back out with another relieved sigh. "So what's next?"

Rukia felt elated at seeing this fantastic reaction to what she recognized was quite shocking news. She knew he had depths that some other people might refuse to acknowledge, but this suggested a level of strength and maturity never previously heard of on his part. Later on she simply had to find a way to reward him. Quickly she dove back into her explanation.

"Well, before the wedding ceremony, Noboru shall be the tentative heir to both of their houses. As you just saw, such a development could prove quite shocking to a great many people. So after his parents are joined in wedlock, he will receive the sanction of only one as their official successor, relinquishing his claim to either rulership of the Shihoin or Kuchiki in the process."

As he listened to her voice, a feeling of transcendent peace began welling up in Ichigo's soul. What a strange experience. It's like I'm achieving enlightenment. Is this how the Buddha felt? Maybe it's a sign of just how much my spirit has awakened in the last few seconds. I'm letting go of all my earthly worries. Everything looks fresh and clean. I'm about to reach some new level of consciousness. Yes, it's all so clear now!

"As Noboru's mother, Lady Yoruichi has…"

The scream of a child in pain. The growl of an angry dog as you take a step too close. A jarring screech of tires right before two cars slam into each other with devastating force. That sound it makes when you bite your inner lip while chewing your dinner.

Rukia's last sentence was all that and more.

The effects were immediate. All previous harmony to his spirit was sucked away. Just as when he took injury while fighting in shinigami form, further damage followed to his body as a result. Ichigo's hair began to fall out. His cheeks became sunken, eyes hollow and dull. In mere moments his healthy young frame dwindled to an emaciated wreck. The flickering candle of his soul got snuffed out, leaving behind nothing but gray ash. A wind blew through the room, and his carbonized remains crumbled into dust to be lost on the breeze, leaving only a pile of clothes behind.

His girlfriend prattled on without noticing. "… so there is a chance that I too will be asked to fulfill my duty as a Kuchiki and–"

"Baa-san? I think he's dead."

"Hm?" Rukia cast a sharp look at Noboru, who was peering closely at the motionless teen sitting across from them. She too turned her full attention on Ichigo.

He remained smiling and relaxed. But now that she looked closely, the light in his eyes had gone out.

What happened? It was going pretty well for a while there!

I'm not sure, Sode no Shirayuki.

Wait, hold up… did you forget to explain to him that Yoruichi is the kid's mom?

What? No, don't be absurd! I told him right after mentioning Byakuya being his father. Or wait… I planned to tell him that. But then he screamed and…

Oh dear.

His heart still beat, much to her relief. After about five minutes, when in spite of their concerted efforts it was clear he wouldn't be coming back from this anytime soon, the two Kuchiki agreed it would be best to just let him rest. Together they carefully lifted Ichigo's unresisting body onto his bed and tucked the covers up around his neck. The whole time he never lost that peaceful smile. Rukia hesitated at closing his eyes for fear that it would make him look more like a corpse. Finally she decided it was that or let his eyeballs dry out since he seemed to have lost the ability to blink.

They shut his bedroom door and stood together out in the hall.

"Do you think he picked up the bit about you having to get engaged?"

Rukia looked at Noboru. She had no idea what her own expression might be like, but if his was any indication, she was not hiding her discomfort as ably as a Kuchiki should.

"We'll have to leave that revelation for another time, Noboru."

---

Kouki. Kuchiki. Noboru Kouki. Noboru Kuchiki. Noboru Kuchiki.

Nope. Still sounds odd.

After Aunt Rukia left to meet with his parents back in Soul Society, Noboru had decided to take some time to himself. He reclined barefoot on a windowsill in the living room of the Kurosaki household gazing out at the approaching dusk. The K.O.P.S. gals still hadn't left after dinner and were clustered together only a few feet away. They were taking this chance to have an unofficial meeting to discuss everything that happened earlier. Technically it qualified as paranormal, but even if his parents were spirits, it sounded more like they were fan-girling over a celebrity couple. Their animated conversation didn't include him, so he pretty much tuned it out.

Quite a day, huh?

You going to tease me?

For what? Chickening out on letting your Dad see you? Nah. I know where you're coming from.

Baa-san thinks Mom won't tell him about me yet because of that. I guess I blew my chance.

From what we've heard, I'm not sure you really want to be in a hurry to join that family.

Not like there are tons of other people who want me in their lives.

We've been on our own practically since birth. What's wrong with keeping it that way?

Because I didn't know what I was missing then. Now I do. And if it's something I can get without even putting up a fight, all the more reason to take it.

This isn't a normal family. Even Rukia admits they put her through hell for half a century. You watch your back around them.

Everybody knows nobles are weird. Maybe I should meet more of them? I could get Ganju to introduce me to his sister. She's best friends with Mom, so that's a good place to start.

Have you noticed he never talks about her? That should give you a good idea what to expect.

Now who's chickening out?

As the two of them argued silently within his soul, the high-schoolers continued their amorous conclave off to one side.

"It's not that crazy," Mahana insisted. "I mean, if Rukia and Ichigo can be going out, why can't we score us a hottie from the afterlife? Not like the pickings are that great on this side of the veil."

"There's no guarantee they'll all be supermodels," Ryō pointed out with a frown. "Some of those shinigami with the wild hair we saw back in Hueco Mundo looked uglier than Hollows."

Chizuru stretched out on her back with a groan, lifting her arms overhead in high spirits. "You know for a bit there, I finally got a feel for what you girls see in men. I was tempted, I'll admit. But then the heavens opened up and led me back onto the right path!" Hugging herself she sighed rapturously. "Why is every female spirit I meet so beyond hot? A girl could give up on living."

"Does that mean you'll finally lay off Orihime?" Tatsuki grunted beside her.

"Nope! I'm an equal opportunity lover, is all. Can you blame me? Golden eyes… that's not fair. Nobody should look that scrumptious and have golden eyes to boot. I… LOVE… ghosts!"

"Does anyone know where Orihime is?" Michiru looked around. "I sent her a message too, but she didn't show up."

"Probably too busy talking with Ishida on the phone," Arisawa replied lazily.

"Oh." Ogawa seemed to withdraw in on herself, absorbed with her own thoughts. Then she noticed something. "Mahana-chan, what's that you've got there?"

Natsui looked up from her phone. "It's one of those celebrity face blending games. Y'know, the kind where you see what it would look like if they had babies? I managed to snap a picture of the happy couple. Now I want to see what a kid of theirs would look like!"

Now everyone's interest turned to what was taking place on her screen.

"Ohmigosh, I'll bet their child will look super gorgeous!"

"Let's do Rukia and Ichigo next, just for comparison."

"Ugh, no way! That would be like dipping sushi from Sukiyabashi Jiro into American barbecue sauce. A criminal waste!"

"Try to show a little decorum. We are in his home, after all."

"Look, look, it's coming up! It's…!"

The software finished running. A computer-generated face now gazed at them.

All conversation died.

The girls stared.

Then slowly, ever so slowly, their heads turned at the same time.

Noboru?

What?

Why are those girls looking at you like that?

When he turned to see what Hanuman was talking about, an unpleasant shiver went up his spine. There was an eerie force emanating off that collection of admittedly attractive young ladies. Under normal circumstances he would have been glad to have their attention on him. Now, however, his instincts told him something was wrong. The smiles they all wore made his stomach roil.

With deliberate care the ladies began to clamber upright and come sidling towards him. For some reason it reminded Noboru of these zombie flicks he had watched with Kon and Ganju. With a certain wariness he shifted around to face them. "Uhhh… can I help you chicas?"

"GRAB HIM!"

Of a sudden they lunged forward. Noboru shot from his seat in a blur and landed a few yards off to leave his pursuers falling in a heap on the windowsill. Heart pounding, he turned to see the pack righting themselves to round on his position.

"Don't let him get away!" the redhead with glasses shrieked. "We'll marry rich!"

What is this, another case of possession?! 'Girls Gone Wild Hunt', or something?!

I dunno! But I don't think I'll stick around to find out!

So resolved, he tore out the door and raced down the street. In doing so Noboru nearly ran right into Kon who was coming up the sidewalk. The glum-looking mod blinked upon noticing him. "Hey kid, what's…?"

"WE'RE RUNNING!"

The young noble shot on by. His ally turned in surprise to call out, "Why are we running?"

"BECAUSE WE'RE RUNNING!"

Before he could frame further questions, movement out of the corner of his eye alerted Kon. He came around just as the girls emerged into the evening air.

At seeing the looks on their faces, his own went white.

"That's not running!" So saying, Kon bunched his incomparable legs and sprang in pursuit. "THIS is running!"

The Kurotsuchi-brand marvel caught up to the heir of Shihoin, and together both speedsters raced into the distance without even a glance back. Hot on their tails came a crazed mob of gold-digging girls who pedaled bicycles or just beat feet as they aimed for a better life, here and in the one that came after.

---

"I'm gonna kill 'im. I'm gonna kill 'im! He's already dead, but I don't care. I'm just gonna kill 'im!"

Having recovered from his trauma as much as able, Ichigo sat in a chair muttering to himself. His eye twitched out of time to his drumming fingers. Every now and then he emitted a nervous giggle.

He'd faced seemingly insurmountable opponents in his life. Vasto lorde, mad captains, giants. And yes, even one very cold and elitist bastard with his precious scarf and his perfect hair! Now here he found himself being challenged by that very same person yet again. Only this time when he pictured Byakuya, the Kuchiki lord appeared in his imagination as a towering hell-born ogre with horns and tusks, hoisting a spiked club on one shoulder, and in the other gigantic hand he clutched the limp helpless bodies of Rukia and Yoruichi. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" Byakuya-Ogre taunted Ichigo, flames spilling from his mouth with every utterance. "I get the best of everything, Ichigo! The very best! You can bankai until you're blue in the face, and I will still win, thanks to my overwhelming, incalculable, undefeatable wealth! BWA-HA! HA! HA!"

"I will defeat you, Daikaiju Byakuya!" he growled. "Wait and see. Oh, you wait and see!"

"Ichigo? Are you okay, son?"

He finally noticed that his father had been standing in front of him for a little while now. Looking up into Isshin's puzzled face, Ichigo managed a soft, "Yeah. Fine."

"You know you might have to make some tough decisions very soon."

This sudden serious tone caused Ichigo to pay closer attention. Isshin was examining him with the sort of intense expression he usually reserved when treating patients. It made all sorts of questions rise to the surface.

"Dad, you wouldn't happen to be royalty, would you?"

"Yes, actually. I'm descended from the Arashi clan. My family name is 'Isamu', which means 'bravery'."

Against his better judgement he found himself asking, "Really?"

WHAM!

Lying upside down crumpled against the wall with his knees around his temples, Ichigo blinked in consternation. How did this happen?

"No. Like it would be that easy. Get your head out of your ass." Isshin clasped his son's hand and helped him scramble upright. Dusting the shocked teen off, he locked eyes with him and spoke in an accomplished tone. "Rest assured, I'll help you and Rukia any way I can. These are dangerous new waters you're in, my boy. But we're family. So don't hesitate to come to me if you need help." And with that he smiled.

"Okay." Gazing into his parent's determined eyes, Ichigo realized a few of those previous questions might have just been answered. It made him feel better, oddly enough. Although there was one last thing he felt needed to be asked.

"Dad…"

"Yes, son?"

"Why are you wearing a jacket and tie?"

To his surprise, Isshin's face turned dark red. "GO TO YOUR ROOM! YOU'RE GROUNDED!"

"WHAT?! WHY?!"

"DON'T TALK BACK TO ME, BOY! I'M YOUR FATHER! RULER OF THE ROOST! THE ULTIMATE…!"

Sitting in the kitchen sipping some guava juice, Karin heaved a sigh. "Seriously, why would anybody want to marry into this family?"

---

The messenger went down on one knee and extended out a scroll which Jūshirō accepted. "Thank you." His visitor bowed and departed, leaving the retired aristocrat alone in his manor's courtyard. Ukitake took a moment to enjoy the late afternoon soon, letting it fall on him like a soothing balm. Feeling elated and somewhat curious, he took himself back inside.

Jūshirō undid the scroll's seal while he walked. A message from his clan? Rare that they would seek him out. While still nominally head of his house, he had chosen to transfer most of his authority to the clan elders shortly after becoming a captain of the Gotei 13. The thought of family business intruding onto the workings of the military had not escaped his notice. Once it became apparent that his tremendous power might allow his soul to endure for ages, it did not seem wise to risk potentially blending the two roles. Certain others might have seen it as an attempt to accumulate more power in the hands of Yamamoto's protégé. His family had long been in service to the Arashi, who conversely had ceased to hold a captaincy in the Gotei 13 after the Manor Wars. This arrangement had worked out well for centuries.

Nodding a greeting to some of his servants, he began to read while pacing down the tranquil halls of his home.

Jūshirō stopped.

"Oh!"

"Is everything alright, Ukitake-sama?" one of the maids asked upon noticing her lord's abrupt halt.

"Ahhh… yes. Nothing to be concerned about." Still holding the missive, he gazed about in distracted fashion. "Would you know where Kyoraku could be found?"

"I believe he's still sleeping in his quarters, milord."

"Thank you." Ukitake wasted no time in hurrying along then. In no time he found himself in the section of the house reserved for entertaining guests. Feeling somewhat anxious he knocked on the frame and slid it open without awaiting a response. "Shunsui, are you awake?"

"EEP!"

There was a flurry of bedclothes, and what might have been a red-cheeked servant girl went speeding by him to disappear down the hall. Upon turning back to the room, he found his old friend Kyoraku Shunsui sitting up and hastily tying his hair up. "Ukitake! Good morning! Or is it afternoon? Feels like afternoon for some reason. Have you eaten yet? I haven't. I'm starved."

During this jumbled collection of sentences he also managed to cram several items of what appeared to be women's clothing out of sight under his pillow. Ukitake could not find it in himself to even feel dismay at what was a common occurrence in his life and household. Instead he found himself blurting out, "Shunsui… I'm engaged!"

His old comrade stopped talking. Those heavy-lidded eyes widened in utmost surprise. He seemed to take a few moments to decide on what precisely those words could mean, helped along by the look on Ukitake's face, which was nothing short of thunderstruck.

At seeing this, Kyoraku stood up, walked over and grasped his best friend's shoulders firmly.

"Congratulations," he said.

"Thank you."

Stepping back, the bulky lothario put hands on his hips and grinned. "You know, I had a feeling your family might be up to something. A few of the servants have been wont to whisper in my ear as of late. I daresay this comes as more of a surprise to you than me. Maybe I should be on the lookout for more of the same from my people? Well, time for that later. This is your moment. And I'm happy for you, my friend. You are without a doubt the best husband a girl could ever dream of!" A thought occurred to him. "Which reminds me… who's the lucky lady?"

Jūshirō's eyes grew distant. "Ah… you know, I don't think I read that far."

They looked at one another, and both men started laughing. There was an edge of hysteria in it, to be sure. But also affection and delight resulting from having been in one another's lives for nigh on two thousand years. Still chuckling, they looked at the scroll's contents together.

The laughter died abruptly.

"Fuck me," Shunsui breathed before he could stop himself.

"Oh my," was Jūshirō's more genteel response as he read the name of his bride-to-be. "This… could prove problematic."

---

Crunch-Crunch-Crunch-Crunch.

"I'm… glad you're taking this so well, Kiyone!"

Crunch-Crunch-Crunch-Crunch.

Isane Kotetsu smiled nervously, eyes darting back and forth as she sat trying not to move too much. Around her, several servants bustled about their lady's dress, arranging scarves, tightening loops, adjusting hairpins and fussing with tangles. None of them spoke a word. They all seemed devoted solely to their work making her presentable.

Crunch-Crunch-Crunch-Crunch.

Absolutely none of them dared to look towards one corner of the room, where their mistress' younger sibling Kiyone Kotetsu was hunched in a tight ball with knees drawn up to her chin gnawing on a stick of celery. Those normally bright and vivacious eyes now held nothing but cold purposeful rage. Her jaw moved slowly from side to side in the manner of a cow chewing its cud. Still in her work attire of black shinigami robes, the second in line to the throne resembled a particularly malevolent species of crow for all the comfort she held.

"It really took me by surprise!" her older sister gabbled hysterically while wondering if she was sweating off her makeup. "I mean, who could have seen this coming? Not I! I wouldn't know what to do with myself in such a situation. Really, if either of us should be marrying Ukitake-sama, it should be–"

Crunch-C-urseYou-unch-Crunch-Crunch.

Isane's head jerked around. "D… did you say something, Kiyone?!"

"Hold still please, milady."

Trembling, the head of the clan went back to staring straight ahead while the crunching continued without cease. The servants continued in their duties. Her lips quirked as she strove to find her voice again. "There's nothing I can do about it now. The offer has been accepted by both of our houses and approved by their patron, the Arashi. I couldn't back out even if I wanted to… which I don't! I mean, I do! I mean, I don't! I mean…"

Crunch-Crunch-Cr-HeWillBeMine-unch-Crunch.

The captain of Heron Company clenched her fists so hard the nails dug into her palms. "You always said you wished Ukitake-sama would visit us more! And… now he'll be living with us! Forever! You can see him every day! Doesn't that sound wonderful, Kiyone?!"

Cru–

A guttural groan emitted from the corner. All at once the servants stopped working and rose up. "Perhaps we should continue this another time, Lady Isane. We shall depart." There followed a hasty chorus of bows, a quick rustle of robes and sliding of doors. In moments the two sisters were alone in the room.

Crunch-Crunch-Crunch-Crunch.

Too terrified to move, Isane just sat there in all her finery, quaking like a student waiting to be taken to task by a teacher.

Don't worry. My power is supremely suited for counteracting her soul cutter's abilities should it come to that.

It won't come to that, Itegumo! What are you saying? Kiyone would never hurt me!

No, you are correct. Certainly not. Never.

Thank y–

Unless you were to steal her one true love. Then things might take an unpleasant turn.

I didn't steal anyone! This isn't my doing! It's just clan politics, nothing more! Not like Ukitake-sama and I are in love!

Make that argument next and see how long it takes for the staff to pry her fingers from around your throat.

Crunch-Crunch-Betrayer-Crunch.

Sniffling, Isane closed her eyes and sought valiantly to hold back the tears.

I miss my nightmares.

---

"For God's sake, you can't do this, Jakov! It's against the law!"

"BE QUIET!" The red-faced man in his bulky uniform spun about, spittle flying from his lips and madness in his eyes. In one arm he held a sputtering torch that lit this dirt lane snaking through the forest. His other meaty fist was clamped firmly around the arm of a small, thin girl in a peasant skirt with a Gypsy shawl wrapped around her shoulders. "I know what I am doing! Don't think otherwise! How many times have we held our tongues, but… not this time! Not MY DAUGHTER!"

"When it was my Milica," a woman in back murmured reproachfully, "you never spoke up for her sake, eh, Constable?"

"The Graff will be furious!" another voice in the crowd wailed in fearful tones. "The lottery was done! We've never tried anything like this before!"

Unmoved, Constable Jakov Reinmarch turned his back upon the huddled collection of villagers and marched on. He dragged the girl along beside him, who made not a sound.

"It won't come to that," the village official spoke after a while with a confidence that he could not really feel. "The law says we give up a girl; fine, then! One is as good as another, Gypsy or no! It's their fault for coming here and offending the Graff's servants, not ours! He won't be displeased, just you see!"

Their party continued to follow the winding path. Far behind them the lights of Birkenstrad were growing ever fainter. Night enclosed all around, kept at bay by the puny flicker of their torches which seemed ready to go out at the smallest breeze through the trees. Their courage would be snuffed just as fast. Many pairs of fearful eyes watched the stygian blackness beyond the range of torchlight, alert for any telltale movement which might presage danger.

At last they reached a point in the road where a stone marker loomed. Ten feet tall, its top was carved in the shape of a snarling wolf's head, made all the more fearsome by being weathered almost past recognition. Its hollow black eyes appeared to fix upon the approaching humans all the same.

In the distance, a wolf howled.

The constable drew up short. He swallowed, face sticky with sweat and head darting from side to side. With a curse he then flung the Gypsy waif forward. She stumbled on bare feet and came to a halt. The unwilling sacrifice then slowly turned around to look at them. Many of the villagers drew back or made a sign of the cross at what they saw in those deep black eyes.

Breathing heavily, the red-faced Constable indicated with his torch. "Go!" he ordered. "Go up to the castle! Do not try to flee! If you do, the rest of your family will die. Understand, tsigan?"

For a time the girl did not move.

Then she turned and walked away, towards the pass which would lead further up into the hills. Mountains beckoned against the deep black sky. In just a few seconds she was lost to view.

There was nothing more to be done. And so the residents of town went back to their beds to await the verdict. Many would find no sleep that night, alert to the sounds of the wolf pack's howls and the wind through the trees which might presage their deaths. The same words were whispered in every house.

"God protect us."

---

Rania made her way up the track. Cold stone bit into feet toughened by snow and a thousand miles of wandering. She wrapped her shawl around thin shoulders and shivered.

What is going on?

It had been three days since her small Gypsy caravan entered these accursed woods. Aschen the leader of their family cheerfully insisted they would find a suitable town to ply their craft in short order. Instead the road had gone ever onward beneath trees that grew no less threatening from daylight to darkness. There was a menace in this place they all could sense. No birds sang here, and game did not abound by any stretch of the imagination. Aschen's twin daughters huddled together in the wagon playing games to pass the time, while his eldest son Ingelbert rode ahead alert to any danger. Another wagon pulled by donkeys carried the remaining members of this small tribe, numbering no more than ten in all.

At fifteen, Rania was no beauty like the older woman Kukaku, who despite missing an arm could still enchant villagers into parting with their money and their inhibitions with only one sashay of her voluptuous form. For her part Rania sometimes found herself mistaken for a boy, a fact that they had put to their advantage on several occasions. Small, thin and by no means shapely, her body was still strong and her mind as quick as her feet. Black hair reached down to her shoulders with one strand almost permanently hanging before her nose, while large black eyes studied the world, always alert to see what it would try to take from her next. Rania knew well that life could be harsh, and so she cherished the comfort that came from having people who cared about her. She had long resolved to contribute whatever she could so that her adopted family need never regret having taken her in.

One evening they set up camp, huddled around a small fire. Some brought out tambourine and balalaika in an effort to beat back the night with song. The people clapped and danced as though performing a magic spell to ward off evil.

The attack came without warning. Janko the juggler was entertaining them with some of his tricks, when a huge black shape rocketed past the trees and cannoned into him. Before he could even scream the wolf had already laid open his throat.

Cries went up as more of these beasts emerged into the light of the campfire. The Gypsy band had a lifetime's worth of experience facing threats be it from man or nature, and so they moved to defend themselves without hesitation. Flaming brands were snatched from the fire while whatever weapons handy came out of hiding.

Rania pressed her own dagger into the hands of Karen, Aschen's eldest daughter, before snatching up a torch. In its light she found herself faced with a huge red-furred wolf that sprang for her throat without hesitation. She swung her blazing club with all the strength of adrenaline-soaked frenzy, and was rewarded by a pained yelp as it smashed directly into the brute's eye, sending it pitching off course with its face aflame.

Elsewhere her other clansmen were putting up more of a fight than the pack had expected. Exploding powders used in their performances created loud bangs and lights that frightened and scattered the wolves. Rania saw the one she had struck lift its burning muzzle and utter an ululating howl. At this the remaining predators turned tail and bolted into the trees. For a second the pack leader seemed to look straight at her, its yellow eyes frighteningly intelligent, before vanishing after its followers.

All agreed it would be best to press on in hopes of reaching a settlement or getting out of this forest. To their great relief after only an hour or so of travel they found themselves in a well-to-do hamlet. The windows were dark, as to be expected for this time of night. However in the center of town they spied lamps burning in the largest building and could hear the sound of many voices. Aschen told his exhausted troupe to wait while he went to investigate. When he knocked upon the door, it was opened by the one she would come to know as Constable Reinmarch. He listened to the Gypsy leader's explanation of what happened to them. In that time, Rania noticed the town-dweller's gaze often drift down to fixate on her peering out from the front of the wagon. At last he offered Aschen the hospitality of their town and invited him to enter the building to discuss the matter further, which the Gypsy accepted.

Instead just a few minutes later the caravan found themselves surrounded by over a hundred villagers armed with pitchforks, clubs and torches. Outnumbered and weary from their previous battle, they were soon taken captive. Though she fought tooth and nail, Rania found herself singled out by the ones in charge of this mob. The rest of her kin were led away somewhere. The frantic Constable loudly declared her people were trespassers, and moreover that she personally had attacked an officer of their local lord, though Rania hotly denied any such thing. For this she was to be offered up as some kind of tribute, and should she not agree to do so, the rest of the clan would be put to death.

What choice had there been?

At last she reached her destination, passing through a wrought iron gate in a wall so thick and tall it seemed a building unto itself. Upon exiting the tunnel Rania now stood in the courtyard of an enormous castle whose heights soared mind-bogglingly high, almost one with the mountains all around. In the dark she could pick out nothing specific about it. There were no lights in any windows she could see, only many turrets and edifices grouped together in ways that made no sense to her.

A growl from one side caused her heart to labor hard. Looking around she found wolves closing in from either side. She recognized the one that had attacked her, its face still burnt and twisted. As the animal drew closer, snarling in recognition, the terrified girl lunged forward and sprinted towards the castle's main entrance. Rania heard the wolves give chase. She sped up a flight of steps and noted with joy that the great doors were slightly open. The sound of claws on stone spurred her flight, and with a final burst of speed she made it through and hurled herself against the wood to send it slamming shut behind her.

Gulping in air, the trembling teen looked wildly all about. She was alone in a huge rotunda. Enormous bay windows on either side allowed moonlight to come spilling through, illuminating the veined marble floor. There were no other lights to be seen. A tremendous red-carpeted staircase led up to a veranda that traveled the circumference of the room. Thick curtains hung from walls and ceiling like leaves in a forest. To the left of the curved balustrade on the ground floor, a looming grandfather clock ticked away. There was no other sound to be heard.

Eventually Rania found the courage to move forward. She didn't fully understand what she was meant to do, but someone living here must be in charge of the townsfolk. Whoever it was would tell them that she had held up her end and they must now let her family go.

Barefoot she walked the length of the cold stone hall, glancing from side to side in search of any life. There was nothing. Her throat felt hoarse, preventing her from shouting for help. What now? There didn't seem to be anyone here. Should I go in search of them?

Rania looked ahead, and saw a man at the foot of the stairs watching her.

She stumbled to a halt. He wasn't there a moment ago. That much she was sure of. Where did he come from? Why didn't I see him?

The figure in question was tall. A white scarf fell down his shoulders. Wrapped in a great black cloak that seemed to swallow his body whole, the only part of him visible was his face. Rania realized that had she been in any right state of mind, this would be the most unquestionably handsome man she had ever seen. His hair was black as night, long and smooth with three sharp locks dropping over his brow to contrast with pale sun-deprived skin. Thin slashes of dark brows, sharply pointed chin, and a finely crafted mouth completed this impression. His eyes did not at first appear to be open. However in those initial heart-stopping moments this eerie figure turned and drifted over to one of the ceiling-high windows, lifting his head to gaze at the moon shining amongst glittering stars.

He did not speak for a time, and Rania found that she could not. Her teeth were chattering too hard. Not from cold. It was fear. For some reason this man terrified her at first sight.

At last he shifted slightly, enough for one eye to glance back at her before returning to contemplate his domain.

"You come from Birkenstrad."

Even if she could speak, his tone made it clear this was not necessary. For that reason it was no surprise when he continued without waiting for her to answer. "In spite of this, you do not hail from there. You are a member of the wandering tribe that strayed uninvited into my domain three days past. Now you appear in my home as though you have some business here. Why?"

The words forced out of her throat before she could think. "We were captured. The constable said I was to take his daughter's place or see my tribe killed. I came to keep that from happening."

Silence reigned.

There came a slight shifting. Slowly one hand reached up to toy with the scarf around his neck.

"They take their responsibilities lightly. To behave in such a disingenuous manner is to flaunt my protection altogether. It is their turn. They know what I ask of them. This…" again he flicked a glance at her, "is no show of full faith. I am not appeased."

He appeared to be speaking to himself more than her. This realization served to ignite a faint flicker of reproach in her heart. It galvanized Rania to reassert why she had come.

"Are you the ruler here? The one they called the Graff?"

Still that shadowy figure did not look at her. "I am Graff Totholz," he replied absently.

"Then make those bastards release my kin!"

Her shout echoed faintly off the dome high above them. The clock ticked off seconds, until finally, the lord of the castle swung to face her. He seemed to study the Gypsy lass from top to bottom now, taking in her bare dirty feet, the way she clutched her threadbare garments which had been torn during the villagers' attack, before settling on her face. The black-clad nobleman stared at her for a very long time, and she stared right back.

At last Rania could take it no more. "They told me they would kill everyone if I didn't come! I'm here now! So tell them to let my family go!"

The Graff's face did not change. After a while though, those bloodless lips parted.

"No."

Her heart turned to ice at that word.

Totholz moved away from the window. His feet made no sound as he walked on over to where the clock stood. For a time he gazed up at its white face as though it were another moon that had captured his interest. Rania watched him, feeling helpless and foolish. What is wrong with me? Why can't I do anything, even speak? What the hell is going on!

"I accept."

So saying, the Graff turned and began to glide towards her. That mesmerizing face had not altered by one whit. He still looked utterly dispassionate. But now his eyes were open. Gray orbs speared into her and sent a shock up the girl's spine as though she had clutched an icicle with bare hands.

"This arrangement will stand," the shadowy specter spoke as he came to circle around her. It reminded Rania of the wolf prowling about back at the caravan. Rigid, she could not move in the slightest. Her pulse beat sluggishly, sounding like a great heavy drum.

Bejeweled white hands came around to cup gently beneath her chin. The Gypsy girl drew a sharp breath. The man's skin was shockingly cold. Fear like she had never known entered her soul. She wished desperately that he would stop touching her. Please, she begged silently, unable to force the words past frozen lips. Please let go of me.

"You shall remain under my roof. For so long as this is so, I give you my word that no harm will come to your family. My servants move to assure this even now."

Outside a wolf howled. She heard cloth rustle as he bent down low. Rania could only stare straight ahead, eyes wide and mouth half-open from a nameless horror. In the tall glass display case of the clock behind which the pendulum swung, she could see her image reflected clearly.

But behind her, where she could feel the man still standing, there was nothing.

God help me…

His lips passed over her ear, drawing a moan from deep within the orphan wanderer's breast.

"We shall see how long you last, Gypsy child."

Without another word, his mouth fastened upon her throat. Twin spikes of pain suddenly burned with a hellfire so fierce and hungry she couldn't even scream at this ghastly violation. Hot blood gushed with every slamming beat of Rania's heart.

The room spun, and she passed out.

Graff Totholz held the limp form in his arms for a few moments longer. With a visible effort he wrenched himself away, jaws wide and trembling from a heady ecstasy that cost him even the semblance of humanity he deigned to wear. It had been long since he tasted anything so fine. For a few seconds the only thing that made any sense in his predator's brain was to dive back in and feast on every last drop of this girl's rich fiery blood.

Instead he mastered himself. The lord of the manor lifted the unconscious maiden in his strong arms. At the same time he reached up and hooked a finger in the immaculate scarf he wore, drawing it slowly down until it hung limp as this dirty half-starved mendicant he held.

For a time he simply gazed at her pale face, great dark eyes closed. Tears sparkled on her lashes which she had not shed. The sight met with his approval. Cradling her to his chest, he wound the scarf loosely around her neck. Immediately the flow of blood halted. At the same time garish scarlet spread through the fabric with supernatural alacrity, until it hung like a stream of blood off her neck.

He bore her away then. This night had yielded unexpected fortune, and Graff Totholz was surprisingly eager to see what the future held in store for his newest treasure.

"The End," Michiru declared.

Relieved, she settled back in her seat. That had gone pretty well. At least no one interrupted her. The rest of the Creative Writing Club hadn't spoken at all, in fact. She glanced around, to find them looking at her.

"Ummm… do you have any thoughts?"

President Chiyoko's face held a sort of slack reverie. At last her mouth opened.

"I… want more."

Ogawa blinked. "You… liked it?"

"Yes!" The other members all nodded in support of their leader. "Do you have more? Will it be ready next week? Please tell me there's more!"

"Well…" the author hesitated. "I've got the plot pretty much worked out. But the chapters are a little much. I honestly didn't intend for it to be this long. It got away from me there for a while, so it might take time. Honestly, this piece just seemed to build up really fast, and I'm not sure if I can get in everything. But if you really want more…"

She glanced around, seeing eager nods and smiles on practically every face. The sight made her heart sing. Yes! Vindication at last!

"I think I can pull something off," Michiru declared confidently.

---

Sitting in her office, Soifon examined the document before her, narrowed black eyes seeming to burn the words off the page.

'Lady Yoruichi Shihoin to wed Lord Byakuya Kuchiki. Save the date.'

If this was someone's idea of a joke, it was not funny. And Soifon liked to think she had a very perceptive sense of humor.

I will obey. I will serve, and protect, and I will do all that is possible to make Her Ladyship happy. But this is without doubt the worst day of my life.

The captain of Viper Company then proceeded to slip the invitation carefully into a secret compartment in her desk. As she did so, a hell butterfly came fluttering through the wall. Her hand snapped out to catch the insect before it could settle on her. The message was transferred somewhat faster than was the butterfly's wont, no doubt due to shock.

This was nothing compared to what Soifon felt.

Her fingers came loose, and the creature drifted sulkily off. Feeling somewhat overwhelmed, the shinobi officer reached for the closest comfort available, placing her fingers around Suzumebachi's hilt.

Calm.

Yes. That will do. Now feeling more secure, Soifon stood and traveled out of her office. Her lieutenant Tetsuzaemon Iba looked up from working at a desk and snapped quickly to his feet. "Captain! How may I be of service to you, ma'am?"

Soifon turned to face him.

"Send word to the other captains, both current and not. Inform them that Yamamoto Genryusai-Shigekuni has died."

To be continued...