Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach and never will.

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-DIVIDER-

Ukitake Jūshirō's POV…

"How's it going?"

"... As well as it can be." I murmur, signaturing another report. This one is a confirmation of an unseated officer missing in action. "It never becomes easier, does it?" I whisper softly, setting the report on a stack to my right. Shunsui and I sit in his division office in the 8th. The both of us are diligently going over the backlash of paperwork from the most recent surge of hollows and consequential casualties. Pillows surround us and a low level kido keeps us comfortably warm, as it is slightly chilly tonight. Between us stand stacks of paper, writing brushes, inkwells, two plain wooden cups and a pitcher of water as the centerpiece. For once, my joint fourth seats are not hovering over my shoulders, eager to please. I value their dedication and hard work, but sometimes I can't help but think of them as exhausting.

"'Fraid not…" He remarks in answer to my earlier rhetorical inquiry, reaching over to refill my cup with water and I thank him quietly. "At least you have Miyako-chan back, and no one will even think of persecuting her," he comments after a moment of brief silence. "Small blessings, eh?"

It's true. No one would ever try accusing the wife of the Shiba Clan Head of any crime. It would be suicide, more or less, even with what Miyako-san was forced to do after being possessed by that hollow. "Yes…" I mutter, more than relieved to at least have my third seat back in person, and not merely a name among these stack of casualty reports. "Small blessings…" I repeat quietly. Unfortunately I am all too aware of the fact that these are empty words. There is nothing benign up in the great blue expanse of sky sending blessings from above. The Soul King keeps the balance, true, but beyond that will not lift a finger unless doing so directly benefits him. Although it has been over a millenia, what both my parents and I sacrificed to gain the Soul King's (or at least his right hand's) help comes to mind. I push the dark thoughts away, having become all too skilled at letting go of dangerous thoughts that do not directly help me in this moment of time.

"How is your new fukutaicho holding up?" I pip up after a sound of agreement from Shunsui to my earlier comment.

Shunsui dips his brush back into the inkwell before replying. "Really well. She's taken everything in stride, and is always efficient. Not half bad looking either, now that she's all grown up…"

I shoot an unimpressed look at my friend. "Shunsui…"

He waves away my concerns. "I know, I know; she's too young for me… But geez Jushiro, is there anyone who's not? Even Retsu-san is arguably too young…" He mutters, a cloud of depression suddenly seeming to hang around him.

I dip my brush into my own ink well, preferring the more traditional way of writing like my oldest friend. "Well, this is part of the price for existing as long as we have…" I abruptly let out a small chuckle after making this remark.

My friend gives me a curious and funny look. "Jushiro? What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing… Just trying to imagine you flirting with the lovely captain of the Fourth Division…"

Shunsui shivers rather violently. "Soul King forbid. I don't want to even think of what her reaction might be. A lot of shinigami nowadays believe that she's some type of motherly pacifist. Only what remains of us old-timers know the full truth."

I let out a breathless laugh. "She truly was a terrifying sight to behold, wasn't she?"

"Still is," my fellow taicho argues with conviction, giving another violent shiver. "Please. Can we talk about something other than the most terrifying captain of the Gotei 13?"

I offer a sliver of a smile. "So, Nanao-fukutaicho? I hear she volunteered for Kaien's mission in the Rukongai."

"Aa. In her report she even took particular pains to exemplify the performance of one of your unseated officers. She doesn't give compliments lightly."

I look up from my work, brown eyes widening in surprise and interest. "Oh? Who was it?"

"Kuchiki Rukia…" He sips at his drink. We only have a pitcher of water with us at the moment. Nonetheless, I'm almost certain he slipped out his sake-on-the-go from somewhere in his pink kimono, and poured himself a cup when I wasn't looking. I decide not to comment on it. It has been a harsh past week for everyone.

"I'm not surprised…" I remark under my breath. I notice him looking at me out of the corner of his eyes and from underneath his mop of brown hair… Studying me, curious.

"Mmm… Making quite a name for herself, isn't she? Won't be long I figure until she is a seated officer in your division, especially after these recent casualties…"

I say nothing.

"Jushiro, is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"Not at the moment, no," I reply calmly. I've known since the moment I agreed to Byakuya's request to keep his sister as an unseated officer, that Shunsui would eventually find out. Furthermore, I know my friend will never approve, and am not looking forward to the conversation.

"Alright… Well, I hope Rukia-chan continues to do well. It seems like she is eager to prove herself." He glances at me.

"Yes," is all I say. I'm all too aware of how willing the girl is to risk life and limb for the sake of the Soul Society. The realization inspires both pride and pain in me.

Shunsui gives an exaggerated sigh and leans back, waving one hand in the air. "My, my- So stubborn Shiro-kun. Fine then, but don't think I'll let this matter go entirely!"

Wouldn't dream of it, old friend… I think privately to myself. "That's it for me." I speak up after several more minutes hard at work. I gather my writing utensils and all-to-large stack finished reports. I stand up, smiling down at the other occupant of the room. "Goodnight, Shunsui…" I wish quietly, making my way towards the traditional shoji door.

He lazily waves me farewell from where he continues to slowly, yet steadily, work through his own stack of papers. "G'night, Shiro." I close the door with a faint rustling behind me. I make my way through the main structure of the 8th division, and nod gratefully towards those who pause to bow politely to me on the way out. As I move away from the center of the complex, the shinigami population gradually begins to thin out until I am all alone. My feet pad softly against the hard wooden floor. In the silence, I ponder how I'll justify my actions to my dear friend when he finally pushes the subject regarding my young, noble subordinate. Byakuya has already lost so much, and is under constant criticism from his own family elders.

Despite what my own fukutaicho might think, Byakuya has been extremely rebellious. He has brought about far too much change than is comfortable for the Kuchiki elders. In actuality, he's on very thin ice as Clan Head; his every political move is under heavy surveillance. Kaien can't understand this. Cultural differences and history of bad blood between the Kuchikis and Shibas prevents him from realizing just how much young Byakuya has done, or how deeply concerned he is for his adopted sister. Her death would break him, I'm sure. Her distant presence was the only thing keeping the noble leader together after his wife died. Yet, it seems fear of losing her as well led him to wrongly keep her at arms length.

I shake my head mournfully at these consuming thoughts, and let out a sigh. As I do, the stationary kido lights floating about begin to wink out one by one, submerging me in darkness. Only faint white light remains from a small square window further down the hall. My gaze flickers around warily.

Reaching out with my spiritual senses, I find nothing. Not Shunsui, not Sensei, not any other being in this entire world - this world that somehow now only consists of the dimly lit hallway I stand in.

The silence is almost deafening. I toss the papers I hold to the side, and draw my zanpakuto. My eyes narrow in challenge at the gloom. Around me, the casualty reports I just carefully completed flutter to the ground. "Show yourself," I command, hyper aware that I'm being watched.

I don't have long to wait. A slippery presence built of morphing shadows crawls across the wall opposite the window. It snuffs out the remaining light there as it passes. The submerging darkness turns into pitch black claustrophobia. I have trouble drawing breath. Even the air seems to have fled this place.

I can sense the presence now, heavy and oily at the corners of my mind. I flare my reiatsu to ward the feeling away. "What do you want?"

"...Ukitake Jūshirō..." comes a quiet, guttural tone.

My sword arm jerks up in shaky defense. It knows my name, and I know that voice.

"Listen and obey." The shadows dart forward; my zanpakuto, bathed in blue, slashes out to meet them.

-DIVIDER-

Kotetsu Isane's POV…

"I apologize again for waking you up at this hour," I offer sincerely as I finish wrapping the bandage over his left arm and pocketing the reiryoku sample. Taking care of this patient is my last task to do today- a day that should have already ended a few hours back in a warm bed in the fourth division women's barracks. The fourth has always been overworked; we are the backbone of the Soul Society, but as of late there is not one member that doesn't feel entirely stressed and exhausted. Many of us having been gulping down energy pills more than is healthy. It can't be helped though, and at least we are not near as bad off in terms of morale as the Third Division, those poor souls. As a nurse that is stationed right next to the remains of that once proud group, I know this all too well…

"Uh, Isane-san?"

I blink quickly, my gray eyes refocusing. "Sorry?"

"You were zoning out… Are you alright?" My patient asks while scowling. An odd expression for communicating concern to be sure, but the warmth in his chocolate brown eyes more than makes up for it.

"I am. It's just…" I resist the urge to yank lightly on my lone silver braid braid, a nervous habit of mine. "... been a long day." I offer him a reassuring smile, unwilling to burden him with anything more. Unohana-taicho always says that healers should do more than heal the physical body. She was the one to change the fourth's motto to Those who Grieve are Loved so many years ago. Therefore with that in mind, we fourth division members often times act like makeshift therapists as much as medics. We aren't experts by any means when it comes to this. Just the same, the majority of time all a person needs is someone to sit down with them and be a good listener. Simple, but not always the easiest of tasks…

My patient chuckles weakly. "I know that feeling." He comments idly, running a hand through short, orange locks.

I glance at him while jotting down some more medical notes on the paper connected to my clipboard. "...Anything you would like to discuss with me? Whatever you impart will be kept confidential."

His eyes flicker up to me, mildly surprise that I'd offer it seems. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not the type to burden other people with my problems if I can handle it myself."

I study him for a moment, and give a soft smile. "That's good," I decide. He doesn't seem sure how to respond, and I elaborate. "It's good that you recognize your personality characteristics so readily. It's a sign that your-" I start with a long medical term, but cut myself short. "Your passing is not causing any complications. When souls come to the Soul Society, they may lose their personal memories, but their personality…? That stays the same."

By this time, he appears as though he is about to fall out of his bed, leaning forward as he is hanging on to my every word. "Thank you…. It's good to hear I didn't lose my identity altogether… Actually, there may be one thing you can do for me."

"What is it?"

"Is there anyway to get back my memories?" I open my mouth to respond with a negative. I stop short, really thinking it over. "Please," he presses, pleading with me. He stares up at me with those solemn brown eyes. "Isane-san…" His voice is quiet, yet at the same time characterized by an underlying strength and determination.

I clear my throat and glance away, thrown off balance by the intensity in his gaze. "We are taught there is no way… Though in truth, I have no idea. If there is treatment though, I can't imagine it being legal. Nothing good comes from souls lingering on the past, especially when it comes to their previous lives in the World of the Living. Regrets are what make Hollows." I recite the traditional propaganda. However, upon seeing his head drop and pressing the palm of one head against his forehead, I can't help but to add a soft, "Sorry…"

"No, it's not your fault. I expected this really," He assures, swiftly recovering himself. I'm impressed. It's obvious he's upset about this development, but he doesn't dwell on it, at least not in front of me. He pushes aside his fears and looks forward so readily. "Thank you, Isane, for answering me honestly." His lips are pulled into a warm, genuine smile directed at me. I can't help but smile back.

"Do you think he will be into older woman one day?"

I silently cry out in mortification at my zanpakuto. Quiet you! That is not appropriate.

"Oh, you hush. Why must you always be so uptight?"

Itegumo! I am with a patient; leave me be.

If you insist... I doubt he's into taller women anyway; most men aren't. And then she falls silent.

That hurt. Itegumo never did like to be told off, and this was just one of her many ways at getting back. The downside to having a constant companion who knows everything about me, I'm afraid. "You're welcome…." I say to Ichigo-san outloud, realizing I had yet to respond properly. Returning to my duties here, I push thoughts of my irate zanpakuto to the side. "Well, it looks like everything is in order. Over the next few days you may experience bouts of disorientation and slight headaches, but that is to be expected with newly arrived souls. If the headaches become severe and or last more than twenty-four hours, please notify us as soon as possible. Other than that, take it easy and try not to wander off on your own please. The Seireitei is like a maze for newcomers, and with your disorientation it will likely prove easy to become lost in..." I ramble off the usual warnings.

He nods slowly. "And the blood sample you took from me?"

"Reiryoku sample," I automatically correct, and at his puzzled expression I elaborate. "It may appear as blood, but it's a different makeup than what humans have. Your body is now made out of an energy called Reiryoku, a different form of reishi or spiritual matter-…" He raises a hand, bringing my impromptu lesson to a halt. I bit my bottom lip. It seems I became carried away again. I am usually more reserved. Only when speaking of similar topics that I am personally passionate about, do I have a tendency of sometimes getting carried away.

"I'll take your word for it," he dismisses. His lips are quirked up at one side, so he appears amused when leaning back on his small bed. "Otherwise I might develop one of those headaches earlier than I'd like…" he quips wryly, pressing the palm of one hand to the side of his head for enfinsince.

I laugh quietly. "Yes, maybe that's for the best then…" I begin to clean up and put away the tools used for the checkup. "I'll have your results in the morning. The sample is just for our records, and to check to make sure you do not have any toxins, illnesses or anything that may hinder your health- although I wouldn't worry about that. It is very rare for souls to contract any illnesses…"

"Good to know," he comments.

I only nod in reply, finishing my quick clean up. "Good night, Ichigo-san." I wish him near inaudibly. Striding toward the door, I reach up a hand to flip the light switch off. Only a few divisions are fortunate enough to have complete access to electricity, the Fourth Division being one of them.

"'Night, Isane…" I pause at the use of my given name again, struggling to formulate a proper response. In the end, I only exit the room and softly slide the door shut behind me.

-DIVIDER-

Ichigo's POV…

I pull my thin sheet and warm blanket over my shoulders, merely staring up at the darkened ceiling. Although exhausted, I haven't been able to sleep. It was a big relief actually when Isane came in for the late checkup. Unohana-taicho had started to earlier, but apparently some eleventh division members became violent with their own medics and she needed to attend to the mayhem. Crazy bastards. I nearly got up myself to have a go at them. Instead, a pointed remark from the soft-spoken lady kept me pinned to my bed, trembling. I don't know what came over me, other then the very strong urge to do exactly what the sweetly smiling lady said. She promised that a very capable officer of her's would finish the examination later today and left, much to my hidden relief.

The rest of the day was largely uneventful. I was tempted several times to leave my room and try to find Toshiro, see how he's doing. The memory of Unohana-taicho's quiet orders kept me from leaving every single time. I'm sure he'll be fine. As for Shiba-san, I haven't seen him since he escorted Toshiro and me to the Fourth Division.

The journey itself from the City on the Hill to the Seireitei went by surprisingly swift. Shiba-san noted I was unconsciously using a low level form of shunpo (a high speed shinigami movement technique) and complimented me- said I was a natural. That piqued my interest, as I somehow recognized the term. After an impromptu lesson I was able to keep up with Shiba-san without any trouble. Toshiro joined in the lesson too and picked up shunpo nearly as easily, but couldn't keep it up. Soon, we had to insist that he piggy-backed with one of us, much to the younger boy's chagrin. He insisted I be the one to carry him, if anyone. I carried him on my back all the way to the gates. The trip gave me some time to think, especially regarding my decision. I know I said that I want to become a shinigami, and the reasons for my decision was and are fresh in my mind. At the same time, I began to have doubts along the trip. Did I really want to sell my soul to this organization I know next to nothing about, and follow orders without complaint? Will they really give me decades before I have to commit? More importantly, could I squeeze some training in before I have to sign along the dotted line?

"What's wrong?" Shiba-san asked me lowly as we navigated our way through the mass of structures known as the Seireitei. We had just entered through the capital's gates a few minutes back. It was an impressive sight for sure, but I didn't dwell on it for long. My mind was on other things.

"They won't stop staring…" I muttered under my breath, a tad annoyed. Sure enough, shinigami, nobles and the more common citizen alike directed their pointed stares at the three of us.

"Ignore them. People like us will always be treated this way; it's just how things are," Toshiro snipped, crossed his arms and promptly took his own advice. I wondered what he meant by 'people like us'. Was he talking about our odd hair colors? Certainly it wasn't our powers, as shinigami powers are nothing new to the Seireitei…

Shiba-san gave Toshiro a funny look. "Now what's that supposed to mean?" He questioned. He threw an arm around the lithe boy's slim shoulders and smiled down at him. Toshiro's expression morphed from one of shock, to discomfort and then embarrassment. He didn't make a move to remove the arm though, probably not wanting to make a bigger scene. "They're just happy to see the future additions to the Gotei 13," Shiba-san continued, seemingly ignorant to the silver-haired boy's grumpy disposition. "Both of you are already very powerful, they can sense it, and you give them hope."

All of that gave both Toshiro and me some pause. With some closer inspection, I soon realized Shiba-san was right. There was no hostility in these people's stances, nothing like the prominent wariness presented to us in the Rukongai. These people… Curious, relieved, intrigued and yeah, hopeful. I found myself standing just a bit taller, and scowling a little less. Second thoughts and doubts aside, the idea of others placing their hope in me wasn't entirely unwelcome.

Not long after we found ourselves in what Shiba-san announced to be the Fourth Division. Bustling in and around were shinigami. From the look of it, those present weren't built to fight, not like the other shinigami I'd seen. The majority there are kind-faced, young-looking men and women, many with delicate and petite physiques. All however were blatantly hardworking people; I didn't think otherwise for a second, not with the black circles under their eyes and the grim determination set in them. I soon discovered that this division was dedicated to the healing arts, and Toshiro and I were to stay here until someplace more permanent was decided on. Toshiro stayed quiet through the rest of the exchange, only nodding from time to time. I was marginally more talkative. "What about my training, when will that start?"

Shiba-san's gaze flickered to me. "There's no rush..."

"Doesn't look that way to me," I countered dryly, referring to how overworked everyone appeared. "I have the talent, don't I?"

"Absolutely."

"And you basically said I would have to eventually, so why not now?" I finished my argument, though there is no triumphant edge to it. I'd thought he'd want me to start as soon as possible, and was curious to find out why out of the blue he seemed so reluctant.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, and for the (after)life of me I couldn't get a read on him. "We'll see," is all he said.

I felt my right eye twitch. "That's not an answer," I pointed out, wanting an explanation for his behavior. Before I could push the subject further, the apparent captain of the division entered the scene, that scary softly spoken woman.

Shiba had left soon afterward. He claimed he had a few things he had to check up on and promised to see Toshiro and me tomorrow. I was surprised to learn from Unohana-taicho later on that his captain is terminally ill, regularly leaving his lieutenant (Shiba-san) to oversee the division on his own. It makes sense why Shiba-san suddenly upped and left now. Although, I can't help but think it's weird for a military commander of some kind can be allowed to stay on active duty with his condition.

A piercing heachache disrupts my thoughts, making me groan and clutch my head. I count to ten, waiting for it to dissipate. It doesn't. Great. The headaches have started. Now I definitely won't get any sleep tonight. I note irritably, wondering what time it is. It must be in the middle of the night already. At least I won't have a repeat of the dream from the other night. I sigh, laying my head back on my pillow and stilling my movements; I am thankful for the peace and quiet. My eyes flutter half closed, and I slip into a docile state. Not quite sleeping, though not quite awake either, my mind just drifting...

I get no tactile warning. I'm not even sure how I know. Suddenly my hand is gripping a slim wrist somewhere to the right. The newcomer is clutching an object close to my neck, the object itself barely held at bay. I jerk violently to the left, stumbling and half asleep as I struggle to make sense of what the crap is going on. My attacker is a pitch black figure, only noticeable because of the marginally lighter, surrounding darkness. I am about to demand what my attacker wants when he darts to the door. "Hey!" I yell, rushing after him hastily. I seethe, the anger at being attacked so underhandedly jolting me to awareness. I burst into the hallway right behind him. I swallow back any other yell, figuring dramatic shouts of stop won't actually convince him to stop.

Where… Damn it! I need some answers! I glance from left to right in the vacant hallway. There is light here. It's dim enough that it doesn't hurt my eyes and light enough that I can- there! I push myself to the limit with that shinigami skill- shunpo. I grab the coward by the shoulder. I whirl him roughly around and push him against the wall via a single hand to his- her chest? That… doesn't feel like a guy's chest... With a high-pitched yelp I remove my hand from her breast as if burned, and move my hand to her shoulder instead. "I didn't mean-! I mean I didn't know!" Then all I know is pain.

F-fuu….. I find myself on my knees, cringing terribly and choking back a scream. A quick kick to a place where no man should be kicked had cut my shaky denials short.

Light suddenly floods the hallway as a door is thrown open. I vaguely process my attacker vanishing out a window. "... Ichigo?" A soft, woman's voice. I can only groan in response. I'm beginning to think I have the worst of luck... I find myself pondering. I'm near delirious with pain, although still lucid enough to feel embarrassment at being discovered in this compromising position. A dainty hand rest carefully on my shoulder as I try valiantly to stand. "Are you wounded?" Is the worried inquiry. I only manage to shake my head no. I can't trust my voice right now. "Ah… Whenever you're ready to speak, then." She stands up and looks away. I stay still for a minute, breathing hard, before finally regaining use of my limbs. Sluggishly, I force myself to stand up. The woman who found me tries to help, but when I motion her away she respects my wishes.

"Is everything alright here?" I look up wearily to see a blonde man with dull eyes staring confusedly at me. "Izuru Kira, member of the fourth. I am on the night shift tonight. I heard shouting and felt your-" he nods at me, "reiatsu spike unexpectedly. Care to explain?" His voice is deadpan and bland. Does this guy possess any emotion? He seems neither concerned nor interested, but at the same time doesn't seem hostile or annoyed either.

"I was just attacked but they got away and-..." I struggle for the right words. What am I supposed to say exactly? Oh, yeah, some crazy chick tried to stab me in the neck and then escaped out the window here all ninja-style…. But I'm ok now, thanks for asking. Yeah, that'll go over well.

Anyways, when I don't immediately continue, the woman who came my aid speaks up instead. "We're fine now; thank you, Izuru-san."

He stiffens in slight startlement, the most emotion he's shown yet, and bows lowly to the woman. "As you say, Shiba-dono." I start at the name, getting my first good look at the lady who tried to help me. She is beautiful, despite the bandages wrapped around various places on her body and her unnaturally pale, sickly complexion. She looks to be around Shiba-san's (that is, the one I already know) physical age. She has long black hair that falls around her shoulders and dark, intelligent eyes. "Would you like me to keep watch for you tonight?" the fourth division member asks.

She pauses in thought. "That may be for the best, although I am unlikely to be the one attacked." She directs her gaze at me, and I shift my weight self-consciously. "Who attacked you, Ichigo-san?" Izuru-san shifts to stare intently in my direction.

I furrow my brows in thought. "I'm not sure," I reply honestly. "I couldn't get a good look at her. She was wearing loose fitting, black clothes that covered her entire body, including the majority of her face, and-"

"Her?" Shiba-dono raises an elegant brow in question. "If she was wearing that type of clothing, how do you know this person was female?"

"W-well, I, um…" I scramble for the right words to explain and I can feel my face heating up- badly. "I kinda… accidentally… put my hand on her…" I fumble with my words. Fortunately, she doesn't push the subject. Instead, she raises a hand to stop me.

"It's alright, Ichigo-san," she soothes, taking pity on me. "We can work through the details later."

"With all do respect, ma'am…" That guy, Izuru, speaks up, peering at us from around his long, blonde bangs.

"Go on," Shiba-dono urges, curious enough.

"From the sounds of it, he confronted a stealth force operative. If that is what you are facing, I will not be adequate protection…"

She smiles. "Thank you for your concern, although I believe it is too early to make those kind of assumptions… Perhaps it is someone with similar skill, and not one of our own." I wonder how likely that is, when non-shinigami are denied the right to train?

"Of course. I apologize." He bows.

The lady waves a hand dismissively. "There is no need to apologize; just please be sure not to spread any rumors regarding your suspicions."

"Yeah. And I'm grateful that you're both taking me seriously, by the way," I add sincerely. I am relieved that I am not being accused of making a grab for attention, or some other such crap. My thanks might as well have fallen on deaf ears. He just looks at me blankly for a moment before returning his attention to Shiba-dono. I quickly become frustrated upon realizing that he is only taking me seriously because Shiba-dono is.

"Izuru-san," the raven-haired lady smoothly breaks the awkward silence. "As soon as dawn arrives, would you be so kind as to escort us to the Shiba compound? I believe I would feel safer if we stayed there from now on."

"Huh?" I comment oh-so-intelligently at the use of 'we'. She's taking me with her?

Izuru glances between us in slight uncertainty, sharing my sentiments. "Both yourself and him, ma'am?"

She smiles and nods patiently at him. "I did say 'we', and I wasn't the one attacked after all."

"I understand," Izuru quickly complies. "But Unohana-taicho-" he begins, taking in her sickly pale appearance.

"Will understand as well, I'm sure." Shiba-dono is still smiling, though suddenly there is an edge to it.

I resist the urge to inch away from the woman. She's not as intimidating as Unohana-taicho, but she's a close second, that's for sure.

"Er- of course," Izuru stumbles over his words some; the slight edge of nervousness is the first sign of emotion from him that I've seen. "We shouldn't have to wait long for dawn. The exit is this w-"

"Wait!" I cut in rather loudly, startling the pair. I quickly regain composure when two pairs of eyes train on me. "As much as I appreciate the concern, I came here with someone, a young boy with silver hair. His name is Toshiro, and, well, I can't just leave him here..." I explain sheepishly, scratching the back of my head lightly.

Shiba-dono's eyes widen and she agrees amiably. "Hitsugaya Toshiro, I know of him. Quickly, let's go fetch him. I'm sorry, Ichigo-san, it was terrible of me to forget…" I quickly reassure her and we make our way to Toshiro's room. Izuru is leading the way since he knows the Division the best.

"Toshiro…" I shake him awake gently. He grumbles some, but other than that doesn't stir. I frown. "Oi, Toshiro," I say a tad louder, a bit more insistent with my shaking. "You need to wake up."

He blinks his eyes open, squinting at me. "Ichigo…?" he croaks, trying to gain his bearings.

"Yeah," I confirm, smiling tiredly down at him. "Sorry to wake you like this, but we need to go."

"What? Why?" he inquires, sounding irritated and more than a little cranky. He doesn't seem to notice someone standing directly behind me, still too much out of it. I sigh and pick the smaller boy up. Geez, he's extremely light… I think to myself uneasily, not for the first time. I make a mental note to bring that up later when he's actually, fully awake. "Lemme go…" he protests weakly, kicking to make his point clear, although I barely feel it.

"Alright, alright, calm down…" I mutter, setting him gently on his feet. He sways unsteadily and rubs his eyes. He doesn't seem to be fully aware of it when I set a blanket from the bed around his shoulders, or when I nudge him towards his shoes.

"How sweet," Shiba-dono muses behind me.

"Uh…" I don't meet her eyes, and instead swiftly ask. "Could you grab another blanket to cover him with, please? It's kinda colder tonight than I thought it'd be." It really is. Much more than it just was a few minutes earlier, I swear….

"Of course~" she says sweetly, gracefully sliding forward to pick up the blanket from the bed and enfolding around the boy. Toshiro mumbles thanks as he squints at her, still seeming very much out of it. "There we go, all ready- or not quite. Ichigo-kun, your own shoes?"

Kun? I wince in chagrin at the childish suffix. I'm about to explain that I don't need any shoes, that it'd probably be for the best if we just leave as soon as possible, when something occurs to me. Something important. I smack myself on the forehead. My sword! How could I forget my damn sword in the other room!

-DIVIDER-

Kotetsu Isane's POV…

I don't know for long I have stayed frozen like this; one hand over my mouth as I stare unblinkingly at the monitor in front of me, the only light source in this darkened room. This… This isn't possible. What is this!? My gaze is glued to the slowly rotating image of Ichigo-san's reiryoku makeup. Barely even aware of what I am doing, my free hand (the one not pressed firmly over my mouth in shock) reaches out to the control panel. After inputting a few quick codes, the test restarts for the eighth time. For the eighth time, the same exact results are outputted. I have never seen anything like this. Ichigo-san… He's not a plus soul. He's not even a shinigami. I don't know what he is.

Processing…

Match found

What...? I finally blink as a small notification appears over the test results.

Patient [? Ichigo] is the direct male offspring of [Shiba Isshin].

Would you like to see the profile of [Shiba Isshin]?

[Yes] [No]

I can't move. I can't even breathe. I feel as though something has taken hold and is slowly strangling me to my second death. Another window appears before my horrified eyes.

Processing…

Match found

Patient [? Ichigo] is the

I can't even finish reading before another window appears in front, and then another, and another. Soon, the test results are entirely overshadowed by a mess of notifications pertaining the familial relations of the fourth's new patient. A patient who is supposed to have very recently died and passed on from the World of the Living, and yet is somehow a noble of the Soul Society? Not just any noble though- no, he is from the Shiba Clan, one of the five major noble clans that holds sway over the Seireitei.

What… what will happen once the Shibas realize I know, if they don't already? My only saving grace is that the Shibas are not like the Shihōin, who would not hesitate to silence me- permanently. The Shibas traditionally hate assassins and underhanded methods. They have never been for subtlety. On the other hand, the Shibas are known to fly into a rage, or turn into something dangerously cold and new altogether when it comes to the safety of one of their own. I suppose then, what it all comes down to is… How far will they go in order to protect one of their own?

For a brief moment, Clan Head Shiba Kaien stands in front of me- pitch black bangs shadowing his usually vibrant eyes, a deep set frown twisting his lips, a hand atop his zanpakuto's hilt and a heavy sense of killing intent lingering around him. It's like the time I spoke to him just after Miyako's disappearance all over again, except now this is to defend a long lost child of his precious clan- a child I have so unwittingly threatened by just knowing of his existence. As the image of a coldly enraged Clan Head plays before my mental eye, a new sense of dread takes hold. In this moment of time, there is little doubt in my mind that there is nothing a Shiba wouldn't do to protect their own.

With a few strokes of the command keys I clear the monitor of any and all notifications.

...

Delete profile [? Ichigo]

Delete patient profile [? Ichigo]?

[Yes] [No]

...

Yes

Are you sure you wish to delete patient profile [? Ichigo]?

[Yes] [No]

...

My breath is short and sporadic. I am supposed to have this profile filled out and ready for Unohana-taicho by tomorrow noon at the latest. She is counting on me, grooming me to be the Third Seat of our division- she said so herself. Third Seat! That's more than I have ever dared to hope for! And Unohana-taicho, who has been like a mother to me? Wouldn't it be a betrayal to keep something so important from her, and about one of her patient's no less that she has entrusted me with?

...

The computer continues to wait for my response. My fingers itch to type in the negative command, fears aside. Yet another lady comes to mind, also sweet and motherly. She has never cared for wealth, power and or title of nobility. And after everything? After all the trauma and heartache she has so recently been through, am I cruel enough to do this to her and her family? Miyako-dono… She's my friend. Unohana-taicho… She is like a mother to me. Head of Clan Shiba? He terrifies me. But so does my mother figure half the time.

I suppose then, dear mistress, what it all truly comes down to is deciding what is right... and what you are willing to risk to do it. The truth of Itegumo's words rings clearly in my mind.

-DIVIDER-

Gal/Girl-of-Action- I still have some more chapters stored, but these haven't been betaed yet. With that in mind, what remains will take longer to post as I have to be extra careful to proofread it all myself. Meanwhile, I hope you've all enjoyed this chapter, and I look forward to reading any feedback you might have, especially in regards to Ukitake's scene or the final scene.

Regardless, thank you for taking the time to read this at all. See you next time.