A/N: So this took me forever. . . yeah. Sorry guys. Meant to have this out sooner but work and school just took over everything else! Plus Hitsugaya was being difficult. Said something about getting sick of Ukitake going into his dressing room and leaving candy for him to find all over the place.

I'll have to take care of that later.


Mon Cœur S'ouvre à Ta Voix

(My heart opens itself to your voice)


When My Heart Is Split Like Rio III


Things quickly slipped back to normal for Captain Toushiro Hitsugaya, falling back into the mundane as soon as he stepped through the office doors and peered at the horrendously sky-scraper-high piles of paperwork awaiting his return.

A sigh.

Was it sad that he still held out some hope in the back of his mind that one day Rangiku Matsumoto would own up to her age and mature?

A snore from his left and he didn't even bother to twitch.

It wasn't worth his effort-that much of a conclusion he had drawn already in the mere five minutes within his domain.

So instead of even bothering to throw something, or yell, or do anything of the sort, he went to his desk and as calmly as he could get himself to, sat down. The area was as he left it (except of course the piles had grown) and so it took him no time to find his office supplies and setting it in place before finally getting to work.

Minutes . . .

They trickled agonizingly into hours that passed in near silence with only thoughts and his sprawled lieutenant's constant shuffling as constant companions. As it was he already had too much to do, but even the worst of each report could do little to quell the growing uneasiness that seeped under his skin.

It wasn't a feeling of something bad, so he really wasn't sure how to categorize it. It didn't leave a gaping hole in the pit of his stomach, didn't send chills down his spine, couldn't even make him tense.

This was different.

The question was, how was it different and why?

As to the how part, he wasn't really sure. He felt normal. Too normal. Nothing was wrong, nothing was broken, there wasn't any maniac on the loose in Sereitei. . . not even a chicken was loose from the fourth division coop.

It was. . . boring again.

Matsumoto had not seemed to have caused too much trouble at his departure (after all the building was still standing) and there was nothing to be worried or angry about. Momo was still in a coma from the winter war (had been for three months) and he didn't really see any change in her the last time he went before he left with Rukia for the human world.

Rukia.

How was she? How was Ashido?

Somehow, the thought of the both of them stirred a strange emotion in him. Ashido had been a smartass but after being in a damn cave in the middle of nowhere for God only knows how long, then a few remarks out of line weren't that big of a deal. Toushiro almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

Instead, it might be a little safer to say that he could care less about him. Yes he was a promising shinigami with a bright future now that he returned as a hero (as Matsumoto would later confirm from the uproar he would cause in the SWA), but still, he was just Ashido.

However, once again the same link that had bound Sereitei to Karakura Town came into play.

Rukia.

Once again, she had inadvertently become a major character in recent events. How the hell was it that she wormed her way into everything? She was small, had a strong personality, and had been nothing but another orphan on the streets until Byakuya had picked her up—definitely not major role material.

And yet she was.

The captain shifted in his chair as he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger as he felt a headache coming on.

He really needed to stop making his thoughts so complicated.

For a while he stayed like that, forcing himself back into the rhythm of monotony until it began to become somehow soothing in all its dullness. Finally it began to seem as if every event before that moment took a back seat to what was in front of him and he found himself, if only for a moment, at peace.

"Taichooouuuuu! You're back!" Came the surprised chirp from the couch as Matsumoto sat up, rubbing at a bleary eye.

Did he say a moment? He meant a second.

"Yes, Matsumoto, I'm back. Now get yourself into that chair-" He jabbed a finger in the direction of her desk. "-and get started because those stacks aren't going anywhere."

Pouting, Rangiku let out a low whine as she laboriously dragged herself off of the couch and shuffled over to her desk, scratching lazily at her scalp.

"Nice to see you're in a good mood." Was the dark mutter as she plopped down loudly into her chair.

Her only response was a firm glare.

Somehow time passed then. The hours from that day slowly pulled the captain back into the viciously repetitive cycle of paperwork and he found it hard to keep track of the days other than by the little time stamp set on the corner of his desk for each report by the secretary.

It was completely effortless and surprising then to come in one day and find that the date he had placed on a report revealed it to be Friday morning. Not a single thing worth looking into had happened in Sereitei in that one week, he realized with disdain, and it certainly would not be happening today if his theory was correct.

At least that was what he thought until he saw his lieutenant stroll in casually at eight in the morning for work, quite sober and happy.

If she had grown a second head, his eyes wouldn't be able to go any wider.

"Hullo, taichoouuuu!" And before he could move out of the way he was grabbed in a suffocating bear hug. Trying in vain to push her away, his face quickly turned red with the effort until the suction cup that was his well endowed companion finally released him with a shove that sent him stumbling.

"Guess what?"

He would've answered with a smart retort but was rendered speechless as she casually strolled to her desk and sat down, tidying up her work area as she spoke (completely unaware of the state of her captain).

"I'm going on a daaaate!"

His brow twitched.

A sigh.

"You're working. I like him already."

Rangiku gave her best dry glare but couldn't hold it for long as she slipped into a wide grin.

"Yep. That was his only condition. That I finish my work so we can go out together."

"Well then, don't let me get in the way." Toushiro muttered as he headed over to his own desk. He had barely settled in before Rangiku looked up at him once more, this time in a conspiratory manner. If he didn't know any better, he would swear that this was the look she gave any of her girlfriends before she let them in on some juicy gossip.

He tried to ignore it as he took the first stroke of the brush on a report.

"I saw Kuchiki-taichou and his sister pass by yesterday."

For a moment the brush hesitated mid-signature.

"Oh? I assume she is finally well?"

The ink stroke continued fluidly, but the white haired youth noticed the waver in the black trail upon the report and he frowned.

"I don't know. . . there seems to be something different about her. I think something's wrong."

Matsumoto was leaning on the edge of her desk, elbows propped up and one hand holding her chin as the other waved the dry brush idly in the air, brows raised high as she waited for a response.

"Maybe it has to do with that rumor going around?"

What would it matter to him? She was simply a subordinate, a young woman caught up in the tangled webs of those high brow clans, and now for every spoon they fed her she was paying her own price.

"That wasn't . . . your first, was it?"

But there it was—an inkling of something there.

The memory had all but blurred in his mind until now, coming back as sharply as that day when they had fallen through the hole and hidden from the arrancar. Suddenly it wasn't Matsumoto sitting in the other desk, wasn't anyone but the woman who had occupied a tiny crevice in the middle of nowhere (in his mind) and almost killed herself to save a friend.

Wide violet eyes, pale skin flushed and showing even in the shadows.

Neither breathing in the darkness as the trembling of their enemy's footsteps fell in rhythm with the quaking of his world. The inky tresses twined in his fingers when he pulled her forward and instinctively his hand clenched at the memory, drawn to the darkest of black tangled once among the crooks of his digits.

"What do you think, taichou? Honestly, I don't think she's ready for marriage with anyone."

Toushiro didn't look up from his work like Matsumoto expected him to. He kept his head bowed over the report (something about inventory), brow furrowed in focus but eyes strangely distant.

"I. . . didn't mean to do that."

"Why would that matter to us, Matsumoto?" Was the waspish, resolute reply.

Frustrated, the captain looked up and glared at his lieutenant before jabbing his brush in her direction. "Don't you think you should be focusing more on your work than stupid office gossip? We need to have over half of this work done by tomorrow morning and I don't see you putting the slightest dent into your part!"

"Alright, alright, calm down. I was just filling you in, ya know?"

They fell into a rhythmic silence where only the brushes, shuffling of papers, and occasional sigh could be heard. It had almost settled into something akin to peace before Matsumoto decided to give it another try. Baby blue eyes shifted then to the captain slyly, her voice calm and offhand as she put an overly flourished signature on a document.

"There's no suitor yet."

Silence-true silence-met her statement then as cerulean eyes regarded her warningly behind a hooded gaze.

"I don't care."

It unsettled him to notice his vice captain openly grinning. Nonetheless, that was the least of his worries as he suddenly came to two conclusions in the span of those few seconds.

One: he was sort of (just the tiniest of bits) lying.

And two: somewhere in his mind, he was beginning to think that he kind of did mean to kiss Rukia Kuchiki—but for some reason, that thought wasn't unsettling at all.


"It's a little too early to be daydreaming, don't you think Rukia-sama?"

Blinking, Rukia turned with a half smile to look up at the servant standing beside her. Pale feet swung idly from the edge of the small wooden bridge over the koi pond outside of her room, toes skimming the water and leaving small ripples in their wake. Her hair was dripping still from the long shower she had taken, little rivulets forming on her skin as she shifted and wrapped herself a bit more in the snug bathroom robe.

"I do not think your brother would appreciate you feeding his koi your toes."

"Okay, okay, I get it—no toes in the water."

Ever since she had woken up, Rukia began to wonder if in reality this was the nightmare. It was like being back in the academy, with people talking and whispering behind her back—some even having the guts to point. Her brother had prepared her for the rumors; ridiculous things that he assured her held only one inkling of truth, which he eloquently informed her of being that a Kuchiki had to get married to assure an heir.

But Rukia was no idiot, she could read her brother's silence better than anyone and she knew that there was more he wasn't telling her.

But one look into his stoic gaze and suddenly she didn't have the heart to ask.

So she had clamped her mouth shut and instead tried not to listen, to escape the whispers of even some of the people who would say hi to her warmly every morning. But try as she might the thoughts festered in her heart and left a dark feeling within that loomed over her heavily for the few days after their return.

And then there was the captain.

It wasn't until she had nothing but her own thoughts as company in the recovery wing of the fourth division that it really hit Rukia that what she had done, and consequently what one Hitsugaya-taichou had done, was all real.

He had kissed her.

And try as she might, the black haired young woman just couldn't shrug it off.

There were so many things that she had just ignored—was that the true personality of the captain showing through? Was there a side to him that no one knew? And why, of all people, would he show it to her?

He had caught her so off guard—

"—sama?"

"Huh? Sorry, Setsuna. I got lost there for a minute, what was that?"

"I was asking you if you were alright. Though I do believe that answers my question quite clearly. Now tell me," She said, coming to kneel primly beside Rukia as she smoothed down her knee-length plain pink kimono, "what is on your mind, Rukia-sama?"

Frowning, Rukia could do no more than shrug before turning her gaze from her rippling reflection in the water towards the side, admiring the beauty of her brother's gardens as she tried to make sense of her meanderings into words.

Try as she might, she could not bring herself to bring up the topic of her brother. It was something lurking under the surface, worrying her, but she knew it was a matter that was almost at her fingertips if she only knew where to look. On top of that, even though she fully trusted the maid, this was something that the petite shinigami almost felt special for knowing—something that, as troublesome as it may be, was a thing she knew from her heart to be concrete proof of the tie between the two siblings, a reflection of the deepening bond with Byakuya—something she was more than a little reluctant to share.

So she chose instead to focus on the little nugget of curious happenings that was her trip to the human world.

"What if. . . someone who you really respect. . . well—no not really because that would imply knowing him really well—what if someone who you respect as your superior, who you got to know better through work. . . what if he did something that caught you off guard?"

For a moment Setsuna regarded Rukia with a look akin to suspicion.

Had something bad happened to Rukia-sama on her mission? Would she have to break her master's trust and bring up the issue to Lord Byakuya? No, she must not jump to conclusions—she had to tread carefully here, lest there truly be some delicate issue at hand.

Already her having brought it up meant that it was urgent and something intimate that she didn't seem to have shared with anyone else, judging by the way she avoided her servant's gaze.

So Setsuna jumped straight to the point.

"Is there something that happened on that mission, Rukia-sama?" The young woman gave no reaction but a small twitch of her fingers. If Setsuna didn't know any better, her keen brown eyes wouldn't have caught the young woman's attempts not to fidget (as she was prone to do when nervous).

A superior. . . who was with her on that mission again? It was a captain, but who? Obviously not her brother, or her own captain (Ukitake, who was prone to sporadically visit both siblings and had done so during Rukia's recuperation), so then who?

It was time to backtrack a little.

"It was a captain, I presume?" Sighing, Rukia braced herself on the hands she placed behind her, leaning back to look up at the sky.

"Yeah." She answered after a moment of staring out at the endless blue.

"And which captain was this?"

"Hitsugaya Toushiro of the tenth division." Not that a servant needed to bother with such trivialities, so saying his division meant next to naught to Setsuna. But still—the name was known far and wide for the prowess of said young man both on the battlefield and off—a prodigy rare and true.

"Ah, I see." She had seen him maybe once or twice when Lord Byakuya had taken office matters at home—a white haired youth about her own master's age, with hair as white as the moon and eyes that sparked with zeal and intelligence. He looked barely older than a youngling, but the way he carried himself had imprinted his memory upon all who could enter the room.

But as much as an awed impression as he had left on her, the maid tried to stay unbiased as she considered her master's words and tried to connect the pieces together.

"And what, pray tell, could such a young man do that left you so shaken?"

Surely he couldn't have tried to take advantage of Rukia-sama—

"He kissed me."

-Or maybe he had.

"Was this . . . forced?"

For a moment Rukia frowned, biting her lip as she tried to answer. Her eyes were still firmly on the cloudless sky.

"It wasn't. . . anything romantic."

"Were you drowning?"

"No."

Well, that was about as logical as one could get with that. Was there any other reason to kiss someone to get something other than anything romantically linked to the gesture?

Surely not.

"Then why did he. . .act in such a way?"

"I wouldn't shut up."

At this, the brown eyes of the calm maid widened considerably as they shot to the much calmer shinigami beside her. For a moment she lost her composure as she nearly screeched, "WHAT?" making Rukia jump in surprise as she turned to try and amend her poor choice of wording.

"Well, okay let me explain the situation before you run to my brother and scream for revenge." The look the maid gave her would've made even the sturdiest of shinigami cower. "It just happened so quick that really I didn't think about it until we got back."

"Well, you best go on and tell me quickly, Rukia-sama, unless you want to be late to your duties this morning." An excuse to usher the young woman into her story faster, even though Setsuna knew Rukia could feel the over protectiveness coming off in waves from her. Especially now that it seemed to be something a bit more delicate than what the blue haired maid had originally expected—on top of the fact that she did actually feel a little (a lot) undignified for her master.

Surely captain Hitsugaya couldn't be such a horribly perverted young man, could he? Or had the hormones suddenly gone to his head?

With a hand scratching lightly at her neck, Rukia began to recount from the beginning of the mission, sparing no detail until finally she reached the part where her own mind was stuck before looking up at Setsuna with expectant eyes, curiously awaiting a reaction from the poised young woman but getting none in the sudden silence that followed.

"Well . . . ?" Was the impatient prod.

"As soon as Rukia comes home, I need you to start preparing her for an engagement."

The words of Rukia's brother, the lord of the manor echoed in Setsuna's head even as she turned towards her charge slowly. "I really. . . don't know. From what I have seen of him, Hitsugaya-sama never struck me as someone to do anything. . ."-here she minutely scrunched her nose in thought- ". . . rash."

Frowning, Rukia lifted her feet off of the edge of the small bridge and made to get up.

"All I know," Setsuna said, placing a gentle hand on Rukia's shoulder to stop her, "Is that you must thank him, at least for not having left you to die like he could've."

Sighing heavily, Rukia turned to smile weakly at the maid. She felt as Setsuna's petite hand gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, I know."

"Then we must hurry so you can see to your duties and to Hitsugaya-sama."

Ever graceful, the maid got up quietly, completely unaware of the sudden hesitation in her companion's movements.

Do you suppose I'm thinking this over too much, Shirayuki?

The petite shinigami stood only a moment longer before following Setsuna inside, thoughts clouding her mind as she prepared, unsettled by the quiet of the spirit residing in her soul. If someone were to ask her what she had had for breakfast, or if she had even bothered—if the cook greeted her as he usually did, or was too busy to do even that, the young Kuchiki noble would be hard pressed to answer.

I'm sure he meant no harm, Rukia-sama. Was the answer suddenly given as she stared one last time into the mirror in her room. That alone I can assure you. Everything else, I think would need more time for us to figure out.

People passed, servants bowed, Sode no Shirayuki whispered reassurance on deaf ears, and the sun had barely began to climb on its trek across the expanse of the sky as Rukia Kuchiki made her way by sheer routine to her division.

There were too many thoughts plagued by a broad back with black ink splashed over a white haori—with eyes that spoke volumes, and a coat draped over her shoulders—with the deep timbre of a voice she had only heard but a handful of times aimed at her.

You can't close yourself off and pretend nothing happened; to just shrug it off because of what I told you, am I right?

She was too caught up with the hand that ghosted at the nape of her neck and pulled her in for an unexpected kiss.

Having feelings isn't against the rules, Rukia-sama.


"Ah! There you are!" Freezing at the doorway, Rukia blinked stupidly for a second as her captain approached her with a stack of papers in his hands. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Yes, I did Ukitake-taichou, thank you for asking."

"I'm glad." Was the smiling reply.

Violet eyes fell then to the handful of papers once again before rising to meet the brown eyes of her captain. "Is there something you need of me, Ukitake-taichou?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, there is." Sheepishly Ukitake grinned down at her. "I sent Kiyone and Sentarou out on a mission but now I don't have anyone to deliver these."

Well, it was no wonder it was thinking-level quiet.

"Oh, no problem, I'll do it for you, sir."

"Thank you, you'd be doing me a huge favor. Kyouraku-san is due to come in for tea any moment and if I leave he would get very upset."

Rukia smiled. "Consider it done, sir."

"Thanks again, Rukia-san. The top three reports need to go to the seventh division, the next to fourth, and the last two to tenth."

Something must have shown on her face because immediately the frail man caught it and his expression melted into one of worry.

"Something wrong, Rukia-san?"

"Ah! No, nothing." She said, flushing with embarrassment. "It's nothing, still feeling a bit out of it I guess. Don't worry, I'll take care of these." She lifted the stack in front of her for emphasis.

The white haired captain eyed her apprehensively for a moment. "Are you sure? Because I can just-"

"No, there's no need for you to further trouble yourself, sir. Don't worry, I'll have these delivered right away."

"Alright, and thanks again." The petite shinigami bowed to her captain respectfully before offering him a grin and disappearing through the door, feeling his soft brown eyes on her back until she disappeared from view. It wasn't until she reached the outer doors of her division that Rukia finally let out a breath she didn't even realize had been caught in her throat.

Why was it that the one division she wanted to avoid for a while had now become the one she needed to visit? Was some higher power against her?

Maybe it's better this way. Thoughts like this shouldn't be allowed to just linger, or they'll surely drive you insane.

Well, it might be a little too late to save her sanity.

And besides, she had a bit of time to think about what she would do, seeing as she had to visit two other divisions before then. Of course, trying to find the shortest route would be the smartest alternative but seeing as the tenth division would then fall second to seventh, the idea was a little less appealing.

Rukia settled on fourth division first then, not dawdling even though she felt the need to drag her feet and refusing politely to have a quick checkup after Isane took the reports from her. Her trip to seventh was uneventful as well, the captain taking the reports from her personally before asking briefly about Ichigo and (surprisingly) chatting up pleasantries before briefly sending her on her way.

It wasn't until she had silently let herself out and her fingers released the now closed shoji door that it hit her that she hadn't really thought of anything on her way through either division. Frowning at her own inability to even concentrate enough on that, she began her walk slowly towards the last of her destinations.

Maybe she was over thinking this.

Her steps were light as she jumped up onto a roof and stood there for a moment.

But if you don't speak to him, you won't know.

The reports fluttered in her hand, and for the first time that day Rukia Kuchiki looked up to the sky with curious eyes. Her gaze roved over the thick clouds in the distance, noting how they were quickly heading towards Sereitei with lightning sparking through the thick of them and lighting them in fiery hues that took her breath away.

For some reason, it soothed her.

Maybe she was over analyzing what had happened.

Closing her eyes, the black haired young woman tried to clear her head for a moment, taking in a deep breath that she almost forgot to release when she felt a light tap on the flap of her robe, near her elbow. Looking down, she raised the sleeve but saw nothing and figured it to be a bug, sighing before smoothing down the reports and coming to the conclusion she better get back to her own division soon, lest her captain worry.

So she jumped onto the next roof, and soon onto the next until a few minutes later she was standing silently before the doors of the tenth division. It took her a moment to steel her nerves, swallowing and hugging the files to her chest before going to slide the shoji doors open, only to have them wrenched open for her and having something big ram into her.

"Oh! Kuchiki-san, so sorry, didn't see you there!"

"M-matsumoto-fukutaichou, good morning." Rukia replied from the ground, a hand on her smarting nose. Somehow she had managed to only lose one piece of paper which she quickly gathered while trying hard not to let her eyes water from the pain.

"I just came to deliver these from the thirteenth division-"

"I'm actually done for the day, so if you want to set them on the desk, I'll be on my way, okay? Be a dear and tell Hitsugaya-taichou I'm done, will ya? Thanks!" And before Rukia could even utter a word, the busty blonde had disappeared around a corner and surely was well on her way to the closest bar.

A sigh.

"Yes ma'am." Rukia muttered.

She didn't even bother to try and gather her nerve again, instead trudging inside slowly and coming to find (with major relief) that she was alone. Where the captain had gone Matsumoto hadn't mentioned and so Rukia found it tempting to just leave the reports there and run.

Five minutes, the petite shinigami thought as she looked around, I'll give him five minutes.

So the young Kuchiki noble shuffled nervously from foot to foot for a moment before finally deciding it best to sit. Plopping down on one corner of the couch, she set the reports in her lap before demurely placing her small hands on top of them.

The twitching of her own thumb caught her attention for a moment, and so with nothing better to do, Rukia looked at her hands—really looked at them for a moment.

They weren't a noble's hands—that was the first thought that came to her mind. Yes, the skin was soft but it was marred with scratches, with tiny pale scars that sometimes crisscrossed over each other like the scribbles of a child. The light pink of her nails were clean but short and slightly jagged; a sign of use, of roughhousing, and the constant grit of a life spent with the very basic (but constant) need to survive.

She wasn't delicate and prim.

Rukia wasn't raised with a silver spoon and every once in a while that thought became glaringly apparent in a way that boiled under her skin, sent frustration looming like a cloud over her head and made her feel almost incompetent. Like when she stared at her own reflection in the mirror, or when she passed a fellow female shinigami and wondered how someone could give such a definitive air of femininity in such a coarse and downright cruel environment such as this.

Because try as she might, even with the violet of her large eyes on her hands, she couldn't see it.

"Yes, Rukia, you have ten fingers and they all come attached to your hand." To her credit, the petite shinigami didn't jump. Unfortunately she did visibly stiffen, jerking her head around to see the white haired captain of the tenth division standing behind the sofa with tan arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow raised.

"N-nice to see you too, sir." Was the muttered reply as she got up from her perch with her head ducked to try and hide the blush.

"I assume those are for me?"

She simply nodded as he held out a hand. Soundlessly the young woman relinquished her hold of the stack as he took a firm hold on it, not once meeting his gaze.

"Something wrong?" He asked, noting her faraway expression.

Violet orbs slipped to him for a second, lips pressed lightly together as something strange flashed through the pools of emotion that were her eyes. For a long, drawn out moment he couldn't breathe in the sudden scrutiny of her gaze, a sensation he couldn't quite pin down urging him to take a small step forward towards her. For what purpose, he couldn't even begin to fathom even as he seriously considered it.

But then she turned away and the spell was broken.

"No, I'm fine. Just have a lot on my mind. I'm sorry if I discomforted you in any way."

"It's. . . nothing." His gaze was heavy on her form, noting how her violet eyes fell on anything in the room but him and it disconcerted the white haired youth more than he cared to acknowledge.

It was like being back in that little hole.

Inky black on tan fingers. . .

Racing hearts . . .

Awkward stillness.

"Matsumoto-fukutaichou said to let you know she was done for the day."

"That's fine."

Silence.

"Ukitake-taichou sends his regards."

"At least he didn't send candy this time."

"And those reports-"

"Is there something I did that would merit you acting so strange?" The annoyance was plain on his face as Toushiro headed towards his desk with an irritated (how was that even possible?) stride and put the papers neatly in front of his chair before turning and leaning on the edge of the table, arms crossing in a business-like manner as he regarded her.

Usually he wouldn't be bothered by such behavior from inferior ranking shinigami, but this was Rukia—a woman who always looked people in the eye and had never, to his knowledge, stood as demurely as she did now.

A woman who not once evaded his presence or feared him.

Whether it was shock at the forwardness or just the fact that Rukia had never experienced any scenario like this before (had someone read through her so quickly), the young black haired woman stood rooted to the spot much like an awkward child, swallowing. When she had stood from the couch she didn't know, but her fingers itched at her sides to fiddle with something.

She clenched them into fists.

"I-I . . . no, sir, you did nothing wrong."

Silence then, his gaze never leaving her form as thoughts raced behind the brightness of his teal eyes and a frown marred his features. For a moment she too returned the stare, wondering what exactly he was thinking over so fervently before being unable to take the sheer nakedness of her soul in front of the examination and turned away once more.

"It's that rumor going around, that's what's bothering you isn't it?"

There wasn't an inkling of sarcasm in the gesture that followed. His surprise was great enough for him to unconsciously raise white brows at the sound of her light chuckle. It was a small, sad sound that filled the air between them and left her looking defeated for a moment as she shrugged.

"How can something that I've spent years dealing with, bother me anymore?"

"I don't know." He replied. "You tell me."

I believe, Sode no Shirayuki whispered suddenly, it is time to cut our losses, Rukia-sama.

The petite shinigami could not agree more.

"It would not be something worthy of your time, sir. Now if you will excuse me, I have tasks that require my attention." Bowing hastily, Rukia swiveled on her heel and made to leave.

There were so many things running through Toushiro's mind at a speed that even he could barely comprehend in that moment.

Why was she still trying to be so unbreakable? Why did it matter that she was avoiding him so much? Why did someone who but a week ago had been so insignificant to his existence suddenly make him drop everything he had been doing, everything that was calling loudly for his attention, just to force an answer out of her?

Why, why, why?

But if there was one thing that he knew for sure, it was the single repeated undercurrent in every thought:

Stop her.

Rukia was nearly out the door when the captain of the tenth division decided to speak again, eyes twin pools of liquid ice in the sudden stillness.

"I was born in Junrinan and raised by my grandmother. Hinamori . . . I grew up with her."

She froze.

He took a step forward.

"My favorite fruit is watermelon, and I kind of do like those things you got me at that one restaurant."

Rukia couldn't help the smile that started creeping onto her features. Still, she didn't turn.

"Pancakes, sir."

"Yeah. . . those things. I think you're brave for eating Inoue's cooking-"

"It's not that bad once you get used to it."

"-And that you should go take a walk with me so I can have an excuse to get away from here again."

And so we can talk.

There was hesitance as Rukia finally turned to acknowledge him. Her eyes reflected the question looming in her mind (why are you doing this?) even as thin fingers slipped from the edge of the doorframe and she regarded him over one shoulder.

"Is that a suggestion or an order?"

Toushiro cleared his throat, shifting slightly from foot to foot as he muttered, "Take it as you will."

Rukia moved out of the way as he brushed past her more in surprise and pure reflex than anything, blinking at his slowly retreating back before snapping out of it with a harsh shake of her head. Pulling the shoji doors of the tenth division offices closed behind her, the small Kuchiki trotted after the captain.

After a moment of only hearing their sandals scuffling in the dirt, Rukia couldn't take it anymore. "Where are we going?"

For a moment she thought maybe he hadn't heard her, at least until she heard his sigh.

"I don't know."

". . . oh."

"Is Ukitake expecting you back soon?"

"Well, he's having tea with Kyouraku-taichou, so I don't think he'll even remember."

"Good."

Violet eyes scrutinized the back of the captain as he walked, wondering what exactly he meant but unable to push the question out. So she followed in complete silence, losing herself once more to thought.

"Do you always like walking behind people?"

She stopped.

"Sorry?" The petite shinigami asked with a furrowed brow. Her mind, already awhirl with the possible implications of this new predicament could barely keep up with the actions of the young man before her. For a moment she just stood there until finally his words trickled through her system and then finally, she looked up at the captain who had stopped but a few feet away from her.

"Yeah," Toushiro replied, arms crossing, "do you always walk behind whoever's with you?"

Tilting her head slightly, Rukia could do little but scratch at the back of her head as she shrugged.

"Most of the people I'm around are usually of higher rank . . .so yes, I guess so."

"Well stop it." Noting her raised brows, he offered his ever-convincing reasoning with a small frown. "It's annoying."

Rukia was at a loss for words—had been for a while now.

"I ... apologize, Hitsugaya-taichou." Was the small, hesitant reply.

"Hitsugaya-san."

Now he thoroughly had her floored.

"Excuse me?" Forming those two words was the hardest thing the petite shinigami had done in a while. She was so beyond confused now and seriously considering the possibility of having fallen into a parallel universe (or a dream, she could still be at Urahara's recuperating)—surely stranger things had happened, yes?

"Hitsugaya-san. Got used to you saying my name like that in the human world. Bothers me."

". . . . okay. I'm sorry. . . Hitsugaya-tai—san."

Without another word he swiveled and continued, wide violet eyes the only thing following for a moment until Rukia finally shook free of her reverie and once again trotted to catch up to him—this time, coming to nearly brush shoulders with the short captain.

The itch to ask where they were headed nagged at Rukia persistently once more even though she was well aware he had as much of a clue to their destination as her (i.e. none). Still, it was something to say to fill in the tiny space between them (which she was hyperaware of) and possibly a chance to figure out something else—a different angle on her companion.

Because on the surface things hadn't changed—he was still a captain, she a shinigami inferior, and nothing had been brought to her attention as any sign that he had any sort of interest in changing that relationship in any other sort of manner. Maybe he didn't consider her a friend. But that was something Rukia could understand, at the very least.

Hitsugaya. . . –san.

He had gotten used to her calling him by his last name like that? Even in her mind it sounded strange and disrespectful. She almost felt ashamed to think it.

But he preferred it that way.

"I've never been here."

His words tore at the weak rhythm in her head, gaze roving the area and really seeing it for the first time. How her feet had carried her here was something to marvel at even as they stood still for a moment and tried to get reoriented.

They had somehow begun walking towards the outskirts of Sereitei—not hard considering the location of the tenth division. Consequently, it was effortless to reach the more wild areas fencing their small city, the perfectly manicured grass giving way to gently sloping hills dotted with trees, wild brush, and wildflowers. A tranquil lake a few yards away caught Rukia's attention and she was suddenly disappointed the sun had decided to leave—it would've been a wondrous sight with the right lighting.

They trudged to the top of a hill effortlessly and stopped to take in the view without so much as a word between them. The white haired youth was motionless as his eyes fell on the landscape, gray skies reflected in his calm gaze.

"Storm's coming." Came the small voice from beside him.

The captain regarded Rukia through a quick sideways glance, noting how much calmer she seemed at the thought of the torrential rain that could fall upon them at any moment in the near future. Her violet eyes had slipped closed and the deep breath she took visibly relaxed her tiny shoulders and the clenched fists at her sides.

"Is that one of your zanpaktou's abilities?"

Her eyes opened slowly once more as if she was savoring the fading silence and the last of that trickling second, gaze slipping in a glance towards him before shrugging halfheartedly, head tilting in thought for a moment as she chose best how to reply.

"Well, sort of. Sode no Shirayuki always loved the feeling storms brought. It's like wrath . . . a power she can feel in the air that kind of reminds her she's alive."

"Funny—she didn't strike me as the power hungry type when I first saw her." It went without saying which incident he was referring to and so Rukia simply raised her shoulders slightly in another shrug as she began to follow Toushiro down the hill and towards the edge of the lake, close to an ancient willow that draped into the water.

"Shirayuki is kind, don't get me wrong." She said, sidestepping a small bush distractedly. "But she likes the feeling that comes with the call of battle just as much as the next person. It makes her feel like for once, she's in control."

The captain muttered something under his breath and even though Rukia caught a snippet sounding much like "same's the owner" she didn't call him out on it, much too calmed by the tension of the storm in the air to really care of what jabs he might take at her.

So instead she turned the question on him.

"What about yours?"

Her eyes followed Toushiro's form as he reached the willow and picked his way through weaving roots deftly, finding a small niche by the trunk and plopping down before leaning his head back with closed eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

White brow furrowed, the young man contemplated for a moment how best to answer.

"Tough. He can have quite a temper, but for the most part he's quiet. Doesn't like to get involved much unless necessary."

Rukia eyed the lower limbs of the willow as she tried to find herself a place to sit, biting down the smart remark that was about to leave her lips.

Same's the owner, eh?

She could feel Shirayuki's smirk.

The captain of the tenth division heard more than saw the shaking of the tree limbs, small leaves showering him (and everything around) in green. Plucking a leaf off quickly, teal eyes rose to the limbs of the tree above him before his hands began to brush off the rest of the attack on his hair.

"Rukia, what the hell are you doing?"

More shaking of the limbs, the sound of a sandal scraping bark, and then, "Climbing."

Toushiro raised a brow.

"Why?"

Rukia looked back down at him from her perch above, small hands holding tightly in an awkward angle as she grinned. "The view's always nicer from above."

Rolling his eyes, the captain sighed before letting his head fall back onto the trunk. Above him there was silence and he wondered if Rukia was doing the same until her voice broke through.

"There's someone on the other side of the lake." Glancing up, Toushiro waited for her to elaborate, watching as she squinted and leaned forward slightly.

"Be careful or you're going to fall."

She ignored him.

"Two people. . . sitting by the edge." She was leaning dangerously forward from the tangle of branches, too caught up by her curiosity to pay attention to her own balance. It wasn't like she hadn't climbed a tree before and the feeling of gravity pulling her down didn't scare her in the slightest so she continued her investigation.

"Rukia, you should really be careful or you're going to-"

A gasp, and before Toushiro could think he was scrambling up and diving to catch Rukia. The petite shinigami winced as she grabbed at a branch she passed on her way down, the pull of gravity jerking her arm violently. The eyes that had been scrunched closed during the fall now tentatively opened to squint below her, body swinging from the last of the momentum.

"Can you land from there?"

Instead of answering, Rukia released her grip on the branch and let herself fall the few feet, landing on her haunches like a cat before losing her balance on the willow roots. One of her feet wedged in between the snarled limbs and with a light muttered swear she got up carefully, pulling her foot out and rubbing at the now sore spot that gave the promise of a new bruise for tomorrow.

"I warned you."

There was no reply Rukia could muster.

"So what did you see up there?"

Standing up straight once more, the memory of what she had whitnessed suddenly hit the young woman and she remembered with startling clarity why she had fallen in the first place.

The reaction was instant—her face turned bright red.

"I think we should leave."

Toushiro raised a brow, eyes following her as she picked her way through the roots and hopped back onto regular ground before beginning the trek back the way they had come with a slight limp. He contemplated going up himself for a moment but found it easier just to follow the Rukia instead and coax the answer out of her—so he did.

"Two people? Were they shinigami?"

Rukia tried not to think about the distinctive features she had seen—the glasses on one, the tattoos on the other. . . the way they leaned into each other. . .

"Y-yeah." She stammered, trying hard to erase what she had seen from her mind.

"What were they doing?" Visibly flinching, the petite shinigami stumbled awkwardly for a second, well aware of the arm that shot out to help her get stable again.

"They were. . . uh. . . enjoying some time alone."

The eyebrow that raised in question did little to coax an explanation out of her.

"I think it best to just leave it at that." Her eyes were once again avoiding his own.

What exactly had they walked in on? It took her a moment, but the implication that they had trailed into a place meant to be romantic suddenly drowned her with what-ifs and the possibility that something could've happened!

I really do not believe things would've gotten to such an extreme, Rukia-sama, calm down.

"You alright?" She audibly swallowed, face still dusted pink as she glanced up at the captain and nodded.

"Y-yeah. Just . . ." Blinking then, her gaze rose to the sky as she lifted a hand out.

"Did you feel that?"

Cerulean orbs went from her to the sky, a familiar little cold tap on his face making him wince involuntarily at the contact.

"It's starting to rain. We better hurry back."

The walk was a quick one back to the tenth division, Rukia barely stepping foot inside the door before a loud crack of thunder announced the downpour for the whole of Soul Society. Toushiro sighed as he tried the lightswitch and frowned.

Great.

The twelfth division was the most technologically advanced place in three worlds and yet they couldn't make the power stay on during a storm.

Lucky he kept a stash of candles ready.

Going to the small closet and coming back out with a lit candle, he automatically headed straight for his desk, practically collapsing into the chair and trying to switch gears back into work-mode.

"Rukia, did you . . ." The words died in his throat as he noted Rukia's still form leaning on the doorframe of the open shoji doors. The warm rays of the flickering candle barely reached her form, wax dripping onto the small tray at his side.

Her small figure was perfectly motionless. With the streaking of brightness across the skies in jagged lines of lightning, her pale face illuminated ethereally and she looked suddenly to him like a woman waiting for a lover patiently, adoringly.

If she breathed he didn't know—probably didn't realize that more than the storm that suddenly raged outside his doors, the small woman worshiping the rain with her eyes took his breath away more. The violet of her gaze twinkled with each passing flash in the darkened room, strands of inky black tresses swaying in the breeze of the rain as her lips curved slightly into a contented smile.

She was. . . untouchable.

His gaze must have been too obvious because she turned then, snapped out of her reverie and blinking widely at him from her perch.

"Did you call me, sir?"

There it was—that feeling again. That sudden need to remember how to breathe and how to get his pulse back to normal, to speak in coherent sentences that sounded intelligent and would keep those eyes on him.

To get her close enough to kiss again.

"N-no." The white haired youth stuttered suddenly, looking down at his desk as he waved a dismissive hand at her. "It's nothing."

He could feel her eyes, trying to ignore them as he shuffled things nervously around. He had so many things to do and here he was, having inappropriate thoughts and slacking off, and dear gods above, how long had he been gone? How much time would he lose from his night because of his stupid little stroll?

"Do you need help?" He froze mid-shuffle as his gaze landed on hers, unmoving even when they heard the splashing of a fellow shinigami running for cover with two companions.

"No, you're fine." The captain finally forced himself to say. "Just . . . sit there and relax until the storm dies down. I'm sure Ukitake wouldn't appreciate me sending you back in this weather."

"It's ok, I don't mind it at all. If I'm disturbing you-"

"Just sit down for a while, Rukia, you're not any hindrance, I promise you."

"Okay."

So she did.

For the second time that day Rukia was stopped by the captain of the tenth division. And try as she might, she couldn't find it in her heart to question everything that had happened. Somehow, letting it roll off of her skin like the droplets of rain, soothing and cold as they carried on the breeze seemed like a much better decision to her.

Maybe they were friends . . . maybe they weren't.

The only thing she knew was that for the moment, that didn't matter.

"Thank you. . . Hitsugaya-san." Her back was turned to him so she didn't note how he hesitated in reaction behind her, aquamarine orbs landing on her back and staying there for the longest time in the silence.

Thank you for helping me.

Thank you for being patient with me.

Thank you for letting me sit here and enjoy the rain with you.

"You're welcome." Was the reply from behind her.

She smiled.