A/N: OH MY GAWSH, SHE'S ALIVE?
Enjoy and review please!
Mon Cœur S'ouvre à Ta Voix
(My heart opens itself to your voice)
I Can't Find The Words To Say III
Setsuna had, for the most part been able to keep her master's suspicions about the rumors going around to the bare minimum. It wasn't too hard really, consideringRukia barely spoke to anyone outside of her immediate friends and family and so watching her and coaching her through proper etiquette lessons hadn't been too much of a hassle.
The fire had changed things, though.
If there was anything she truly prided herself in, it was her ability to understand the siblings sometimes better than they seemed to know themselves. As such, she'd known about the whole ordeal with the master of the house and had watched him like a hawk whenever possible, of which the payoff had been quite large once she had watched the investigation performed at the scene of the crime.
Thanks to Rukia, the damage had not been nearly as extensive as it could have been. They'd lost about a third of the wing, but for the most part the rest had remained untouched except for the smoke damage—and the only room that had mattered the most wasn't in too bad of a shape either, even though it had clearly been the intended target.
Though no one spoke of it, everyone was shocked when it was confirmed that the fire had been fully intentional. Accompanying that had been a collective sigh of relief once Hisana Kuchiki's chambers had been given an initial once-over. Everyone in the staff knew what that area meant to their employer and knew that there would have been hell to pay if anything happened to it. As it stood though, he was uncharacteristically quiet on the matter—unnervingly so.
That was when Setsuna started getting suspicious.
She had seen Ashido interacting more often with the elder Kuchiki before the fire but the last time was when she had gone back to refresh herself a bit before going back to her vigil over her master in the hospital. Whatever had transpired, the redhead did not say even after mild attempts on her part to pry the secret out of him. Instead she was forced to take the scraps from other servants—whispers here and there as they came to see Rukia.
If what she heard was true, they were past the warning stage. The clan members from before had paid a visit to Byakuya Kuchiki—out of respect of course, because of this new brush with death and wasn't it fortunate that Rukia would be alright, that the wing was alright?
"So fortunate." One of the kitchen helpers said on the third day, all squinted eyes and scorn as she mocked one of the elders, "so fortunate that Rukia-sama was alright this time."
This time.
Setsuna was unaware how much time passed—just that it did sluggishly as the questions hung like a heavy shroud over her companion. Anger simmered in her veins as she thought of the clan's treatment of Rukia, of how much of a tool she'd become in their manipulations of her elder brother. She'd done nothing but try and honor Byakuya, to respect their beliefs, and to stay out of sight like the shameful secret they wanted her to be—and yet here they were.
The petite Shinigami had been placed in a position of which she had no idea, and would probably be offered no way out. Byakuya was not about to let Hisana go—but what Rukia would do for freedom was yet to be seen. She wasn't a creature to take things lying down when she felt wronged, and it was in this aspect of her personality that Setsuna placed all of her hope.
She herself had grown up outside of the sphere of influence of the Kuchiki clan, but rose in ranks once she had been hired thanks to her loyalty to them. Still, it hadn't been until Rukia had come along that she truly felt invested in the happenings of the estate. Before the adoption, the maid had been alright with being merely an obedient spectator.
A deep sigh escaped her as she took Rukia's small hand in her own.
She only wanted what was best for the Shinigami, but she was well aware that the decision was out of her hands. Whatever her master decided, she would be there to support her—of that much she was sure. The only thing that she really hoped was that no matter the choice, the bond that had formed between the adoptive siblings wouldn't be destroyed by the matter. They'd both grown so much, but this . . . this could destroy everything.
There was an uphill battle ahead. Setsuna therefore treated the hospital room as a reprieve—a place of solitude as they all waited for Rukia to come back to her senses. A deep tension was rising with each day she refused to open her eyes, but whether the blue haired woman wanted to encourage her charge to join them in the world of the conscious was a difficult call.
So she just waited.
It was somewhere about midday (fourth? fifth day?) when the elder Kuchiki walked in. His eyes passed over the room, her, and then fell onto his unconscious sibling. The blue haired maid rose silently and bowed, though she knew his attention left her not long after he had entered. Byakuya's acknowledgement of her existence was always obtuse—provided only when he required something of her and usually not direct unless absolutely necessary. When not, she was just another piece of furniture in the room.
"How is she?"
His voice broke the silence, taking her a moment to process that he had addressed her.
"My master is recovering well, or so I'm told. She should wake up anytime now, though she will be weakened for the time being."
The captain didn't react to her statement, though he seldom did in an obvious manner. She measured her words carefully—had been for the last couple of days in her mind. Over and over she had tried to imagine what she would say and his reaction, and now it took her a moment to collect herself and hope that her conclusion was an astute one.
She leaned down to smooth the blanket over Rukia.
"She will find out." Her focus was acute, smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of the blanket to avoid the intense gaze that she knew now fell squarely on her. Fingers worn from years of manual labor passed over the cotton sheets, lingering for a moment over Rukia's arm before being lowered primly. "It would be best if it came from you."
He didn't say anything in reply.
Setsuna could feel his gaze but she didn't flinch as she finally straightened and met the look aimed at her. And though his mouth was closed, the thinned out line of his lips told her that he had heard.
"There's nothing your sister would not consider doing to protect you. As she has placed her trust in you, it would do you both well if you returned that kindness." He regarded her in the silence before his eyes fell to the prone form of his adopted sibling. His hand flinched, stopping before he could clench it into a fist—a flicker of emotional reaction he couldn't suppress fully before the maid had noticed.
The clench of his jaw was notable even as his gaze hardened and the impassible mask fell into place again.
"Send word when she wakes." A soft rustling of his captain's haori, the quick turn of a heel, and the captain dismissed Setsuna once more.
She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, bowing to the retreating form of the captain.
Rangiku Matsumoto stood, mouth fallen open in shock and eyes wider than Ashido thought humanly possible. It had taken her days to find him and then just as much shameless harassment to finally get the truth out of the redhead—but boy was she unprepared for it.
His eyebrows raised lightly in question.
"You're lying to me." Was the first thing she blurted as she came back to herself, jabbing a finger in his direction as she stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "Y-you're. . ."
The redhead shook his head, subtly taking a step back.
Rangiku's hand dropped to her side, baby blue eyes searching his own slate grey ones and finding that no matter how much she tried to see it, she could tell he wasn't lying. It started clicking together—everything that she knew knew was funny about the Kuchikis lately and suddenly she couldn't contain it in anymore—
She screamed.
Her arms were flailing and she was talking a mile a minute and really, he didn't know a chest could defy physics like that with all her bouncing he really shouldn't be staring at her but honestly if she was going to act like this and why was she acting like this she should be worried—
"You're. . . happy about this?" Her excitement hit him like a whirlwind as she slammed her hands down to clamp painfully on his shoulders, shaking him as she laughed giddily.
"This is such a fairy tale, don't you get it? Oh my GOD—"
"But you can't tell anyone." He emphasized, the warning clear on his features. "As it stands, I wasn't even supposed to tell you but-"
"Oh, you love me, everyone knows that. Can't resist my charms. " Giggling, she punched him in the shoulder and ignored the wince that accompanied the diverted gaze and pink cheeks.
"M-matsumoto—"
"He's going to crack, I know it. It's only a matter of time." Ashido's brow furrowed in question. His friend was so hard to keep up with sometimes that he almost felt whiplashed from subject to subject. But they'd gotten used to each other's presence enough that Rangiku continued on her vocal thought process, pacing.
"My captain is stubborn, so he's not going to go down easily."
"Gives Rukia's brother time to become accustomed to the idea." He chimed in. "As it stands, if he finds a better suitor, he won't bother with your captain."
Snorting, the buxome blonde turned to him. "Well then, I wish him good luck because let me tell you, I've seen those two looking at each other. She's made him capable of things that I never in my life thought I would ever see him do. And you know what the funny part is? He doesn't even realize he's doing it until it's too late to change his mind."
"But do you think that it's enough for a marriage though? I mean. . . you said it yourself once that I was being hasty in such a judgment." A slight frown marred her features as she pondered, sighing before resigning herself to a shrug.
"I can't really say, you know? I mean, knowing what I do of Kuchiki-san, I'd say that they have a huge amount of potential. Granted, that shouldn't mean much, but. . . if nothing else, this could be mutually beneficial in that they can have someone to anchor them—a really really close friend." A grin started appearing on her face before it faded. "It takes a lot you know, to trust someone enough to be able to close your eyes around them."
Ashido watched, catching the flash of sadness that welled in her gaze before she shrugged, a small, almost forced smile taking over.
"Who knows?"
Well, he certainly didn't.
"They've already fought together—in fact, Kuchiki-san has believed in him, fought by his side even, when he needed it. And Hitsugaya-taichou, well, he's hard to handle at times. There aren't that many people willing to come to his aid as more than just comrades when he's in a tight bind. That doesn't mean I don't think it will come without its doubts though."
Ichigo. Renji. And in her own way, Momo. All major parts of the ice wielders' hearts. If love wasn't something that fully flourished for the two, their past still provided doors that hadn't fully locked and could break whatever tenuous bond had already formed.
If there was ever a time Matsumoto wished she could help her captain come to terms with the repercussions of the war, this was it. She just hoped Rukia would be able to do the same.
"I haven't known them for as long as you, but I trust your judgement." Ashido said, breaking her of her thoughts. "All I know is that in the end, it is their decision. I just hope they both give it enough thought and reach a mutual conclusion. The clan isn't happy with the current 'unstable' state of affairs but that does not mean the decision should be rushed. I don't know what'll happen, but I owe Kuchiki-san a great debt for saving me both during and after the war and I intend to repay that debt by helping in any way that I can."
The buxom blonde smiled then, warmth lighting up her gaze as she stepped closer to him.
"Kuchiki-san is very lucky to have a friend like you." Ashido watched as her gaze left him, avoiding him as she turned away. "Be careful or I might get jealous."
Floored by her statement, he couldn't even reply as she grinned brightly over one shoulder before leaving. If his futile resistance to the vice-captain was any indication, he might want to know what it took to get her to be able to say that one day she would be able to 'close her eyes around him.'
. . . but was he ready for that?
It wasn't until day eight that Rukia finally awoke.
She was a wreck in every sense of the word—nauseous, weak as a newborn, and pale. The weakest of lights stung her eyes for the first few hours, and the dryness of her throat left her rasping for breath even after practically inhaling whatever water was given to her (before promptly being reacquainted with it). Unohana swept in at some point (or so Rukia thought) and in fragments told her that this was all due to the lucky combination of reiatsu exhaustion, smoke inhalation, and emotional duress—at which point Rukia pretended not to understand the implication.
Thankfully she was left alone to contemplate everything without further prodding for the moment, though there was a direct promise of further enquiry later which Rukia cringingly acknowledged.
By day nine she could sort of pass herself off as human (or so she thought) and managed to sit up by herself without looking like a drunk.
Being awake was victory enough she figured, though the same could not be said for her memory of the fire. It was spotty, snippets hastily cobbled together in the recesses of her mind. To her chagrin, all of them included the captain of the tenth division.
His voice in the dark, the way his skin glowed in the firelight, the rush of power as he guided her home. It was a distant dream in fragments until her eyes met his. The cerulean glitter of his gaze sent chills through her now, repeatedly, as she tried both to shove the memory away and keep it selfishly close to her heart.
She tried in vain to not think about it, though that didn't last for very long.
After having been informed of the state of her home, her next vocalization had been for his safety, much to Setsuna's frustration. Though why, Rukia could not fathom.
"He is fine." Was the clipped reply.
Maybe something had happened while she was out? Rukia hoped not. She would've questioned Setsuna further if she had been given the chance. Instead she was interrupted by the telltale click of the doorknob turning. Sitting up slowly, she tried to straighten as much as she could and smoothed the covers over her lap as her brother stepped into the room. There was a flash of surprise over his features as their eyes met—she guessed news that she was awake had not made it to him before he had reached the hospital.
Rukia tried not to be too self-conscious of her state, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before meeting his gaze again.
"How do you feel?" Gray eyes roamed over her features in scrutiny, but Rukia tried to encourage him with a crooked grin.
"I've been worse." Was the weary reply.
Her smile faded into a look of mild concern as he seemed to pause and his eyes slipped away from her. The confusion was evident as her brow furrowed, hands primly in her lap as she waited for him to say something.
Though he was a man of few words, rare was the moment when he didn't have them concisely delivered and it took her a second to see that this was actually one of those unusual times. He had yet to say something—and not for lack of trying. She'd learned to read the silences between them, being all too familiar with the nuances. There was something there between them but for the life of her, the petite Shinigami could not even begin to fathom what it could be.
She attempted to stay composed even though she felt she had no hope of understanding the strange situation she was suddenly in, grasping at straws in her already exhausted mind.
Maybe he felt bad that she had run into the fire to protect Hisana's room? Honestly he shouldn't. It was a decision she had made herself in a split second and there had been no hesitation. Given the chance, she would have run in just as urgently again.
"I really feel ok. My body is exhausted, but mentally I'm fine." She tried to reassure him. "I'll be back to normal in a few days, and Setsuna already told me that the damage isn't that bad. I'm really relieved to hear that."
Again they fell into silence. Violet eyes rose hesitantly, unsure what to expect. Byakuya regarded her but was still quiet.
Wait. . . was he angry?
A moment of panic as the thought flashed in Rukia's mind and she looked away. What if he was angry that she had run in? It was after all, a blatant act of insanity and arguably, disobedience (which would probably raise the most uproar, let's be honest).
"I know that I shouldn't have run in so irresponsibly," She began, trying to piece together something reasonable to say, "but if I hadn't done something-"
"What you did was reckless." Rukia flinched but offered no retort. She refused to be sorry for protecting something they both knew was sacred to him. At the same time, she wasn't going to fight him on it either. The exhaustion that seeped down into her very bones knocked the fight pretty much out of her, but she refused to yield that much at least.
"Hisana means too much for you to lose her like that. I couldn't let-"
"Leave us." Rukia startled, took a moment to gather that he was speaking to Setsuna. And though just as surprised as her charge, after exchanging a look of which the petite Shinigami could not decipher, the blue haired maid clasped her hands and bowed gracefully before brushing past the siblings without another word.
"You have a lot to learn." Byakuya began as soon as the door had closed behind Setsuna. His voice had not risen at all but she could feel his reproach. Clenching her jaw, she tried to keep herself from responding. She felt so weak in that bed, unable to put up much of a fight since the only thing her frustration would amount to was her own lack of energy. "I've tried to have you as far away from everything as possible but I can no longer keep you from knowing the full extent of what is going on around you."
Naïve. Again with her being naïve.
She couldn't help it then, the frustration and exhaustion wove themselves into her voice as she snapped, "Well if you would tell me things earlier, maybe I wouldn't always be in the dark until you can no longer contain something yourself."
Her mouth closed with an audible click, violet eyes flashing her horror momentarily at having spoken back but she didn't apologize. Instead she only looked down at the clenched fists in her lap, trying not to lose what little frayed patience she had. It took him so long to really open up to her at all, to let her see exactly how extensive his love for Hisana had been, and now when she felt they had been at their strongest he was regressing to the brother that made her feel nothing short of foolish.
He seemed to debate momentarily how best to reply. Still, the moment of hesitation was gone as quickly as it came, his eyes becoming pools of flat, grey expanse and any semblance of warmth leaving his features in such a smooth slipping into the shoes of the Kuchiki clan leader that it left Rukia reeling. There was a knot twisting in her stomach as her fists tightened, unconsciously bracing herself.
"That fire was a warning."
The smooth notes of his voice were detached—matter of fact, as if he was simply telling her that it was raining. The intonation she had not heard since the war wrapped itself like a noose of dread around her throat.
Since Ichimaru had nearly killed him. . . that was the last time she'd heard this tone.
"Rukia . . ." He continued. Her mind screamed at her to stop him—that whatever he was about to say was something he wouldn't be able to take back. It was as if they were hurtling towards a precipice that she'd only just learned to see, looming behind him and laced in the flat inflection of his voice.
"I need your help."
. . . oh.
Matsumoto was staring at him.
Usually there would be at least a half-hearted attempt to be subtle if it was some delicate matter—and if not, a full-frontal attack until the information she sought was relinquished. In this case he had no idea what could possibly be feeding that intense gaze that would surely burn a hole in his skull.
It was as if she was trying to read his mind forcibly.
It was unnerving.
Finally, he sighed heavily before putting down his pen.
"What is it?" The buxom blonde froze, her gaze skidding away awkwardly without a word.
Hitsugaya frowned.
"If you've got something to say, just say it." She seemed to consider it, weighing something in her mind for a moment before sliding her chair out and walking past his desk for the kitchen with a quick gesture of her finger to indicate for him to give her a second.
Frowning in confusion, the white haired captain shook his head. He didn't know whether knowing or not would be better. There was nothing that came to mind, even from offhanded remarks she had made in the last few days, and so he decided to just let it go. A mild stab of guilt went through him even as he tried not to think about how he'd ignored the last time she had been upset. Still, logic and past experience told him that she'd tell him in her own time, he guessed.
Determining this, the captain picked up his pen and was trying to find where he had left off on the report. He was just beginning to get back into the swing of his writing when a cup of tea was placed in front of him and, to his annoyance, on top of the report he was working on.
Cerulean eyes rose slowly to hers and he was about to retort with a chastising comment but the words died in his throat at the strange look on her features. She looked. . . not necessarily crestfallen but she wasn't in her usual energetic manner either. It unnerved him, making his stomach clench.
He hadn't seen her look like this since. . . Gin.
She had always tried to hide her more thoughtful, judicious moments, usually lacing them with humor or wit that drew people away from her true statement. But here she was, setting a tray of tea on the coffee table before her and beckoning him to sit with her in a manner completely lacking of her cheery snark.
Too distracted by her strange behavior to continue, Hitsugaya sighed before picking up his mug carefully and rising to go sit across from her on the couch.
"Ne, Hitsugaya-taichou, what are you going to do when you get married? You spend so many nights in the office that you practically live here." He scowled at her over the rim of his mug as he took a testing sip of the tea.
"My personal life is none of your concern—and besides, marriage isn't something I'm going to be considering anytime soon." Baby blue eyes regarded him with some amusement then, though Matsumoto didn't bother to voice whatever she was thinking on the matter. Instead she shrugged halfheartedly, sighing.
"You should never assume you know the future so easily."
Cryptic.
She was up to something.
"What happened during the fire, by the way? I've heard more from the rumors around Sereitei than from you."
Toushiro shrugged, elbows coming to rest on his knees as he leaned forward.
"It was a fire. There's not much else to tell." He skirted.
His vice-captain was silent for a moment before saying, "Kuchiki-san woke up this morning."
At this remark he finally turned towards her. "She did?"
Matsumoto nodded.
"You should go see her."
"I have nothing to discuss with her." He said, turning his attention back to the tea.
The nights were cooling lately, summer having somehow passing them and giving way to beginning signs of fall. Being stuck at the office late on one such night made him appreciate the mug cradled in his grasp as he replied, "I was just there at the wrong moment."
The buxom blonde snorted. "You seem to like doing that. You two have been through quite a lot together recently, don't you think?"
No actually, he hadn't.
In that moment as he really thought about everything that had transpired since their shared mission, he couldn't remember when was the last time where his days had taken to something more normal.
In fact, he was actively trying to avoid it. Acknowledging something like that would mean being aware of how many things he'd messed up and how many he still had yet to face from before. Or how many new things he had yet to understand about himself—including Rukia's influence on him.
"Rukia just seems to be attracted to trouble." The captain replied, grimacing as he distractedly took a sip of his tea.
"And you're not too far behind, if everything that's happened is taken into consideration."
He regarded her over the edge of the mug, sipping slowly.
"Things just sort of. . . happened that way."
Matsumoto gave a scoff but said nothing.
His gaze narrowed suspiciously. "Why, what's going on? This isn't like you at all."
Toushiro found with some surprise that she wasn't budging. Instead, Rangiku met his stare head-on with a shrug.
"Just thoughts, you know? You work so much, jeez, just take a moment to breathe with me."
"You're usually too busy running away from your responsibilities to deserve a break."
"Don't make me want to give you old tea next time."
His brows rose mockingly to his hairline. "There's a next time? That implies you're going to be here to earn it."
Matsumoto couldn't resist rolling her eyes—a habit she knew he hated. "Funny. Still, you should go see her."
Honestly, Hitsugaya needed to.
But he wasn't about to tell his nosy vice-captain that.
"I doubt I'd be missed much." He said instead, placing his empty mug on the tray between them.
"She cares for you, you know." The buxom blonde said offhandedly as he got up. And if she hadn't been watching him, Rangiku knew she would've missed the slight misstep he took before straightening. "She asked me about you this afternoon."
"I'm sure you told her all sorts of nonsense in response." Snapped her captain as he headed towards his desk.
He'd be dead before admitting that he was dying to know what Rukia was thinking and if she had been told by the captain of the fourth division about their. . . situation.
Rangiku sighed, knowing that for the moment she was defeated. Nonetheless she sat, pouring herself another mug leisurely and settling back onto the couch in deep thought.
It wasn't that she was trying to push the two together or anything. She was ecstatic of the idea, but mostly for her it was the fact that Toushiro Hitsugaya was making the choice himself. Now whether he was fully aware of what was going on, who knew? At times she thought he was much more self-aware than he let on, and yet at others it seemed to fly over his head. Knowing his personality, any straight up questioning would end in him not only shutting her out, but maybe even shutting down. No one knew the full extent of the damage Momo had left in her wake in his mind—he'd never let anyone know. The closest they'd come to understanding that had actually been when their target had taken on her form to try and undermine his confidence.
A sigh escaped her.
There was so much she wished she could council her captain on, but the white haired youth was obstinate as ever—heartless even, in the face of necessity to keep going. But with everything (mostly) at peace, it wasn't hard for those forcefully hidden roots to sprout cracks in the façade he put on before them. Whatever happened she would be there for him, but it would be great if he actually allowed her to help him.
Ugh.
She managed to stay that way for ten more minutes, ruminating over the sheer stubbornness of her captain before he finally threatened her back to working—a record if she ever noted one.
She was pacing.
Well, more like wobbling around the room.
There was stumbling at times and lots of Setsuna trying not to follow her master as the petite Shinigami tried to pace the small length of the room. The maid's arms twitched at her sides in resistance even as violet eyes rose to hers and warned her to stay away.
She was angry.
No, Rukia Kuchiki was furious.
The temperature of the room fluctuated, but Setsuna stood still in the impending storm, respecting her charge's wishes as best she could. There really was not very much she could do honestly, but listen.
Unfortunately, all Rukia wanted to do was break something. Or fortunately?
Sode no Shirayuki was safely tucked away in her brother's possession for the time being, but still.
Byakuya had, in true Byakuya fashion, told her everything all at once and allowed her no chance to really react to any of it. He'd told her to think it over before calmly leaving the room as if he'd just announced a dinner party—or so Rukia had told Setsuna upon her return.
"—like I'm supposed to just accept what they're demanding?! What, I don't get a choice?" A misstep and Rukia's arm flew out in time to grab the bedpost before lowering herself onto the edge of the bed with a huff. Her breaths were heavy—it had only been three days since she'd awoken—but she tried her best to hide the wave of dizziness that hit her.
The trembling that went through her frame was intense enough that she couldn't hide it from the maid, who sighed softly before pulling a blanket to wrap around her master's shoulders.
"You need to calm down or I might have to ask for a sedative. You're not going to heal properly if you're this agitated."
Instantly the wrath of violet eyes was locked on her. "I'm fine." She snapped, her knuckles white against the fistful of blanket she was holding around herself.
Setsuna sighed but chose not to reply. What could she say? Besides, she was well aware that it was the frustration talking. Rukia was suddenly backed in a corner she had only minutely been aware existed even a week ago.
But then the petite shinigami's shoulders slumped and it seemed as if the fight went out of her all at once, leaving only a deep exhaustion in its place. Her gaze lowered, dark bangs sliding down to hide her face as she said more quietly, "He wouldn't have told me if it weren't for the fire, would he, Setsuna? He wouldn't. . ."
Setsuna wished she could've assured her charge that her brother would've been honest given the chance—but she didn't have the heart to lie. She knew the elder Kuchiki had meant well by shielding Rukia from the mess the elders were stirring up, but that he got cornered into the decision (more like action) of bringing the idea of a suitor into the open. Sure, there had been rumors, but Rukia's blind faith in her brother had been their saving grace.
And now it would be the strain on their relationship as the ground shifted beneath her.
"He wanted to protect you."
The glass of water on the nightstand behind them barely clinked a warning as the glass tried to resist the sudden expansion of the water it held. Only a second after, they heard the telltale shatter as the water crystallized into ice and sent shards scattering near the nightstand.
Setsuna sighed.
"Setsuna, please go ask for something to clean this up with." The young woman hesitated. Her mouth opened as if to form words, but they died in her throat as she changed her mind and silently headed for the door.
Rukia sat unmoving on the edge of the bed as she heard the door click closed.
Toushiro did everything in his power to stay away from the hospital for the first few days he'd heard Rukia had been awake. But finally he couldn't keep himself from giving in, curious to see if Unohana had done good on her promise and the young Kuchiki had been given the news.
The hospital was not as busy as he'd thought it would be for once and he took it as a blessing. Usually his visits were met with pitying side glances and sad smiles, leaving him stewing in his anger by the time he reached Momo's quarters. Today he turned in the opposite direction, finding Rukia's room easily enough thanks to the maid that was closing the door down the hall.
Brown eyes rose and widened as he walked purposefully towards her.
"Now is not a good time." The captain knew the reason she didn't snap at him was thanks to her impeccable training. Still, the bite was obvious in her voice as she stood firmly before the door. "She's-"
"Look. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. Let me speak to her."
"Rukia-sama-"
"Has an important decision to make." He interjected, scowling. "It's imperative that I speak to her about it."
This seemed to shock the maid into silence for a moment.
Had Byakuya told the tenth division captain about what was going on? And what exactly did this mean? Was the white haired captain meant to be Rukia's suitor? Her indignation suddenly flared for her master. How was it that the tenth division captain had been made aware of the situation before her master?
Setsuna tried to swallow her anger as her finger's curled around the doorknob.
"Do be mindful." The door clicked open and she gave it a gentle push, breaking away from her glare and sticking her head in to murmur something. A moment of hesitation followed and though he didn't hear what she said, Toushiro noted the exhaustion in Rukia's voice.
Setsuna then fully opened the door and gestured him in before bowing and seeing herself out.
The white haired captain looked towards the figure with her back to him crouched on the floor. There was glass scattered at her feet, he noted as he came closer, and her fingers were wet as she tried to wordlessly pile the shards she could find.
Unsure of what to say now that he had her in front of him, Toushiro hesitated for a moment before joining her on the floor and picking up a shard she had missed.
He hadn't really thought far enough into what was going to be said—which was strange for him. It was a major decision and yet he couldn't bring himself to really address it. In a way it would be something that no matter what decision was made, would always join them in a way no one else would ever truly understand and he hadn't really wrapped his mind around that yet. A zanpaktou and its' world were sacred, intimate places dwelt in only by their chosen partner and knowing that they could trespass into each other's left him dizzy with the thought.
"Thank you for visiting me." Rukia said after a moment, giving him a small, tired smile. He shrugged.
"How are you feeling?" The petite Shinigami ran her fingers lightly over the melting ice, feeling for bits of glass she might've missed. She seemed about to say something as her fingertips failed to alert her to further glass on the floor before thinking better of it and mirroring his shrug from before.
"Not that bad anymore. I'm hoping to get out of here soon."
She glanced at him, watching how his cerulean eyes passed scrutiny over the growing puddle on the floor and their pile of glass. His brow was furrowed, as it always seemed to be when he was deep in thought, and she knew then he was well aware of how her glass of water had broken.
Nonetheless, he didn't say anything.
Clinging to the hope he wouldn't ask further questions, Rukia began putting the shards carefully in her cupped hand to dump into the trash bin in the corner of the room before flinching and dropping the piece she had tried to pick up.
She frowned as blood welled up in a thin line along her fingertip.
A sigh from beside her and then warm, calloused hands gently took her own. She tried not to blush as Toushiro ran his fingertips lightly over her pale skin, the heat from his wordless healing spell sending a shiver down her spine.
"Thanks." She said, trying not to pay attention to how breathless she sounded.
"It's nothing." He said evenly, getting up. Picking up the bin, he brought it and placed it beside her. Rukia tipped her hand, listening to the clink of the heavy fragments as they fell in and wiping her wet hands on her white hospital robes.
"So what brings you here, Hitsugaya-san?" She tried to ask evenly.
Though moved by the fact that he'd come to visit her, there were things she desperately needed to think over—things that were clouding any possible semblance of sanity and the distraction of his hands on hers was too much to deal with, let alone anything else he might say or do.
The confusion was already overbearing as it was but there was suddenly a small, urgent revelation in her mind that this something between them—the thing that she had slowly come to hope she would one day understand—she now might lose to the clan's demands. They were nothing without their traditional ways, and if she were to choose . . . marriage. . .
Marriage.
The word was so foreign in her mind.
It derailed her thoughts, disintegrating them like sand castles lost to the sea.
Still, the gaze of the man before her, ever steady, drew her back. Would she lose this then? The tenuous bond that was being woven between them?
The thought made her heart ache more than she cared to acknowledge.
"Why did you return?" The words he had used on the day of the fire came back to her and Rukia thought it ironic.
Same question on two different sides of that same event.
"Has Unohana spoken to you yet?" She nodded, snapping out of her thoughts.
"It was only a brief checkup but yes, she has. She said we would speak fully once I was more recovered, so I think she might come looking for me soon."
Violet eyes caught the furrowing of his brow again.
"Is there something wrong?"
"No, nothing like that." He reassured once he saw the worry bracing her shoulders. "It's just . . . it would be better coming from her since she understands the situation better."
Rukia wondered for a moment if it had something to do with the fire and how it started. If so, what news about it did the fourth division captain find it necessary to protect her from until now? The betrothal?
Little late for that.
But how did the tenth division captain know about it? Surely news couldn't have gotten around about it that fast, right? Maybe the healer had intended to keep her from finding out so bluntly but Byakuya had beaten her to the punch?
"It's nothing urgent." Toushiro assured, features impassive against her inquisitive gaze. She settled into the middle of the bed as he went to the wall by her bedside and leaned against it, arms crossing. "But I would suggest not to make any rash decisions and think about what consequences your actions will bring about."
Her hands immediately clenched into fists and for a moment Toushiro expected something else in the room to shatter. Instead her jaw clenched much in the same way he'd seen the elder Kuchiki do in meetings where he clearly disapproved or was holding back.
"I'll make sure to see her today, then." She muttered.
Toushiro didn't know what exactly Unohana had said, but he knew well enough that between that and everything happening in the Kuchiki household, being stuck in bed was probably the last thing she wanted to do. Rukia was a woman of action and holding her to the room was probably like caging a lion.
Judging by how she was reacting to him though, she probably didn't know about the Futagoza decision. Maybe Unohana had briefly mentioned what she had told him? Or maybe not. Who knew? Either way, seeing her in such a state after everything that had happened induced a sense of duty that he couldn't ignore, to reassure her.
"Rukia?" She looked up at the sound of her name, caught off guard. Wide, violet eyes met cerulean and she was momentarily left breathless by the sudden sincerity in the captain's features. He looked so gentle in that moment and she wondered how his smile would affect her if his current look sent her heart into a state.
She waited for him to continue, unsure of whether she should encourage him—and frankly quite unable to. Her hands betrayed her anxiety in the silence, fidgeting with the edge of the blankets. Noticing this, Toushiro sighed, and without thinking walked over and laid his hand atop her own to stop the movement.
She froze.
There was a sudden silence that fell between them, the warmth of his fingers on her reminding her that she wasn't dreaming. But it didn't take long for her curiosity to take over and Rukia looked up at Toushiro, wondered what thoughts were racing in his mind as he struggled to voice them. For a second it seemed that he searched her eyes when their gazes met and whatever he found gave him the resolution to finally speak.
"No matter your choice," The white haired captain began again in a near whisper, his gaze lowering to avoid hers in a sudden bout of shyness, "I trust your decision."
His eyes rose slowly to meet hers and it took the petite Shinigami a moment to let his words sink in. When they did she blushed, looking away as she tried to hide the smile that rose as she slowly nodded.
There was no plan—not a single inkling of an idea of which path she should take. But since when had she ever really had a plan? Thoughts of the future were overwhelmingly alarming as of late—but being there, his words wrapping her mind reassuringly, Rukia couldn't find it in her to really want to panic. She'd have to think with her head way more than her heart, but she could be logical when she needed to.
She needed to channel the rational and cunning of the man before her—to once again make him her anchor. Somehow even that small notion of guidance was enough to soothe her mind for the time being.
"We can do this." Sode no Shirayuki's voice whispered with determination in her mind.
"Thank you, Hitsugaya-san." Rukia said then, hoping her sincerity rang true.
A slight upturning of his lips and Toushiro nodded in satisfaction, taking his hand away. The petite Shinigami immediately missed his warmth, but offered no protest.
"Get out of that bed soon. It's not like you to stay down this long."
And before she could reply anything, Toushiro turned on a heel and offered a small wave over one shoulder before striding quickly out the door.
