Hello, lovelies! I hope you're all doing well!

Here's this week's update-I also included a fluff chapter after Chapter 23!

Enjoy reading!


Chapter 22 (Kumiko)

I stared at the weathered name in the grave. Had it been so long since his death that his gravestone was starting to show signs of time?

"Oh Haku," I sighed and rested my palm against the stone, "The plot only thickens, my friend."

The wind rustled, and I imagined that it was his way of laughing. Setting out my candles and offerings, I rearranged his grave while I chatted away to him.

"Shizuko is doing better—though she isn't resting like she should be. I wish that that child would take a moment to breathe, but she's never been like that. Always running around like her ass is on fire—just like her father, I suppose."

"Your grandson in the Human World is doing just fine—he's seventy now. I think that Akari has baby number five on the way. So he'll be having a lot of grandchildren and even more great-children than you. Not that it was a competition," I paused and started laughing, "Is what you would say. I think I'm getting old, Haku. I speak like a wise, old woman now."

"That's because you are an old woman now."

I turned to see Byakuya walking towards the grave. I raised an eyebrow at him, "Careful what you say, Byakuya. You don't want to piss off your older brother now."

"He can't do anything. The dead remain as such," His words were somber and quiet. He only stared at the gravestone I sat with. Ginrei's had been added next to Haku's, which also beside their father.

I stood up and went to Byakuya's side, "Death always brings me back to this manor. As if I need a constant reminder of all that we have lost."

"Soon, another grave will be added here," He set his offerings for all the Kuchiki graves that lay before us.

I watched him as he did so, "I'm surprised you would have Rukia's gravestone here."

"She's a Kuchiki."

"What if the Elders don't want that." He whipped around and glared at me, "Look at me how you want—but y'know that I'm making a good point. You haven't been exactly vocal about any of their rulings."

"There is hierarchy in a noble clan for a reason. I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Byakuya." He turned back to me and I took a step towards him, "I understand that your position is hard. You have to juggle and balance the politics of this family and all the families associated with the Kuchiki Clan. I know what it's like to feel the force weight of the Elders…but don't you dare feed my daughter to those wolves again."

"I thought we were talking about Rukia." I only glared at him. He looked back at his brother's graves and nodded stiffly, "I won't."

"You better not, or so help me, the Elders won't be who you will worry about," I sighed, "I wanted to thank you though—for helping Shizuko."

He nodded. My fingers twitched and we both turned to the entrance of the cemetery. Shizuko. She was walking up to us, dressed in black. Her eyes were trained on the uneven cobblestones leading up the hill. It hurt to look at her nowadays—my once happy and excitable had become this quiet, phantom.

I glanced up at Byakuya. He was watching her as she trudged up. There was an intensity to his gaze, like he was staring at a painting and not my daughter. I thought it was peculiar but quickly looked away as he met my gaze. By then, Shizuko had climbed to the top and bowed to us.

"Where have you been all day?" I asked as I brought her into my arms. She sunk into me and I wrapped my arms around her tightly.

"Nowhere," She whispered, "But I think I'm ready to go back to work."

I stared at her and looked up at Byakuya. He said nothing and I turned back to Shizuko, "Sweet, you don't have to. Everyone would understand if you took more days off—"

"To do what? Think about my dead husband? Contemplate what's going to happen to me now?" She shook her head and pulled away, "I've moved my belongings back to my apartment in the Rukon. It doesn't feel right to live there anymore—in his house."

"You're the Lady of the House," Byakuya finally interjected, "It's yours."

"Until their Elders decide to put another married couple there. No, I'd rather avoid the drama of it all," She tilted her head back and let out a tired sigh, "There are more important things to worry about right now than the dead."

"Like what?" I asked, "We can do nothing about Rukia until her trial—"

"Not just Rukia."

The way she looked at me was unsettling. It was like she was angry with me, but for what I didn't know. Then I reminded myself that she was grieved with the loss of a dear friend. I was incredibly bitter towards everyone after Haku passed on and losing Kisuke.

"Kuchiki-sama!" A servant bowed deeply to Byakuya, "Sir, a message has been delivered by your lieutenant—"

"Very well," He bowed his head to us and headed away, "You will hear from me soon, Shizuko. Kumiko."

We watched him silently as he headed towards the main house with the servant trailing behind. The sun was setting, casting long and daunting shadows from the gravestones.

"That was ominous," I mumbled. When Shizuko said nothing, I looked at her with a frown, "Do you know what he's talking about?"

"Not a clue," She sighed. She briefly bowed to Haku and Ginrei's graves before trudging down the hill.

I watched her, too, in silence. Something in her attitude didn't sit well with me. Shizuko was a quiet girl, but she wasn't cold—not to me. But I couldn't help but get the distinct impression that she was freezing me out of whatever was going on in her life. It bothered me that she was keeping secrets from me.

I ran a hand through my hair with a frustrated sigh, "Fuck if I know, Haku. I really wasn't cut out for this mothering bullshit after all."

Later when I discussed it over a beer with Ikkaku and Yumichika, they were just as puzzled as I was. They also looked uncomfortable when I asked them to try keep their ears open about it.

"If I wanted to be a rat then I would have joined Squad Two," Yumichika rolled his eyes, "So no."

"You're not a rat if you're helping me help Shizuko," I argued.

This time, Ikkaku sighed, "Fuck that, Kumiko. She's your daughter. Just asked her what's up."

"It's not that easy," I laughed against the lip of the bottle, "Just because I ask doesn't mean she'll tell me. Besides, if she wanted me to know then she would have told me—"

"Exactly—she would have told you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I growled.

Yumichika shrugged, "Maybe you need to take a step back and let her deal with it."

I shook my head but said nothing more. I didn't expect them to understand—hell, I often didn't understand this need I had to know what was going on with Shizuko. It wasn't that I wanted to be controlling or nosy, because I knew just how irritating it was to have a busy body sniffing around business that wasn't their own. But being her mother, I felt that I needed to know so I could help her.

I took another sip but realized that my beer was finished. Raising my hand, a waitress took my bottle and went to get me a new one. I hooked my arm around the back of my chair and studied my hand. Even after so many years, my hand felt so naked without Kisuke's ring…

Maybe this was what it was about. Her father had always been a touchy subject for me and then for her as the years went by. But I couldn't say anything—I wasn't allowed to. And if I could tell her, I still didn't know if it was a great idea. After all the things I had to do to keep us safe, how could she ever look at the same ever again?

"She's going to hate me when she finds out the truth."

I was a liar, a cohort. That I was a murderer.

They looked at me and Ikkaku raised an eyebrow, "You haven't had enough to drink to be soppy."

I looked up at them. They really didn't understand me. No one did—not a single person got me the way he had. He was the one I needed to talk to. Kisuke would know what to do with Shizuko. Kisuke would have known if I was making a wrong choice throughout the years of raising her—and heaven knows that I made plenty.

But the worst one I had made was keeping the truth from her. She was going to find out everything about he had done, and everything I had done. The lies and skeletons had been neatly stored away, but as I was reminded frequently throughout the past years, my daughter had a relentless tenacity to her. It was only a matter of time before she found out everything and that terrified me.

As I took a long swig from my new drink, I shut my eyes. My selfish heart screamed at me to tell her everything—about Kisuke, about the experiments, about Central Forty-Six, and about me. But I couldn't. It would be reckless and put her in jeopardy.

Central Forty-Six had made sure I covered up any trace of the accident that rocked the Seireitei a century ago. But we never found out who was truly guilty of the grotesque that Kisuke had been accused of. If Shizuko knew what I did, it wouldn't just be Central Forty-Six after her.