h3 class="landmark heading" style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: 400; font-size: 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; line-height: 0; opacity: 0; height: 0px; clear: both; color: transparent; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"Chapter Managemen/h3
div class="userstuff module" style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; width: 946.46875px; float: none; word-wrap: break-word; color: #2a2a2a; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"
h3 id="work" class="landmark heading" style="border-width: 0px 0px 0.25em; border-bottom-style: double; border-bottom-color: #333333; outline: 0px; font-weight: 500; font-style: inherit; font-size: 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0.125em; line-height: 0; opacity: 0; height: 0px; clear: both; color: transparent;"Chapter Text/h3
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"Archie, they're asking if they can send the girl herebr /It seems they found an old will naming you as Mary's guardianbr /This is no house for a childbr /I couldn't agree more/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The letter arrived much later than the news it carried deserved and the smallest part of Byakuya was furious it hadn't arrived sooner. But that tiny fraction of his brain was near immediately taken over by the sadness that had coated his thoughts for several years now, only intensified by this newest tragedy. His grandparents, his parents, his wife, and now his brother and sister-in-law, not to mention all of their friends. Really, this cholera was worse than a war when it came to the touch of death. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Yet at the same time he almost wished the cholera had done its job and taken the entire party. This girl, his niece, she was in for a world of pain for the rest of her life. Forever would she have the memory of waking up to a house where her entire family was dead. He wouldn't have been surprised if she never slept again. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The letter was written in quite callous form, reporting the deaths to the other living relative and informing him as to the existence of the girl. His intimate knowledge of heartbreak and the shocking heartlessness of the lawyer who wrote the letter left him in quite the uncomfortable situation. He wanted to be able to turn the girl over to someone else, someone with the experience in raising a child, and, if he was honest with himself, the emotional stability to help her through this hard time. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Eyes pierced into his back, as they had through all of his lonely years, so he turned to the waiting eyes of his wife, staring out of the gilded wall frame. Those violet orbs would haunt his dreams always and, if the servants were to be believed, the house as well./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"Well, we shall simple have to find an appropriate school and-br /No, the girl is Lily's niece. She will come /And Mrs. Medlock, order the child some clothesbr /I won't have her dressed in blackbr /Wandering about like a lost soulbr /That would make the house even sadder than it is/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" His wife had been the kindest soul he knew, caring for anything injured or hurt, until, in her care, she neglected herself. She would have wanted him to take the girl. He met her gaze, calling out from his heart: /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The house was so far away from a school. He could hire a tutor. It was secluded and boring. The grounds were large enough and the hallways dark enough to invoke the fancy of any little girl. He couldn't raise a child. Of course he could, she had always believed he would. But he didn't. But he will. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" And so Byakuya turned from Hisana's belief, hoping some of it lingered in his heart as he set the fountain pen to stationary and sealed it with his wax crest. He'd send the housekeeper for the girl. Maybe a woman's presence at the house would make it less scary to little Rukia. Rukia. What a beautiful name for such a broken girl./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"Mary Lennox, I'm your uncle's housekeeperbr /I suppose you'd like to know somewhat about where you're goingbr /Would I?br /Well don't you care about your new home thembr /It doesn't matter if I care or notbr /Now in all my years br /I have never seen a child sit so still br /Or look so old/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Rukia stepped onto the platform with trepidation, her suitcase clunking down the metal steps of the chassis with her. The man and woman who had brought her, they of the sharp eyes and reams of paper to sign, leaned off the side to wave her goodbye, tears Rukia knew were fake gleaming in the woman's eyes. It would have hurt, to know they didn't care that her family was dead, if she hadn't already been so hurt one more bit was a pebble on the mountain. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" She sat up straight on the station bench in front of her as she had been taught, trying to not look around. None of the faces were familiar to her, people in long brown trenchcoats that had all been dyed by the rain to same nondescript shade, blurring as they passed her. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" She concentrated her eyes on their feet, no matter how high her head was lifted. She was an exercise in contrast, hands folded like a lady but her bags stacked next to her so she could take up the least amount of space available on the bench. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The feet kept moving, flats and short heels and saddle shoes all alike. Then one pair of ladies walking shoes stopped in front of her. These shoes stood out from the group as they were still a dark black, not spattered with mud. They had ornate but not flashy gold buckles that held straps over the top of the woman's foot. Rukia looked up into the weather-beaten face of the person before her. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The woman was midway between thick and thin, the dress hanging off her like it too couldn't decide what size she was. Her hat was brown, like the dress, but black velvet on the inside and tied from the top to under her chin with a transparent white ribbon. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Rukia opened her mouth to speak but the woman cut her off, introducing herself as Mrs. Medlock, Rukia's uncle's housekeeper. Rukia stood, wincing as the displacement of her body caused her stack of bags to slump over on the bench. She held out her hand and shook Mrs. Medlock's. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" "Hello. I am Rukia." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" She couldn't get her last name out, it was too close a reminder of her parents. Mrs. Medlock didn't even spare the pause a glance. She beckoned Rukia up. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Rukia rushed to gather her bags then hurried after Mrs. Medlock, who had already taken off. She knew there was kindness in the housekeeper, but she wasn't going to get it today. Mrs. Medlock was representing her employer, and from the little Rukia had heard about her uncle, he wasn't one for kindness or much emotion of any kind. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Yet once they were in a carriage, heading out over the wailing moors, Mrs. Medlock asked Rukia if she wanted to know anything about her uncle's estate. Rukia shook her head. She already knew all she needed to. It was large, it was hidden away, and it was barely used. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" She dreaded her upcoming days there, sure the house would feel as empty as it did when she woke up in a house of the dead. The men from the army had covered her eyes and taken her out through the closest door, but she couldn't avoid the smell, and the feeling that all the light had been sucked from the place./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"High on a hill sits a big old housebr /With something wrong inside itbr /Spirits haunt the hallsbr /And make no effort now to hide it/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"What will put their souls to restbr /And stop their ceaseless sighingbr /Why do they call out children's names and speakbr /Of one, who's crying/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"Well you're right not to carebr /Your uncle certainly isn't going to trouble himself about you/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"And the master hears the whispersbr /On the stairways dark and stillbr /And the spirits speak of secretsbr /In the house upon the hill/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Byakuya spent little time worrying about that morning, despite what lesser men would have seen as a momentous occasion arriving that afternoon. A little girl did not warrant any celebration, especially one who would only prove to be a detriment to his work. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" A voice in the back of his head, sounding suspiciously like the woman he refused to think about, questioned the nature of his work. There was indeed work to be done, distant foreign investments he handled along with payment of the staff and upkeep of the grounds but, said the little voice, what was the use of worrying about working several years in advance? /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" When one had little to do there was nothing to do but sneak in on your own future, stealing future occupation for your current self, leaving the stricken specter of your future lying on the floor, bored to death. If Byakuya ceased to keep stealing time from himself, he would be left with nothing to do but walk the halls, holding back the desire to wail like the wind when it shook the gilded frame of her portrait. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" He heard the wailing all through the house, no matter whether he was near the portrait or not. It whistled down the back stairs, up through the maroon carpet of his office, and between the sheets of his bed, shoved into the corner of his room as if slamming one of its sides against the wall would make it seem smaller than it was, less obviously meant for two people./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"He's a hunchback you seebr /And a sour young man he wasbr /And got no good of all his money and big plays 'til he were marriedbr /To my Aunt Lily?/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"She were a sweet pretty thingbr /And he'd have walked the world overbr /To get her a blade of grass that she wantedbr /When she diedbr /It made him worse than ever/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"High on a hill sits a big old housebr /With something wrong inside itbr /Someone diedbr /And someone's left alone and can't abide it/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"There in the house is a lonely manbr /Still haunted by her beautybr /Asking what a life can be when naughtbr /Remains but duty/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" He hoped the girl would be unrecognizable. That the one time he'd seen a photo from her childhood would be a lie, that she'd grown tall and blonde, obnoxious and long haired, that she'd be in any way different, have become anything, but short, raven haired, and with shining purple eyes. Those shining purple eyes that haunted his dreams, that shone down from the portraits and whose voice sang through the halls, mixed in between the the shrill notes of the wails, overtones he could almost manage to ignore. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Even thinking of Hisana's name brought back every note of agony he'd felt with her death. The few people who did contact him that far out in the moor hid their concerns in falsely sweet words that summed up to be an accusation of stubbornness, of an unwillingness to forget the love of his life. Only he knew the truth. That he was trying every day to get over it, to forget her, and that was why he lived so alone and why he was always working, always early, always busy. The moment he stopped, all of the pain came back, so he reasoned that if he worked hard enough, ran far enough, someday he'd reach the closure their letters all teased him with./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"br /Is it always so ugly here?br /It's the moorbr /Miles and miles of wild landbr /That nothing grows on br /But heather and gorsebr /And nothing lives onbr /But wild ponies and sheep/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"But what is that awful howling soundbr /That's the wind, blowing through the bushesbr /They call it wuthering, that soundbr /But look there, that tiny light far across therebr /That'll be the gate it will/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="left" The carriage rattled to a halt when the slowly crumbling cobblestone road they were on gave way to mush made worse by the wind whipping around the light rain that had begun in the middle of the trip. Rukia felt pained to step out into it, especially in her best shoes, but Mrs. Medlock only greeted the mess with a small hmph before flinging the door open and ignoring the hand the driver offered her. Instead she slapped down a few bills into his hand, heedless of the rain that may have been landing on them. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="left" Rukia expected him to be disgruntled but he merely nodded and got back to his front seat, eyes darting back and forth, sweeping the moor as smoothly as the bent backs of the reeds that covered the endless expanse. He saw something in the distance and flinched, then thrust the bags into Rukia's overloaded hands and turned on his heel. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="left" Over her burden Rukia squinted in the same direction and spotted a tiny light, surely several long, wet miles away. Mrs. Medlock saw her glance and jerked her head towards the light, setting off on a path only she could see, the wet reeds leaving long dark stripes on her brown stockings. They were so dark Rukia almost mistook them from dried bloodstains. She swallowed her disgust and the sudden death smell that had risen in her nostrils./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"And the master hears the whispersbr /On the stairways dark and stillbr /And the spirits speak of secretsbr /In the house upon the hill/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The house itself rose out of the mist as though it had crept up on Rukia. There was nothing but a glinting gate, made of iron and dark, cream stone, then there was a house to match, a hulking mass made with much less windows than Rukia would have preferred. She thought there was a flickering whiteness at one of the windows, then it moved and she saw it was a lacy curtain, the only sign of civilized living in the entire prison-like building, for although it appeared old and rich it also shone as a beacon of loneliness to Rukia, as though it was trying to disappear into the moor and become a ruin the townspeople would speak of. Mrs. Medlock ushered her forward and Rukia went, but with a singular desire to run from the building as soon as she could./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"Mary Lennox, this is Doctor Craven, your uncle's brotherbr /How do you do?br /You are to take her to her roombr /He doesn't want to see herbr /Very good Doctorbr /There you are then Mary, good night/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"strongAuthor's Note: /strong/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"strongHello readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please RR, comment, or just leave a kudo if you like the story. Find me on tumblr ragingstillness./strong/p
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div class="userstuff module" style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; width: 946.46875px; float: none; word-wrap: break-word; color: #2a2a2a; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"
h3 id="work" class="landmark heading" style="border-width: 0px 0px 0.25em; border-bottom-style: double; border-bottom-color: #333333; outline: 0px; font-weight: 500; font-style: inherit; font-size: 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0.125em; line-height: 0; opacity: 0; height: 0px; clear: both; color: transparent;"Chapter Text/h3
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"Archie, they're asking if they can send the girl herebr /It seems they found an old will naming you as Mary's guardianbr /This is no house for a childbr /I couldn't agree more/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The letter arrived much later than the news it carried deserved and the smallest part of Byakuya was furious it hadn't arrived sooner. But that tiny fraction of his brain was near immediately taken over by the sadness that had coated his thoughts for several years now, only intensified by this newest tragedy. His grandparents, his parents, his wife, and now his brother and sister-in-law, not to mention all of their friends. Really, this cholera was worse than a war when it came to the touch of death. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Yet at the same time he almost wished the cholera had done its job and taken the entire party. This girl, his niece, she was in for a world of pain for the rest of her life. Forever would she have the memory of waking up to a house where her entire family was dead. He wouldn't have been surprised if she never slept again. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The letter was written in quite callous form, reporting the deaths to the other living relative and informing him as to the existence of the girl. His intimate knowledge of heartbreak and the shocking heartlessness of the lawyer who wrote the letter left him in quite the uncomfortable situation. He wanted to be able to turn the girl over to someone else, someone with the experience in raising a child, and, if he was honest with himself, the emotional stability to help her through this hard time. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Eyes pierced into his back, as they had through all of his lonely years, so he turned to the waiting eyes of his wife, staring out of the gilded wall frame. Those violet orbs would haunt his dreams always and, if the servants were to be believed, the house as well./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"Well, we shall simple have to find an appropriate school and-br /No, the girl is Lily's niece. She will come /And Mrs. Medlock, order the child some clothesbr /I won't have her dressed in blackbr /Wandering about like a lost soulbr /That would make the house even sadder than it is/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" His wife had been the kindest soul he knew, caring for anything injured or hurt, until, in her care, she neglected herself. She would have wanted him to take the girl. He met her gaze, calling out from his heart: /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The house was so far away from a school. He could hire a tutor. It was secluded and boring. The grounds were large enough and the hallways dark enough to invoke the fancy of any little girl. He couldn't raise a child. Of course he could, she had always believed he would. But he didn't. But he will. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" And so Byakuya turned from Hisana's belief, hoping some of it lingered in his heart as he set the fountain pen to stationary and sealed it with his wax crest. He'd send the housekeeper for the girl. Maybe a woman's presence at the house would make it less scary to little Rukia. Rukia. What a beautiful name for such a broken girl./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"Mary Lennox, I'm your uncle's housekeeperbr /I suppose you'd like to know somewhat about where you're goingbr /Would I?br /Well don't you care about your new home thembr /It doesn't matter if I care or notbr /Now in all my years br /I have never seen a child sit so still br /Or look so old/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Rukia stepped onto the platform with trepidation, her suitcase clunking down the metal steps of the chassis with her. The man and woman who had brought her, they of the sharp eyes and reams of paper to sign, leaned off the side to wave her goodbye, tears Rukia knew were fake gleaming in the woman's eyes. It would have hurt, to know they didn't care that her family was dead, if she hadn't already been so hurt one more bit was a pebble on the mountain. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" She sat up straight on the station bench in front of her as she had been taught, trying to not look around. None of the faces were familiar to her, people in long brown trenchcoats that had all been dyed by the rain to same nondescript shade, blurring as they passed her. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" She concentrated her eyes on their feet, no matter how high her head was lifted. She was an exercise in contrast, hands folded like a lady but her bags stacked next to her so she could take up the least amount of space available on the bench. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The feet kept moving, flats and short heels and saddle shoes all alike. Then one pair of ladies walking shoes stopped in front of her. These shoes stood out from the group as they were still a dark black, not spattered with mud. They had ornate but not flashy gold buckles that held straps over the top of the woman's foot. Rukia looked up into the weather-beaten face of the person before her. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The woman was midway between thick and thin, the dress hanging off her like it too couldn't decide what size she was. Her hat was brown, like the dress, but black velvet on the inside and tied from the top to under her chin with a transparent white ribbon. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Rukia opened her mouth to speak but the woman cut her off, introducing herself as Mrs. Medlock, Rukia's uncle's housekeeper. Rukia stood, wincing as the displacement of her body caused her stack of bags to slump over on the bench. She held out her hand and shook Mrs. Medlock's. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" "Hello. I am Rukia." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" She couldn't get her last name out, it was too close a reminder of her parents. Mrs. Medlock didn't even spare the pause a glance. She beckoned Rukia up. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Rukia rushed to gather her bags then hurried after Mrs. Medlock, who had already taken off. She knew there was kindness in the housekeeper, but she wasn't going to get it today. Mrs. Medlock was representing her employer, and from the little Rukia had heard about her uncle, he wasn't one for kindness or much emotion of any kind. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Yet once they were in a carriage, heading out over the wailing moors, Mrs. Medlock asked Rukia if she wanted to know anything about her uncle's estate. Rukia shook her head. She already knew all she needed to. It was large, it was hidden away, and it was barely used. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" She dreaded her upcoming days there, sure the house would feel as empty as it did when she woke up in a house of the dead. The men from the army had covered her eyes and taken her out through the closest door, but she couldn't avoid the smell, and the feeling that all the light had been sucked from the place./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"High on a hill sits a big old housebr /With something wrong inside itbr /Spirits haunt the hallsbr /And make no effort now to hide it/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"What will put their souls to restbr /And stop their ceaseless sighingbr /Why do they call out children's names and speakbr /Of one, who's crying/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"Well you're right not to carebr /Your uncle certainly isn't going to trouble himself about you/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"And the master hears the whispersbr /On the stairways dark and stillbr /And the spirits speak of secretsbr /In the house upon the hill/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Byakuya spent little time worrying about that morning, despite what lesser men would have seen as a momentous occasion arriving that afternoon. A little girl did not warrant any celebration, especially one who would only prove to be a detriment to his work. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" A voice in the back of his head, sounding suspiciously like the woman he refused to think about, questioned the nature of his work. There was indeed work to be done, distant foreign investments he handled along with payment of the staff and upkeep of the grounds but, said the little voice, what was the use of worrying about working several years in advance? /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" When one had little to do there was nothing to do but sneak in on your own future, stealing future occupation for your current self, leaving the stricken specter of your future lying on the floor, bored to death. If Byakuya ceased to keep stealing time from himself, he would be left with nothing to do but walk the halls, holding back the desire to wail like the wind when it shook the gilded frame of her portrait. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" He heard the wailing all through the house, no matter whether he was near the portrait or not. It whistled down the back stairs, up through the maroon carpet of his office, and between the sheets of his bed, shoved into the corner of his room as if slamming one of its sides against the wall would make it seem smaller than it was, less obviously meant for two people./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"He's a hunchback you seebr /And a sour young man he wasbr /And got no good of all his money and big plays 'til he were marriedbr /To my Aunt Lily?/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"She were a sweet pretty thingbr /And he'd have walked the world overbr /To get her a blade of grass that she wantedbr /When she diedbr /It made him worse than ever/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"High on a hill sits a big old housebr /With something wrong inside itbr /Someone diedbr /And someone's left alone and can't abide it/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"There in the house is a lonely manbr /Still haunted by her beautybr /Asking what a life can be when naughtbr /Remains but duty/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" He hoped the girl would be unrecognizable. That the one time he'd seen a photo from her childhood would be a lie, that she'd grown tall and blonde, obnoxious and long haired, that she'd be in any way different, have become anything, but short, raven haired, and with shining purple eyes. Those shining purple eyes that haunted his dreams, that shone down from the portraits and whose voice sang through the halls, mixed in between the the shrill notes of the wails, overtones he could almost manage to ignore. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" Even thinking of Hisana's name brought back every note of agony he'd felt with her death. The few people who did contact him that far out in the moor hid their concerns in falsely sweet words that summed up to be an accusation of stubbornness, of an unwillingness to forget the love of his life. Only he knew the truth. That he was trying every day to get over it, to forget her, and that was why he lived so alone and why he was always working, always early, always busy. The moment he stopped, all of the pain came back, so he reasoned that if he worked hard enough, ran far enough, someday he'd reach the closure their letters all teased him with./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"br /Is it always so ugly here?br /It's the moorbr /Miles and miles of wild landbr /That nothing grows on br /But heather and gorsebr /And nothing lives onbr /But wild ponies and sheep/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"But what is that awful howling soundbr /That's the wind, blowing through the bushesbr /They call it wuthering, that soundbr /But look there, that tiny light far across therebr /That'll be the gate it will/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="left" The carriage rattled to a halt when the slowly crumbling cobblestone road they were on gave way to mush made worse by the wind whipping around the light rain that had begun in the middle of the trip. Rukia felt pained to step out into it, especially in her best shoes, but Mrs. Medlock only greeted the mess with a small hmph before flinging the door open and ignoring the hand the driver offered her. Instead she slapped down a few bills into his hand, heedless of the rain that may have been landing on them. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="left" Rukia expected him to be disgruntled but he merely nodded and got back to his front seat, eyes darting back and forth, sweeping the moor as smoothly as the bent backs of the reeds that covered the endless expanse. He saw something in the distance and flinched, then thrust the bags into Rukia's overloaded hands and turned on his heel. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="left" Over her burden Rukia squinted in the same direction and spotted a tiny light, surely several long, wet miles away. Mrs. Medlock saw her glance and jerked her head towards the light, setting off on a path only she could see, the wet reeds leaving long dark stripes on her brown stockings. They were so dark Rukia almost mistook them from dried bloodstains. She swallowed her disgust and the sudden death smell that had risen in her nostrils./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"And the master hears the whispersbr /On the stairways dark and stillbr /And the spirits speak of secretsbr /In the house upon the hill/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" The house itself rose out of the mist as though it had crept up on Rukia. There was nothing but a glinting gate, made of iron and dark, cream stone, then there was a house to match, a hulking mass made with much less windows than Rukia would have preferred. She thought there was a flickering whiteness at one of the windows, then it moved and she saw it was a lacy curtain, the only sign of civilized living in the entire prison-like building, for although it appeared old and rich it also shone as a beacon of loneliness to Rukia, as though it was trying to disappear into the moor and become a ruin the townspeople would speak of. Mrs. Medlock ushered her forward and Rukia went, but with a singular desire to run from the building as soon as she could./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" align="center"Mary Lennox, this is Doctor Craven, your uncle's brotherbr /How do you do?br /You are to take her to her roombr /He doesn't want to see herbr /Very good Doctorbr /There you are then Mary, good night/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"strongAuthor's Note: /strong/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"strongHello readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please RR, comment, or just leave a kudo if you like the story. Find me on tumblr ragingstillness./strong/p
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