Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Tite Kubo does. This story, however, is mine.
Quick Note: Just in case some of you don't know, the word 'bokken' is the Japanese term for 'Wooden sword', so I'll be using the two interchangeably.
All's Fair in Love and Kendo
She had expected to be a wreck treading on pins and needles all day, but to Rukia's surprise her nagging nervousness that morning had given way to a kind of hyper-keen focus. As she cast Kido spell after Kido spell, the violet-eyed Shinigami could feel the energy flow out of her like it was the most natural thing in the world; she'd even pulled off a flawless, bypassed shakkaho. Life was great, a feeling Rukia had almost never experienced growing up in the Rukongai.
And it was all because of the activity she would be performing in approximately six hours, five minutes and forty-two seconds: wiping that smug grin off of Hisagi Shuhei's face for good by thrashing him in a Kendo sparring session. She'd stopped by the dojo Renji and Kira had been training in earlier to observe them and her sharp eyes had taken in every maneuver she could, from strikes and blocks to stance-shifts and parries. Her friend made it look effortless, but Rukia knew she would need her A-game and more than a little luck to take down her tattooed, choker-wearing sensei.
Her own Kendo training session was the last class Rukia had that day, and it was here that tendrils of nervousness began to slip around the Shinigami's confidence and put it into a chokehold. Part of her wanted to view this as nothing more than a slightly strenuous warm-up, but Rukia knew it was more than that; much more. If she succeeded here, it was about as good an omen as she could hope for. If she was trounced by someone in Class Two, though, the forecast was looking decidedly bleaker.
"Oi, Rukia! Stop spacing out and get up here!"
The instructor's shout jolted her sharply out of her ruminations, and Rukia nodded her head shortly before walking over to the mat as calmly as she could, bokken in hand. When she looked up to see whom her opponent was, though, the student's violet eyes widened in surprise.
"What the hell are you doing here?!"
"Wanted to see if you'd gotten any better, Rukia, and your instructor decided to oblige me," Renji answered with a smirk. "What's wrong; you scared?"
"You wish, Renji," Rukia snapped back, the surprise in her eyes hardening into determination as she dashed forward, bokken held high. Abarai read the strike from a mile away and blocked when he could have just as easily dodged and counter-attacked, the true reason for his sudden visit becoming apparent as he leaned in and spoke, his voice a harsh whisper.
"Care to tell me what's going on between you and Shuhei, Rukia?"
The petite Shinigami sighed as her sword strained against her friend's; she should have known this was why he had shown up.
"Nothing," she spat back, trying in vain to break the deadlock in her favor. "Why do you even care, Renji?"
"Who says I care?" Abarai parried as he broke the block with a shove, effortlessly disarming Rukia with little more than a flick of his wrist before resting the dull edge of his weapon against her throat.
"Do what you want with your own life, Rukia," he continued as he dropped his bokken and began to walk away, "but when it all goes to hell, don't come crying to me."
With that her friend flashed away in a clumsy but serviceable attempt at shunpo, as if he was trying to drive the differences in their skills even further into her mind. Rukia let her weapon slip from numb fingers and trudged back to the sidelines, eyes open but unseeing.
And her day had been going so well…
Hisagi, hidden in the corner shadows of the dojo had only seen one strike from his new pupil before Abarai had decided to make his point and end the spar. His practiced eyes, however, gleaned volumes of information from that one, seemingly simple gesture. The way Rukia had been so easily provoked, the rigidity of her swing, the way her muscles resisted the natural flow of movement… she was like an open book, and Shuhei was going to enjoy drinking in page after page after page.
If she still bothered to show up now, that was. The look on her face after the completion of her defeat was one Hisagi had seen on the faces of myriad dropouts in his time, and he could only pray that Rukia had more spine in her than that. There was only one way to find out, however, and that was to wait. Slipping quietly from the room, the scarred Shinigami flashed away with a whisper and went to seek out Ikkaku for a round of sake that he hoped wouldn't end in yet another duel. The last thing he needed was to show up tonight with a pair of black eyes, looking for all the world like a punch-drunk raccoon.
Rukia had wrestled for hours with the idea of just not showing up that night and being defeated yet again by a superior swordsman, and her internal crisis had led her into the open arms of a barstool and a bottle of sake.
"Kendo's o'errated, anyways," she mumbled in a half-slur. "Buncha boys waving around big sticks and arguin' fore'er 'bout who's better't handlin' 'em… 's bullshit, 'zwhat that is."
"I wouldn't say that, young lady," a soft voice said next to her as a fellow patron slid into the stool adjacent to hers with a soft swish of robes. Rukia looked over to see who had addressed her, did a triple-take and promptly spit her mouthful of sake out across the bar as her buzz fled from her mind faster than a bolt of Byakurai.
"C—Captain Unohana?!" she exclaimed. "Wha—how—why?"
"Because I've been sensing your depressing reiatsu for the past hour. It's starting to sink its teeth into me," the elegant Captain replied, "and I can't afford to be distracted when souls are on the line. What do you say we go for a walk, you and I? It might help you clear your head."
Rukia could only nod dumbly and rise, following the haori-wearing woman out of the dingy dive and back into the light of day.
"May I ask you a question, Captain?" Rukia asked after a few moments of silence, and Unohana nodded smoothly.
"Of course."
"Why would someone like you hold Kendo in such high regard? I thought your job was to heal people, not hack them up into little pieces."
The older woman was silent for a moment before she replied, her voice gaining a depth to it that spoke of profound knowledge as her words also grew less understated and more defined.
"I treated a patient the other day who is a member of the Eleventh Division," Unohana said. "She fell on her own zanpakuto, trying to kill herself. Do you know why she did this?"
Rukia shook her head negatively, and the Captain supplied the answer.
"Because the fact that her zanpakuto was Kido-based became common knowledge, and she could not bear the shame of being treated like an outcast."
The listener's violet eyes widened, her tone incredulous as she replied.
"She tried to kill herself over something that stupid?" she gasped. "Kido's nothing to be ashamed of! It's much more elegant and powerful than Kendo will ever be!"
"And by thinking in those terms, you help to perpetuate the cycle that almost claimed the life of that young woman," Unohana said mournfully. "It is commonly accepted that there are four distinct types of power a Shinigami can train in, child; Kendo, Hakudo, Hoho, and Kido. But this is a fundamentally flawed view.
"They are not separate powers, but rather aspects of a greater whole; to view one as superior to another is to trivialize the crucial nature that each of them possesses. Where would the Hakudo master be without the power of Hoho to lend them speed, for example? Do not disregard a discipline because it runs counter to your area of expertise, child," Unohana finished, "for it is often in exploring our weaknesses that we find true strength."
Before Rukia could reply, the Captain vanished from sight. For a moment she thought she'd hallucinated the whole encounter, until she noticed that a piece of paper was clutched in her right hand. Looking down, the young Shinigami read the note and smiled.
Hope that helped ease your mind… and don't worry about your tab, I picked it up.
Rukia realized that she was now indebted to one of the most powerful Shinigami in existence, and since she obviously had nothing to offer her, it was the least she could do to follow her advice.
It looked like a certain tattoo-wearing, smug and infuriatingly handsome punk was going to get his clock cleaned tonight after all.
Rukia walked along the wooden floor of the Eleventh Division compound as silently as she could, not wanting to disturb any of the fearsome brawlers as she made her way towards where Hisagi had said the empty dojo would be. Her heart was beating like a jackhammer in her chest from the combination of anticipation, adrenaline and fear, and it felt like the slightest shock would give her a heart attack.
"Who're you, lady?"
Well, she didn't quite have a heart attack, but Rukia did jump a good three feet into the air at the unexpected question. Hastily spinning around, the young Shinigami expected to find herself face-to-face with a big, bad-smelling brute. She was initially confused when there was no one behind her, but Rukia's gaze soon swept over a head of shockingly pink hair before continuing down in that direction and resting on the figure of the only person Rukia had ever seen who was shorter than her. Not only that, but this kid had the insignia of a Lieutenant resting on her right arm.
"Um… uh…" Rukia stuttered, utterly incapable of believing that the pixie in front of her was actually real. "I'm just visiting…" she began, but the girl cut her off.
"Are you a friend of Ken-chan's?"
"Who?" Rukia asked, and the girl stared at her like she'd just sprouted wings.
"You don't know who Ken-chan is?!" she blurted out. "He's only the greatest Shinigami ever to exist, ever! How can you not know who he is? Everyone knows who he is! Oh," she spoke suddenly, the disbelief in her voice replaced by delight as she ran past Rukia, "there he is! I was just talking about how amazing you are, Ken-chan!"
"I bet," an edged, amused voice spoke out from behind the now-thoroughly bewildered trespasser. "What have we here, Yachiru? I didn't think this place had a mice infestation…"
"Are you calling me a mouse!?" Rukia shouted as she turned around yet again, the fire that had sprung up in her eyes immediately quenched as she saw whom she was staring at.
"Well, what do ya know, Yachiru?" Zaraki spoke with steely mirth. "Looks like this one has fangs after all. You wanna show me how sharp they are, kid?" he finished as he began to draw his zanpakuto, and Rukia was rooted to the spot in terror.
"With all due respect, Captain," a calm voice broke in from off to the left, "I don't think she would provide much sport."
Kenpachi looked over with a grunt as Hisagi emerged from the nearby shadows, and Zaraki raised a single eyebrow.
"You know this kid, Shuhei?"
"She's a student of mine," the young man replied smoothly. "I told her to meet me in your spare dojo for some training, but I guess she got lost somewhere along the line. My apologies for the disturbance, Captain."
"Bah, shelf those formalities, kid," the spiky-haired Captain said dismissively, the faint tinkle of bells sounding as his head shifted forwards. "You come to a decision yet about my offer?"
Hisagi shook his head shortly, and Kenpachi grunted again.
"Don't take too much time," he said as he turned around and began to walk away. "Seats fill up fast in my Division."
"I'm sure another one will open up tomorrow come happy hour, Captain," Shuhei parried, and Zaraki just gave a rumbling laugh as he rounded the nearby corner.
"See ya soon, freeloader-chan!" Yachiru called out with a giggle, and the tattooed warrior sighed as Rukia looked up at him quizzically.
"'Freeloader-chan'?"
"I had to borrow money from her once to pay for some food. She's never going to let me live that one down. Let's go," he groused as his student began to chuckle, "and get focused," Hisagi added with annoyance as Rukia fought to stop chuckling. "We have a long night ahead of us, student."
The implications of that statement shut his pupil up in a flash, and Shuhei smirked as he led the way to the dojo.
"First thing's first," Hisagi's voice rang out authoritatively in the empty dojo. "We need to work on your stance, or more appropriately your lack of one."
"What are you talking about?" Rukia shot back. "This is a perfectly fine—"
The student was soon shut up by her teacher as Shuhei struck out with the speed and precision of a rattlesnake, and she found herself disarmed once again.
"Oh, really?" the older warrior quipped smugly, a smirk playing on his lips. "There were more openings in that thing you called a stance than there are members of the Central 46. You come at me this time, and I'll show you how a real stance is supposed to look."
Rukia bent over and picked up her bokken before turning to face Hisagi again, and what she saw made her brow furrow with anger.
The cocky bastard had blindfolded himself.
"Are you trying to get me pissed by showing off like that?" she spat, and her teacher gave the smallest of smirks in reply.
"This isn't me showing off, rookie," he answered, deliberately baiting her with the nickname. "This is me making a point. Now hurry up and attack; we have a lot of ground to cover and I'd like to get to the fun stuff before sunrise."
After taking a moment to mull over what her sensei could possibly mean by 'fun stuff' and realizing that all of those outcomes were quite desirable, Rukia got over her hesitation and lunged forward, aiming her bokken right between Shuhei's eyes. The older Shinigami twisted out of the way at the last minute, snapped the descending sword clean in half with a sharp, controlled swing and finished off the maneuver by knocking the wind out of his student with another blow that sent her tumbling to the mat. He kept her down by placing the tip of his bokken up against Rukia's sternum, applying just enough pressure to immobilize her.
"Get the point, student?" he asked as he removed the band of cloth from around his eyes. Once Rukia got over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, she smirked and replied as evenly as she could.
"You like to be on top?"
Hisagi's eyes smoldered for a brief moment at the quip, and the corners of his mouth twitched up into a charged smile.
"That's for me to know, Rukia," he parried as the point of his sword trailed slowly up her chest to rest underneath her chin, "and for you to find out."
The violet-eyed Shinigami was unable to completely suppress a shiver at Shuhei's words and actions, and was kicking herself for ever provoking him when she blinked and saw that he had extended his hand down to help her up. Reaching out and grabbing it instinctively, Rukia suddenly wished that she'd just gotten up by herself as the warmth emanating from Hisagi's hand swept down her still-goosebumped arm and made her fight to keep another shiver at bay.
What the hell was this guy made of?
"My point was that a stance should be loose enough to parry an attack at a second's notice," Shuhei spoke as if the previous minute had never happened, "and flexible enough to execute a strong counter-strike. In addition, you should be able to fight blind; when blades are moving fast enough to be blurred, I doubt trusting your eyes is going to get you very far."
"And what should I trust instead, sensei?" Rukia replied sarcastically. "My superb sense of smell?"
"Your instincts," Hisagi answered evenly, before vanishing from sight in a flash of shunpo. His student barely had a chance to react to the sudden movement before her world went dark as the black strip of cloth was placed gently over her eyes and tied securely around her head. As she began to balk at the sudden loss of her sight, the gentle caress of breath against her ear stilled Rukia's movements in an instant.
"Trust me," her teacher whispered smoothly, before his presence left her side completely and Rukia found herself having to bite back a complaining moan at the sudden chill that swept over her in Shuhei's absence.
"I'm starting you out without a sword, so you have both hands free to feel out my movements," he began, picking up his discarded bokken and holding it casually in one hand. "Once you get the basics down, we can move back up to wooden swords, and then to actual katana."
"Actual what?!" Rukia said in shock, which was just the reaction Hisagi had been expecting. Lunging forward with liquid grace, he swung down and brought his wooden weapon to a stop right in front of his student's face.
"Lesson Two," he said seriously, "don't let yourself get distracted during a duel, for any reason. Got it?"
Rukia nodded slowly, feeling like she'd just been smacked across the face. Shuhei sighed and felt like offering up some encouragement, but there was a time for kid gloves and now was not that time. Backing away, the teacher reassumed his stance and gave his pupil a chance to calm her nerves before moving forward and lashing out again.
This time Rukia was waiting on pins and needles for the attack, and when it finally came it was almost like she had no blindfold on at all. The younger Shinigami could feel the air around her shift as Hisagi's sword cut down through it, but the weapon was moving too quickly for her to dodge it. Determined not to go down, however, Rukia braced her feet on the mat and struck out with one of her hands, gripping the dull edge of her teacher's bokken and stopping it in its tracks. She slid back a few inches as the recoil slammed into her, but beyond that her stance didn't budge an inch.
"Well, that's one of dealing with an opponent's attack," Shuhei commented with a hint of admiration in his voice for pulling such a gutsy maneuver, "but since you aren't Captain Zaraki, I wouldn't recommend trying that on someone holding a real sword any time soon. Give yourself enough time to dodge; you should be able to sense where an attack is coming from the moment the strike begins."
"Excuse me for not having freakish reflexes," Rukia snapped back. "There's a reason why I focus on Kido instead of Kendo—"
She stopped herself in mid-sentence as Rukia realized with a start that Hisagi was obviously going to try and attack her while he thought she wasn't paying attention. Sharpening her focus just as her sensei struck once again, the blindfolded student felt the air around her cleave in the presence of Shuhei's sword and twisted sharply out of its path, stifling a hiss in her throat as every muscle in her body screamed in protest at the unnatural torque the dodge created. As the sound of the wooden sword hitting nothing but air reached her ears, Rukia smirked, relaxed her guard…
And promptly felt her feet leave the ground as Hisagi's second strike slammed into her midsection. Cursing a blue-streak and tensing for the inevitable impact with the mat, Rukia was surprised to feel a lithe, muscular arm wrap around her waist and stop her momentum. A heartbeat later the warm breath she had felt earlier tickled her ear once again, but this time the tone of the whisper was decidedly molten.
"What did I tell you about being distracted, student?"
Determined to turn the tables on her teacher, Rukia smirked to herself and replied.
"I'm so sorry, sensei-sama," she said in an exaggerated tone. "It won't happen again."
To her immense satisfaction, Rukia felt Shuhei's arm tense for a moment around her midsection and his breath hitch for a heartbeat before he put her down on her feet sharply. He then took a moment to right himself and felt supremely glad that his student hadn't been able to see what her retort had done to his expression.
"Good," he replied a little too huskily, kicking himself as he saw a supremely smug smirk spread over Rukia's face.
"Can we hurry up and finish this part, Shuhei?" she asked in an almost impish tone. "I want to see your face the next time you get all flustered like that."
"I don't know what you mean," he shot back, springing forward without warning and striking out once again. But now adrenaline was running rampant through Rukia's body as her heart pumped in overdrive, and for the first time she knew she had an edge over her distracted teacher. She spun out of the way of the incoming bokken with feline poise, grabbing Hisagi's weapon and using it as an anchor to flip him up into the air while she simultaneously disarmed him. Lifting up her blindfold and pressing the point of the bokken against his sternum, the student smiled as she realized she'd brought Shuhei down before he had even known what had hit him.
"I think I'm ready for a wooden sword now, sensei," Rukia all but purred in her victory, and the older Shinigami strained mightily to resist the sudden impulse to sweep kick Rukia's legs out from under her and make her pay for that stunt in a most pleasurable manner. She certainly didn't help things by extending her hand to help him up; Hisagi didn't rise to the bait, however, and got up on his own. He smirked internally at the shadow of disappointment that passed over his student's face at the refusal: yes, this was a game they could both play, and Shuhei loved a strong sparring partner…
"Fair enough," he said once he had gotten his head back on straight, the tone of his voice returned to normal. Tossing Rukia a bokken, he assumed his stance once again. As his opponent moved to refasten her blindfold, however, he shook his head.
"No, keep that off," he ordered. "I want to watch that smirk disappear from your face, Rukia."
Hisagi smiled almost savagely as he saw his sparring partner become visibly unsettled at the implications in his voice as he said her name. He lunged, hoping to end this in one attack, but Rukia was just fast enough to reflexively raise her sword and block the blow. Shuhei's smile widened, and his eyes gleamed with something Rukia couldn't quite place.
"Those are the instincts I've been looking for," the teacher said with a low growl as he pushed against the block. "Let's see how strong they are, shall we?"
The next ten minutes were composed of a single solid sparring session between the two duelers: Shuhei was soon fighting with everything he had, hoping to overwhelm Rukia, but as his student relaxed and found her groove Hisagi was both happy and frustrated to see that she moved with a much smoother rhythm than he had first thought possible. Her blocks soon gave way to graceful dodges, and by the time they were nearing their mutual breaking points it was almost like he was fighting a completely different person. Gone was the tense, self-deprecating and unsure rookie, and in its place slowly but surely emerged a confident, graceful and tenacious swordswoman who, while not being on her teacher's level, could certainly make him work for a victory.
So he was right after all, in the end: all she had needed was the right catalyst, and the rest flowed like water. Still, there was something that was holding her back nonetheless. The tattooed warrior thought he knew what it was, and decided to put his guess to the test.
"So, sensei," Rukia asked as they rested, her tone breathless but playful, "are you pleased with my progress?"
"Very," Shuhei parried with a smirk. "But don't think I'm finished with you quite yet," he added, his smirk widening as the violet-eyed Shinigami across from him raised a single, inquisitive eyebrow.
"Enough of this amateur hour bokken dueling. Now, we start sparring with katana," he finished with a wicked gleam in his eyes, flashing away before Rukia could get a word in and reappearing soon after with two sheathed, very sharp steel blades.
"But…"
"This is no time to hesitate, Rukia," Hisagi said, with primal eagerness fairly dripping from every word as he tossed her a weapon. "Eventually you're going to be using these to spar in lessons, and if someone's going to humiliate you the first time around I'd rather it be me than some random punk in your class."
Any apprehensiveness that shone in Rukia's eyes was immediately turned to ashes by the fire that swept into her gaze at the challenge.
"Who's says I'm gonna be the one who gets humiliated, sensei?" she parried, drawing her sword with a hiss as she spoke. "You can't defeat someone you can't attack, and I can dance circles around you. You'll be in a heap on the floor before you can put a scratch on me, Shuhei."
"Is that so?"
Rukia inhaled sharply as Hisagi vanished in a flash of shunpo and appeared right in front of her, tagging her jaw-line with the lightest of cuts as the point of his katana slid over her skin so smoothly she didn't even feel it until a few heartbeats after the stroke had been completed. Smoldering amethyst eyes clashed with their deep onyx rivals, only for their contest to be broken off sharply as Shuhei vanished again and reappeared a few paces in front of Rukia.
"That wasn't fair," she half-snarled, frustration and adrenaline warring with a paradoxical pleasure-pain for control of her tone. "I can't use shunpo, you bastard!"
"Doesn't mean you can't learn how to anticipate it, Rukia," Hisagi said slyly as he brought his sword down hard to shake the blood off of the blade. "After all, shunpo has its roots in Kido… wasn't that supposed to be your area of expertise?"
Something inside of the petite Shinigami snapped at the barb and released a surge of anger that propelled her forward with a strangled snarl, bringing down her raised katana with a harsh hiss. Shuhei brought up his own to block the strike, taken aback by the force behind the swing.
"Was it something I said?" he quipped, trying to take the increasingly sharp edge off of the situation, but his words provoked an outcome completely opposite to the one he had been going for. Rukia fought like a berserker, whirling and striking in a blur of motion powered by seething, repressed fury.
"That's all anyone ever says!" she shouted. "Renji, all of my instructors, and now you! Just because I'm not in the top of the class doesn't mean I'm ineffectual, damn it!"
Hisagi let her ride out the tidal wave of unresolved insecurity and pent-up rage, blocking most of her strikes but taking more than a few hits as well. Not that the pain didn't affect him, but he wasn't about to stop Rukia's mental catharsis for the sake of easing his own physical pain. It was only when they ended up in the ultimate deadlock, panting and with their blades resting at each other's necks, that Shuhei dared to speak.
"I never said you were ineffectual, Rukia," he spoke in a soothing, smooth voice. "And anyone who does say something that stupid is just covering up for their own flaws, Abarai included. Have you seen him try to cast a Hainawa, for gods' sake? The last time he tried to bypass it, Renji wound up breaking both of his arms in three places when the ropes decided to coil around him rather than the practice dummy."
A reluctant smile formed on his student's face at the anecdote, and Hisagi let his posture relax.
"I was just trying to get at what was holding you back, Rukia," he continued. "I didn't want to pry it out of you like that, but all of your stagnant anger was making you—"
Rukia tensed the sword at her teacher's throat, silencing him.
"You talk too much, Shuhei," she replied, her voice dropping an octave as the anger in her eyes shifted into an emotion that was a volatile mix of predatory desire and lust. Hisagi instinctively knew what was coming, and barely had time to drop his katana and try to brace himself before he was tackled by a petite projectile and sent falling to the mat.
As he blinked to clear his vision, the scarred Shinigami found himself pinned underneath Rukia. She was staring down at him like a lioness eying a fresh carcass, while her uniform hung about her in tatters thanks to Hisagi's sword slashes. Her gaze swept languorously over a cut that was visible on his abdomen, eyes narrowing at the sight.
"Looks like I got you pretty good there, Shuhei," she said lowly, shifting her body to allow for closer inspection of the wound. "Maybe I can do something to take your mind off of it," she mused coyly, before beginning to do just that and trailing teasing, butterfly caresses along the outside of the cut.
Any words of protest that might have been forming in Hisagi's throat before this came out as nothing more than a groan of twisted satisfaction, a sound that spurred Rukia on even more as she moved upwards and swept over a few more of the scratches she had inflicted on her sensei.
Eventually Shuhei had been pushed and prodded beyond the point of restraint. He broke sharply out of Rukia's hold with a powerful buck of his hips before grabbing her around the waist and using shunpo to transport them both to up against the nearest wall. Rukia soon found herself slammed into it and the air left her lungs as Hiasgi's dark eyes burned with something that she couldn't place; before she could blink, he was kissing her fiercely and everything melted into a glorious haze.
She'd thought nothing would be able to top their near-death embrace from a few days prior, but the violet-eyed Shinigami was incredibly pleased to discover that she was very, very wrong. All of her tightly-coiled and hair-triggered emotions that had been a gigantic burden to her over the past few weeks flowed out over the connection formed by their lips, and by the time they broke apart Rukia felt as though a huge boulder had rolled off of her shoulders.
The violet-eyed Shinigami acquiesced with a contented sigh as Hisagi swept her up into his arms and carried her over to the mat before setting her down gently, and the scant few hours the pair possessed before sunrise passed in a blissful chorus.
As they lay sprawled out on the mat the next morning, numbed but satiated and utterly content just being in that moment, Rukia's voice came reluctantly back to her and she spoke.
"So, what happens now?" she asked, absent-mindedly running her fingers gently over the scars on the right side of Hisagi's face. "You're not going to be a teacher forever with all of these Divisions hounding after you to join them, and I think it would be too hard for people to look the other way if a seated officer was shacking up with someone who wasn't even in a Division…"
Shuhei chuckled at that, part of him wanting to reply that something like that would never stop him anyway while the rest of him decided to go with a less crude response.
"That just means you'll have to hurry up and graduate, then, doesn't it?" he parried, earning him a light smack on the arm from his companion. "Trust me, Rukia," he continued, giving her a reassuring look as he spoke, "you've got more than enough talent to get out of that red-and-white uniform and in to some proper Shinigami robes. If it takes five more months or five more years, I'll be waiting regardless."
"Really?" Rukia asked with cool skepticism, but her eyes reflected the doubt that was growing in her heart. Determined to banish that ridiculous feeling once and for all, Hisagi leaned his head over slightly and gently brushed her stray bunch of hair away from her forehead before giving the now-exposed flesh a heartfelt kiss.
"Absolutely," he whispered sincerely, glad to feel Rukia palpably relax under him. "That's a promise."
"One I'm going to hold you to, Shuhei," the violet-eyed Soul Reaper said insistently, and Hisagi chuckled again.
"I wouldn't expect anything less," he answered, before rolling over onto his back and stretching out with a sigh.
"Speaking of which," the older Shinigami continued, "don't you have somewhere to be right now?"
Rukia's eyes widened and her expression became suddenly panicked as she realized that not only was she late for her first lecture of the day, but she was without clothes entirely as her companion had slashed them up the night before during their sparring session.
"Don't worry," he said casually, reading her thoughts from her expression. "There should be some extra uniforms in that closet over there; if anyone asks, I'll say Yachiru stole it. Happens all the time."
Rukia rose uncertainly to her feet and gave Shuhei a searching look, but nothing in his eyes told her he was lying. Besides, what reason did he possibly have to pull a stunt like that now, after he had so much more to lose by pissing her off? Moving quickly to the aforementioned closet and now wearing a mischievous smirk on her face, she found the spare uniforms Hisagi had mentioned and shrugged one on before picking up her katana. She gave her teacher a parting kiss before bolting out the door, making sure to lock it behind her for Shuhei's sake.
The young woman hadn't gone more than ten steps outside of Eleventh Division grounds when an elderly man walked briskly up to her and paused, catching his breath in gasps while Rukia just looked at him oddly.
"Are you Rukia?" he asked after a few heartbeats, and the violet-eyed Shinigami nodded hesitantly. The man's eyes lit up and he smiled, bowing slightly.
"Please come with me, young lady," he said as he began to walk away as rapidly as he had come. "There is someone I serve under who would like very much to make your acquaintance."
Hearing something in the earnest man's voice that told her she could trust him and feeling in an incredibly optimistic mood thanks to her current state of mind, the student followed in his wake. Rukia soon found herself in a room occupied by another older man and someone who was much younger, but still physically older than Rukia by at least a decade and a half. He had long black hair that was separated out by a hairpiece and wore a elegant, green silken scarf that draped over a white Captain's haori. His steely grey eyes looked over her searchingly, and suddenly Rukia felt like her deepest secrets were being ripped from her heart and laid bare.
"This is my master, Rukia, and head of our clan," her guide from earlier spoke out into the stiff silence of the room. "His name is Byakuya Kuchiki, and he has expressed great interest in adopting you into our clan as his sister."
'Shell-shocked' did not even come close to describing how Rukia felt in that moment. As she was faced with an offer that was impossible to refuse, she felt her heart beginning to crack and splinter as images of a content future with Shuhei were swept from her mind, replaced with the stifling life of a noble and the gleaming walls of what would undoubtedly become her gilded cage.
What was she going to do?
A/N: Yes, this story is no longer a one-shot. Huzzah. I think it'll probably expand to about 4 chapters overall, 5 or 6 at the absolute maximum. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!
Also, huge props go out to both MatsuMama and Philyra, the best betas ever. Three cheers for each of you, and thanks again for all of your help!