Chapter.8: Secrets

Words flashed on the tiny screen: Church of the Holy Sepulcher downtown Tokyo. Rukia scarcely blinked, closing the compact and standing up, she silently exited the meeting room. Hanataro glanced at her retreating back and Kurosaki's expressionless face. "Shouldn't you be inquiring as to where she's going?" he tentatively asked.

The lead hunter's brown eyes rolled up from the paper he was reading then back down to the newsprint, "Kuchiki is more than able to take care of herself. She's a craft user after all." He dryly added, "not a normal human."

The clock ticked and Hanataro quietly resumed his usual typing; in a way he was right. But did that mean he viewed her the way he had Senna? Uncomfortably half an hour slid by, Kurosaki occasionally turned the pages of the paper, pausing every now and then to peruse a certain article. From the partition across the way, their Chief muttered over expense reports, demanding a refill of tea often from the hovering bespectacled assistant lurking over his shoulder.

It was a slow day undoubtedly.

Without the presences of either the usually bubbly Rangiku, or Renji since he'd managed to cry off a single day's rest in sympathy to his hurt ankle…Momo had stayed at home also, leaving a voice message about relatives dropping in to visit. The caseload wasn't heavy as to deem sending out the reluctant hunters, even though Rukia was supposed to be Kurosaki's partner…

Hanataro jolted when the newspaper was slammed onto the desk near his elbow. Frightened, he looked up to see Kurosaki stretching, his black vest buttoned over the turtleneck and slacks. The lead hunter lazily glanced at the clock and frowned, displeasure highlighting itself on his tanned face. Calmly as coolly he could be, he strolled toward the office door, passing Ishida with a tray of tea things. Hanataro peeked over the flat screen of his computer as Kurosaki went out; biting in a snicker for as to where he was going was obvious.

~~~*~~~

The silence in the Church was absolute. Her footsteps echoed loudly, disturbingly in the reverent quiet. The pews were all empty save for one mid-center, the black hair of a man and rigid poise as she neared him coming up the carpeted aisle, left no doubt in her mind as to his identity.

"Father Byakuya," she spoke softly, dropping down at the end of the wooden pew, her knees sinking onto the very edge of the stone floor where it met the crimson material. The man didn't acknowledge her; his slate gray eyes were focused on the tall cross above the altar, in his long-fingered hands, a silver chain dangled.

"Rukia," he finally said. He wore the uniform of his station, a black long sleeved dress shirt and hip-length jerkin of a stiffer material than the silk. Plain slacks, his feet in narrow black oxfords, encased his slim legs. In short, a very elegant man; though she knew he would've laughed at her foolishness, she couldn't help but be in awe of his presence.

Influence.

The Chief's words filtered through her mind as Byakuya beckoned her to take a seat beside him. In a peaceful quiet, they sat. Rukia had her hands folded on her lap; her eyes didn't stray to him once. Briefly she considered questioning his reasons for being in Tokyo but then knew he'd get to the point soon enough. Byakuya Kuchiki was a man of few words.

Indeed this was so for he asked in a rumbling baritone, "how are you finding the SCG team?" This was no ordinary question so she opened her mouth twice before selecting a suitable answer; "they conduct things differently from HQ."

Byakuya nodded, expecting this, "Aizen doesn't always follow Solomon's teachings. He can be a problem." Then almost pensively he murmured, "You know your duty right? Your reason for being placed here?"

"Yes. First and foremost my obligation is to HQ and fulfill any and all orders given to me," Rukia turned to him for the first time and tried meeting his eyes, "under pain of death should I fail…Byakuya."

He avoided her, instead lowering his gaze to his closed fist, "good. Then I will leave you this." One side of the Church's double doors opened, shedding sunlight into the gloomy place of worship. Byakuya glanced back, amusement flickering his gray eyes, "I must be going, Rukia. One of them is here." As he passed her, his hand brushed hers and it wasn't until Byakuya had disappeared in a side door off the last pews and Kurosaki's tall form slouched up, did she peek into her palm.

A red stone lay there. Oval and pointed at top and bottom, a crisscross of silver work joined at the vail to slide on the faceted rope chain curled against her sweating skin. "What're you doing here, Kuchiki?" Kurosaki asked, scowling when she didn't answer.

She turned and looked up into his frowning face and halo of bright orange hair, knowing to tell the truth would be placing her mission in danger. "Praying." She said simply, standing up, the long folds of her old black dress falling into place. Kurosaki raised an eyebrow, "I can see that." He clutched his cell at his side as she did the same; hiding the pendant Byakuya had given her.

"How did you find me?"

"GPS tracking from your phone," he answered, stiffly pivoting around and striding toward the doors. Rukia followed him more slowly, "really? I didn't know it had that feature."

"Yeah…it does." He waited for her to catch up and made a bridge for her to duck beneath his arm out into the sunny day. Rukia hid a secret smile, knowing that he was lying for she had left her cell locked in the drawer in her terminal back at the office…

~~~To be continued~~~

A/N: an in-between chapter for seven and nine. :) It was meant to be short…and with a little IchiRuki-ness since I agree with White moon, Orihime shouldn't interfere :( but as in WHR, Amon was dating Touko…ahem anyhow, please review and yeah I am doing CH.9 already.