There were two ways off of Sokyoku Hill. One was the system of bridges and tunnels through which she'd been taken; the other, a staircase that cleaved to the rock-face and led back to the maze of barracks and storehouses at the heart of the sereitei. It was this way that Renji took her.
"I'm so sorry," she said after he had carried her for a little while. She had her hand knitted into his shihakusho, her head against his chest.
"Shut up, Rukia," he said, but the timbre of his voice was soft.
"This is my fault."
"You know, you have all this pain, all this guilt, all this crap you keep inside. Why don't you share it sometimes? You're not strong enough to carry that burden all on your own. That's why we got stronger, Ichigo and I. So you wouldn't have to carry it alone anymore."
Her eyes widened. He'd spoken so casually and yet he had just torn the heart out of all the secrets, all the doubts, all the insecurities she had harboured for so many years.
She started to cry again, silently this time, burying her head in his robe. She felt his steps slow. He seemed unsure of what she was doing or why and it took him a moment to realise she was just weeping. Then he shifted her weight in his arms so that he could touch her cheek: "You're such an idiot," he said gently.