Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Bleach and all its characters are the property of Kubo Tite

Gin + Rukia
(Not too long after Rukia is adopted into Kuchiki family)

2. Combing

"Hey-. Rukia-chan, right?"

Kuchiki Rukia pauses and half-thinks that she'd imagined call. It's been a while since anybody has addressed her that way. She turns around. There's a field of grass and wildflowers just beyond the smooth path she is walking – a sight so sharply bright it almost stabs at her eyes. A figure sits among the grass, underneath a tree, like some mischievous spirit from one of the tales she heard as a child. Yet - Rukia blinks to make sure – if it really is a spirit, then it had managed to steal a captain's uniform. The figure calls to her again. Rukia unthinkingly points to herself before remembering her current position and hastily bends into a formal bow. When she lifts her head, the figure is beckoning towards her.

["One shouldn't follow when a spirit beckons…" That's how one of the old tales went.]

It sinks into her that the captain of the 3rd division is calling an unseated shinigami. Rukia hurriedly steps into the field. The tall grass and long-necked flowers snag at her uniform as she makes her way towards the captain. She stops uncertainly in front of the sitting figure, wondering if it is impolite to look down on a superior – but wouldn't it be more impudent to sit down without being asked?

Then Ichimaru Gin holds out a comb.

"Do me a favor?"

Rukia blinks. It's summer. The afternoon sun is pouring its heat and cicadas scream under its weight. The nearby tree drapes splotches of shadow upon the pale figure in front of her.

"Sir?"

"You see, it's the dandelion seeds. Can't get these fluffs out of my hair – and I can't see the back of my head. So…"

Rukia stares. She is just outside of the tree's shade and the top of her head feels hot. Her hair is damp with sweat due to the previous training. There's liquid warmth inside her head that makes her numb. A stray thought floats above from her hazy consciousness – this colorless creature that holds out a comb to her, he must feel cold to the touch.

["…You'll be like a bird held by a snake's gaze…"]

Rukia notices that she hadn't made a reply only after she takes the comb. But by then, Rukia is already inside the shade facing the back of Gin's head. Rukia cautiously kneels down. There are indeed many fluff-seeds hidden between the white locks. Rukia endeavors to not touch with her hands but this proves impossible. Rukia is soon absorbed in the task - her fingers carefully parting and smoothing out the pale strands that do indeed feel cool every time her skin brushes against them.

[She had touched a snake once, when she was young. A dare from one of her playmates in Rukongai. The dryness of the skin surprised her, smooth and soft. The mild coldness almost alarming.]

At some point, she realizes that she is idly combing through the white strands because the errant cotton-clumps cannot be found anymore. She stops and hesitates. Then Gin abruptly turns around and she involuntarily recoils. The feeling he brings up during their rare encounters hits her in full force. The captain of the 3rd division brings out all the survival instincts she honed in Rukongai. That telltale pricking sensation on the back of her neck. The feeling that someone is sliding a frozen knife along the inside of her scalp.

Gin takes the comb away from Rukia's unresisting fingers and gestures with his other hand.

"Now, turn."

"…Captain…?"

"Well you did mine. I'm returning the favor."

Rukia can only look on blankly, still kneeling. When an inkling of understanding clicks in, she jumps up, forgetting herself.

"Captain Ichimaru! I cannot possibly…! It's just…!"

A pale hand casually snatches her wrist and she nearly stumbles.

"Sure you can. And it's just fine. Sit."

Somehow, Rukia is whirled around and she finds herself sitting with her back to the captain – without any memory of getting there. The comb is already in her hair. She wonders how one can be so dazed and as taut as a bow at the same time. Gin's touch hardly feels like anything. If he had snuck upon her and put his fingers into her hair, she wouldn't have noticed.

[The snake had actually slid along her hand – she had felt a cold sting that ran to the top of her head. She had pretended indifference in front of her playmates – a childish pride.]

The comb brushes against a certain spot and Rukia flinches. The comb is gone immediately. Rukia turns a little. The corner of her eye catches Gin looking at a dried bit of blood caught between the teeth of the comb. Rukia is embarrassed and angered all of a sudden, as if he had invaded into something private, something she'd kept closeted. Then Gin gently tilts Rukia's head forward - his hand pushing her hair aside. A finger taps at a red welt hidden underneath, above the nape. Rukia directs her suppressed shudders to the tight squeeze of her balled fists upon her lap.

"What's this?"

"It's… from hair pins."

[Beautiful and expensive things, as befitting a noble household. The woman 'assigned' to Rukia still persists in weaving those ornaments into her hair every morning. Rukia has not dared to ask her to stop.]

"Ah, naturally they would fuss about their young lady's hair at Kuchiki household."

"I… take them off during training. They keep getting…dislodged."

"They obviously do a bit more than that."

[The things weigh down on her so that she cannot lift her head properly for the first few days. The elegant edges prick and chafe at her. When she couldn't stand it, she had pulled one off and was surprised to see blood staining the sharp end.]

Rukia bites down on her lower lip as that mild coldness traces the sore spot again. Gin murmurs as he picks at the remaining flecks of dried blood.

"All things come with their own stings, don't they?"

Rukia is somehow ashamed, without knowing for what or for whom. She feels compelled to make some sort of defense.

"… I cannot seem to be able to handle them very well."

There's no reply to Rukia's small utterance as Gin pats down her hair to cover the wound. The comb is back again but the teeth do not graze the skin beneath. The shade has dried off her sweat. The comb coaxes all the stray strands into place – like a soft hand lulling a kitten to sleep.

[Of course, she cannot put the pins back by herself once she has taken them off. The look the household gives when she returns with her head bearing nothing. The words they don't say. The back of the man she calls her brother tells her nothing.]

"I suppose they don't know what to do with me."

The air she inhales is a block of ice in her throat. She couldn't have said that aloud. Perhaps she didn't. There's no reaction from the figure behind her. Then the comb leaves her and a hand lightly runs through her hair a few times.

"Well, as long as you know what to do with yourself."

Suddenly, the voice feels a lot closer. The whisper tickles that sensitive, hidden spot above her nape and sends a jolt along her spine like a warning.

"... Or others will soon find out what to do with you."

A light pat on the head, then the hand and the voice move away. Yet Rukia doesn't dare move. Then she manages to let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Rukia manages to turn and see Ichimaru Gin already standing, looking down at her with that inscrutable smile.

"I'll be off then, Rukia-chan. Do take care of yourself."

She merely stares as the captain walks off. She only realizes that she has not made a proper reply when she manages to get up, much later.

Rukia puts the faint pricking at the back of her head and nape down to her imaginings. Probably due to her previous 'meeting' with Captain Ichimaru. Hours later, Kaien points out the thistles woven into her hair. Kaien says that the blue-violet flowers actually look quite beautiful that it's almost a pity to remove them - if it weren't for the thorns.