A strange side effect of spending so much time in feline form, aside from a love of milk and a dislike of cloths was that when Yoruichi was happy and content she purred. As the moment she was very happy and content and so, lying against Urahara's chest, she was purring. At the moment Urahara was very happy and content as well but not so inclined to purr, in fact he had no idea how Yoruichi could do it. Frankly Yoruichi had always baffled his mind. When she stretched under the sheets and nuzzled her head against his chest before going back to purring happily, he decided it didn't much matter how she did it, just that she did it at all.

Someone knocked on the door. Yoruichi hissed before burying herself further in his chest. Urahara sighed, hoping whoever was the door would take the hint. No such luck as the knocking continued. Sighing regretfully he distangled himself from Yoruichi's embrace and stood up, pulling one of the sheets with him and stepping into the main room. He pulled open the door, only to have a list thrust at him before the deliverer vanished. He frowned and looked at it.

"Are they out of their fucking minds?!" Urahara screamed.

"And it's taken you how long to figure that out?" Benihime asked inspecting a nail, "your sheet's slipping."

Urahara snarled and yanked the 'garment' into a higher position. Now all thoughts of going back to sleep were gone from his head. He supposed they had gone behind his back after his outburst at the meeting. He knew it was silly to loose his temper but now, now well he wasn't going to be shocked if the Balance just told them to go fuck themselves and the world ended.

"What's going on?" Yoruichi asked sleepily emerging from the bedroom.

"They are out of their minds!" he bellowed, "I mean look at this!"

Yoruichi raised an eyebrow and plucked the list from his fingers, her eyes scanning over it. It was only then that Urahara realized that she was displaying her dislike for cloths. Benihime gave a snort of disblief as all the blood that was pounding in Urahara's ears quickly went south. Yoruichi glared hotly at the list before crumpling the paper into the smallest ball Urhaara had ever seen and pitching it at his head. He ducked and avoided it.

"What the fuck are they thinking?!" Yourichi bellowed, "Kisuke get dressed we've got to go beat some sense into them."

"Okay," he nodded, following her back towards the bedroom, trying to remind himself why he'd been so angry a moment ago. She stopped and turned, looking at him, "what?" he asked slowly.

"We'll go beat some sense into them in a minuet," she said grabbing him and yanking him into the bedroom, slamming the door behind them.

"This works too."

Break

Aside from a slightly sprained ankle, cut throat and loosing a fair ammount of hair, the Winter War had left Soifon relatively unharmed—physically at least. As for the rest of her, that was quite a different matter. It was odd to think that such a short time ago she would have been sitting where she was wondering what Yoruchi was doing instead of now where she was sitting there wondering why she had ever cared. If she had been feeling reasonable she would say it was because Yoruichi, the person she was supposed to be willing to die for, had seen her as something other than expendable. Yoruichi had taught her how to survive, how to be somethign more than just a servant. For that she supposed she would always be grateful.

But she couldn't just hero-worship anymore. Not after seeing Hinamori, who loved Aizen for the same reasons, pull herself together and save them all. She doubted that Yoruichi was ever going to try to take over Soul Society but the fact remained that if she ever did, Soifon would be just as useless as Hinamori had been initially. Both as a person and as a Captain she knew she could not allow herself to continue as she had been. The world could not afford another war and she could not afford to contribute to it.

She had accepted her Captaincy because she knew the 2nd Division needed a Captain and she was best suited to the task. She did not believe she was holding the spot for Yoruichi but she did not truly believe that she belonged there either. After all, what place did little Shaolin Fon have being a Captain? She knew that the Shihon Clan looked at her with horror and disgust. After all, her purpose in life was to serve and protect Yoruichi and the heirs she produced, not take her position. Because Yoruichi was not there to take responsiblity the blame had fallen onto Soifon. Still she blindly loved Yoruichi, still she defended a woman who she should have hated.

And then, in the Winter War, she had been fighting and she had seen Yoruichi time and time again take stupid risks to protect the people she loved. To protect everyone but her. She would have liked to think that it was because she could take care of herself but regardless of the reason the fact was that she had heasitated. She had gotten her Vice Captain killed because she had heasitated. Oh she had gone and murdered the bastard who did it but it was her fault that he was dead. He was waiting for an order from ehr and she had been distracted by Yoruichi's actions. She knew that she could not continue as she had. So she had forcibly thrown out anything that reminded her of her former Captain and avoided the woman like the plague. She swore she would be 2nd Division Captain Soifon and that was all, not Yoruichi's lovesick protege, not anymore.

"I will fucking end you!"

Soifon gritted her teeth. Honestly she had never met anyone as, well, infuriating as Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. He just did not know when to stop. The other former Espada at least had some self control, he was like a big, dumb animal. She wasn't suprised he had gotten his arm cut off, hell she wanted to rip his head off half the time she was with him. It didn't help that he was the lowest ranking of the former Espada and should therefore be the most well behaved. But no, no he had to be the loudest, most disrespectful of them. Slamming her hands down she turned on her heel and marched towards the rooms they were in, too furious to think about using Flash Steps.

"What is with this racket?" she seethed slamming open the door and immediately regretting it.

The bastard was naked except for a towel around his hips, every other muscle was displayed perfectly. She could only see the ripple of muscle going down his back, the darker skin where his Hollow Hole had been. At the moment he was yelling at Ulquiorra who, judging from the water dripping off his hair, had been in the shower. The former 4th Espada looked almost comical standing there, wrapped in a towel, his black hair slick with water and glaring icily up at the former 6th Espada who didn't seem to really care all that much. Soifon was instantly glad they did not have their Zanpakto's with them, the last thing the Shinigami Women's Association needed was to get word of the two of them fighting in towels. She could practically see the photo book already.

"Captain Soifon," Ulquiorra said, not breaking eye contact with Grimmjow who stiffined at the mention of her name, "I apologize for the racket."

"Well?" she demanded glaring at Grimmjow's back, praying that the head in her face was just that of the steam in the room.

"Well, what?" he demanded turning around, his eyes blazing. She glared only this time it had much less effect considering his animosity towards the former 4th Espada seemed to be far more important.

"This is the 2nd Division," she hissed furiously, "the stealth Division," she continued, "you are being too fucking loud."

"Huh," Grimmjow stopped, "what happened to your neck?"

"What?!" she stopped when his question reached her brain and one of her hands touched the skin of her neck, feeling the wetness there. She had been too hot to wear the bandages but now she thought it was probably too soon to take it off, "nothing," she snapped dropping her hand, "old cut from one of your bastards who didn't survive the war."

"Thanks to you I imagine," Ulquiorra said.

"Yes of—" she stopped as a broad chest blocked her view.

Grimmjow was towering over her, his eyes boring into hers. Soifon looked up at his eyes. He wasn't leering, not exaclty, but rather it seemed like he was sizing her up. Like one warrior would to do another. He obviously already knew she could and would kick his ass. The two crests on his arm were proof enough of that one. Most men were rather put off by the fact. He seemed not to be. In fact, he seemed rather, well, turned on by it for lack of a better word. Even though she had to look upwards to meet his eyes she did so with enough anger blazing through her own to let him know she wasn't happy about it.

"You must really have a death wish," she snapped.

"You're blushing," he smirked.

"Its not my fault you left the hot water running," she snapped, "though I doubt a 'cold shower' would make a difference in your case."

"Is that a challenge," he purred looking down at her. She placed a hand on his chest and shoved, sending him sprawling backwards before flashing over to him and placing a foot squarely on his chest.

"I try not to waste my time fighting people I know I ca—eep!" the shriek was far too girly for her liking but she found herself suddenly on her back, their positions reversed except his knee was resting far lower on her abdomen than it had any right too.

"You were saying," he asked cockily.

"Get that appendage off me before I humiliate all of womankind by making you one," she seethed.

He smirked and suddenly his hand was in front of her. She glared at him and used Flash Steps to get to her feet before he could blink.

"You've made your point," she snapped, "now lets see if you can back it up, get dre—"

"Attention Captain Soifon!"

"Mother of—" she glared at the summons.

"Report to the Central 46 Chambers immediately. Escort the two male Espada."

She glared and turned to face Grimmjow and Ulquiorra.

"Get dressed!" she barked. They both hurried to oblige her as she walked out, slamming the door behind her.

A few moments later they were out and dressed and walking towards the Central 46. Soifon tried to fight back the bile that threatened to rise in her throat at the thought of going into the place of such a massacer and, thankfully, suceeded before pushing open the door and entering. Naturally most of the Captains, the remaining former drifters and the former Espada were all there. She took her place for the 2nd Division Captain and bowed her head in respect as the former Espada stood off to the side. It was like a knife through her, all the empty places that should have been full of people, of people who deserved to survive the war and yet could not.

"We have much to take care of," the Commander General rumbled looking at them, "Rukia Kuchiki," he called her forward, "I am over riding your brother's decision to keep you from being eligible to be a seated officer. Your division needs a Vice Captain who is capable and you are best suited to the task," he extended a Vice Captain badge.

"T-thank you, Commander General," Rukia said quietly accepting the badge and going to stand next to her Captian who smiled warmly which she returned.

"As for you," he looked a the former Espada, Chad, Ichigo and Orihime, "ideally we would train you but given your unique situation, and ours, there is no time. We are dispatching a team to Las Noches to retrieve information. If this is sucessful we will place you among the ranks of Shinigami for a probationary period. At the end of it you will be considered full Shinigami."

They all nodded.

"The team that is going to Las Noches will consist of you seven, Captian Soifon, Vice Captain Abarai, Vice Captain Mayuri, Third Seat Madarame and Captain Hinamori. It will be led by Captain Kuchiki and Captain Hitsugaya. I do not need to remind you of the consequences if you are caught doing any sort of traitorous activities," they shook their heads, "you are dismissed."

Ichigo nodded in relief and made a dash after Rukia. He saw the sadness and horror in her eyes and knew exactly what she was thinking. Between the two of them Byakuya and he had a talent for getting into large ammounts of trouble. He had a talent for it. He didn't want to though, he didn't want to go and die, again, not after having just found her. Dying had sucked, seriously it sucked, he didn't think he'd ever forget that feeling. He knew, on some level, that he'd wind up in Soul Society, he just didn't expect to remember everything. But he did and he was grateful. He didn't think he'd get the chance a second time.

"Rukia!" he raced after her but she was quick, "Rukia, damn it, stop for a second!" his hand wrapped around her upper arm, "damn mid—" the insult died on his lips.

He could count on one hand the times he had seen Rukia cry. Hell she had been about to be executed and she hadn't cried. Now she was, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks and making her violet eyes seem even more jewel like than they usually did. For a moment they were frozen in time, just him and her crying. Then he yanked her against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she released her tears into the fabric of his shirt. It was the frist time that he had been able to hold her since his death and it struck him as odd that he never realized how perfectly she fit into his arms. She was short and he was tall, but it was still more perfect than he had thought possible.

"I can't loose you again," she sobbed into his chest, "I can't. Not to the Vizards, not to this," her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt, "I can't."

He knew that this was a big deal for her, that even after all they had been through there was a part of her that she kept closed off from him. He tightend his grip around her body and looked for somewhere more secluded they could go. He knew there was a path nearby that Hinamori and Ikakku had been sneaking around in their effort to avoid being promoted. He slipped an arm under her legs and got them there in record time. Ichigo found a rock and sat down, pulling her into his lap. Rukia continued to cry against him before her sobs finally slowed. She pulled back, obviously embarrassed but he tightened his arm around her. She raised her eyes to meet his and he gently wiped the tears from her face.

"Listen to me, you dramatic midget," he said, earning a watery glare from her, "you're stuck with me. You aren't going to loose me. Not to this stupid mission, not to the Vizards, not to all the Kuchiki elders okay?" she looked down and he gently hooked his fingers under her chin raising her face to meet his, "I told you then, I'll tell you now," he glared, "I'm not going to listen when you say stupid shit like this."

"Ichigo!"

"I fucking died Rukia, I died and I remembered you. I'm going to go and find a cure for this—this Vizard thing and then I'm going to go and demand—yes demand, that your brother lets me marry you and then the whole of Soul Society can take their self-rightousness and shove it because I swear to whatever you swear to here that I will come back and when I do I'm going to spend every second convincing you that become Rukia Kurosaki is a fucking brilliant idea."

"It'd be your first," she muttered.

"Which is why I need you by me," he replied before realizing what he said, "are you blushing?"

"Well I—of course I am you idiot! You don't just go saying things like that to people!" she glared at him, the effect dampened by the tears in her eyes and the redness of her cheeks, "what am I supposed to say to that huh?"

" I don't know," he sputtered, "your supposed to think of it!"

"I love you."

The simple comment blew him away. Of course he knew that she did and had for some time but she said it, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his cheek. She repeated the sentiment as she kissed him, the boldness of the action making his head spin. She trailed kisses across his cheek and heasitated at his lips.

"I am in love with you, Ichigo Kurosaki, and becoming Rukia Kurosaki would make me very very happy."

Then she kissed him.

Break

She was going to Las Noches.

She was going to the place that Aizen had left her for.

She was going to his home.

Hinamori moaned and buried her face in her arms, hoping against hope that it would all be a horrible memory when she lifted her head. But then she remembered Gin's screams and Hitsugaya's sobs and the thought of her friend never getting her happy ending and she somehow found the strength to raise her head. Why did they think it was a good idea for her to go to Las Noches? Even now she could barely remember what had happened in the battle from all the adrenaline that had been coursing through her. She had loved Aizen, much in the same way that Soifon had loved Yoruichi. He was the first person who had, in her eyes, seen her as something other than "Stupid Bed Wetter Momo". She hadn't even known she was capable of killing him until the agony had seared through her arms.

She walked over to the bathroom and let her shirt drop, revealing the burns in their entirety. They were rust colored now and probably would fade but always be there, always a reminder. She clenched and unclenched her fists, watching the skin pull with a kind of detached fascination. She had never really considered herself beautiful before so it wasn't as though she mourned the loss but still, it seemed odd to see her hands in such a state. She was lucky it wasn't worse frankly, Unohana had kindly told her that her mobility might be compromised but so far that hadn't happened. Sighing she pulled her robe back up and walked into the room and picking up Tobiume. The hilt of her Zanpakto still bore stains from where she had gripped it tight enough to draw blood. It seemed like it had been so long ago.

Unable to stay in the room a second longer she walked out and headed for the Fourth Division. She wasn't sure why she cared about how Gin was doing but she knew that no-one else would. No one else would see that he was not a traitor, not anymore. He had changed the world for Matsumoto, he had saved them all for her and now she was gone. She knew her burial would be soon. She knew that even if she called him "Gin Pig" and even if she preteneded to be over him, Matsumoto loved Gin Ichimaru very deeply. She knew that for that reason, if no other, she owed it to her friend to see how he was doing.

Sneaking into the Fourth Division wasn't that hard. Even in her depressed state she was a highly trained Soul Reaper. She had spent hours wandering the corridors, her eyes wide and unfocused but somehow taking in every exit, every entrance. She knew that at the moment a certain set of corridors wouldn't be that full and would get her close to Gin's room. She knocked over a non-important looking shelf to distract the guards and slipped inside Gin's room.

He was standing by the window, obviously not in any kind of shape to do so. The robe he wore hung off his too-thin body, giving him an almost scarecrow-like apperance. His hair hung down to his shoulders and his dull ruby eyes were unfocused on the sight of Soul Society below him. He knew that she was there but he made no move to replace the unsettling grin or the slitted eyes that he was known for. In fact, he made no attempt to move at all.

"Are you here to make sure I'm not lying?" he asked, his lips quirking up in a ghost of a smile that seemed strange on his face.

"I believe you," she said softly, "you don't have a reason to lie to us anymore."

He looked away, having no response for that.

"No," he said finally, "I don't," he turned around and looked at her, something undefinable in his ruby eyes, "but before you run off to Las Noches," he began slowly, "did you ever think that Aizen would just let you walk in?"

"We know there are going to be traps," she said crossing her arms.

"That, Hinamori, is like saying you knew Aizen was going to be evil."

"Then why don't you help us?" she demanded, her eyes flickering with the power that even she did not know she was capapble of having. Gin arched and eyebrow, "you know that she believed you were good, you know that's why she tried to reach you even if it killed her," he said nothing, "and she knew you were evil," his eyes narrowed so slightly she almost didnt' see it, "she accepted everything you were! That's what she died for, not for us, not for all the other souls, for you! So that you could survive this war. She knew she wasn't going to make it, you were too good for that to happen but if you sit here and rot away than you're going to be worthless. You're going to be worthless and pitiful and you'll deserve whatever punishment they give you."

"I don't fear death anymore."

"Oh they're not going to kill you," Hinamori said bluntly, "they're going to put you in some dark cell somewhere and let you rot. They're going to heal you and make sure that you spend the next two thousand years remembering that a woman who was beloved by more people than you'll ever be sacrificed herself for you and you repaid her by letting people you should have been responsible for walk into their deaths!"

Slowly, ever so slowly, the grin that he had worn for most of his life appeard on his face as his eyes slitted, hiding their ruby color to the world. He no longer looked ill or weak but rather just thin. Part of her knew it was an act, part of her wanted to run as fast away as she could. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

"Dear me," he said with mock-seriousness, "that was a pretty speech, but you seem to be under the very mistaken impression that I know what the traps are," he continued, "the real question you should be asking yourself is who they are."

"Who are they?" she asked.

"How should I know?" he asked with a shrug, "Aizen didn't share everything with me."

"He shared a lot with you," she said, "think about it."

"Why don't you think about it?" he suggested easily, "after all, you aren't in this hospital room," he looked over his shoulder, "Aizen kept things in my office, I haven't cleaned it out and I highly doubt Kira has," he turned back to her, "start there."

"Fine, thank you," she said shortly turning to go.

"Oh I should tell you that you'll need a key," he called after her, causing her to stop and stiffen, "after all, Aizen wasn't trusting."

"What kind of key do I need?"

"I don't know," he said with a wave of his hand, "something with his Spiritual Power I imagine."

"Aizen's dead!" she burst out.

"Yes, I remember you killed him," he said, "pity, I'm sure he would have been very helpful in curing the Vizard," Hinamori felt her frustration build, "remember, with Aizen it was always a game. Just because he lost," his smile widened.

"Doesn't mean he's not going to want a rematch."