A/N: You have no idea how many times I went over this and tweaked and edited and redrafted it until I was happy it flowed well. Too much of a perfectionist sometimes...

Couple notes at the end, any questions then message me and I'll get back to you within the day, review please! So many favourites and alerts though, thank you all :))

Word count: 4,715

I'm so scared you won't like my hair.

Not the actual hair style, obviously, but what it represents.

What if you liked it before? When it was just a little longer than my shoulders and did the flippy thing that no amount of hair serum could control? When I was a couple inches shorter, my chest was a little flatter and I looked just a little more like your little sisters?

God, I've over thought this. But you've gotten older, and I feel a little older... And nothing's going to be the same. Because of my stupid hair.

But it was good for me. Because I've never cut my hair before, not even after Kaien. It was more of a way for me to get over whatever this was emotionally than having my own Britney Spears moment.

... I really hope you like my hair. And I really hope this girl who just happens to have almost the exact name as me whose ass I'm about to kick for turning me into a plushie doll that is unidentifiable as a specific animal (and who is crazy to think a cabinet is cute – it's a piece of furniture) isn't your girlfriend.

Rukia Kuchiki was sat on the roof of the mansion. Despite clearing away some snow before she sat down, the roof itself was pretty uncomfortable even when it was not frozen, and the night air temperature was dropping further; she was beginning to freeze underneath her thin, white, loosely tied robe, and her neck had goose pimples from her hair being tied up. She did not care though, it was her last night at home, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to see the moon for the last time before it was apparently covered up by the forest surrounding her new abode.

She huffed a breath out, and could see it rise up before her, her body warmer than her surroundings. She was scared, but she was not going to admit it to anyone. She was going to live with a beast tomorrow, but she was a Kuchiki. She would walk into that castle like she fucking owned the place because that's what she did. It's what she was good at.

She closed her eyes as a migraine began to pound on the inside on her skull and leaned backwards using her hands behind her as support.

"Someone looks stressed."

She didn't open her eyes as she felt herself be joined on either side by two other bodies of people she knew well. The one on her right placed a thick blanket over her shoulders whilst the other gently pulled her feet onto their lap and put them in a pair of slippers.

"I am, a little. But is that not to be expected?" Rukia responded, opening her eyes, and staring at the moon.

"To be honest, if I were you, I'd be running around like a headless chicken," Rukia looked to her right to see Rangiku swallow the glass of sake she had been holding and filling it with more from a bottle she had stashed inside her kimono.

"Nice imagery, Ran-chan," Momo sniggered, smiling laughingly at Rukia when she turned to her.

"Thanks, honey."

Rukia scoffed, shaking her head, and looked back up at the moon. "I do not know how I am going to cope without you two."

Momo drew her into a tight hug. "You'll be fine... wherever you are... whoever you're- erm, whatever you're with, if you ever have a chance to escape, we'll be right here when you get back."

"That means a lot Momo."

"And if you're not marrying Renji, can I have him?"

"Of course you can, Rangiku."

"Good to know."

There was a soft, collective sigh as the three girls stared up at the moon once again.

"... I really hope this monster guy doesn't eat you."

Abruptly, in retaliation at the comment, Rukia stood and made her way back down the roof to her room, a little more scared than she had been 10 seconds earlier. "Thank you for that."

"You're welcome!"

"Your two ladies maids and Renji Abarai will be escorting you to the castle. I have business to attend to, so I am not able to go with you myself. When I was at residence there, I saw a face who shall also be familiar to you; Kisuke Urahara. Treat the nobleman with respect."

"Yes, father."

"Be aware, they are more used to a... western kind of life there. It should not be surprising to you to be requested to dress and act in such a manner, which I am sure will be taught to you by the maids. Some characteristics of life there may seem alarming immediately, but do not let this be conveyed. Remember your heritage.

"Lastly, do not feel obligated to make any decisions that it appears they are influencing you to make."

Rukia looked up into her father's eyes, not something she often did, in surprise, whilst attempting to pull that one stray lock behind her ear. "What do you mean, father?"

It almost looked like he had a knowing smirk on his face for half a second before the Kuchiki stone was placed back.

"You shall soon see."

Byakuya gestured for a stable boy to help her upon her horse, the male she had had since she was young, a light brown named 'Sode No Shirayuki', and she gracefully climbed on, managing to make sure no skin was on show underneath the black kimono with silver obi she had adorned, the Kuchiki crest embroidered onto the sleeves.

"Goodbye, father."

"Good luck."

He turned, and without another glance, walked back into their house, knowing smile going unawares.

"We would have had a good life together, you and I."

They had been riding through the forest for hours that seemed like days, and Rukia felt as if Renji had yet to stop speaking. Reminiscing about a childhood she was certain he had dreamt about, seeing as she didn't become a noble until she was 10 years old, considering the marriage that had never come about, even at one point musing over the children they could have had together – and that he had promptly stopped talking about to offer Rangiku some water, when she had hastily tried to cover her laughter with an exaggerated coughing fit.

"Indeed, we would have."

"Despite all this, I would like for us to part ways as friends, Rukia," Renji looked at Rukia with an expression of graciousness, as if he were presenting her with a great gift. "I would also like you to be aware that, if you return before I chose another, I will gladly have you back as my fiancée, and then my wife."

"How good of you, Renji." Rukia stared resolutely ahead at the path before them, worrying that if she looked at him, her noble composure would break and she would fall off her horse in a fit of laughter. As it was, a smirk was pulling at her lips and her stomach was bubbling.

They rode in silence for a while longer, save for the horses' hooves and Rangiku and Momo's quiet muttering – no doubt last minute worrying about her – when it occurred to Rukia that this could be her last opportunity for some real information.

"Renji, I must ask. Do you know the reason for my father sending me here?" She was using her fake, shrilly, high voice, that she resolutely hated, but that all men seemed to melt at.

"Your father told me it was as payment for having him and his men remain in his castle for awhile," Renji answered, buying the buttery, fake speech.

"Does it not seem like a rather steep payment for a few nights in a huge castle where they could not have possibly troubled this monster if it was really as big as they claim?"

"I am merely repeating what your father told me. You would do better than to question him, Rukia. He is a trustworthy man."

Rukia nodded, and faced the road yet again. This man was even more stupid than she originally thought if he believed that ridiculous excuse.

"But... he and his advisors were speaking of it last night as I was leaving, and I did happen to catch a few of their words."

Okay... maybe not as useless as he could have been.

"And... what did they say?" It took Rukia a lot of effort not to sound as eager as she was to know.

"Just that you and he would suit each other well."

"He who?" she asked, a little too quickly.

Renji sniggered before turning to her to answer. "Why, the monster, of course. Which other he is there?"

"And this is where we leave you."

The gates were looming in the darkness, the sun behind them, in the progress of setting. Ahead, all that it seemed to be was night. There wasn't even any snow here to reflect light; they'd lost that when they had gotten past the first few trees of the forest surrounding them.

"Very well."

Rukia, Rangiku and Momo dismounted whilst Renji stayed upon his horse, and the three girls converged in a small circle.

"Stay safe."

"Don't get killed."

"If you get really scared, try and escape."

"If you ever get the chance to visit, we'll be right at home, waiting for you."

The farewells were brief, and it felt more like a goodbye forever than for a while. Rukia had a feeling that they believed this was the last time they would see her.

She took a deep breath, and said all that she need to. "Get married and have lots of babies for me."

They both grinned at her, Rangiku with sadness in her eyes and Momo with tears running down her cheeks. She pushed them around and away from her, waited for them to mount, and smiled in return to Renji's final nod of respect. She watched and waved by the gates until they were long out of sight.

By now, the sun had fully set, and she was alone.

Sode neighed, and nudged her shoulder, as anxious as she. She petted his nose a little, and whispered some comforting words in his ear, then pulled on his reins, tugging him closer to the gates. He did not hesitate, but his eyes were swinging around madly, on the lookout for any kind of danger.

Rukia did not immediately understand why until she herself looked at the gates; she could have sworn that they had been closed when she had approached them, but now they were being held open by two unmoving, well armoured statues. They looked like they had not moved in centuries... But she could have bet money they had not been there when she arrived.

Rukia took a quick stock of her surroundings before accounting it to distraction, and cautiously made her way through the archway, horse a couple steps behind her. She came to a fork that split into three directions, and could just make out the outline of a stable along the right path, which she took. She methodically set Sode up inside one of the stalls, desperate not to let her mind wander in her surroundings; she could barely see 3 feet in front of her, stuck in total darkness.

Breathing a little more deeply in an attempt to calm her erratic pulse, she left her horse behind her, and returned back down the path she had come from, and approached the fork once again, taking the path that lead straight ahead this time, a thin outline of a huge building drawn out before her. She walked for a little while, passing by perfectly sculptured lands and gardens until she found herself upon the entrance to the castle, her nerves tipping on the edge by this point. Her original plan of entering as if she was already mistress was far from her mind; she had never been anywhere as intimidating as this. The doors ahead of her were at least 10 times taller than her diminutive height, and the castle walls spread out on either side as far as she could see, decorated often with windows that were blacked out from the drawn curtains on the insides.

The only reason she could find eventually to go through the great, carved wood doors were the angry noises made by her stomach in protest at the lack of food. However, they were not closed as she was sure they had been when she had first seen them, and her attention then drawn away to the appearance of the rest of the castle; these were suddenly also being held open by statues.

Deciding a lack of food was at blame for these mad delusions, she went through the double doors and was just about to try and make out the completely black surroundings when there was a slam behind her.

The doors had closed, and the two statues that had previously been holding it open were now on either side of it.

Which just about made them the creepiest things ever.

Reluctant to turn away from them, she slowly drew herself back around to the pitch black hall – which had suddenly had its chandelier and candelabra lighted.

Rather than dwell on how they had been lighted – she figured if something had wanted to kill her, it would have by now – she took in her surroundings.

Her father wasn't kidding when he had said it was a more western culture than she was used to; there was no tatami here, only white and black marble floors and what looked to be hand painted wallpaper. The chandelier was golden, and though darkened, if it was lighter Rukia would have been able to see the painting on the ceiling more clearly. As it was, the noble woman already felt out of place among the gold tarnished walls and gorgeous rugs, the central sweeping staircase extending ahead of her and splitting into two on either side of the hall on the upper floor.

A particular painting caught her eye to the left of the grand hall, and she walked gracefully to where it stood over an ornate wooden table, lighted candles making the portrait look more like a vigil.

The picture was of a young man – very young. Younger than even Rukia – fifteen, maybe? – but who was beginning to gain a more mature face. His bone structure was striking, his nose was straight and his lips were fully. But it was his amber eyes she could barely look away from...

At least, until she realised what colour the hair teasing his upper eyelashes was.

She bit her lip to stop a laugh escaping, and her face contorted into one of incredulity. The hair was a ridiculously bright orange. Just like the fruit.

Possibly brighter.

Rukia was reminded of a time when Rangiku had accidentally slept in her blonde hair dye and had woken up to find it orange – but it was still nowhere near as neon coloured as this boy's.

She tried once again to be absorbed by his beautiful eyes, but was way too distracted by the hair, when she was suddenly saved from being torn between swooning and amusement when she heard a huge creak. Directly across from her, to the right of the entrance doors, one of a pair of double doors had been opened by a statue from before.

Unnerved but determined not show it, Rukia walked across the hall to the door; she didn't have much choice by the time she got there – considering she felt like she hadn't eaten in months and the smell coming from it was amazing.

After what felt like a 5 minute walk from one side of the hall to the other, she found that the door that had been opened for her lead to the dining room (rather obviously, once she thought about it).

At first, she took note of the table, tiny compared to the grandeur of the room, but still a gorgeous little thing, a beautiful almost red mahogany piece with gold trimmings and little hand painted decorations, covered almost to the brim in food.

And then she noticed the partially opened door half way down the wall to the right, a normal sized one in comparison to the other huge ones, that she wouldn't even have noticed if it hadn't been opened, with a statue – this one female – holding it open with her foot, whilst her hands held a large, ornate silver bowl with what looked like mashed potato in it.

Alarmed, Rukia looked around the room to discern whether there were any others, when she heard footsteps and a repeated "sorry, sorry, sorry..." under the other woman's breath. By the time Rukia, who felt as though she had been frozen, turned back around, the statue had gone, the door closed, and the creamy potato left on the only remaining gap on the table.

Fear was something Rukia did not often feel; she certainly wasn't feeling it now either. She was just too hungry. Still looking around herself in a paranoid manner, she sat at the table, and ate.

Within the first bite of what she was pretty sure was beef stew, warming her up when she hadn't even realised she was cold from the bitter winter outside, the fire she hadn't noticed before bringing feeling back into her freezing toes, she did not pay any attention to her surroundings. She simply ate for an extended period of time.

Eventually, after eating more than she thought she ever had before, her other senses returned to her, and fear began to settle in her stomach with her dinner for the first real time. She was considering why she possibly would have been fed; she worried she would be eaten herself in turn by this unknown monster she had been left with.

She stood from the table, leaving her napkin on her empty plate as her etiquette teacher had taught her, and made her way back out to the hall.

At a complete loss at what to do next, Rukia was about to embarrass herself thoroughly by walking around yelling "hello!" in a clichéd, echo-y manner when she heard a whisper to her left: "I'd go up the stairs and take the doors to the left if I were you."

She flipped around, her stomach dropping like a stone, but could not identify the speaker – until she looked to her left. The statue was still holding open one of the doors to dining room, but now had changed its position ever so slightly.

It was winking at her.

Finally acknowledging that the statues were not as stationary as she had originally hoped, one of her eyes twitched as she looked at the one that had spoken, using her impressive glare to dare it to speak again. Sadly for her ego, it did not. She did however take its advice, and went up the beautiful marble centre staircase, taking the left hand stairs when she had the opportunity, and entering the new set of corridors.

She walked for what could have been minutes, or hours. She did not see any windows during her journey, and had no sense of time; a clock would have been useless to her anyway, she had not known the time since she left her home that morning. She walked until her feet in her traditional shoes ached, until the sweat made her kimono stick to her back, and tendrils of hair escaped her intricate up-do. Only certain lights on the walls were lit, so she felt like she was following Hansel and Gretel's trail of breadcrumbs. Here and there she saw pictures on the walls, some of the same boy she'd seen in the hall, a few of him alone, others surrounded by what looked like his family. Time went on, and the more tired she became, the more she began to see things. She began to stop at pictures, and thought she recognised the scene from a memory locked away in the back of her mind, but only ever looked at them for a little more than a few seconds before passing on, too exhausted to pay full attention.

Eventually, the trail of lights ended at a long corridor, and she found a pair of double doors had been opened for her at the end of it. Caution thrown to the wind, she went inside and found herself in a bedroom. It had been designed for her, she could see, as she took a few steps in. Only the wall behind her did not have windows in it, the rest showed her that she was right at the end of a wing, and each had a small pair of glass doors framed with white doors that lead out to a balcony that stretched right the way around her room. The curtains framing the windows were violet, the floor was a gorgeous cream carpet that her feet sunk into even with her shoes on, but the main attraction she could see was the bed. It was set in the wall across from her, four posters, the same colour curtains on the frame, the white wood beautifully carved, inviting white sheets with a warm looking champagne silk comforter over it. Blearily tired, she barely had the strength to take off her shoes and collapse on top the sheets – clothes still on and hair tied up – before sleep took her.

When she woke up, her first thought was that it was pitch black. It took her a few seconds to realise that the curtains had been pulled around her bed whilst she slept, the blanket pulled on top of her, her hair taken out of its restrictive knot and brushed, and only the white, bottom layer of her kimono was still on her. She sat up, removed the blanket, pulled back the blackout curtain and put her feet on the ground. It was still dark outside, but the moon gave it some light. She felt drowsy as she walked to the doors a few feet away from her bed and pulled the latch on one of them, going out onto the balcony and leaning over.

The garden below looked ethereal. It had snowed whilst she had slept; everything since had been covered with snow, reflecting the light from the moon to give her a perfect view of her surroundings. Ahead of her was a gorgeous pond that looked like it went on for so long to the point she wondered if it was a lake, frozen and glacial, and there were flowers and trees she had never seen before, icicles hanging from branches but flowers still in bloom peaking above the snow fall. Beyond the frosty lake, she could see white fields, and no wall to restrict them. Soft flakes were still falling from above her in hypnotic swirls; the moon looked through a gap in the white clouds. The air was biting at her. Though it was beautiful, the temperature was bringing her down from her sleepy haze, and she shivered a little, her stomach muscles tightening in response. She walked, barefooted, from the door to the edge of the balcony running around the outside of her room to the waist-high wall to better see the details.

Then she noticed the figure sat at the edge of the pond, about 50 feet away from her.

She immediately felt magnetized toward it. Without considering how or why she knew where they were, her feet moved to her right until she found steps leading down to the garden level. Nothing else occupied her mind until she had walked across the snowy grass barefooted and reached her captor. She stood within arm's reach of him, but did not make another move.

It was stood at the very edge of the water; she found that closer, the body was that of a human's with an unnatural covering, a human male. He looked towards her, and she saw the terrible monster she knew had been told about. His skin was white bone with red outlines, his hair was long and down his back, a colour that was dimmed in the white glow from the moon, he had horns protruding from his head and he had to be at least 2 feet taller than her.

She took all this in calmly, until she looked into his eyes. The moment violet met amber, she was hypnotized.

And then she passed out.

"That could've gone better."

"Fuck you, Ishida."

He had managed to catch her at the very last second before she had hit the ground, and was now holding her rather awkwardly, not quite holding her whole weight, and still crouched on the ground, his left arm around her.

"Are you not going to pick her up?"

"I was getting to it."

He hesitated for a second more, worried for her reaction, then hooked his right arm beneath her knees, and kept his left supporting her back, unconsciously holding her closer to him than he originally intended.

He looked at his companion in distress.

"You don't have a clue what to do, do you, Kurosaki?"

"To be honest, I was expecting a screaming fit. That's what any other girl would've done."

"Fainting is still pretty damsel in distress-like."

"I've seen a faint. Yuzu fainted the first time she saw me like this. That wasn't a faint. That was passing out."

"What's the difference?"

"Yuzu's was from shock. This is a defence mechanism to cope with too much new information."

"Which makes her..."

"... Different."

The one named Ishida scoffed, and pushed his glasses up. "When did you get so corny?"

"When did you get so creepy? Dropped on your head too many times as a baby?" he countered.

"I am not the creepy one holding a girl that I've never met before in this situation. Which brings us back to the point: what are you going to do with her?"

"Uhh..."

He was saved by a figure leaning over the balcony that led from the new girl's room.

"Kurosaki-kun! If you put her back to bed, she'll sleep better!"

He turned back to Ishida again. "See? I'm going to put her back to bed."

"Good for you."

He shot his friend a look from over his shoulder as he carried the girl in his arms back to her bedroom.

The room already smelt of her from her few hours of hibernation beneath the silky sheets on the bed. He laid her upon the quilts that the maid had set to rights, and used this as his first opportunity to properly scrutinise her.

Her form reeked of tradition; she was sleeping, but she already looked like she had a pole constantly stuck up her ass – no surprise there, considering her father was exactly the same – and her face was pinched in discomfort.

She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He carefully pulled the covers over her, navigating his claws in the process, and watched the pinched expression relax as she warmed from the freezing temperatures outside.

He stood upright and watched a little longer, lost in the pink lips and individual eyelashes in her porcelain face until the maid – Orihime Inoue, one of the ones who had been with him from the very beginning, who had been the obvious choice for this job – quietly but audibly closed the patio door behind him.

"Don't. I'm going back outside." He told her over his shoulder. She smiled in return, opened the door a little, and pulled the curtains around the sleeping girl as he took a step away from her, blocking his view. Orihime wished him a good night, and went to retire, a sleepy but gleeful smile on her face as she left to go to her quarters.

He stayed a little longer, the absolute silence outside of the room allowing him to hear Rukia's soft breathing even through the material barriers, until he was satisfied, and left silently through the door back out to the garden, closing it behind him.

He spent the night guarding his new found jewel, whose name he did not even know yet.

A/N: I'm still not happy with this, so I'll probably go over it in a few months.

I was originally going to do Ichigo as a hollow when he's fighting the Vizards (vaizards? vizards?), but had not fully realised the implications of this, and so I've switched to what now seems like a much more obvious route of choosing Ichigo to be like he is when fighting Ulquiorra... Which, yes, now seems ridiculous that I didn't think of that in the first place.

I'm doing a lot of coursework and revision right now (screw you, Shakespeare.) so I'm bumping updates to once a month until about half way through January, as then resits and work will be handed in, and I'll go back to the original plan of every other week. I'd like to do it like that - it's just not possible at this moment. Sorry.

I hope everybody has a good November! Till next time :)