Pale early morning light slipped through the curtains and fell over the figure of the woman sleeping in the middle of the bed. The shadow of a tall man lingered by the doorway, one hand clutching at the wooden frame as he stood halfway out, his face turned sideways so that his profile was still visible from inside the room.

Ichigo's gaze hovered over Rukia's form. Half-buried beneath his sheets, he could see the ivory trail of skin where the blanket ended and gave way to her shoulder. Turned sideways, her midnight-colored hair spilled over the pillow and across the milky white skin of her cheek and neck. Her arm was stretched out over the empty side of the bed, where the tell-tale wrinkles on the sheets betrayed the knowledge of another body having lied there not long before. The clock sitting atop the nightstand read 6:02am.

Ichigo's eyes flashed back to Rukia's face. With her eyes closed, her long lashes cast shadows over her rounded cheeks -still carrying a rosy hint that refused to entirely fade away-. Her slightly swollen lips were parted as she breathed evenly, and there was the smallest hint of a crease between her eyebrows, as if she were having a troubled dream. He had to close his eyes to fight the urge to go over to her, brush the hair away from her face and press a kiss upon her brow, telling her that everything would be okay, that there was no need to worry.

But if he did that, she would surely wake up; and if she woke up, he would have to hear the goodbye upon her lips, face what he didn't want to face.

So it was with great effort that he tore himself from the scene, turning away to leave before the voice that he had both been dreading and yearning for reached his ears.

"Ichigo."

Her voice was still hoarse from sleep but clear as she called him. He stopped with his back turned towards her, feeling the strength of her gaze but unwilling to meet it even as he listened intently for her words. There was a long pause that seemed to stretch on for hours, when everything was terribly still as he waited with his head hung low, eyes on the ground; then she spoke.

"I'll see you soon."

His head snapped up at that.

"Ah," he started, feeling lighter than he had all morning.

It was no goodbye. He turned his head a fraction, just enough to meet her expectant violet gaze.

Feeling the corner of his mouth twitch, he said, "See ya', Rukia."

He turned away then, but not before seeing the curl of her lips that he recognized as her understanding of the promise laced between his words.

Then he was gone.

-x-

Ichigo groaned, his body still aching from the uncomfortable plane ride as he followed the crowd filing out of the gate after landing. Shifting the duffle bag that was his carry-on item on his shoulder, he made his way along the rest of the passengers to baggage claim.

The process was mechanic as he went through the motions then found his way out to the front of the airport where he had been instructed to wait for whoever was supposed to be his guide for the next few days. He stood among a crowd of others, the people around him soon rushing to meet with friends, family and lovers, all happy to be reunited. He watched the different, simultaneous spectacles occurring with a detached kind of nostalgia, some part of him envious of those others.

He was snapped out of his inner musings by a voice that made the fine hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

"Long time no see, eh Ichigo?" the man spoke behind him. "Hope ya' didn't think I'd abandoned ya'."

Ichigo turned and faced the grinning, silver-haired man. He felt the crease between his eyebrows deepen and his eyes narrow before he spoke in a tight voice. "Ichimaru."

"Ouch, so formal!" Ichimaru complained, though the smile never wavered from his mouth. "We'll be seeing a lot of each other in the next few days, no need to be so cold, Ichigo."

He had to suppress a shudder at the mere thought of spending more than two minutes with the fox-faced creep, let alone three whole days. His eyebrows scrunched up further -if that was possible- in distaste at the prospect. He was sorely tempted to tell the man to run back to whatever circus he had come from and leave him to find his way around on his own devices, but he held his tongue for two reasons: one, he would waste a hell of a lot of time that he couldn't afford if left with nothing but his own mediocre navigational skills; second, he had bigger worries. Like the fact that Aizen had not sent just anyone, but his own right hand man to keep watch over him.

Indeed, Ichigo had bigger problems than dealing the overall oddity of Ichimaru's character… But as he found himself sharing the confined space of the back of a cab with the man only minutes later, while he whistled an inappropriately cheery tune, he really had to wonder about that.

It didn't take him long to conclude that, regardless of how things went, it would be a long three days ahead of him.

-x-

"Feeling lonely yet?"

A familiar voice broke Rukia's concentration from the computer where she had spent a fairly impressive amount of time diligently typing away. She spun in her chair to look at the woman responsible, who seemed appeared entirely at ease with the prospect of cutting into her coworker's time for no good reason.

"Rangiku," Rukia raised an eyebrow at the older woman. "What are you talking about?"

"Why, Ichigo of course!" the blonde responded a little too exuberantly, making her rather generous assets get dangerously close to spilling out of her v-neck top, much to the interest of many male coworkers in the vicinity. Rukia, on the other hand, was preoccupied with fighting the urge to duct tape the woman's mouth.

"Not so loud!" she hissed, eyes widening significantly.

"Oh right," Rangiku waved her hand as if warding off an annoying insect. "Hush, hush stuff, don't want the big guys upstairs to get wind of the action going on down here." she winked without a sign of discretion. "Your secret is safe with me."

Spinning back to face her desk, Rukia settled her elbow on the surface and promptly slammed her forehead against the palm of her hand. "I feel so much better…"

Blissfully oblivious to the sarcasm in her words, Rangiku giggled and parked her behind on the edge of Rukia's desk. "No need to thank me." she said brightly, before focusing her azure gaze on her raven-haired friend again. "So?"

"So…?"

"Do you miss him?"

Rukia lifted her head and blinked, her eyebrows slanting. "Wha-? He just left today!"

Rangiku swung her legs lightly, unperturbed. "He'll be gone for three whole days."

"Three days is hardly a long time." she said flatly.

"It is when you're used to seeing him every day." the buxom blonde replied in a knowing manner. "It's always dreadful to be separated from your loved ones."

Rukia shifted uncomfortably, beginning to sense a slight change in the woman's demeanor. Was she imagining that glassy sheen in her light eyes? "Who'd miss that idiot anyway?" she scoffed, crossing her arms a little too tight over her chest. "It's only for a little while." she added quietly after a moment, not sure for whose benefit she was speaking then.

"Ah," Rangiku's eyes became downcast; the movement of her feet seized. "Just for a little while." she repeated in a mumble. An instant later she shook her head slightly and the air around her returned to that of the cheerful woman of a few minutes prior. She spoke with just the slightest bit of excess perkiness. "At least you know he'll be back soon."

That struck a chord within Rukia. She swallowed thickly, moving her eyes to stare at the document on the screen with a blank gaze. "Mm."

A long moment passed in silence as each woman became lost in her thoughts, until Rukia cleared her throat to speak again, straining her voice to sound as casual as it had earlier. "How did you even know about Ichigo leaving?"

Her question seemed to snap Rangiku out of her furor, the blonde quickly blinking herself back into character. "Oh, I heard Momo telling Mr. Hitsugaya about it. She's Mr. Aizen's assistant now, you know."

"Uh huh," Rukia nodded numbly. "Did she happen to mention anything else, by any chance?" she asked without looking at Rangiku, hoping to keep her tone light.

Rangiku shrugged. "Just something about Mr. Aizen hoping this will be a hard-hitting story, or something." she shifted her eyes to the side before adding, "And I think she mentioned that his old partner was also supposed to be going."

Rukia's brows knit a little closer. "His old partner?"

Rangiku nodded before turning to her. "Yeah, you met him before, I think; at the Christmas party. Gin Ichimaru."

A chill ran down Rukia's spine with the instant recognition of that name. She had only met the man twice before, but something about him had unsettled her from the moment she saw him, down to her very core.

Her hand twitched towards the cell phone sitting on the desk, but she hurried to bury the urge, knowing that at that point, the message would do more harm than good. "Oh. Right…"

Inspiration failed her as she tried to find more to say; luckily for her, she was saved by the bell but a second later by-

"MATSUMOTO!"

The buxom blonde snapped out of her stupor and into attention in a heartbeat, jumping off Rukia's desk and raising her hand to her forehead in a salute. "Yes, sir!"

The shock of white hair that could only belong to one person appeared around her cubicle a moment later. He groaned, rubbing his temples as if to ward off a headache, which, Rukia didn't doubt, was most likely the case. "Stand down." he muttered.

Rangiku relaxed instantly, her previously shocked features melting into a sheepish grin. "Mr. Hitsugaya… Out of your office so early today? What brings you about?"

The petite man shot his employee a teal glare. "I came to relay a message. I should be asking what you are doing here, Matsumoto."

"Eh," the woman blinked. "Me too! Relaying a message." She nodded seriously. "I'm finished now, so I'll be going because it is no time for anyone to be wasting time mingling about! See ya'!"

She was gone before the undoubtedly sharp remark left his open mouth. Rukia shook her head, marveling at the woman's ability to maintain any steady job with her behavior.

"That'll have to wait," Mr. Hitsugaya said under his breath, just loud enough that she could hear. Evidently, he was comforting himself with the prospect of the woman's atonement. He turned to Rukia with a resigned look. "Ms. Kuchiki,"

"Yes?" she asked uncertainly, unused to being addressed by the white-haired young man.

"Mr. Aizen asked me to tell you," he spoke mechanically, though there was the slightest scrunching up of his eyebrows as he did. "He wants to see you in his office."

-x-

The ride to the hotel had been quite possibly the longest twenty minutes of Ichigo's life. He all but leaped out the moment the cab pulled up by the flashy entrance, desperate to get some breathing room between himself and the fox faced man.

Now, he thought, he sort of missed the cab. Sure, the backseat may have been more confined, but there was something infinitely more disturbing about sharing a hotel room with that man, large as it may have been. Not to mention that, discomfort aside, it was rather inconvenient placement given the situation at hand. He would have to make do anyway, somehow; he didn't owe it just to himself anymore.

He reminded himself of this as he sat on the right-side bed -the one closest to the door- and leaned back against the headboard. His gaze strayed over to the nightstand separating both beds and the black cell phone resting on top of it.

Certainly, one message wouldn't hurt…

Ichimaru quickly cut that train of thought off as he emerged from the bathroom, weasel-like grin placed firmly on his features. "Nice place, ain't it?"

Ichigo gave a noncommittal grunt and diverted his eyes to the glass window overlooking the nearly empty pool in the back of the hotel. It might have looked enticing on any other day, with crystalline water, the sunlight glinting off the turquoise surface and the scent of chlorine and sunscreen filling the air. Today, however, the clouds were thick in the sky and the whole area had gained an uninviting gray hue, heavy with the promise of rain: effectively scaring off any potential swimmers.

Ichimaru must have followed his line of sight because, a moment later he said, "Shame the weather's been so bad. Now we'll hafta' focus on the boring stuff."

Ichigo cast a sideways glance at his current roommate. He waited in silence for a minute, but the perpetual expression didn't falter on the other man's face. Finally, he turned to him fully and spoke. "So when are we supposed to start with this?"

"Oh, you can relax for now, Ichigo." He batted his hands as if to calm him. "They're holding Ginjou's trial tomorrow at noon. We don't have any work 'til then."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed, before he exhaled sharply and got to his feet. "I'm going to look for someplace to eat. I'll be back later."

For a moment, he thought that the silver-haired man would 'volunteer' to go with him, but his only reaction was a slight nod. "Have fun!" he waved.

Ichigo grabbed his cell phone then was gone, not looking back once to see the smile slip from Ichimaru's features.

-x-

"Mr. Aizen?" The short, dark-haired woman emerged from the slight opening of the door into the well-polished office. "You asked for me?"

"Ah," the light reflected off the brown-haired man's glasses as he looked up. "Ms. Kuchiki. I did, please have a seat. Close the door behind you, would you?"

Rukia paused halfway into the office to turn and reluctantly do as he asked, before moving back towards him and taking a seat across his desk; the same position she had been in during her interview with Mr. Ukitake what seemed like a lifetime ago. She had been nervous then, hands fidgeting on her lap. Now her heart pounded heavily in her chest again, but she made it a point to let her hands rest easily on the armrests as she met this man's brown eyes.

"How are you, today?" He asked, smiling in a way reminiscent of a kind uncle. "Not working yourself too hard, I hope."

She swallowed, before placing a practiced smile on her lips. "Not at all. I am well, thank you for asking."

"Glad to hear it." Mr. Aizen's eyes crinkled for an instant as his smile widened, before his expression became placid again. "You have been doing a fine job for this newspaper, Ms. Kuchiki, even if you haven't been with us long."

Rukia nodded, willing herself to keep her wariness unnoticeable as she held her own smile. "Thank you, sir."

"I understand that Jushiro had placed someone to aid you on your way to becoming part of Seretei." He went on, and she couldn't help the slightest hardening of her features at hearing him mention her previous boss by his first name. "Kurosaki, am I correct?"

Rukia felt her pulse speed up, but she nodded casually in response. "Yes."

Mr. Aizen nodded as well, as if he was confirming it to himself, despite the fact that she knew he was very well aware already of the situation. "I suppose you are very grateful to him, it seems his work had its reward for you."

She kept her eyes unwaveringly on his without answering, each second of silence marked by the imaginary ticking of a clock in the suddenly tense atmosphere.

"Forgive me," He was the one to break the moment, easing himself back in his chair. "It is not my place to pry into that. You will have to forgive the whims of a curious man."

She pressed her lips into a tight line, suddenly unable to stop her eyes from straying towards the closed door over her shoulder. "Mr. Aizen…"

"Yes," he continued before she could. "I know that you must have things to do, I do not mean to keep you long. I only wanted to ask something of you."

"What is it?" She immediately berated herself for the sharp quality of her words, though the man did not react to it in any visible way.

"Tomorrow night there will be a business dinner with some colleagues of mine, and there will be some associates from other prominent newspapers present." He spoke while watching her, as if gauging her reaction. "I believe it might come as very beneficial for you to meet with them. You are merely at the beginning of your career, Ms. Kuchiki. I see much promise for you in this world, and I am willing to provide for you the opportunity to blossom fully."

Rukia could only stare. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of suspicion and alarm, and -to her great shame-, a flutter of hope. There was a fleeting moment of the excitement that came with the opportunity that she was seemingly being offered, but she quickly shook herself off that brief fantasy. "I… I'm flattered, Mr. Aizen. That you would think of me for this chance…"

"Oh, think nothing of it, Ms. Kuchiki." he waved her off. "I am happy to do this for a person of your obvious dedication and talent. In fact, this is much less a favor as it is self-indulgence on my part."

"R-Right." A stutter escaped her self-control and she would have been angrier at herself if she hadn't been so busy running down her mental corridors looking for a way to escape the sudden turn of events. "It truly is an honor, sir, but…"

"Ah, I see." Mr. Aizen cut her off, and she immediately stilled. "You feel inadequate, yes? I assure you, I have thought this through and out of everyone working here at the Seretei, it is you that has earned this chance. If you are worried about what others will say-"

"No!" she interrupted him this time, leaning forward in her seat a sense of urgency overtook her words and posture. "No, it's not that at all! I…"

"Rukia," Mr. Aizen cut in with a velvety voice, making a shudder run through her at the sound of her name on his lips. "Do you think so little of me that you would believe me so insensitive as to ignore the worries of my employees? Rest assured, that there is no need for news of this to spread out. The last thing I would wish is for you to feel uncomfortable here."

The irony of his words rang within her as she shifted again, clenching her hands into fists as she maintained her neutral expression.

"Now, I know that a young professional woman such as yourself would not be willing to ignore an opportunity such as the one I'm presenting." He went on, meeting her eyes. "Think of what young Mr. Kurosaki would say if he knew that his work was going to waste."

Rukia's breath caught in her throat at the mention of Ichigo in that instant. Her eyes widened involuntarily and she thought she could imagine that ticking clock again.

"A business dinner, you said?" She swallowed against the hoarse quality of her voice, and held Mr. Aizen's eyes as steadily as she could manage. "Alright. What time should I get there?"

Mr. Aizen's eyes crinkled shut in a lighthearted laugh again. "Come now, Rukia! I pride myself in having been raised as a gentleman."

She only looked at him as she waited with an increasing sense of dread for his next words.

"I will pick you up at seven. Be sure to wear something… appropriate for the occasion."

-x-

Ichigo's mind was not where his body was.

A multitude of reporters and newscasters lined the sidewalk outside of the courthouse where Ginjou Kuugo had just been trialed, all of them shoving against each other in an attempt to move to the forefront of the crowd and maybe get their question to reach the soon-to-be-arrested man from among the myriad of others. Ichigo, however, merely stood there with his notebook open to a painfully blank page with his eyes staring right past the scowling criminal into something no one else could see.

There was something gnawing at his consciousness, like the feeling of knowing you forgot something but not knowing what. Normally it would only serve to be terribly annoying; today it made him deeply anxious. His hand constantly brushed the fabric of his jeans' front pocket, where the rectangular-shaped protrusion betrayed the presence of his cell phone, only to come back down to his side where he would repeatedly clench and relax it. He was so deeply wound up in his own thoughts that when he felt a hand clamp over his shoulder, he very nearly jumped right out of his skin.

"Whoa! Didn't mean to startle ya'." Ichimaru's voice spoke from behind him. The man patted his shoulder before letting his hand slip away. "Ya' seem a bit distracted today, huh?"

Ichigo muttered something along the lines of "whatever", but otherwise didn't bother responding; though somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should have been scolding himself for having let himself be caught so off guard.

There was a pause, before Ichimaru said, "Yer going to miss the good parts if ya' don't pay attention." His tone dropped a few decibels as he spoke: enough to make Ichigo spin around to face him with renewed interest. He narrowed his eyes and kept his own voice down to a deep grumble among the shouts of the eager reporters around them -all much too busy to pay attention to either of them- as he regarded the other man carefully, not sure whether he was imagining more meaning than there was in the his warning.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said." Ichimaru shrugged, his demeanor returning to normal -normal for him, that is- save for his slightly knitted eyebrows. Before Ichigo could press him further, he tilted his head and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. "If yer done here we can go now. No need to be wastin' time."

Ichigo's shoulders tensed, and he immediately snapped his unused notebook shut without sparing a thought to the story that he should have been covering. "Do we have somewhere to be?"

"Something like that."

Ichigo followed Ichimaru as he weaved himself out of the mob without a word, inhaling once deeply before steeling himself for whatever was sure to come soon.

-x-

Rukia stared at her reflection in the mirror while trying to ignore the feeling of her stomach twisting into knots. There was a nervous sort of anticipation building up inside her, not unlike the sort of feeling before a first date; except in this case, she knew nothing good could come of the evening.

She shook her bleak thoughts off and forced her focus on her appearance: she donned a simple yet elegant white dress that reached just below her knees, and a matching sweater to conceal her bare arms. She wore very scarce jewelry and had pinned her dark hair behind her head to complete her modest look for the night. She had avoided so much as a drop of make up in order to maintain an inconspicuous image, while still managing to make herself presentable.

It was, she thought, suitable wear for the night.

Her attention drifted from the image of herself and traveled behind her to the cell phone left carelessly atop her undone bed now. Silly and naive as it was, she couldn't stop a small part of her from hoping to see even a short message from the one person who she knew would be able to ease her nerves and clear her mind with just a rude greeting, or a careless remark. She closed her eyes and for a moment she could see his warm gaze and bright smile against a sunny backdrop, laughing as an unseen breeze tousled his vibrant hair playfully and he reached forward with one hand, fingers curled slightly, as if to thump her on the forehead.

Rukia opened her eyes and the image vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Pressing her lips into a tight line, she tore her gaze from the phone and looked back into her own determined eyes through the glass. She shouldn't be having such thoughts then, it would only distract her and she needed to be on her toes. One slip up tonight and she might very well be condemning the very person she sought to protect.

Without another look, she turned away from the mirror over her dresser and slipped into a pair of sandals, then grabbed her purse. Not a moment too soon, either; she caught sight of the alarm clock on her nightstand just as the glowing green numbers turned from 6:59 to 7:00. At that exact moment, a knock was heard from the front door, like precise clockwork. She shuddered at the almost eerie punctuality but quickly straightened her frame and fixed her features into a mask of neutrality, silently thanking her brother for years of training in that department, then crossed the short length of her apartment to open the front door.

He stood there, with his chestnut colored hair slicked back the way she had seen it during the Christmas party and his black-rimmed glasses once again missing from his face. She gulped at the sight of him: without the unruly hair and the glasses, the almost boyish quality of his appearance was entirely absent from his features. It seemed his rather impressive height and broad shoulders, along with the hard set of his square jaw were more evident than ever now.

She realized with a start that Sosuke Aizen was actually a very intimidating man.

"Good evening, Miss Kuchiki." he spoke in a voice that was low and smooth. She thought fleetingly that he sounded like a radio spokesperson, with his immaculate articulation and confident tone. "May I say, that you look lovely tonight."

Rukia did not allow so much as a twitch to shatter her polite facade and planted a smile on her lips before responding. "Thank you, sir. Should we be on our way now?"

"My, how eager." He chuckled, the sound carrying no trace of warmth in it. "No need to worry, the night is still young and I guarantee that there are is much excitement awaiting you this evening."

Her smile wavered for the briefest of instants. "I look forward to it."

They left without further ado then, Rukia following Mr. Aizen outside to the sleek white Mercedes parked right in front of the apartment complex. The air outside still carried the chill of winter despite the lack of snow, and the sky was uniformly gray. She looked upwards towards the heavens as she pulled her thin sweater closer around herself, a foreboding feeling pressing down on her chest as she walked around to the passenger side of the car.

Mr. Aizen pulled the door open for her and smiled down at her as she climbed inside, his eyes lingering on her for a second too long before he shut the door and went over to the driver's seat. "It looks like it might rain tonight." He commented casually as he followed her gaze out the windshield.

Rukia only nodded, saying nothing else as he pulled out into the street and they sped off.

-x-

Ichimaru had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since they had arrived back at the hotel room. The man had told their cab driver to bring them back here and as soon as they arrived he went straight for their room and planted himself on the chair at the small table in the far corner, not saying a word as he produced a notebook and started to scribble something, hunched over it and seemingly unaware of anything around him.

Ichigo wondered whether he felt relief of anxiety welling up inside him at this sudden change in his roommate's mood. Half of their stay away from Karakura was already over, and he should be wary for any eventuality any time now, but being basically ignored like this was not something he had ever anticipated. The crease between his brow deepened as he looked up from the nonexistent notes that he had taken of Kuugo's case and towards the silver-haired man, whose back was facing him from the other side of the room. Ichigo was currently sitting cross-legged on his bed and had various documents strewn around him, crafting the illusion that he was actually invested in his work rather than in carefully observing his companion; not that he truly needed to bother with it, as Ichimaru seemed altogether oblivious to his presence.

"Ya' know, yer not gonna make up a very convincing story if all ya' do is stare at me."

The man's words froze Ichigo, the pencil that he had been idly toying with going still in his grasp. He straightened up where he sat and kept his voice cool and even. "So you haven't been ignoring me after all." He didn't waste time trying to disprove his statement; whatever confrontation was brewing was inevitable anyhow. He saw no need to postpone it.

Ichimaru turned partially towards him, allowing him a glimpse of his profile: his lips curled up in the same emotionless smile as always as he spoke in a tone that could be mistaken for bemusement. "'Course not, Ichigo. That would defeat my purpose of being here, wouldn't it?"

Ichigo could feel the muscles in his arms and back coil and tense, the instinctive feeling of the fast approaching storm coursing through his veins in the form of adrenaline. "And what exactly is that purpose, Ichimaru?"

The fox faced man kicked back in his chair and faced him fully now. "Why don't ya' tell me?"

Ichigo wavered, his eyebrows knitting with something akin to confusion this time. The man had him right where he was supposed to be, didn't he? Whatever was about to happen was inevitable, why was he still talking in riddles, like the cat and mouse game was ongoing? It made him feel like he was missing something, and that made him unsure of what his next step should be. He masked all these feelings though, resorting to his preferred way of handling delicate situations.

"Stop screwing around with me." He all but growled out, moving to stand from the bed and rise to his full height. "What are you going to do now, Ichimaru?"

The silver-haired man seemed to assess him for a moment -however that was possible through his impossibly slitted eyes-, letting his chair rock back to all its four legs before standing up himself. He chuckled as he faced Ichigo. "You've got it all wrong."

Ichigo blinked, the statement shaking him from his previous confidence. Refusing to let this show, he glared at the man and kept up his bravado. "What are-"

"Yer missin' the point, Ichigo." Ichimaru interrupted, and just as suddenly, the words he had said to him earlier that day echoed in his mind.

"Yer goin' to miss the good parts if ya' don't pay attention."

He hadn't imagined the added meaning in those words. But what was…?

"Startin' to understand yet?" Ichimaru cocked his head to the side, still seemingly examining him.

And right then, Ichigo knew what the man was hinting at. The knowledge knocked on his consciousness as a cold feeling simultaneously began to numb his body. He didn't formulate the obvious answer, despite it being so close to the surface: he didn't dare to. He didn't want to face the consequences that it would entail.

"Ah, it seems ya' get it now." Ichimaru went on, still looking as much at ease as ever, even as Ichigo felt his head begin to spin. "This was never about you."

Of course it wasn't. That wasn't the way Aizen handled things; he knew that from experience. He had just been too stupid to realize it before.

"A distraction." He said the words, but heard them as if they had been spoken by someone else. The voice that left him was a flat and colorless echo of his thoughts; not grasping the actual meaning of what was being said.

Ichimaru nodded with apparent approval. "It was never a competition." he stated, like it was nothing but a mildly interesting fact. "Mr. Aizen never meant to fight against a mouse. In his game, it's always better to crush a spirit than to trample a mere pest."

Ichigo felt the floor being stripped away from under his feet and he blanched, realization finally sinking in without room for doubt. "He was just keeping me out of the way." His voice left him in a ragged whisper. His knees felt weak, and he had the nearly overwhelming urge to allow himself to crumple unto the ground and weep at his own failure, and at having ever held the childish notion that this was a battle that he could ever hope to win.

He did not surrender to either desire. Beating himself up wouldn't do anyone any good right now, and there was so much more at stake than his own pride or the need for atonement.

With renewed resolve, he raised his head and squared his shoulders, jaw set in unwavering determination as he said, "I'm leaving." Just try and stop me. The unspoken challenge lingered in the air, radiating from the burning in his eyes and his unrelenting posture.

Ichimaru's lips twitched, then he lifted his hands with his palms facing Ichigo. "It seems I can't stop ya' now."

Ichigo couldn't stop the momentary widening of his eyes at the easy surrender. He didn't stick around to question it though. With one curt nod, he acknowledged the man's unexpected good will and hoped to convey his gratefulness.

Then he turned and all but ran out, phone already in hand as he dialed a familiar number.

The silver haired man watched him leave with a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips.

"Hope ya' make it on time, kid. I never did."

-x-

Rukia stiffened as she felt the vibration from her cell phone travel from the purse, hanging on the back of the chair she was currently occupying at the long table in the private room that had been reserved exclusively for the night's meeting in the lustrous Hogyoku Restaurant. She glanced at either side of her but no one seemed to have noticed the slight disturbance, and she discreetly slipped her hand into the purse and pressed the button that stilled the alert.

"Indeed," Mr. Aizen carried on the conversation beside her. "Rukia here graduated only a year ago and she is already one of the best columnists we have at Seretei. Isn't that right?"

She looked up just in time to see the man staring at her, along with the expectant gazes of the other occupants of the table. "Oh," she quickly gathered her bearings and produced a demure smile. "I wouldn't go that far…"

"She's modest too." Mr. Aizen chuckled deep in his throat, giving Rukia a pat on the shoulder as, what she supposed should have been, a friendly gesture. The laughter soon died out but a calm smile remained on his lips as he kept his eyes on her a moment longer, before finally turning back to his colleagues.

The table consisted of a grand total of eight people, including Rukia and her boss. They were a strange group, she had decided from the moment she walked into the room and saw them all conglomerated at the same table; some looked uptight and composed -like stereotypical professionals-, while others looked like they were out on a probation period. To say the least, it was an odd mix, but she had not commented on it as she took her place on one of the remaining spaces and offered them all a cordial smile while Mr. Aizen introduced her.

"You seem to have adjusted well, Ms. Kuchiki." The remark came from the only other woman present; a dark-skinned blonde that looked like she had been ripped out of the pages of a catalogue, even in her conservative pantsuit. Her teal eyes were fixed on Rukia with only mild interest, and she appeared to be speaking to her more out of social obligation than anything else.

Nevertheless, Rukia replied as polite as ever. "Yes, people at Seretei have been very welcoming."

"I bet." That one was distinctly a man's voice, and it came from the one sitting directly across from Rukia. He had stood out from the very start because of his shocking, electric blue hair that, she later noticed, seemed to match his eyes exactly.

He had snorted as he spoke and his tone was clearly insinuative, but it wasn't the first time he'd made a snide comment like that one in the night. Rukia had already learned it was better simply to ignore him, though it was harder to do when she could feel his piercing eyes scrutinizing her from time to time, while she pointedly looked somewhere -anywhere- else.

Everyone else at the table followed suit in ignoring the man, whose name, if she recalled correctly, was Grimmjow, and continued the conversation with practiced ease. The subject of Rukia was quickly forgotten in the midst of other topics more familiar to the businessmen present, and for that, she was grateful. She never had liked being the center of attention, and the current dinner reminded her too much of similar occasions, years ago, when she had been obligated to accompany her brother to such meetings.

Another part of her, however, was a bit relieved at the familiarity of it all. She may have greatly disliked it, but this was a kind of social situation that she had spent years learning how to deal with, and she knew the protocol that needed to be followed. She could pass the time in an appropriate manner without breaking a sweat. And, more than anything, she was glad that the more sensitive subjects that she had thought would somehow be dealt with had remained, up until that point, untouched.

The more negative side of her brain reminded her that it was dangerous to allow herself to be lured into a false sense of security, but she had done her best to push those thoughts to the back of her mind. If she allowed herself to become paranoid, she would only give herself away more quickly. If anything, she needed to continue acting natural, at ease.

You have nothing to hide. She told herself firmly. Nothing at all.

"Don't you think, Rukia?"

"Huh?" she broke her mental chant to see that Mr. Aizen was once again speaking to her. "Uh," she hurried to amend. "Forgive me, what was that?"

"I was simply telling Mr. Cifer here, who doesn't believe in the efficiency of teamwork in a workplace, that it is always best to work as a unit." He explained. "It is like a clock: it cannot tell time if all the pieces are not working properly. Wouldn't you agree?"

Something about the way his flat brown eyes bore into hers as he said that, the not-quite-right tilt of his lips… It warned her that he wasn't really asking a question; he was expecting a single answer.

Removing her gaze from his unnerving eyes, she cleared her throat and answered, "Yes, I agree."

Mr. Cifer, an impossibly pale, dark-haired man seated to the left of Grimmjow, regarded her with cold green eyes. "The problem, Ms. Kuchiki," he started, in a voice that lacked any sort of inflexation. "Is that one cannot be sure to trust every piece."

There was nothing in his flat voice to suggest anything, but Rukia could feel the accusation in those otherwise empty orbs -chillingly still as they met her gaze-. Her mind failed to produce an appropriate reply to that, and she reached for a drink from the glass of water before her to compensate for her silence and hopefully stall while she thought up an answer.

The alert of a call chose that moment to start again, the vibrations rising audibly with increasing urgency. Ridiculously grateful for the interruption, Rukia set the glass back down with a slosh of the liquid inside and all but tore her purse from its place, rifling through its contents much too eagerly in search of the phone.

"Excuse me," she started, just as her hand enclosed around the device. "I have to take this." She began to slide out of her chair, frowning as her eyes made out the name on the caller id when she felt the weight of a hand on her wrist.

Before she so much as had a chance to reject the call and clear the screen, she felt the phone removed from her hold, and she looked up to find Mr. Aizen smiling placently as he casually pressed a button that silenced the phone then snapped it closed, turning to her. "Now, Rukia. It's rude to take a call at the dinner table."

She swallowed as she felt seven pairs of eyes fall on her at once. Reaching for the glass of water once more, her grip turned nearly white as she raised it to her lips, doing her best to control the slight trembling betrayed by the rippling water.

After taking a gulp of the cool liquid, she began to speak. "I'm s-"

"No need to apologize, Rukia." Mr. Aizen cut her off. "After all," he paused to take a look at the cell phone now in his hand, before returning his eyes to her. "We all make mistakes."

-x-

Ichigo cussed under his breath as he heard the sound of his call being once again disconnected.

"Damn it, Rukia." he hissed through gritted teeth as he brought the dial screen back on and made quick work of the familiar numbers. "Pick up the damn phone."

It had barely started to ring when he felt a shadow fall over him and a woman cleared her throat.

He turned to see a blonde flight attendant looking down at him sternly. "Sir," she spoke in a deceivingly polite voice. "All electronic devices must be turned off at this time." She glanced pointedly at the cell phone that he currently held against his ear.

"Right, I- damn it!" The curse escaped him as a mechanical voice told him that the device he had reached was currently unavailable.

The woman's eyes narrowed warningly and he had no choice but to begrudgingly lower the phone and shut it off, working to shove it back in his jeans' pocket in the crammed space where he sat. The flight attendant nodded approvingly before continuing along the aisle, and he was left sit back, arms folded as he looked out to the window on his left.

The sky outside was already beginning to acquire the rosy hues of sunset, and he felt his jaw tighten as he tried to avoid thinking of the amount of time left between him and his destination. The only thought that he allowed himself was, please don't let me be too late this time.

He shut his eyes as, after what felt like an eternity, he finally heard the awaited announcement echo through the small plane:

"All passengers please remain seated. Flight 162 from Kawasaki to Tokyo will now take off."

A/N: Troublesome chapter was troublesome. Lots of going back and forth between POVs, but it couldn't be helped. Not a lot of IchiRuki-ness either, but hey. We're nearing the end, it can't be helped. Oh and yes, for those of you who didn't notice: SoaG is almost finished. Two more chapters left at the most, maybe an epilogue, then that's it. *cue the sense of nostalgia creeping in on me*

As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed: SamanthaEscalante, Crystal, xXMadNinjaSkillzXx, xXSonamyloveXx, Luna21VW, Black Sun Upon An Icy Sky, mafiea, shnizlefritz, Mokimoki-chan, dArkAnge04, MN, HitsugayaLover99, chocobojockey16, wynnsy, KitElizaKing, Poisonfish, KurosakiCrystal18, chineschopsticks, MushroomNatsu, pamianime, Rukie Martinez, Kuroi-cho-tsuki-shiro, SuperRukia, 09ice, Shaybo27, dbzgtfan2004, Personal Riot, Cisusi, Mae Snapdragon, and TruantPony-

Going over your reviews, I'm afraid I enjoy them even more than you guys enjoy the story XD Haha, thanks as always for the support! Until the next chapter! (Made it to 20 chapters btw, yay!)