It was dark before he summoned her.

She didn't know what, if anything, she should read into that. She had half-expected him to come looking for her as soon as he got home and she'd made no plans as to what she would say. She didn't even know where she was going to go, but she couldn't stay. Of that, at least, she was sure.

In the end, he sent a servant. That too felt strange, but at least it meant that he had taken her seriously; he wasn't going to plead.

"Kuchiki-taichou requests your presence in the audience chamber," the man said, bowed and left.

It was with some trepidation that she entered the main hall of the mansion. It was a long, low building. Yet another empty space in a house full of absences. When she did though, she was surprised by the scene before her. Byakuya was standing to one side, his figure somehow more diminutive than it had been. His face was very pale. She guessed that he had been arguing.

There were two chairs set facing one another in the centre of the room and, in one of these, his grandfather sat, leaning heavily on a staff though she was certain she'd never seen him use one. His eyes flickered towards her from beneath his shaggy brows as she entered:

"Hisana-san, please take a seat." He gestured. She sat down and folded her hands in her lap. She had to weather this, one way or another. "I am a patient man," he told her: "And though you may think me callous, I care deeply for the well-being of my grandson. I was not initially inclined towards your union, but, at his request, I have turned a blind eye towards its obvious disadvantages. I have gone so far as to use the weight which my position, as a member of this clan gives me, to ensure that your match is approved by the authorities. In two days time, you will wed my grandson."

"I can't" –

He raised a hand:

"I did not give you permission to speak. You will be obedient and respectful, as befits someone who has been granted an opportunity so far above their station. You will be grateful" –

"Sensei." Byakuya stopped him and he glanced up, irritably:

"She should know, Byakuya-kun."

"I am not ungrateful," she said quietly.

"This is about family, isn't it?" Byakuya said, stepping forward. She had hoped he would be angry with her. Instead, he just looked confused: "Since we've been together, you've been cold with me only once, when I asked about your human family."

"Are you unable to bare children?" asked the old man bluntly.

"Sensei!"

Hisana felt her skin prickle under their joint gaze:

"I don't want a child," she said. She looked up at Byakuya: "But you do."

"Nonsense!" said his grandfather: "There's not one soul in Rukongai that doesn't yearn for the family it's lost." Before Byakuya could interrupt again, he spoke sharply: "You know nothing of human souls, Bya-kun, so don't presume to correct me. The people of Rukongai band together just as if they were families. Children find parents. Brothers adopt sisters. They play games of make-believe so they don't have to think about what they've lost. Am I wrong?"

"No, Sir," Hisana answered.

"Then what makes you so different?"

Byakuya spoke for her:

"She doesn't want a child, Sensei."

"So she is selfish."

"That's not it." Hisana looked up, but, when she spoke, it was to Byakuya: "I can't marry you because I'm not the person you think I am. I've lied to you. Many times." He stared at her, nonplussed, and she looked down, digging her nails into the back of her hand. Where should she begin? How much did she want to tell him? Now, at a time when she was bout to walk out of his life? Just the bare essentials. Just the things that would make it easier for him to let her go. "Byakuya-sama, I've visited Rukongai every day for these last three weeks. I went back to Seventy-ninth" –

"She already has a lover in Rukongai," said the old man. Byakuya's face blanched:

"No, she doesn't." He looked back at her: "You don't."

In that instant, she thought her heart broke. She might have had him believe that very lie were it not that he had turned to defend her without hesitation.

"I don't," she said.

"Why then, Hisana?"

"You rescued a girl from Rukongai; that's what you think. I know what you see when you look at me; she was helpless and kind and scared. But you never rescued me, Byakuya; everything I am is still back there. Whoever you rescued, she doesn't exist!" – She covered her face with her hands. They were trembling, but Byakuya took them in his own, forcing her to look at him:

"Hisana, this is a nonsense."

"I wanted so much to be that girl!"

"You are. You are no different from the day I met you."

"When you met me? I'd already ruined everything by then. I killed her, Byakuya, or worse; maybe she's alive and she's in pain" –

"Who? Who, Hisana?"

"My sister," she said in a whisper: "A baby. Just a baby. I hated her so much that I left her behind. How can you love someone who can hate that much?" she asked as he brushed the hair out of her eyes: "You deserve to have a wife and a child and I – I couldn't take care of a child! Look at what I did!"

"This is different. This would be our family."

"I had a family!" she cried: "Don't you get it? I had it and I destroyed it. She'd dead because of me" –

"No. You don't believe that," he said, his voice so assured that it stopped her in her tracks: "You believe she's still alive. Otherwise, why do you go to Rukongai?"

She took a deep breath. There were questions she had never wanted to ask, but she had gone too far to turn back now. And she had to know:

"Is it possible?" She looked up at him, eyes pleading: "I left her in a doorway. I thought somebody could pick her up, take her in.

"It's possible," said the old man behind Byakuya. His grandson moved aside to let him speak: "A child, you say, in Seventy-ninth?"

"It was in Seventy-eighth. I could show you the place."

"Hm. Life expectancy there is low, even for adults, but it's not impossible."

"How old was she?" asked Byakuya.

"Four months when she died in the human world. Six months when I left her."

Byakuya looked at his grandfather:

"Could we find her?"

"I don't see why not. If not her then, at very least, the cause and manner of her death."

Hisana reeled:

"What?" She stared uncomprehendingly at the man before her, the man who wanted to be her husband: "Find her? You can find her?"

"Isn't that what you want?" he asked desperately, looking as if he expected her to say no and demand something even more obscure.

"Yes! But how?"

"Hisana, the shinigami keep meticulous records of every soul that enters and leaves Rukongai, whether they die here of violence or disease, or live out their life to be reborn on earth. We keep the balance. All we need to do is cross-reference her name with the records."

"What?"

"Given the paperwork, the regulations and controls, it might be a few months before we have an answer, but she'll be there." He wiped the tears from her face with his thumb: "Just as you were."

She stared at him for a long time. Then she burst into tears.

Tentatively, Byakuya put his arms around her, as if afraid that the smallest sign of affection on his part might spark off another inexplicable chain of events. When she returned the embrace, he relaxed a little and his grandfather shook his head:

"You could have had your pick of women, Bya-kun. I swear you go out of your way to trouble me with your choices." He rose to his feet and, with a snort of disapproval, bid them good night.

Byakuya remained, kneeling on the floor with his arms about her shoulders. After a long time, he said:

"You have to stop crying now, Hisana." She brushed at her eyes. "I wish you had told me," he said: "I wish you hadn't kept it to yourself; not least because you put yourself in danger."

"I'm sorry, Byakuya-sama."

"So," he said, straightening and pulling her to her feet as he did so: "Tomorrrow you will give your sister's details to one of my men."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"There's no need. You're my wife, my family and, as such, she is as much my sister as yours."

Hisana's steps faltered:

"I'm going to be your wife."

"In two days time."

Her mouth opened in a small 'o:'

"I'm going to be married, Byakuya-sama!"

"Yes. Yes, you are." He chuckled and then reached down, cupped her face and kissed her: "I'm glad you've come back to me in time for that."

"But I never went anywhere."

"I think you did."

She didn't know how to answer, but she followed him out into a mild evening and he took her hand.

"What happens after we are married?"

"Then we have the rest of our lives together," he said: "And it's a little harder for you to run away." She turned and saw that he was smiling in the moonlight:

"Don't tease me, Byakuya-sama!"

"I wouldn't dare!" She bristled and, at this, he gave a theatrical sigh: "My grandfather was right; I did not choose the easy path." He swept past her, the sleeves of his gown brushing her cheek. She stood, trying to appear affronted.

The wind had changed. It tore white blossoms from the trees and they drifted down over the night-time scene. She saw him glance back once, to be sure that she would follow, and she smiled inwardly. She did not deserve this: him, or his forgiveness, or his love. But she did want it.

In that respect at least she was still only human.