One Moment
Chapter 9: The Boy Who Sacrificed Everything

Characters/Pairings: Ukitake, Lilynette, Starrk, Rukia, and Gin. Hints of Shunsui/Starrk and Aizen/Starrk, but none of the pairings are the main focus.
Rating: PG-13 for Gin's creepiness.
Words: ~6800
Chapter Summary: Something new, something old, and something… white.

Slowly, Jyuushirou drew out the inkstick from its wooden lacquered box, brandishing it with a flourish. Two pairs of eyes fixed upon the decorated dark stick immediately, one with barely-veiled recognition, the other with impatience.

"The dark marks made on paper are made using ink," he began. "And this is where ink comes from, and which we can use to write and make marks of our own."

Starrk and Lilynette's reading lessons had been going well. Both of them were eager to learn, coming daily to his offices armed with steel-trap memories and a voracious hunger for knowledge.

Jyuushirou looked at the two of them now, a smile playing on the corners of his lips as he recalled the story of Momotarou that he had read to them but three days ago. While Lilynette had asked, persistently, just how Momotarou had ended up in the peach – practically ignoring the rest of the story in the process – Starrk was far more fascinated by the help the three animals had extended to the boy Momotarou, trying to figure out just why a single millet dumpling was worth the effort of fighting against demons.

Honestly, Jyuushirou far preferred Lilynette's questions. Answering Starrk's had forced him to verbalise his own deeply-held beliefs about honour, and debt,, the very foundations of both his being and Soul Society itself, and Jyuushirou had found himself extremely uncomfortable more than once because he had the feeling that Starrk had underlying reasons for wanting answers, and it had to do with Aizen.

But he thought that he could see just what had drawn Kyouraku to Starrk during those moments of intense questioning: those bright grey-blue eyes that revealed the razor-sharp intellect beneath; the precision of the questions that was proof of perceptiveness that could strip both people and ideas to their very bones; and the gentle sensitivity of the soul revealed in the abrupt changes of subject just before Jyuushirou was consumed by his intense discomfort.

No wonder Kyouraku had been unable to resist.

"Oy!" Lilynette kicked him on the knee, scowlingly irate. "You're spacing out, old man!"

"My apologies," Jyuushirou held up his hands, stifling a laugh at the pout on her face. "I was trying to remember."

Lilynette had her own charms, of course. She was brash and impulsive, with an eagerness to try out everything she learned even before understanding the whole of it. Despite her protest, Jyuushirou could not help but see her as a child still.

The two of them claimed them they were born from the same soul, but Jyuushirou was starting to suspect that the case was far more complicated than that. He was unconscious when they merged into a single form, and though he believed in it, he couldn't help but doubt. Weren't the higher-level Hollows all made of a collection of souls? Could it be that they weren't part of the same soul, but part of one another, nonetheless?

How would that even work anyway?

Dismissing those thoughts, he concentrated on his students once more. There was no use in dwelling in such things now, and Lilynette was beginning to fidget.

He started to rub the inkstick against the stone, causing the water that had already been poured onto it to darken to black.

"This is made out of the soot of burnt trees," Jyuushirou began softly, dissolving the ink into smooth circles. "When it was first made, the soot was gathered from the dregs of logs burnt for warmth in winter. The black dust would be stored in canisters, to be dissolved with water to be used. But it spoiled easily.

"Then it was discovered that if we add glues are found naturally in animals to the soot, it would would stick together, and we can form blocks like this," he held up the inkstick. "Glue from the undersides of oxhide, or from boiled fish skin, were most commonly used; after all, if we did not use those, they would simply be thrown away."

"When was it first discovered that such a thing is possible?" Starrk asked softly.

Jyuushirou smiled at the completely typical question from the man. "I'm not quite sure," he said apologetically. "More than a thousand years ago, at the very least. When I first learned to write, it was already with these sticks."

The pool of black had reached enough thickness to be used. Jyuushirou lifted it from the inkstone, turning it over so he offered the dry end to his students.

"Will you like to touch it?"

Lilynette grabbed the inkstick even before Starrk could reach out his hand. She ran a finger over the edges, tracing the tiny, intricate snowdrops.

"It doesn't come off," she observed. Jyuushirou watched, amused, as she touched the wet end before bringing her blackened finger into her mouth. "And it tastes disgusting."

He laughed. "Well, this one isn't made to be eaten," he told her.

"This one?" Starrk asked immediately. Taking the stick from Lilynette, his nails made tiny clicking sounds as he ran them over the sides.

"Mm," Jyuushirou nodded. "There used to be inksticks made that were mixed not just with glue, but with medicinal herbs as well. They were to be ground in hot water and drank."

"Eww," Lilynette made a face. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Soot has medicinal properties," Jyuushirou told her, smiling slightly. "It is particularly effective against illnesses of the stomach. In fact, charcoal can help to lessen the effects of poison, or spoilt food."

The two Arrancar, who had probably never eaten anything in their entire lives except for souls and other Hollows, simply blinked at him.

"I'll take your word for that," Starrk said dryly.

Lilynette kicked out her legs. "Enough with the history lesson already," she complained. "I want to learn how to write."

"Alright, alright," Jyuushirou said placatingly. He picked out two brushes – one smaller than the other – and handed it to them.

"You hold the brushes like this," he demonstrated. "Put your thumb and index finger on one side, and your other fingers spread out on the other. No, Lilynette-chan; further out, your smallest finger must be right above the hairs. Look at how Starrk-san is holding it."

"It's not very different from how you hold a sword," Starrk commented. He reached out, taking Lilynette's hand in his as he adjusted her grip.

Jyuushirou hid a smile. He would, he thought, leave the topic of ink painting and its connection to the way of the sword for another day.

"What is it that you would like to learn to write first?" he asked instead.

"Our names," Lilynette replied promptly. "Lilynette Gingerbuck and Coyote Starrk."

Nodding, Jyuushirou smoothed out a piece of paper on the table. "It will have to be in katakana," he said, almost apologetic.

"It's fine," Starrk said.

"It's better," Lilynette corrected him. "Then we can make our names mean whatever we like."

Jyuushirou chuckled. He dipped his brush into his pen before writing, in large characters, his more impatient student's name:

リリネット・ジンジャーバック

"Li-li-net-to Jin-ja-a-bak-ku," he read out loud, enunciating each syllable clearly and pointing to the character it corresponds to.

コヨーテ・スターク

"Ko-yo-u-te Su-ta-a-ku."

The two of them peered at the letters. Lilynette poked at the drying ink, smudging her name, and she wiped off the spot of black on the corner of the paper.

"Try it," Jyuushirou urged.

They exchanged a glance before complying. Jyuushirou watched, a smile tugging on the edge of his lips, as Lilynette filled her entire piece of paper with just thirteen characters, all of them lopsided and a little unsteady. Starrk, on the other hand, wrote his name in a straight line downwards, his characters much smaller and neater.

Starrk put his brush down, staring at the paper with his name on it with an odd look on his face. Then he shook his head.

"How do we write your name, taichou-san?" he asked quietly.

Instead of answering, Jyuushirou dipped his brush into the ink again.

浮竹 十四郎

"Uki-take Jyuu-shi-rou," he pronounced carefully, pointing from one character to another.

Lilynette peered over his arm, staring at the characters. She was mouthing his name, squinting her single eye as she pointed from one character, then the next.

"Say," she looked at him. "I know that these two," she pointed at the first two characters of his given name, "mean fourteen, and 'rou' is the same 'rou' as Momotarou."

"Mm," Jyuushirou nodded encouragingly.

"But what does the whole thing mean?"

"Floating," he pointed to 'uki', "bamboo," to 'take', "fourteenth son," he pointed to the last three characters.

His students blinked at him. Lilynette cocked her head very slowly.

"You… named yourself after a dead plant?" she asked, looking utterly confused.

"And where are the other thirteen?" Starrk's eyes were darting around, as if he expected them to pop up at any moment.

Jyuushirou put down his brush. He covered his mouth with that hand and let loose the laughter within him.

"Sorry," he tried to apologise through the laughter. "But that was…" he shook his head hard. "I've never had anyone react that way to my name before."

"Your name doesn't make sense," Lilynette said, as if pointing out something obvious. Jyuushirou decided to not tell her that neither did hers.

"Ukitake is my surname," he explained after gaining some control of his laughter. "And I was named the fourteenth son because I was the fourteenth grandson of my grandfather."

Lilynette and Starrk exchanged a look. Starrk jerked his head towards her, and Lilynette turned back towards Jyuushirou with a determined look.

"What's a surname?"

Jyuushirou blinked.

"Both of you have surnames," he said, confused. "Aren't Gingerbuck and Starrk your surnames?"

They looked at each other again. This time, Lilynette shoved an elbow into Starrk's ribs, and the man sighed heavily.

"It's just the second of our names," he shrugged. "Every Hollow chooses two names when he or she learns how to speak." He paused for a moment, brow furrowing. "Usually we just end up using one of our names… I don't know why we always choose two, actually."

"Maybe it has to do with this surname business," Lilynette suggested, but she didn't look convinced.

"A surname is…" Jyuushirou paused, trying to find the simplest way to explain it. "Your family's name; the name that tells people which family you belong to. Usually, the name is passed down from the father to the children."

Starrk looked thoughtful. "I think that's why Szayel and Yylfordt had the same second name," he told Lilynette. "They're brothers, right?"

"I don't think their second name belonged to their sire, though," Lilynette frowned.

Jyuushirou's jaw dropped for a moment. He swallowed, and forced it close again. After a moment, he finally found the words.

"… Hollows can have children?"

Two pairs of eyes shot back at him. Starrk smiled wryly, while Lilynette rolled her eyes.

"Well, duh," she said.

Putting down her brush, she propped her elbows on the table and started ticking off her fingers. "Let's see… out of all of us, I think… Szayel – and Yylfordt – was born… Ulquiorra was born… Grimmjow?"

Starrk shook his head. "He worked his way up."

His other half nodded, scratching her helmet-like mask fragment. "I think that's it," she said.

"Hollows don't have children often," Starrk added quietly.

"Because Hueco Mundo is a shitty and dangerous place," Lilynette snorted. She shrugged a little. "But it's pretty easy to tell when a Hollow was born instead of working their way up."

"How?" Jyuushirou croaked.

"They tend to be more broken and inhuman than the rest of us," Starrk replied, looking down at the brush in his hand. "Born Hollows are usually composed of bits and pieces of assimilated souls from their parents' collection; they didn't start out as a whole person."

"That's his long-winded way of saying that they're all nutcases," Lilynette snorted.

"They're not all that bad," Starrk protested.

"Your opinion doesn't count," she countered. "Your standards are shit." She paused for a moment.

"Hey! Maybe that's why most Hollows don't have kids. Who wants to give birth to confirmed nutcases?"

Starrk snorted quietly, shaking his head.

Taking a deep breath, Jyuushirou stilled the shaking of his hands. He was extremely thankful that Starrk and Lilynette had told only him this: he couldn't imagine what the other Captains' reactions would've been to the idea that Hollows could reproduce on their own. Soul Society's entire system of power was based on the idea that those who could give birth to a new soul was somehow superior to those who could not. To learn that their eternal enemies, the very Hollows sneered to be little more than beasts, could do the same…

He shook his head.

"And how is that accomplished?" he heard himself ask.

"Huh?" Lilynette asked.

"How do you have children?" he elaborated.

The two Arrancar exchanged another glance. Starrk shrugged, and Lilynette turned back to him, leaning in.

"Uh…" she said, frowning a little. "I don't know whether to pity you or just feel sad in general, but… do you Shinigami not… have sex? Do we have to give you the sex talk?"

"No!" Jyuushirou yelped, shaking his head hard. "No! That's not necessary! That's completely unnecessary! Please don't!"

A sly smirk tugged at the sides of her mouth. "Are you sure?" she practically leered.

Jyuushirou winced. "Lilynette-chan, please stop," he practically begged. "That face… it really doesn't suit you."

"Lilynette," Starrk said, reaching out to tap her on the shoulder. She huffed, and Jyuushirou would've been more grateful for the intervention if Starrk didn't look as if he was going to burst into laughter at any moment.

"If you know about sex, taichou-san, then why did you ask?"

Calming himself with another deep breath, Jyuushirou frowned. "Because of the term you just used. You said 'sire', not father."

There was another rapid exchange of glances that he couldn't decipher. Lilynette frowned, opening her mouth, but Starrk shook his head. He put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly before he turned to Jyuushirou.

"That is complicated, and will take far too long to explain," he said, and Jyuushirou knew, instantly, that he was hedging. "And I'd rather we go on with our lesson."

"Lilynette-chan?"

The girl shook her head. "I told you already, I can't explain things the way Starrk can," she said, eyes averted.

They were hiding something from him. Or, more precisely, there was something that they definitely didn't want to tell him. He wondered what it was, and why one particular question he asked could make them clamp up like that.

But he knew when it was useless to press anymore, especially when he didn't want to alienate them just when they were getting somewhere.

"Alright," he nodded, picking up his brush again. "What would you like to learn to write now?"

"Taichou-san's name," Starrk said promptly.

Jyuushirou stifled a grin, instead writing Kyouraku's name in neat, large letters.

京楽 春水

"Kyou-raku Shun-sui," he pointed to each character. Then, before Starrk could voice the question in his eyes, he explained. "His surname is a little harder than mine to explain. The first character means the capital, while the second 'enjoyment' – I suppose it means 'enjoyment at the capital'. His given name means 'spring water'."

Starrk's head jerked upwards. "Like a brook's?"

"No," Jyuushirou said. "Spring as in the season."

"That's a pity," Starrk said, looking down at his paper as he slowly copied the words. "If his name means a brook, then it would really suit him."

"What do you mean?"

Lilynette kicked her other half. "You need to speak sense," she grumbled.

Starrk looked up at the two of them before he smiled lopsidedly. "His reiatsu," he said softly. "He always feels… cool, and refreshing, like the brook over there," he motioned beyond the window, "within the mountains."

Jyuushirou wondered what it meant, for a creature stuck in a desert like Starrk to think that Kyouraku felt like a source of water. His lips twitched, and he hid it behind a hand.

"It might still be fitting," he said instead. Meeting Starrk's gaze, he smiled. "If you stay here for a few more months, Starrk-san, you will be able to feel the first breath of spring that comes after winter."

He cocked his head to the side in reply. "Are you convincing me to stay?" he asked.

"Of course," Jyuushirou admitted easily, chuckling. "After all, you're the first students I've had for a long time. I don't want to lose you."

Lilynette snorts. "You don't have to keep trying," she grumbled, her words becoming jagged with the barely-veiled irritation. "It's not like we have anywhere else to go."

"There is a difference," Jyuushirou said quietly, "between choosing to stay, and not having a choice."

"Keh," Lilynette jerked her head away.

Jyuushirou waited.

"We'll think about it," Starrk murmured after long moments of silence. His brush lifted off the paper, and he returned it to the stand.

"Perhaps you can ask Kyouraku for his full name once you have decided," Jyuushirou suggested, careful to keep his voice casual. "It's rather long, longer than what I've shown you. You can ask him why his name is so long too."

Starrk's lips quirked upwards slightly.

"Maybe I would."

So cautious, Jyuushirou thought, looking at him. But he supposed that he could expect nothing else: after all, scars took time to heal, especially the ones that scored so deep on the inside.

But it was alright: if he and Kyouraku had learned anything from the past thousand years, it was patience.

"Oh, look who do we have here?"

That tenor voice, lilting with every other syllable… Rukia found her legs locking, fixing her to the ground. There was such irony: Ichimaru Gin could freeze her with just a single spoken sentence, while Rukia needed a sword to do the same to her enemies.

Slowly, she turned around.

The man was dressed in a long-sleeved kosode, hakama, tabi, and waraji: all in the purest of white that made the silver of his hair gleam brightly in the sun. His usual smile curled up his lips. He looked – and felt – like the malevolent ghost of human legends.

"Ichimaru," she greeted formally. There was no need to name him 'Captain' anymore – the utter lack of reiatsu proved it. She knew she should feel reassured of that – there was no way he could hurt her, because he couldn't even use shunpo anymore – but somehow, it only added to the threat hidden in the shadows of his squinted-shut eyes.

"So cold, Rukia-chan," Ichimaru tutted, shaking his head. He pushed himself away from the wall that he was leaning on, taking a simple step towards her.

"I was just coming over to congratulate you," he continued in the same snake-like, lilting tones. "It's quite something, you know, for an unseated Shinigami to have taken down an Espada."

Rukia tried her best not to twitch. Her reiatsu must have wavered, or she had shown something in her face, because Ichimaru's smile widened.

"Aaroniero was the very first one who was taken down, out of all the Espada," he tapped a lip with a long, thin finger thoughtfully. "Your kill was the very first one. Why, it might even have turned the tide of the war."

She couldn't help it: even though the praise had come from such a despicable source, her heart swelled with it. Rukia tried to push it down, to stifle the pride she felt at the very possibility of having done something to aid in the war's efforts. She had thought that she had done nothing... after all, even after killing Aaroniero, she still had to be rescued by her older brother.

Ichimaru's smile was suddenly far too close. Rukia's breath hitched in her throat. She knew, suddenly, that it was all going to happen again. She was a fool enough to allow Ichimaru into her defences, and any moment now he was going to say something to destroy her and she wouldn't be able to stop—

A foot slammed into Ichimaru's face.

Rukia reeled backwards, barely managing to keep her balance. She saw a flash of a dark red cloth printed with swaying leaves before Ichimaru went down like a sack of bricks, his arms flailing a little by his side. His assailant had evidently caught him back surprise – and Rukia as well – because he landed on his back, right on the ground.

It was a girl even younger than she was, with light green hair and a white helmet with strange-looking horns protruding. Rukia blinked, recognising one of Ukitake-taichou's guests… though what she was doing, suddenly sitting on Ichimaru's neck, Rukia had no idea.

"Uh…" she tried.

"Oy, you annoying bastard," the girl was saying. Rukia watched with morbid fascination as she gripped Ichimaru's cheeks and pulled the skin like some kind of clay. "Do you know what people call men who get too close to young girls? Perverts. Do you know how to write that word? Do you want me to show you with your own blood?"

Ichimaru seemed remarkably unfazed – or used to the treatment – because he was still smiling. "I didn't know you could write, Lilynette-chan," he commented.

"I'm learning," 'Lilynette' loomed right over him, her lips drawn wide into a grin that was both eerily reminiscent of Ichimaru's and absolutely comedic at the same time. Rukia twitched again, this time trying not to laugh.

"Really?" there was just the slightest hint of blue appearing beneath the closed lids. "What have you learned?"

"Lots," Lilynette declared. "And I'm not going to tell you, you creepy pervert."

"Well," Ichimaru said, finally sounding a little strangled. "If you don't get off me, Lilynette-chan, you never will."

Lilynette gave him a long, searching look that was utterly strange on her childlike face. After a moment, she seemed to come to some decision, because she stood up.

"Oy, Starrk!" Her loud voice rang out so loudly that Rukia would be surprised if the neighbouring Twelfth Division didn't hear her. "Some annoying bastard is here to talk to you!"

The other Arrancar emerged from the doors of Ukitake-taichou's office, stretching out his lanky limbs.

"I can't tell who you're referring to, Lilynette," he murmured, voice barely loud enough to be heard. "You call everyone some kind of—"

He stopped abruptly, eyes focusing. "Oh, it's you," he said.

Ichimaru, still on the floor, gave a jaunty little wave. "Hello there, Starrk-chan."

Lilynette picked up a rock and tossed it at Starrk. "If the two of you are going to talk, get him out of here," she demanded.

Starrk had caught the rock with ease, and he blinked sleepy-looking grey-blue eyes. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

Ichimaru was looking between the two Arrancar with a lopsided edge to his usual wide smile. Rukia kept her eyes on him, trying to convince herself that she needed to so as to make sure that he didn't try anything untoward in the Division. But the excuse was weak, and the creeping, itching feeling she felt underneath her skin grew stronger with every second.

She had almost reached her limit when Starrk moved: one moment, he was at the door; the next, he was right in front of Ichimaru. Rukia gaped – the man seemed like he teleported – and her jaw dropped even wider when Starrk grabbed Ichimaru by the waist and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Lilynette's orders," he drawled. "Let's go, Ichimaru."

Then the two men were gone, just like that.

"You look kinda stupid with your mouth open like that," Lilynette said, shoving her face really close to Rukia's. "But you look better than you did before, so whatever."

Rukia instinctive threw her hand outwards, throwing out the heel of her palm right against Lilynette's nose.

"Ow!"

"Any- anyone would've been shocked when they seem a man being carried away like a bag of rice!" she yelled.

Lilynette snorted. "Yeah, and you looked all pretty with your mouth open that big. There's even spinach on your teeth."

Rukia's hands flew to her mouth, covering it. She wondered if it was possible for her to slip off the brush her teeth- but wait, she didn't have spinach today?

Her eyes were widening again when she heard Lilynette break into peals of laughing, practically rolling on the grass. The yukata she was wearing – a plain, dark red background embroidered with small leaves that matched her hair – was rapidly getting dirtier.

Rukia took a deep breath, reminding herself that nobles did not lose their tempers to Hollows.

Then Lilynette cracked open an eye and started laughing even harder. Rukia's eye twitched, and she kicked the little girl hard on the side.

"Will you stop your cackling already?"

"Ow!" the laughter started to peter off, and Lilynette sat up, gulping for breath as she dragged a hand through the hair that showed through the helmet- through her mask fragment, Rukia reminded herself.

"Look, Shinigami," Lilynette said, tipping her head up. She was grinning wide, her single eye glinting with curiosity. "Why are you so scared of that annoying bastard Ichimaru?"

Rukia's breath caught in her throat. "I don't know what you're talking about," she muttered, looking away.

"God, why is it that everything thinks that I'm stupid or something?" Lilynette rolled her eye, flopping back onto the grass. "You were looking at him like a mouse into the jaws of a snake, so how can I not know that you're scared of him?"

"You said it yourself, he looks like a snake," Ruki pointed out, ignoring the fact that she was paraphrasing the Arrancar's words inaccurately. "Why aren't you scared of him?"

Lilynette rolled her eyes. "Because he's a damned snake, that's why."

"What?"

Peeking at her, Lilynette sighed, sitting up. "Look, you know where you are with snakes," she said. "Snakes bite, and they're poisonous. You know that just by looking at them."

Rukia blinked.

"You know who I think is really scary?" Lilynette asked, propping her head up with a hand. "That floating bamboo Captain of yours."

Floating… bamboo…? "Ukitake-taichou?"

"Yeah," Lilynette nodded. "His name is really fitting, you know."

"Why?"

"It's like a dead log in a river, you know?" she waggled her hand in the air. Rukia took a moment to understand that Lilynette was imitating a floating piece of driftwood. "It looks perfectly harmless, but it might be a crocodile… or you might think it is heavy enough to carry you, and you step on it… poof!" she spread her hands out wide.

"You're dead from drowning."

"It sounds…" Rukia said carefully. "It sounds like you're describing Aizen more than Ukitake-taichou."

"Aizen?" Lilynette snorted. "Nah, he's completely different. He's like this guy you go swimming in the ocean with who warns you about the sharks right before he cuts you and throws you in."

"That's…" Surprisingly accurate, Rukia thought. But the words felt like hard pebbles in her dry mouth, and she could only swallow them with difficulty. If she admitted that Lilynette's assessment of Aizen was correct, then surely she was admitting that Ukitake-taichou was dangerous as well. And Rukia couldn't find it within herself to do such a thing.

So she only shook her head. "I don't know Aizen well enough to know," she said.

Lilynette looked at her for a long moment before she snorted, rolling over to lie flat on her back. The ties of her obi gave up the ghost, and the yukata opened to reveal her stomach. Rukia tried her best to not stare at the gaping hole in her abdomen – the clearest sign of her Hollow nature – but she didn't know if she truly succeeded.

It was such a strange thing: Rukia had gone through most of her life thinking that her textbooks were right about Hollows: they were all bestial, mindless creatures driven only by hunger and the wish to kill. All those she had met during Aizen's war hadn't dissuaded her from the notion; even Grimmjow seemed little more than a bloodthirsty beast.

But Lilynette seemed like any other child. 'Seemed', because Lilynette had recognised her fear, and had stopped Ichimaru from harassing her further with a literal foot in the face, which Rukia had never thought any child was capable of. Not even Kusajishi-fukutaichou. 'Seemed', for Rukia could not find it within herself to disregard the gaping hole in her stomach.

She let herself wonder what it might mean so she would not dwell on thoughts of Ichimaru. Was there any kind of significance to the placement of a Hollow's hole in their bodies?

"Oy, Shinigami," Lilynette said suddenly, jarring Rukia from her thoughts.

Instinctively, she scowled. "I have a name," she snapped out. "It's Kuchiki Rukia."

Lilynette blinked. "Which one do you want me to use?"

"What?"

Rukia had a distinct feeling that she kept asking that same question.

"You have two names," Lilynette said, her tone implying that Rukia was an idiot. "Which one would you want me to use?"

"Oh," Rukia blinked. "Uh, Kuchiki is fine."

"So, Kuchiki," the girl drawled, a wide smile started to curve up her lips. "Can you use that sword of yours?"

"Why did you ask?" Rukia blurted.

"Because Yachiru said that every Shinigami can use their swords even if they didn't know their names," Lilynette replied easily, shrugging. "And I just want to see how you use it, that's all."

She raised her one visible eyebrow. "So will you show me?"

"I…" Rukia hesitated. She knew she shouldn't; knew she should at least ask Ukitake-taichou for permission before even thinking of doing so. Yet at the same time, she knew that she owed Lilynette a debt for getting Ichimaru away, even though she didn't ask the girl to do such a thing.

What harm could just showing her a few moves do anyway? It should be alright as long as Rukia didn't let go of her blade.

"… Alright," she nodded.

"Great!" Lilynette jumped up. She kept hopping on the spot, brushing leaves away from her yukata.

Then she stopped suddenly, her single eye fixing on Rukia's. Rukia found her breath knocked out of her lungs when she saw that wide, childish smile fade to be replaced by an expression that seemed far, far too old for a face that young.

"I like you already, Kuchiki," Lilynette said, soft and quiet. "You're the only one here aside from the floating bamboo who could look me in the face without flinching."

Before Rukia could even formulate some kind of reply, the other girl was leering at her.

"Though you keep staring at my Hollow hole," she continued. "Why, are you thinking of getting one of your own?"

"Who…" Rukia sputtered. "Who would want anything like that?"

"Nobody," Lilynette waved a careless hand. "Now are you going to show me or not?"

Rukia felt almost dizzy, trying to keep up with the Hollow's changes in mood and demeanour. There seemed to be a hundred shapeless things out of her grasp underneath the surface of every shift, and she could not find a hold onto any of them onto none of them. The feeling was like déjà vu: she had felt the same way when she first entered into the Kuchiki family.

"Come on already!"

Abruptly, she decided to leave thinking for later. She would act like she always did, and figure things out along the way.

Starrk sat Ichimaru carefully down on the root of a big tree, leaning the ex-Shinigami's back against the trunk. He carefully averted his eyes as Ichimaru retched from the sonido, his shoulders shaking.

Looking around, he took in the sight. The forest just beyond the Thirteenth Division was now a mass of red, orange, yellow and brown; all warm shades, the shades of autumn at its zenith, just before giving way to winter. The greens that used to be here had all faded away, and Ukitake had told him that, in winter, the scenery would be cover in white, blue, silver and grey.

He wondered if there was a reason why the Shinigami had clothed Ichimaru in the colours of winter, or if Ichimaru had chosen his current wardrobe himself.

"Sorry," he murmured once he realised that Ichimaru was sitting up. "I forgot."

"My," Ichimaru said, his usual smile crawling back to his face. "You really do mean that, don't you, Starrk-chan?"

"Yeah. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Really?" Slowly, Ichimaru cocked his head. "But you are still hurting me, making me looked up like that. My neck aches."

Starrk nodded, finding a tree root a little distance from the other man before he sat down. "Sorry," he repeated. "Is this better?"

Those usually-shut eyes opened just a fraction, revealing a slice of blue the colour of ice. "Ahh," he hummed. "You're really so eager to please, aren't you? Like a puppy chasing everyone's heels, waiting for some sort of praise… You really are so very cute."

He tutted quietly. "He really was so terrible to you, wasn't he, Aizen-taichou. It's such a good thing that you're here now, Starrk-chan. Seireitei is a much better place for you. You won't have to hurt anyone here. You won't have to fight a war just to have friends."

Starrk's breath hitched in his throat, the air pushed upwards by the slow swell of an undefinable emotion growing in his chest. His eyes fixed upon Ichimaru's long-fingered hands as they slowly rose.

Ichimaru patted his cheek. The skin felt cold and dry, like the sliding, shifting scales of a snake.

"I'm lying," he said cheerfully. "They're all here just to make use of you. Poor Starrk-chan… you won't ever be seen as anything more than a useful tool no matter what you do."

His hand twitched at his sight. Starrk stared at the vulnerable throat. He could snap that neck so easily… or he could grab that wrist and break the bones. He wouldn't even have to try: the strength of his hierro would do the dirty work. He could even pretend that it was an accident.

But… he didn't want to. He looked into those mocking blue eyes, and though he knew it might be a lie, he couldn't help but notice the aching pain buried within the depths.

Gently, he closed his fingers around Ichimaru's wrist. He turned his head, nuzzling his lips and nose against the palm, hoping to give some sort of comfort.

Ichimaru's eyes snapped fully open, but he didn't pull away.

"I think…" he started, quiet and hesitant. "You used to be better at this."

He remembered clearly the look in the petite female Shinigami's eyes as she stared at Ichimaru.

"Once, Aizen told me a story," he said. "I didn't understand it then, but I think I understand now." He took a breath.

"He told me a boy who sacrificed everything he had just to save his friend."

Ichimaru's smile vanished in that instant, and his already-opened eyes widened further. He didn't say a word.

"Once, there was a boy who had one friend whom he held close, and whom he wished to protect with everything he had," Starrk began. He shoved the other memories associated with the telling of that particular tale away. "One day, the boy's friend was attacked by three men, who took something of hers to offer to a demon for the sake of power. The boy saw this, and offered himself to the demon. He wanted power too, but instead of offering something that belonged to others, he offered the whole of himself in exchange for the power to kill the three men who hurt his friend."

He shook his head. "Aizen never told me the ending of the story," he said. "Did you manage to get back what was taken from your friend?"

"No," Ichimaru said, his voice sounding distant, half-choked. "The demon still has it."

And so the boy sacrificed everything for power, and though even that power had been taken from him, he still did not manage to get what he wished.

"This is why you can never make me hate you or be scared of you," Starrk said, closing his eyes. "I know, Ichimaru. I know that you're trying to hurt me because you needed to know that you still have power."

Ichimaru went completely still. His eyes were wide, like a predator who could barely believe that the prey he had chosen could bite back.

"The punishment dealt to you was really cruel," Starrk pressed his face harder into the cold hand. "They took your power, but they refused to let you leave the place where you are reminded of what you have lost.

"How many people have tried to hurt you so far?"

It had been two weeks at most since Ichimaru had been rendered powerless, but Starrk knew better than to underestimate the depth of people's hatred, or the way they would lash out towards any possible scapegoat they saw. Perhaps if he peeled away those white clothes, he would be able to see bandages.

Perhaps the white of those clothes had nothing to do with winter, but simply how well they could drown the white bandages in a sea of its own colour.

Starrk opened his eyes, meeting Ichimaru's blue gaze earnestly. "I am really very sorry."

Ichimaru's eyes slowly slid closed again. He smiled, and the shape of it was wrong and so obviously false.

"I prefer you when you were lazy and quiet, Starrk-chan."

"Mm," Starrk nodded. "I know. But I don't."

He had only been lazy in Las Noches because there was nothing he could do; nothing he wished to do. The first few weeks, he had tried his best to reach out to the other Arrancar, to the companions Aizen had promised him. But every overture had been met with rejection, and he could only spend so much time watching and understanding them before it had hurt far too much to see the tenuous bonds connecting them while he could weave none of his own.

Though Starrk could understand all of them – all of them, from the lowliest Numero who could barely spend ten minutes in his presence to the other Espada whom he desperately clung onto as comrades – he couldn't use any of that knowledge to make them see him as anything more than a threat.

It wasn't much better here, but… but at least it was another chance, another try.

Ichimaru folded his fingers, running the rough knuckles over Starrk's cheekbone.

"This is why Aizen-taichou spent so much time on you" he said musingly. "His dear Primera: clever, powerful… and so, so desperate."

Starrk smiled wryly. Slowly, he pulled Ichimaru's hand away from his face.

"I told you already. There's nothing you can say to make me hate you."

He understood Ichimaru far too well for hatred. His mind fitted together the broken pieces of a soul far too well for his own liking, and though he wished – sometimes desperately – for the simplicity of hatred, he just couldn't find it within himself to do so.

"What about Aizen-taichou?" Ichimaru asked, cocking his head to the side.

"I don't hate him either." He understood Aizen far too well too; well enough for his betrayal to score deep wounds within him, leaving him bleeding from the inside without even the ability to lash out towards the man who had caused them.

"Maa…" Ichimaru clicked his tongue. "If you can't even hate Aizen-taichou after all he's done to you, I haven't got a chance, mm?"

"Not with me."

"What about Lilynette-chan?" Ichimaru's voice turned sly and insinuating. "How much do I have to hurt her to make her hate me? Or you?"

"What kind of power will you gain by hurting a little girl?" Even though Lilynette was far from the child that she looked and sometimes acted, Starrk knew he could use it against Ichimaru. "It'll be rather pathetic."

Ichimaru looked at him for a long moment before he chuckled, low and dark. "Has anyone told you that you're terrifying, Starrk-chan?"

Starrk sighed, finally stepping away from the other man.

"All the damned time."

He wished he could find someone, just one person, who didn't see him as the danger he might prove to be, but simply as himself.

But he supposed that was as ridiculous as wishing for the moon to drop out of the skies into his hands.

Perhaps it made him as desperate as Ichimaru thought he was, but Starrk no longer cared: he would take whatever he could have.

~ End Arc 1: A God and His Clay ~

Notes: Yes, the first arc is now over.

The second arc is called The Captain and the Wolf. Next up: Zanpaktou rebellion!

Last chapter, I said that the plot will be moving faster in arc 2, but I make no promises of the same about Shunsui and Starrk's relationship. It will move a little faster, but trust issues take a long time to resolve. They should be together when Arc 2 ends, but my plans when it comes to this fic…

Let's just say that I thought it was going to be 30k words at most, and now I've written over 80k and it's not half-done yet. I did say that I have plans until Wandenreich, right? That's arc 3. Eventually.

Also, I realised something. I've had the first drafts up to Chapter 12 written now (not edited), and this fic is about Starrk, and Lilynette, but there are subplots for every ex-resident of Las Noches who is still alive. Which means, yes, Grimmjow, Neliel, Harribel, and Gin will all feature prominently, and have pairings.

Do you realise the pairing I'm hinting towards in this chapter that will be developed? It's a really rare pairing – in fact, I don't think anyone has ever written it before – so if you can guess, you get a star.

I'll get right ahead to replying to reviews now. Sorry, my week had been horrible, filled with work and illness.