Author's Soundtrack:
Glory Box by Portishead

Chapter Nine

It took nearly four days for Shinji, Genryuusai, and Amanda Sullivan of the American Council to argue over what they had learned from the Lady and determine how to proceed. Most of their time was spent bickering over territory rights and rehashing old arguments that Rukia felt had absolutely nothing to do with their current predicament. They disagreed. More than once she'd been tempted to hit the mute button while they quarreled. All three of them were on the other side of the world, participating in the Gathering. It would have been easy to turn off the volume, or even their video feed, and blame a bad connection.

After much effort and compromise, the chancellors finally agreed to Japan and England sending two representatives each, who would be escorted by a team of FCA agents to and from their meetings with the First. Anything they learned would be shared with the chancellors simultaneously. Concern for information leaking was high. Begrudgingly, Sullivan agreed to keep her agents in the dark. Understandably, she disliked the idea of her own council not being represented when speaking to the First, but admitted there was little time for her to vet someone she could trust completely.

The two teams, made up of Ashido, Hideki, Rukia, and Ichigo, would try to make contact with the First and request any information he might have on Aizen's new abilities. If the opportunity presented itself, they were also to solicit his assistance in dealing with Aizen. In the meantime, their chancellors would plead with the other councils to unite in dealing with Aizen. For too long he eluded capture, using gaps in their strained relationships to slip through the cracks and working to dismantle everything they worked for. It was time they closed ranks and dealt with him once and for all.

The flight from London to New York City was long, and gave Rukia a chance to catch up on her sleep. The seats on the private jet lay flat and felt like heaven to her tired body. As soon as they took off, she was out and didn't wake until they landed.

As the plane taxied along the runway, she sorted through her copy of the file the Lady had given them on Coyote Starrk. It was thicker now, stuffed with additional information they'd gathered on Starrk's alias, along with a few photos and anything else that might be related to him.

Coyote Starrk was a man who appeared to be in his early 40s, with tanned skin and dark chin-length hair. He was a healthy thin and well dressed. Initial searches claimed he was the last in a line of businessmen who inherited his grandfather's multi-billion dollar company. He lived a quiet life, staying out of the tabloids. Through his company, and probably other means, he had many ties to very powerful people throughout the world.

There was truth mixed in with the lies to help solidify his story and keep him from attracting too much attention from his own people and the humans alike. To humans he was another elusive rich man. To their own kind, he was a vampire who was very good at playing the game.

She studied one of the pictures taken as he was getting off a plane. Staring at those cold eyes, she wondered if he would feel any connection to her. Would those eyes show recognition or feel concern, or would they be just as empty as they were in the photo? And how important was it that he recognized her in some way? It shouldn't have mattered, but she found a small part of her wondered with hope.

The stairs were lowered and they stepped off the jet. A large black SUV was waiting for them. Beside it, a women in a dark pantsuit offered a friendly smile. Given the unusually warm fall day and high sun, Rukia felt a surge of respect for the woman. Even in her own sleeveless blouse and khaki pants she had to be warm, and yes she was smiling as if she hadn't a care in the world.

"Welcome to America," she greeted them in fluent Japanese. "I'm Agent Orihime Inoue. My team and I will be responsible for escorting you wherever you need to go."

"Thank you, Agent Inoue," Ashido replied similarly. "I'm Ashido Kano. This is Hideki Yamamoto, Ichigo Kurosaki, and Councilor Rukia Kuchiki. We all speak English, if that would make you more comfortable."

"Speak for yourself," Ichigo grumbled. Rukia tossed him a sympathetic smile. His English was surprisingly good and he never had any issues when conversing with others. Living in London had given him an advantage, but he missed speaking his own language. It helped that they spoke Japanese whenever they were alone, but his eyes still lit up when he heard someone else speaking it - even Ashido.

Agent Inoue was kind enough to suppress her amusement and continued in English. "We'll be taking you to where you'll be staying first. Along the way, I can brief you on what we have so far."

She opened the car door and waited for them all to climb inside. The back was surprisingly spacious, the seats a soft and comfortable leather. Rukia could have fit anywhere with her smaller stature, but this vehicle gave even Ashido and Ichigo enough room to stretch out their legs.

Agent Inoue sat in the front and instructed the driver to take them to their destination. She turned and continued speaking.

"We've taken the liberty of reserving a few rooms for you in a hotel near the Agency. It will give you easier access to our facilities should you need to use them."

"You don't have guest rooms on site?" Rukia wondered, mostly out of polite curiosity.

"No. The Agency is mostly offices and conference rooms. We have a couple of rooms to accommodate overnight stays, but none of the councilors for the New York division live there. They have their own homes scattered about the city, and most of our foreign dignitaries preferring staying at some of the more lavish hotels."

"I'm sure we'll be fine with whatever you have set up," Ashido replied. Rukia could read the amusement in his eyes and figured he was thinking of all the times they'd stayed in makeshift tents, cold and covered in muck. She could deal with a similar situation if necessary, but that didn't mean she wanted to anytime soon.

"We tried reaching out to the Mr. Starrk you requested to meet with," Agent Inoue continued, "but all our efforts to set up the meeting were rebuffed by his assistant. According to her, he is unavailable for a private meeting."

"That's not all that surprising," Rukia told her. "We'll have to find another way to see if we can get in touch with him."

"Well, you may be in a bit of luck." The agent smiled brilliantly.

She dug around in her bag and pulled out a tall piece of cardstock, handing it to Rukia. The design was simple, ivory in color with delicate scrolling silver text that etched out an invitation to a gala celebrating local artists and raising funds for a charity researching children's cancer.

"Although Mr. Starrk is a man who keeps to himself, a few times a year he comes out of hiding to attend charity events. This one," she tapped the invitation, "is sponsored by his company every year. And every year, he attends. It's very exclusive with limited invitations that are hand delivered to guests. I know rich people can be a little eccentric, but that seems a bit much even for their types."

"Could be he wants to make sure no one uninvited attends," Ichigo remarked.

"He does seem to be the paranoid sort."

"And we'll foster that paranoia if we show up without invitations," Ashido pointed out. "So unless you've got more of those hiding in your back pocket. . ."

That grin of hers turned mischievous, like a pretty red Cheshire Cat.

"It took a bit of negotiating, and my director will be grumbling about having to entertain a wealthy widower and her single daughter for several evenings, but we managed to procure a few more invitations." The amount of pity the agent had for her superior could fit into a thimble. Rukia could relate. "It won't guarantee you a meeting with him, but it'll get you into the building. You'll have to figure out the rest on your own."

Rukia noted the time on the invitation. "It looks like we have four hours before it starts."

"More like five. No one ever shows up to those things on time. It'll give us enough time for you to get refreshed and for us to find you some clothes."

Ichigo made a face that reminded her of a baby eating its vegetables. "Is that really necessary?"

"A tuxedo won't kill you," Rukia replied with an eye roll.

"The event is black tie. Even with an invite, if you aren't dressed appropriately, they won't let you in."

The SUV pulled up to a tall brown sandstone building nearly 20 stories high. It was simple but elegant, with a metal awning to protect guests from the elements. A man stood out front, hurrying up to the car and opening the doors for Agent Inoue and Rukia. As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she noticed a deep blue flag with gold lettering fluttering in the midday breeze.

"The Ritz-Carlton?" Rukia couldn't hide her shock.

Agent Inoue was scanning through her phone and looked up at Rukia with a smile. "Of course. I told you our guests prefer staying at the hotels in the city. We want to make sure your stay is comfortable. Since you didn't have a particular place picked out, we figured this would work."

"She means to say she wants to make sure our little councilor only has good things to say in her report." Rukia wanted to smack the smug smile off Ashido's face but refrained.

"That certainly wouldn't hurt."

The thought of what it would cost to put up four guests is such a hotel had her reeling. Perhaps it was because she'd grown used to Shinji's tight belt and dealing with whatever fit within the budget. When she was with her brother she wouldn't have batted an eye and even expected such accommodations. It was amazing the difference a year could make.

Ichigo came around the back of the car and helped the bellhop place their bags on the luggage cart.

"If it makes you feel any better, we get a discounted rate," the agent offered, leading them towards the front doors.

Inside, the lobby was spacious, decorated with luxurious furniture and dark walls. Lamps scattered throughout the room provided soft lighting that instantly made her feel comfortable and relaxed. Agent Inoue walked up to the front desk and began the process of getting them checked in, while Ichigo and Ashido eyed their surroundings with intense suspicion. It wasn't particularly crowded. A few guests were sitting in some of the chairs, discussing business or making phone calls.

When they were checked in, the agent escorted them to their rooms. They didn't have the penthouse, but the individual suites were more than impressive. The FCA truly spared no expense for their guests.

Rukia's suite had a beautiful view of Central Park. Lit by the sun as it began its slow descent behind the sparkling skyline, the colorful leaves danced in the breeze, setting the park on fire with golds and reds of fall. The living room was spacious with comfortable furniture and a small workstation. The bedroom was large with a king bed topped with an unnecessary amount of pillows. But it was the bathroom that nearly had her moaning. Stripping her clothes along the way, Rukia made her way to the bathroom.

While she waited for the hot water to fill the deep-set bathtub, she stepped into the shower to rinse off the grime from nearly nine hours of travel. When the tub was full, she turned off the shower and slowly lowered herself into the nearly boiling water. The heat scorched her skin, reaching the stiff muscles that lay beneath and easing the tension that had worked itself into every part of her body. If nothing else went right with this meeting she at least had this bathtub.

If only it was that easy.

Bliss tempered by reality, Rukia sank deeper into the water. After coming this far, would she truly be satisfied if Starrk turned her away? Would she accept his rejection? Everything to this point had been effortless, earned only with patience and luck. Ashido had fallen into her lap with a lead on the one connection to the First. The Lady had given them information and a direction with one conversation. One party that was scheduled for the day they arrived was the one event Starrk attended every year. Life was not kind. Their string of luck was bound to run out at some point. Why not at the very end of the road?

Slipping beneath the surface of the water, she pushed aside thoughts of good and bad luck and tried to be pragmatic. The chances of this whole setup being a con were unlikely. Too many people with good sense believed the intel they had. Shinji was unreliable at times, but he wasn't an idiot. Genryuusai had a personal connection to the Lady. If there was any indication of falsehood, Genryuusai and Shinji would have destroyed those pulling the con. No matter what the Lady thought, Genryuusai was not a gentle old man who let others trample him. There was a reason he was still alive. A raging fire would consume the world if he let it out.

She lifted her head out of the water and breathed in the cool air of the room. Realistically, her chances of speaking with the First were 50/50. She knew what would happen if she didn't meet him, but what about if she did? What would she say? Would he be able to tell her about the strange power? About his life? About her family? About death?

The Lady's words of warning floated back into her mind. She'd never thought much about the future. She was a hunter. Death was always a possibility and was a constant companion. So she worried only about the present. That present was consumed by finding Aizen. But now there was a chance even Death himself had abandoned her, and there was nothing waiting for her except lonely darkness. One day she would lose everyone she loved and cared for. One day there would be no one left but her, Starrk, and Aizen.

The water turned ice cold and she groaned. She climbed out of the tub, the water now crusted with a thin layer of ice, and slipped into the warm plush robe hanging on the back of the door. This was why she couldn't have nice things. If she met with Starrk and managed to get him alone, the first thing she was going to ask him about was how to control her powers.

Opening the door, Rukia froze and stared up into stormy gray eyes.

"Ashido," she breathed. Quickly, she recovered from her surprise and shifted to mild irritation. "What are you doing in my room?"

She was quick to close the door behind her as she walked into the bedroom. The steam from the room hopefully melted any remnants of her abilities, but she wasn't going to risk it. If he saw anything, he didn't mention it. Instead, he followed her out of the bedroom as she went to fetch her bag. During her bath, it had been delivered and set on the floor next to the sofa. Grabbing it, she turned and nearly ran into Ashido.

"I want to talk."

She wasn't sure how to handle this situation, how to handle him. Since their reunion in London, he'd kept his distance and maintained a professional discourse. There were no indications of what happened between them - on the surface. But every now and then she saw a familiar spark, a heat to his eyes that tried to draw her in. In London, she'd managed to keep a safe distance between them. Work kept her busy, and Ichigo didn't leave her alone often. Now the obstacles had been removed and she saw what he wanted. It wasn't to talk.

She stepped around him and back into the bedroom. "Can it wait? I'd like to get dressed and take care of a few things for work."

"I'd rather deal with this now."

Placing her bag on the dresser, she purposefully turned her back on him and began mindlessly searching through her bag. If she kept her demeanor professional and didn't leave him any openings, they might make it through this little meeting without incident.

When she glanced in the mirror she saw him standing directly behind her, his eyes boring into hers. Heat radiated off him like the sun, and she too close not to get burned. His arms appeared on either side of her waist and pressed against the dresser, effectively trapping her.

Turning, she prepared herself for the fierce pressure of his gaze. She would let him say what he wanted, and that would be it. Any more than that she risked falling into old habits.

"We should have spoken sooner. I wanted to, but I couldn't figure out how to approach you."

"And you figured sneaking into my room while I was bathing was the best time?"

He had the decency to look embarrassed. "I didn't realize you were in the bath, though I won't pretend that isn't a side benefit."

When his lips curled into a teasing smile and her heart thrummed in response she knew she was in trouble. She knew that look, knew what followed. She tried to build the defenses, but her body refused.

"I missed you."

The words were barely a whisper, a gentle caress, followed by the touch of his fingers as they brushed her cheek, the tips branching into her hair. A vague sense of nostalgia tugged at her and the small terrors that had been hounding her for the past few hours scattered. Unthinking, she leaned into his hand, craving the sensations her body recalled with surprising clarity and the desire to be free of her worries.

The face of another jolted her back to the present with a shock of ochre and she hastily pulled his hand away. It wasn't right. No matter how comfortable it made her, how easy it was, she'd made a decision a long time ago and would stick by it.

Looking up into his eyes, clouded with confusion, lust, and hurt, she hardened her resolve. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

"Say? Yes. Do?" He leaned forward. She leaned back. He paused.

"Ashido, this would be a mistake."

He frowned, his eyes still locked on her lips. "Why?"

"Things were good between us, but leaving was the best decision - for both of us."

He scowled. "You didn't want to go. I know you didn't, and I never wanted you to leave."

She knew he didn't want her to, which was one of the reasons she left the way she did. He'd loved her, would have done anything for her and followed her anywhere. She should have loved him for it, but the feeling was never there. Where she should have felt happiness and bliss there was only emptiness. The love he had for her would never fill the chasm that splintered her heart. She had missed him and hated to leave him, but it had been too easy to walk away, to move her attentions to other matters.

"Even if I stayed, things between us wouldn't have lasted. It was better for me to leave and let you move on with your life."

There was anger burning in those eyes, she could see it brewing like a hurricane, but he didn't raise his voice, didn't strike out. He took that torrent and lined his words with it, leaning closer so his lips hovered tantalizingly above her own. "I didn't want to move on from you."

His hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her in for a searing kiss, his lips claiming hers with passion built up over the years - and she crumbled under the weight of it. It was too easy to remember how good he made her feel, to slip back into what they used to be. And she ached for a distraction, to feel good for one moment in this year of hell. Her arms slipped around his neck and pulled him closer, desperate to close the space between them.

Passion had never been their problem. Every night was one of pure ecstasy. They fit together like two puzzle pieces, driving one another to the brink and falling into oblivion. In a time when she saw only darkness, he helped bring her back into the light.

Picking her up, Ashido moved her away from the dresser and pressed her back to the wall. His hands found their way into the folds of the robe, skimming and caressing familiar curves and divots, sending uncontrollable shivers coursing through her. And still his mouth dominated hers. In seconds he had her breathless, her body humming and reacting to him like the old lover he was. Each touch pulled a pleasant moan from her lips, each stroke of his tongue a whimper for more.

But she'd remembered the truth. He had been an escape, nothing more. The wounds she thought he had been healing were still there. They weren't so deep, no longer leaving her a broken heap of misery on the floor. He had helped her to move forward and wanted to keep the momentum, but she couldn't give him what he wanted in the end. She still couldn't give that to him, and it wasn't fair.

When his hands slipped between her legs reality slammed into her like a sledgehammer. With as much force as she could muster, she pushed him away from her. He stumbled back, nearly falling on the bed. She ignored the ache his absence left behind and tried to catch her breath. Quickly, she adjusted her robes and fixed him with a pointed stare that commanded he not move an inch.

"You may not have wanted to move on from me, but I was moving on from you. I. . ." She clenched her jaw and fought back the tidal wave of emotions that threatened to break her. She didn't want to hurt him. She wanted to keep loving him in her own way, but he needed to know the truth and understand she couldn't give him what he wanted. "I wanted to love you. I wanted to be with you. But I realized I was never going to be able to return your feelings, not the way you wanted me to. It wasn't fair or right to keep deceiving you once I knew the truth."

His eyes flashed with pain at her words and he started to argue, but she held up a hand and silenced.

"What you did for me, I can never thank you enough. You gave me a reason and purpose to continue living when I wasn't sure I wanted to, but you couldn't fix everything for me. There are pieces of me that are still broken, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to fix them. I still feel that hole in my heart Kaien left."

"What about the kid?" He was calm when he asked, but she could see the venom behind those eyes, feel it bite into her with sharp fangs. But the question was so unexpected she stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he was asking.

"Kid? What kid?"

"Kurosaki," he sneered.

She felt her feathers ruffle in defense. "He's got nothing to do with this."

"I've seen the way he watches you, how his eyes follow you wherever you go. And did you think I wouldn't notice? The hair and eyes are different, but the similarities are uncanny. I bet he fills that hole of yours quite nicely."

The insinuation had the color draining from her face in equal part humiliation and indignity. There was a lot she was willing to take. She'd been called and accused of many things throughout her life, whispered about, torn down by people who barely knew her. How she'd handled leaving Ashido earned him the right to a few good lumps, but what he was implying was beyond what she would tolerate. In one sentence he demeaned her love for Kaien and her relationship with Ichigo.

"Get out. Now."

A look of dim shock passed over his features, realization of the weight of his words dawning on him. "Rukia, I-"

"Now."

There was no taking the words back, no reasoning their meaning away. It was best if he leave now before more damage could be done. Clamping his mouth shut, he walked out of her room and left her alone in the suffocating silence. When she heard the door close, her knees and temper gave way and she collapsed on the bed.

How could things have gotten so horribly skewed? She'd never planned on mending their relationship, knew she didn't deserve it, but for him to have said such a thing. . .

Ashido was the one who picked up her shattered pieces and taught her how to gather herself up and live again. He was the one who taught her to harness the pain and suffering consuming her and put it to good use. If anyone knew what she endured after the loss of Kaien, it was him, and that was why his words were like a gaping wound to her heart.

Jealousy was a snarling fiend that twisted good people to say and do cruel things, and Ashido was not immune. In time she might forgive him, but for now all she wanted to do was sleep and pretend none of this happened. Ashido hadn't come into her room. They hadn't nearly fallen into bed together. He hadn't disparaged her relationships with Kaien and Ichigo. He was still the level-headed, even-keeled Ashido she'd grown fond of.

A knock on the door summoned her from the bedroom. Begrudgingly she clambered off the bed and shuffled to the door. Opening it, she half expected to see Aizen standing there. It would be a nice way to top off her day. Here's a dose of nostalgia followed by a ruined relationship, oh, and the man who destroyed your life.

Thankfully it was only a hotel employee. A large white bag was draped over one arm, and he held a smaller bag with unlabeled boxes in the other.

"Delivery for a Ms. Rukia Kuchiki."

She eyed the items suspiciously, then realized they were clothes for the gala. She thanked the employee and took the bags. Inside the large one was her dress. Just laying there she could tell it was exquisite. Putting it on, she had to admit the Agent's taste in fashion was impeccable. The gown was black with a subtle sparkle that glistened in the light like starlight on a cloudless night. The heart-shaped curve of the neckline sat uncomfortably low and would have been considered scandalous except for the intricate black lace that branched out from the edging into a sophisticated pattern, touching just below her collarbone. The lace continued across her shoulders, and danced down her arm just past her elbows, trailing off like brush strokes.

Studying herself in the mirror, Rukia felt like a piece of art. A piece of art that couldn't run, even in the simple black heels from the box.

With the elaborate design of the lace, Rukia felt no need to wear any of the accessories the agent had gotten for her. There was only one piece she was interested in - a jeweled comb that curled and twisted like vines. She pulled her hair up and away from her face into a loose french twist and pinned the comb into the crease. She would have to forgo any makeup, having packed none of her supplies. Even without it, she felt she looked fairly good. She would need that confidence to face Ashido again.

Glancing at the clock, she realized they had less than an hour before they needed to be at the gala and still be considered fashionably late. As she reached for the door to head down to the lobby there was a knock.

"I'm sorry, I was just finishing up-" Rukia stalled when she opened the door and saw Ichigo standing there. She'd never seen him dressed formally. Even during events at the Consulate, he'd only gone so far as to dress in black button downs and black slacks. He was there to guard, not mingle, he'd told her. Now, with no excuse to fall back on, he wore a tuxedo almost perfectly tailored for him. The smooth black material hugged his frame from his broad shoulders to his narrow hips. His hair was still a bit unruly, but somehow it worked with the outfit.

"I knew you'd look good in a tux," she said with a blithe smile.

"You look. . . not so bad yourself," Ichigo managed. She might have been insulted if not for his wide eyes hinting at surprise and something else. Ashido's words practically slapped her across the face and she felt her warm cheeks grow cold.

"So eloquent," she prodded, forcing a curve to her lips. It didn't matter what Ashido thought. Her relationship with Ichigo was more than just a need to fill a hole. They might have looked similar, but Ichigo and Kaien were different people. Where Kaien had been easygoing and playful, Ichigo was intense and sardonic. Kaien could take her remarks in stride and dismantle them with ease, Ichigo shot back with equal bite. She expected just as much now.

He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks a pale pink. "Sorry, I suppose 'stunning' is a better description."

Her heart stuttered.

She hadn't expected that. Kaien might have said something similar, but his delivery would have been smooth and smoldering, resulting in a quick dalliance before going about their day. This awkward confession should have been nothing except adorable in its stumblings but was enough to catch her breath. Why was that?

This was Ashido's fault, she determined stubbornly. He'd sauntered in, seduced her, and left her feeling heady, her body tingling. Now she was over thinking the smallest things. They needed to focus on the mission, and like in London and Japan, she and Ichigo would work together to meet that goal.

Author's Notes: Thank you guys so much for the responses to the last chapter. I was very concerned people would completely skip over that chapter because it was focused on Orihime. I'm so happy you guys gave her a chance and like what I've done with her so far. I hope I continue to make you guys happy on that front.

That being said. . . did you guys enjoy the little heated moment between Rukia and Ashido? I've never really done romance / steamy scenes before. I hope I did it well. I know you guys would prefer it to have been Ichigo, but the two of them aren't quite there yet.

Thanks to all those who favorited and followed the story, and a special thanks to those of you who left reviews: lightdesired, Harveyman, NieveDrop (who I seem to be stalking in some weird way lol), yocel, Haru, and gin. I'd like to give a super special thanks to IchiRuki 4vr, who read through all of For Blood and For Love, leaving a trail of lovely reviews for nearly every chapter!

If you guys are interested in the inspiration for Rukia's dress, here's a link (I think it should work). Normally I don't like relying on images, but the dress is fairly complex and I don't think I did it justice.

Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and will R&R!

Edit 2/25/17: FF doesn't allow for the posting of links in the chapters, so you can find the link for Rukai's dress in my profile.