Author's Soundtrack:
What Does This Mean by Ramin Djawadi

Chapter Ten

The others were already gathered in the lobby. Agent Inoue stood in the center of a group of other FCA agents, giving orders and looking regal in her elegant black gown. It was considerably more conservative than Rukia's with nothing revealing or risque except for a long slit traveling the length of her leg, almost to her hip. A delicate pattern of beaded swirls added a floral-shaped dash of gold. The dress was meant to flatter her curvaceous figure and long legs without drawing too much attention, perfect for blending into the background. Although, Rukia wasn't so sure the agent could cloak her presence even if she tried. Her warm smile and alluring physique drew eyes no matter how she tried to conceal herself.

Her agents were professional, but even they were having difficulty keeping their eyes where they should be.

Hideki and Ashido stood off to the side, both dressed in tuxedos and speaking quietly with one another. When Ashido's eyes landed on her, feelings of resentment, disappointment, regret, and frustration fought for dominance. His words thrashed about her her mind, inciting the emotions further and leaving her battered. Then his eyes settled on Ichigo, his jaw tightening in clear distaste, and a flash of indignation coursed through her like an intense wildfire burning away all other thoughts and emotions.

Chin in the air, she approached the American Agent with the grace and pride Kuchiki's were renowned for, pointedly ignoring Ashido's gaze as he tracked her and Ichigo across the room.

"Are we ready to go?"

Agent Inoue smacked one of her agents, a young man gawking as his looked between the two of them. Snapping his mouth closed, he nodded to his superior and hurried off. Rukia might have been pleased to illicit such a reaction when she stood beside someone of Agent Inoue's caliber, if she weren't busy trying to look indifferent and professional.

Agent Inoue smiled. "Yes. Agent Howard is fetching the limo now."

"Is a limo really necessary?"

"For an exclusive gala event? Of course it is." The agent gave her a friendly wink. Rukia wasn't entirely convinced her reasons were purely for the good of the mission, but if the agent was willing to spend her funds on extravagance who was she to argue? "I'm glad I picked that dress. You look absolutely amazing in it. Your small size is perfect for this kind of stuff. I would never be able to fit into anything like that."

Out of habit, Rukia's eye twitched at the mention of her stature. The agent's casual air indicated she meant no offense, and considering the dress did, in fact, fit perfectly, she was willing to give her a pass.

When the limo arrived, they all clambered inside. Thankfully, Agent Inoue sat between Rukia and Ashido. At the moment she had no interest is sitting beside him. Admittedly, it was childish and passive aggressive, but it was for the best. They had a mission to complete. Keeping her distance was the best way to ensure they avoided any further altercations that could have a significant impact on its success.

The limo pulled up to a short building of modern design, with dips and curves that gave it's silver-white walls an intriguing shape. Security blocked both ends of the road, checking each vehicle before allowing it to pass. A red carpet stretched from the street to the glass entrance. A throng of paparazzi and reporters flanked either side, shouting guests names and taking pictures with bright flashes of light. A celebrity was walking ahead of them - someone Rukia vaguely recalled being on the cover of several magazines - taking her time to stop and pose several different ways. Rukia grew steadily annoyed and considered pushing past her to get through the doors. There were more important things to attend to than speculating at what designer the woman was wearing and if she could turn a little more to the right.

When they finally got inside, the atmosphere suffered a dramatic shift from the noisy chaos to an elegant and refined ambiance. The deep strings of a cello and gentle keys of a grand piano soothed her ragged nerves as they played The Carnival of the Animals: XXII the Swan. Colorful statues that twisted gracefully and large paintings filled the main floor of the gallery. The ceiling stretched four floors with a wall of glass. Outside, a large fountain covered the exterior courtyard, dropping off into the bay and giving an artist's thoughts on the juxtaposition of man-made versus natural. What those thoughts were, exactly, she didn't know or care. They wouldn't affect whether or not she would meet the First.

Still early in the night, there were only a few guests, most milling about the main floor, sipping champagne and discussing the pieces. In the center of the room was enough space for an older couple dance, smiling happily in their own little world.

No where did she see Coyote Starrk. Not on the main floor, and not on any of the balconies spanned the length of the room.

"There are a total of three floors that are open to guests this evening," Agent Inoue explained in a quiet voice, "and a fourth floor that is closed off to guests. He could be on any of them or somewhere else entirely. If you can't find him, you can wait him out. He'll have to make an appearance to rub elbows with the the donors."

"We could split up and see if we can find him ourselves before then," Ichigo considered.

"Mr. Kurosaki and I can remain on the main floor, while Agent Yamamoto and Agent Thompson explore the third floor. Councilor Kuchiki and Agent Kano can search the second. Once we're sure he's not there, we can consider other options."

Any good will Rukia felt towards Agent Inoue evaporated with this simple suggestion. It was as if she sensed the tension between herself and Ashido and was forcing them to deal with it. She didn't appreciate her meddling, especially as the agent slipped her arm around Ichigo's and dragged him deeper into the gallery and out of sight. Yet, much to her chagrin, she could see the logic behind the pairings. No one group would have an advantage over the other should they find Starrk first. The Americans weren't supposed to be involved, but that didn't mean Agent Inoue wasn't going to find a way to be included.

Rukia wasn't sure if the woman was brilliant or a pest.

Hideki and Agent Thompson made their way to the third floor. Daring to look over at her partner for the night, she caught him studying her. "Caught" was perhaps the wrong word. That implied he was sneaking glances rather than blatantly peering at her like he was.

He didn't say anything, simply waited, standing stiffly as if any sudden movement or sound would startle her. Turning with forced indifference, she made her way to the stairs. Lifting the hem of her dress, she began the slow torturous climb to the next level. Her heels were manageable, but she didn't want to risk stepping on the hem of her dress and toppling down the stairs. He followed along beside her like a tall shadow. They reached the landing and walked down the hall. Galleries lined one side and the balcony opened up on the other, looking down on the main floor and out the wall of glass. Below she could see the other guests wandering about. The elderly couple was still dancing.

Not many guests were exploring the upper floors just yet, making it easier to inspect the smaller rooms and see if Starrk was hiding in any of them. Together, the pair of them searched in terse silence. Unfortunately, the steady solitude and quiet seemed to encourage Ashido to speak up.

"Rukia."

She didn't stop, stepping into the third gallery and taking a look around.

"Rukia," he tried again.

Again, she ignored him and glanced around the corner of a temporary wall. It wasn't about giving him the cold shoulder, but more about giving herself time to consider how to deal with him. Did she give him an opportunity to say his piece or allow herself the privilege of reveling in her anger. But Ashido's patience was limited. Before she could step back into the hall and move on to the next gallery, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the gallery, using the temporary wall as a shield from onlookers.

His fingers wrapped around her arm firmly. She narrowed her eyes and lowered her gaze to his grip. It was tight, not enough to cause bruising, but that didn't matter.

"Let go."

Her voice was quiet, a hush barely audible in the stark stillness of the gallery, but the warning was clear. If he didn't remove his hand from her arm, she would do it for him.

He didn't, either because he was being pig-headed or courageous in his attempt to have her hear him out. She tugged her arm in an effort to break free of his grip, but he held fast.

"Ashido, I swear if you don't let me go-"

"Please, just listen."

She didn't know if it was the desperation in his voice or the vulnerability in his eyes that caused her to hesitate, dousing some of the ire that had been eating away at her, but she stopped struggling. His fingers loosened but remained on her arm.

"I'm sorry. I should have never spoken to you like that. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair to you or Kaien. And who you spend your time with is your business."

He paused, waiting for her to interrupt or say something. When she said nothing. He continued.

"The minute I saw Kurosaki I recognized the likeness to that portrait you used to keep. I thought I knew the gist of it - your relationship. How could you not be together when he looked like that, when he looks at you like that? But I thought that's all it was - all he was. He might look like him, but that didn't mean he could match him. That's why I went to your room. I wanted to confirm whether or not you had really moved on, or if he was some sort of placeholder and there was still a chance for. . ."

He tore his eyes away for a moment, and then met her gaze again. "I only meant to go there to talk. Then I saw you, smelled you coming out of that bath and I. . ." he hung his head in shame. "I'm man enough to admit I lost some of my control. And you responded the way you used to, so I thought there was a chance we could pick up where we left off."

Rukia's cheeks warmed, embarrassed by her own shameless behavior.

"When you rebuffed me I was so mad. I figured I knew the truth of it, and that you were lying to yourself, and to me, to spare my feelings." There was a fracture in the veil of regret, a tension that hinted at the animosity he felt, and it wasn't unwarranted. She had wronged him, in her room and all those years ago, but she couldn't allow him to aim his anger at her towards Ichigo.

"Ichigo and I are not in that kind of relationship."

His eyes snapped to hers, searched them to see if they were hiding anything - the truth in order to protect Ichigo. Whatever he found there, she didn't care. She would tell him the truth, that her intentions towards him were motivated by her desire to see him happy and with someone far more deserving of his loyalty and dedication than herself. She couldn't force him to believe it, but he would find no deceit in her words.

"How much do you know about the events regarding Sousuke Aizen?"

Ranked as one of the Japanese Council's most valued spies and hunters, Ashido was trusted with sensitive information, but there was plenty he wasn't privy to. The vague details he'd shared with the Lady seemed like disinterest at the time, but in reality might be from a lack of knowledge.

Shifting uncomfortably, he considered what to tell her. She was no longer a part of the Japanese Council, anything he told her could be considered an act of treason. But she had been at the center and knew more than the Genryuusai himself.

"I know exactly what I told the Lady."

If she explained the situation, revealed everything to him, he would see Rukia and Ichigo's relationship for what it truly was, would know it wasn't some trist meant to satiate her physical desires and loneliness.

So she started at the beginning, or what she saw as the beginning - the first attack on the Harvest Chamber. It was the lynchpin in Ichigo's life, the moment he was dragged into their world. From the moment they stood in front of the hospital he'd been trying to protect her, concerned about her when they were nothing but strangers. As a result, he'd lost everything.

When she recounted Ichigo's transformation, Ashido tensed with shock, his eyes large with wonder and astonishment. He knew what it meant, how difficult of a decision it was for her to make. Tenderly he pulled her him. There were no hidden motives, no selfish intentions, only the longing to comfort a friend who had suffered to make an impossible choice. The gesture meant more to her than she thought it might, warming her heart and filling her with a sense of acceptance she felt keenly.

She had missed this, having someone who could listen quietly and empathize with her and her struggles. It was what had drawn her to him in the first place. It was what made her stay. And it was unfair for her to continue to abuse that relationship when she could offer him nothing in return. So she thanked him and finished her story - their story.

By the end of it, she felt completely drained. There was nothing left for her to feel. She expected her visit to the States to be an emotional journey, but not in this way.

Ashido led her out to the balcony, keeping his hand on the small of her back. It was enough to give her comfort without pushing the newly established boundaries. She leaned on the rail. More couples were dancing to the Butterfly Waltz, their patterned movements and gentle swaying hypnotizing and soothing.

She didn't mean to look for them, but her eyes found Ichigo and Agent Inoue dancing. The woman was surprisingly balletic, capable of leading Ichigo through a proper waltz with little effort. His form was decent, considering his young age and lack of training - back strong, arms supportive, though a little loose, as he held his partner close. As they danced, they scanned the room, searching for their target. They worked well together.

There was a twinge of something she immediately brushed aside. She had no more energy left for another bout of emotions.

She waited for Ashido to say something, reflect on what she had told him, but they were interrupted before he could speak.

"Ms. Kuchiki. Mr. Kano."

A woman stood behind them. She wore a modest white dress that hugged her curves comfortably with elbow-length sleeves. Rukia would describe her as very sleek and stern except for the shocking aqua color of her hair. She was young, or appeared to be so, but her cinnamon eyes spoke of the years she had seen. While she looked professional, she seemed out of place for the gala.

"My name is Nelliel," she introduced herself in Japanese. There was a slight accent, almost Hispanic, but it was barely detectable. "I have a message from Mr. Starrk."

Rukia and Ashido straightened, giving her their full attention.

"I understand you have both come a long way in an attempt to meet with him, however, he will not be taking a private meeting tonight or in the future. I hope you both will enjoy the rest of your evening."

The brisk denial was like a slap to the face, and Rukia felt her heart plummet with the weight of disappointment. She hadn't realized how high her hope had been their mission would be successful. The Lady hinted her presence alone might make a meeting possible, but it appeared that wasn't the case. Did Starrk know she was of his bloodline? If he knew the truth, would he be willing to meet with her? Was she willing to use blood ties to persuade him?

"Why?" Ashido demanded, managing to keep his voice from rising and disrupting the festivities below.

Nelliel bowed her head in apology. "While Mr. Starrk appreciates the effort and lengths you've gone through to find and reach out to him, he, unfortunately, cannot accommodate you."

She turned to leave, but Ashido reached out and hooked her elbow. She froze, her eyes slowly traversing down to where his hand lay. Hard brown turned on dark grey and Ashido quickly released his hold on her.

"Sorry," he hissed, as if suffering from a severe burn, "but you have to understand, I need to speak with him. The Japanese Council-"

"Mr. Kano," Nelliel interrupted, her voice and stance rigid and unmovable. "You have my sincerest apologies, but his decision is made. Now, if you will both excuse me." Bowing politely, she turned and left.

Running his hands through his hair, Ashido growled and cursed, then slammed his fist into the marble column beside him. She flinched as the soft stone crumbled beneath his knuckles. The music carried on uninterrupted.

"We could try again," Rukia offered. This was their first real attempt to get in touch with Starrk. It wasn't like either of them to give up on the first try.

Shaking the dusty residue from his hand, he gave her a terse smile. "Oh I will. It may not be here or even tonight, but I'll try again. That woman, she isn't just some secretary, and pissing her off even more than I already have would be dangerous. I'd rather give her a chance to cool down before a second attempt."

There was no mistake that Nelliel wasn't just a vampire. Something about her set the pair of them on edge, nagging voices telling them to tread carefully despite their skills and experience.

"In the end," Ashido continued, "if we still don't meet him it's not going to change the fact we need to deal with Aizen and the threat he poses. The chancellors will have to convince the others to get their shit together without the First getting involved."

Taking a deep, calming breath, he turned his eyes to her. Reaching out, he nearly grazed her jawline with his knuckles, but dropped his hand to the side. "Thank you, for listening to me, and for telling me about what happened. I. . ." He hesitated, clearly wanting to continue, but thought better of it. "I'll see you back at the hotel."

It didn't feel right to let him walk away, but what else could she offer him? In the end, it was the same as before. She took from him what she needed and gave him nothing. Sighing, she leaned on the rail and wondered if anything had been resolved.

"Ms. Kuchiki?"

Nelliel stood beside her, holding out a stark white business card. Her name, Nelliel Tu Odelschwank, was printed in neat clear font on the front. Flipping it over, an address in sweeping script was on the back.

"Be there by midnight. Come alone."

And then she was gone, leaving Rukia baffled. It was an invitation, the one both she and Ashido had hoped to receive, but it was for her alone. Did she tell him? It felt wrong to keep this a secret after they'd managed to mend some part of the collapsing bridge that was their relationship, but to bring him along would risk ruining this one opportunity. If she met the First, she could get the answers to both of their questions. Convinced he would agree with her decision, she determined anything important, she could share with him as soon as she returned.

But what did she tell Ichigo?

To leave him behind would be an insult and a broken promise she was intent on keeping. They were in this together, but if that meant they couldn't make any progress, would he be willing to separate?

Ichigo's head crested the stairs and he made his way down the hall towards her. Glancing down at the floor below, Rukia spotted Orihime with Hideki and Agent Thompson. Ashido wasn't in sight.

"What happened?" Ichigo asked as he joined her, his voice lined with concern and an edge of irritation.

"What do you mean?"

"Ashido is supposed to be with you and I just spotted him sneaking out a side exit looking like he'd gotten a demotion."

An apt choice of words, she thought with mild amusement. A demotion would certainly have an effect on him considering the pride he took in his work. "One of Starrk's people came to find us. He's refused to meet with him."

Ichigo waited a moment, shoving his hands in his pockets. "'Him' not 'we'?"

She handed him the card. "At midnight I'm supposed to go to that address. Alone."

As expected, he scowled and handed her the card back. "Like hell you're going by yourself. It could be a trap."

"There's a chance of that," she admitted, non-plussed. "But if I don't go, we could lose the opportunity to speak with Starrk."

Judging by the strained muscle in his neck, Ichigo wasn't bending. "I don't care. You're not going by yourself. We'll get what we need to some other way. And don't think you can just sneak off. I'll find you."

Rukia couldn't help the amused smirk that graced her lips. There was no doubt Ichigo would carry through with his threat. She would rather have him by her side when she faced Starrk and tell him the truth, then have Ichigo come barging in and upsetting everything. "All right."

Ichigo stared at her in disbelief, clearly expecting more of a fight. "Really?"

She nodded.

Ichigo's features grew more sincere. "That means he might not show."

"It does, but as much as I'd like to meet him, ask him my questions, I'm not going to cling to him for answers. I want to know the truth of what happened to me, of what this all means, but if I don't get answers then I don't. We'll continue hunting Aizen like we have been. Ashido's prepared to do the same."

Ichigo nodded, though looked doubtful. She stepped beside him, beginning the slow walk down the hall and towards the main floor. The scent of vanilla wafted towards her - Agent Inoue's scent. Something tugged at her, but she ignored it.

"We've got some time before the meeting. We can head back to the hotel, grab a shower, and get a change of clothes," Ichigo suggested, stepping into the place beside her.

Unbidden, the image of the pair of them showering together infiltrated her mind. Cursing and blaming Ashido, she chased her imaginings it away and focused on the conversation. "I would like to head back and change, and get my sword as well." The dress was lovely, and it had been nice getting dressed up once more, but now they needed to get back to work.

The corner of Ichigo's nose curled a little before he schooled his features.

"What?"

"I'd prefer it if you took a shower."

She stopped and glared at him. He flinched in reaction and began an emphatic apology.

"I didn't mean - I just - shit."

'Shit' was right. No woman, no matter her feelings towards a person, liked to be told she needed a shower. It was insulting, and - though she wasn't keen to admit it - a little painful.

When he continued to flounder, she chose to drop the matter entirely and start to head downstairs. Before she could reach the landing he took hold of her by the wrist.

"Wait, let me explain."

The feeling of his hand wrapped around her arm felt different than when Ashido had done it. Warm waves pulsed up the length of her arm, stemming her temper rather than fueling it. When he released her, Rukia felt surprisingly cold.

"His scent is all over you," he turned his gaze away bashfully.

She frowned, confused as to who she could smell like, and then it clicked. There was only one other person she could smell like. Given the way she'd wrapped herself around him earlier, his scent must be fairly strong. Realization dawned on her. Agent Inoue more than likely put two and two together and thought she would give the pair of them some time alone. Although her assumptions had been incorrect, Rukia couldn't help but feel grateful. It gave them time to talk and clear the air, even if things were still a bit foggy.

Given Ichigo's dislike of the man, it was understandable that he would be displeased with smelling him on her. A shower seemed a bit extreme, but she was tired and uninterested in picking a fight.

"I'll take a quick shower when we get back."

"Don't bother," he grumbled. "It doesn't matter if you're going to end up smelling like him again."

Someone clearly wanted a fight. Irritation flared to life at his presumption. Why was everyone making assumptions about her love life? Like Ashido, she would set Ichigo straight on the matter. "The chances of that happening are minimal. The only reason I smell like him now is because he came to my room earlier." She held up a hand to keep him quiet when he started to ask a question. "We established where our relationship currently stands."

"And where is that, exactly?"

She started to answer and realized she wasn't too sure herself. They weren't lovers. That was easy enough to answer. They weren't enemies either. They were in some kind of nebulous place that shifted to and fro with no real form. How did she explain that?

"It's. . ." she searched for the words, "complicated. Hold on!"

Ichigo had started to turn away from her, but she clutched his arm. "Let me at least explain." He studied her dubiously but didn't move.

The last place she wanted to go was to that part of her past. It had been so long ago, but the memories of it were still sore and she feared reopening those wounds. But like Ashido, Ichigo deserved to hear the truth.

"Ashido and I first met a little more than a century ago. At that point in my life, I wasn't a Hunter. I'd heard of them, of what they did, and decided I wanted to train with them. It was a decade or so after I. . ." she took a shaky breath and continued, "after I lost my husband. I wasn't in a good place, and I wasn't much better when I arrived. I was furious, bitter, and looking for someone or something to take it out on. Ashido was training the hunter team when I joined. He helped me take those emotions and focus them to my advantage. He was patient and understanding, but unwilling to give me any slack. With time he made me into a good hunter and helped me to move past my grief."

She wanted to keep her explanation brief and concise, not wanting to linger lest she tore open those wounds, but she ended up telling him everything. Those years following Kaien's death were drenched in suffocating darkness. Very poor decisions were made and her family continued to grow increasingly concerned for her health and well-being. When she'd suggested becoming a hunter they were split. The role was dangerous, but it was the first time she'd shown interested in anything in years. And Ashido's record spoke for itself. For over half a century he had grown his reputation for training some of the best hunters in the territory. She would be safe with him.

The first day she arrived he put her in line. She wasn't permitted to work with the team or go on any hunts until she proved herself capable. It took a few months, and he didn't take it easy on her. Didn't baby her. Didn't pity her. She'd hated him, but she'd respected him as well. She came to him a destroyed shell of a girl and left almost a completely whole woman.

It was difficult to remember how their love affair began. They'd gotten separated from the team when they were on some mission, holed up in a makeshift tent waiting for the weather to clear. They were arguing about something stupid - the best approach to luring out their target or something similar. It got heated, their tempers high due to the amount of trouble they'd already run into. One thing led to another and continued for quite some time after that.

She wasn't sure when she knew Ashido loved her. He never confessed, probably never planned to. It was bad enough they were having an illicit relationship while in the same unit, to admit to loving her was adding another level of risk. She convinced herself his feelings would wane. Even after everything that happened between them, how much he'd helped her, she still wasn't ready for that kind of commitment. Her heart still belonged to Kaien.

But those feelings of his didn't change. When she realized he was willing to put it all aside for her, risk everything he worked for to maintain a relationship she knew wasn't worth someone as good as he was, she chose to leave.

Her father was beginning to establish the Harvest Chambers, and was thrilled with the prospect of her joining him. When the paperwork was made official, she ended things. She could have been more civil when she told him she wanted to move on, but he'd been so insistent on keeping things going, it was the only way she thought to end things. Clearly, that hadn't worked.

"Ashido never wanted to end things, but I didn't give him a choice or say in the matter. Once I was back with my family, I was unreachable. And then," she clenched her jaw, her throat swelling and making it difficult to breathe. "Then my family was killed. And, well, you know the rest."

Rukia watched the cellist slide the bow across her strings, the motion of her arm soft and graceful. It calmed the torrent of emotions that beat at her like a blistering storm.

"London was the first we'd seen one another since then. The way he acted, I thought he had moved on like I hoped. If he was still mad or in love with me, I would have expected a stronger reaction. Once we were here, though. . . He came to my room and tried to pick up where we left off."

Ichigo was silent, but his gaze was intense, waiting anxiously for her to continue.

"I think we're finally on the same page. That part of our lives is over. There's no going back to it, and he understands that now."

"Why?" She could see the regret on his face as soon as the words were out. What he was afraid of in her answer, she wasn't sure, but she would be honest. Her fingers tightened their hold on his arm in what she hoped was a comforting squeeze.

"Because I don't want to go back. Despite everything that has happened in the past two years, I'm content with where I'm at in my life. "

She gave his arm another squeeze and took a step away. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him. She nearly tripped into his arms. Pressing her hands to his chest, she righted herself. One arm slipped around her back and held her close. Her heart pounded in her ears and she stared up at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Just be quiet and dance with me."

She thought to argue with him, none too thrilled he was ordering her around, but being in his arms sent waves of consoling warmth coursing through her. Her heart hurt. The memories, long ago put behind a wall and banished to the far reaches of her mind, scattered and laying exposed to the elements. It was better for her to be alone, to gather them all up, piece by piece, and rebuild it on her own, but he was right beside her. It was pathetic. Ichigo was her bodyguard and protector in name only. He was her responsibility, not the other way around. And yet, she couldn't push him away, couldn't slip from the blanket of warmth and security he wrapped around her. It was wrong to take advantage, but for now, she would indulge herself

Author's Note: Not a lot of action in this chapter - well, none except for a lot of arm grabbing. After the last chapter, I wanted to delve further into Rukia and Ashido's relationship and history. I know left things kind of vague in the previous chapter, and I hope this one helps explain where both of them are coming from.

I want to thank the guest who left an amazing (and monstrous) review. I wish I could have responded to you in PM, but I think it's probably good to respond here as well, for others who might have felt the same way about the last chapter. You left such a great analysis and criticism of Rukia and the chapter. I know you were unhappy with how she treated Ashido, feeling that she wasn't the only victim in this. You're totally right, and Rukia knows she wronged him in a multitude of ways. I hope that came across more in this chapter, although I'm sure it didn't resolve all your qualms with her attitude. To be fair to Rukia, in the hotel room she might have handled the situation a bit differently if Ashido hadn't implied she was fucking (and I use that term specifically because it reflects Ashido's view and intended implication of Rukia and Ichigo's relationship) Ichigo simply because he looked liked Kaien. This was particularly cruel to Rukia because Ashido was there for the aftermath of Kaien's death. He knew what Kaien meant to her, and his insinuation felt like he was insulting her love for Kaien.

That being said, I know everything isn't really resolved, but I hope this chapter helped explain a bit more of the last chapter. And don't worry, Ashido and Orihime aren't just plot devices intended to push Ichigo and Rukia together ;). They're here for a reason and they will have their roles to play as the story moves forward.

Thank you and several others who have said similar things, for trusting in my writing and waiting to see how things play out. I know I have a habit of withholding information from you guys, and you trusting that I'll explain and flesh things out is the best compliment I've received. Thank you so much and I hope I continue to earn that trust and don't disappoint you guys!

Thanks to those who favorited and followed, and to those who left reviews: Haru, NieveDrop, the amazing guest who left the essay, and MugetsuIchigo. I love reading your guy's thoughts on the chapters. Please continue to R&R!

P.S. I discovered today that FF doesn't allow for the posting of links. So, if you'd like to see Rukia's dress, you can find it in my profile.