Bleach 1. Payment

AN: don't own Bleach. Oh and there is a reason for the rating. Enjoy :)

Title: Payment

Pairing: UraharaxRukia

Summary: Desperate to help Ichigo control his inner Hollow, Rukia runs to Urahara for guidance...but what she doesn't expect is the price he asks of her.

"How may I help you, Ms. Kuchiki?"

"You know why I'm here," she spoke calmly, betraying nothing in her manner to indicate the gravity of the situation, still, her eyes rested on the tall sandy-blond haired man waving a paper fan breezily even though the air was chilly being not the least unseasonable for the time of year.

"Maybe." Kisuke teased, snapping the folds shut briskly, then, coyly peering over the top of the closed fan into her face, seeing the inner worry she tried so hard to hide. "Ichigo is it?" he spoke knowledgably, which she assented with a curt nod.

"Can you help him?" there she had said it. Nobody knew she was here, nobody thought she'd be so bold as to address the sole person responsible for the monster born inside the deputy Soul reaper. A fact he never denied nor accounted for and probably wouldn't ever, she thought, keeping the ex Captain in sight while he paced a few steps, presumably deep in thought.

"Perhaps…I can help young Ichigo—"

"Uh huh," she interrupted impatiently, eager to leave the confines of the dusty shop. Kisuke suddenly stopped pacing, his face in partial shadow turned toward her, "but…Ms. Kuchiki, what are you willing to _give_ me in return?"

"Oh that's easy," she dismissed airily, "how much do you want?" Figuring on the greed complex of the Shoten owner, a great sum to be named. Kisuke smiled a little, shaking his head at her naivety, "you don't understand. It's _not_ money I want."

He had her there.

"Not…money? Then what?" her mouth creased into a confused frown, as her mind suspicious always of his motives bandied about other things he might possibly be interested in. "If it's with Soul society, I can't help you there…"

"Guess."

How she hated his twisted little games. "Fine," her eyes rolled to the ceiling then back to him, "a new hat."

"No. Guess again."

"Something for Yoruichi."

"Last chance."

In desperation, Rukia opened and closed her mouth several times, each time the words dying in her throat. Finally she gestured wildly, "I don't know…_me_."

Kisuke was quiet, so quiet that she wondered the reason.

If her guess was wrong then he should just say so.

After a long moment, he shifted, shrugging luxuriantly, "you got me."

"What?"

A humorless laugh startled her; Kisuke had used a flash step to cover the distance between them. "Surprised…" he smiled faintly, "no?" He caught the hand that shot out meaning to push him away. Rukia at once alarmed refused to show it and stared boldly up into his indiscernible expression. "Just what the hell do you mean, Urahara?"

"Exactly how it sounds, Ms. Kuchiki." The ex Captain's smile grew wider at the ferocity blazing in her eyes, with minimal effort he pulled her closer to whisper softly against her earlobe, "one night is all I ask and then you'll have my full cooperation in doing whatever I can for Ichigo."

Her body grew taut and she yanked away, stepping back, "you're mad."

Kisuke turned to the side, listening to the heavy tread of Tessai coming back from an errand, so that only one half of his face was visible to her.

"Take it or leave it."

"No." Rukia spun on her heel and had gone halfway through the aisle before his voice stopped her.

"Remember, Ms. Kuchiki, there is always a _price_."

Her head dropped, her hands clenched in the way her jaw might have even though no trace of anger blurred her words, "when?"

Kisuke drew out his fan once again, "tomorrow night. I can arrange for the shop to be empty."

"Fine."

He watched her leave, an invisible burden weighing down her shoulders like a millstone.

~~~*~~~

The appointed time came sooner then she had expected. The morning passing by in the blink of an eye, questions about her well being asked when her face was averted and her mood pensive; had she really agreed to a rendezvous with Kisuke Urahara?

What had possessed her to do such a thing?

Rukia's eyes traveled over to the slumped form of the deputy Soul reaper, his head on the desktop, her friend and then she remembered.

It was for him.

All for him…

~~~*~~~

Kisuke let her in the front entrance. The store shelves covered with sheets lending an aura of gloom to the dimly lit room. Rukia had worn her school uniform, hoping for no sick fetish other than what she wore to present itself during the night. Kisuke eyed her up and down approvingly, "pleasant night, Ms. Kuchiki—or may I address you as _Rukia_?"

"I don't care." Her arms were crossed resolutely over the gray jacket. Kisuke saw the grim determination in her face and chuckled shortly. "Come along. There's a room prepared in the back." He led her into the maze of small rooms connected by a hallway, with every step her trepidation grew.

What had she gotten herself into?

The room was bare with only a cotton mattress on the floor and the sheets rolled back, _not even a pillow_. Oh well she supposed it was only for sex and that meant sleep wasn't in the plan.

"Is this your first time?" Kisuke asked quietly behind her.

"No!" she turned on him, "and not with Ichigo!"

"Oh…" the ex Captain fit the key in the lock, leaving it to dangle there, "I was on the verge of a jealous fit. Assuming of course that you had given it up to the unworthy Mr. Kurosaki."

"Cut the crap, Kisuke, and get on with it!" Rukia snapped, turning her back once more; then was startled by the possessive arms that wrapped around her middle suddenly, a moist mouth following to plant a trail of light sucks on the sensitive skin of her throat.

"Uh…unh…wait!" she twisted in his hold, her cheeks burning.

"What's the matter?" Kisuke sounded amused.

Rukia glared, then shook her head, "never mind."

"If you say so…" he took her in his arms again, nipping as well as sucking, his breath warmed her skin and her eyes closed, the sensation of warmth spreading from her belly downward. She wiggled a little against him and he mumbled something that she didn't understand, on her throat.

"Wha…unh…uh…" soft moans left her parted lips, a moistness leaked out into the crotch of her panties and her eyes flew open, her hand to her mouth.

"Now what?"

Her heart pounded and her body felt strangely…limpid and hot.

"N-Nothing. Let's get on with it."

Roughly he folded her against him, his hand shoving up her skirt to the elastic waistband of her panties. "Hey, do—" her words died in her throat when he plunged in, unmindful of the sudden flinch from the touching of her tender parts. Fire ran along the skin that his fingers stroked, her resistance crumbled away at the entry of his forefinger inside.

"You're almost ready," he commented sounding surprised for once. She didn't answer rather couldn't for the explosive heat enveloping her clit as he vigorously pumped her. "Aahh…Kisuke…unh…" his name left her lips like a prayer feeling the wet folds part, more digits entering. Deeper, harder, the pressure was beginning to become unbearable, her legs spread apart, the panties pooling at her feet. Her body suddenly tightened, he held her and then she climaxed, the fluid trailing down the insides of her thighs and oozing from his fingers.

Rukia was breathless for a moment, her chest heaving, her eyes went to the blatant evidence of her immediate sexual arousal and then rose to the faint smile on the ex Captain's face. She inhaled sharply, backing up until the backs of her heels met the side of the thin mattress, letting herself sink down. She lay back, opening her legs wide to his gaze.

"Well?" she snapped, "aren't you going to fuck me?"

An eyebrow cocked, "tsk, impatient as ever, Ms. Kuchiki," Kisuke murmured, untying the sash from his pants.

Rukia was unable to keep from smiling a little at the teasing note his voice carried.

~~~Finis~~~

AN: :) wanted to try something different and there you have it! :) Reviews are appreciated.


	2. Favor

Title: Favor

Pairing: GinxRukia

Summary: What was love when lust was easier, more satisfying?

Aizen owed him. Loyalty didn't come without its own price. Had it been Rangiku, what he desired would have been easy to attain. The woman was filled with that ridiculous emotion called _love_. What was love when lust was easier, more satisfying?

Gin puzzled over it, unable to fathom the depth of Rangiku's feelings.

He _knew_ he didn't love her.

She hadn't realized it yet, or maybe she had and just couldn't accept it.

Not that it mattered; Gin had already set his sights on another, more _unwilling_ prize.

~~~*~~~

"Can you do it?"

The other measured his words, "of course. _It_ can be done. But…might I ask…" Aizen stared into the bland face of the enigmatic third Division Captain, "…why _her_, Gin?"

Red eyes opened the slenderest of a fraction, the only change of countenance visible that indicated a slight hint of displeasure in his desire being questioned. "I wouldn't think…" he cocked his head at a peculiar angle, "you would be so surprised. After all we've known each other these long years, Sosuke." His voice became a low purr.

"No…I guess I shouldn't be. You've always taken a particular interest in that _girl_," brown eyes fell to the long sheathed blade atop the desk. _Kyokasuigetsu_. Aizen grasped it by the guard; a slightly twisted smirk curved his hard mouth, "consider it done."

~~~*~~~

Perfect hypnosis. Once it had a hold on someone it could not be broken, except by the wielder himself. She fell under it without even knowing what was happening. "Thank you, dear," Aizen started forward and caught her in a swoon. He lowered her limp body to the wooden floor, straightening and with a swift motion slid the water moon blade back into the scabbard at his hip.

"Thank you for responding to my summons," He jerked his head to the sliding door open just a crack into the next room, "_she's all yours_, Gin." The door retracted on the slider, the silver-haired man stepped in, his white haori flung over his arm.

"Oh good. I was worried Rukia…might become _suspicious_."

"No, no. If anything she is most obedient to her superior officers-especially in obeying anything they say," Aizen's smile held a glint of hidden meaning. Gin walked past him, dropping down to the unconscious Soul reaper's side.

"_Enjoy_ yourself."

"I will."

The opposite door slid shut.

Gin knelt closer to the petite girl's body, "Rukia…" he trailed one long forefinger down the side of her face. She trembled.

"Rukia…_brother's_ here. Wake up."

~~~*~~~

"B-Byakuya?" groggily her eyes fluttered open, the hazy figure of a tall man came into focus kneeling over her. Straight jet-black hair the tips just reaching his broad shoulders, the tiny clamps of the Kenseikan threading through his hair…_but why_? Rukia sat up with difficulty, her gaze wandering into that of the familiar man's, just…inches away.

Why was he staring at her like that?

Hunger glazing slate irises in an expression of near stony indifference.

It didn't…_feel right_.

"What're you doing here?"

She flinched at the harsh tone instead of the slap she expected, "Captain Aizen called me to his office."

"Don't be ridiculous," Byakuya gave her a long measured look, "this part of Fifth Division is closed off for renovations."

She lifted her gaze, only then noticing the absence of furnishings, the entire place gave off an aura of decrepit gloom that she couldn't believe she hadn't felt before. "But it—brother! I swear that it—"

"Come along," coldly he ordered, his hand extended to her. Trustfully she stretched her palm out; her eyes fell again to his fingers…long and slender like talons. She recoiled. "What is the matter?" he asked, seeming to not notice her brief revulsion. She looked again.

"Nothing."

He pulled her up, his fingers firm and dry.

She must've been imagining things.

Her footing however was lost a moment later in the taking of another step to the door. Her hand was tugged, her clumsiness forcing Byakuya to grab her suddenly. "S-sorry," alarmed as she was at her sudden weakness, her eyes grew even wider and her thoughts more confused when his lips crashed down onto hers.

His mouth was hard, demanding, in the act of pulling away, she was nipped-albeit playfully in the corner of her lip.

"B-Brother?" her confusion was evident when he roughly caressed her cheek. Her heart beat faster at his next words, "Hisana…"

~~~*~~~

Gin enjoyed the feeling of her resistance. Her eyes darkening in fear as his lips formed the name of her brother's dead wife. _They looked alike_, he knew. So much so that a man like Byakuya that had absolutely adored his late wife might take a carnal interest in her look-alike, eventually.

"I've always wanted you…"

He watched her squirm, her wrist held tightly in his fist.

"N-No—"

Gin threw her down, her tiny startled cry stirring his senses. "Rukia…you know you have to do what I say…" he teased, a smile on his lips, the loose sash unraveling.

"Byakuya…please…" she was on her back now, her legs sprawled out in front of her, her perfect little doll's face scrunched up in horror at what he was intimating. Gin pretended to fling away the Captains' haori, his amusement in seeing her look following the imaginary bundle as it came to rest by the wall, widening his smile.

"Rukia," he sank down on one knee, eyelevel to her, but remembering then to tilt his head so that in her mind it was as if her brother was there, unable to look her in the face. "Look at me," his long finger caught and turned her chin forcefully till her gaze was straight on.

"After all I've done for you…" he allowed a note of regret to creep into his voice, "…and you still deny me this one _favor_?"

"Favor?" she echoed, her eyes drifted down guiltily and he knew then that he'd struck her weakest point.

"Yes. I adopted you into the Kuchiki clan. I made you what you are now…but you _don't_ see that."

"No!" she sounded genuinely aggrieved. "It's alright," he soothed, cupping her chin and leaning in to press his lips to the skin there. He felt her gasp softly and she tried to pull away again.

"Rukia."

She flinched.

"You have to do what brother says," his grin twisted into a wicked leer, even though she didn't see it as hypnotized as her mind was.

"What…" her voice became quieter, "what do you want me to do?"

A whole sensual thrill coursed through his body at the sound of her compliant surrender.

"Start here," he stood, indicating below the waist. Her eyes blurry with shamed tears rose once to his face…seeing someone else, someone other than her brother.

Her skin crawled.

She stared.

She had been wrong.

It **was** her brother.

Gin watched her small form take up position, on her knees before him.

When the first of her ministrations began…

Then he knew he had won.

~~~Finis~~~

AN: these are meant to be open-ended one-shots. Just to let you know :) and yeah not really a lemon, more like innuendo. :P blame it on Gin! He wasn't being cooperative! :) Giggles, thank you and reviews are appreciated. Ps: you may request an unusual Rukia pairing, no Yuri! However I will require a title :) cheers!


	3. Damned

AN: this is wrong and twisted on so many levels…just read it already!

Title: Damned

Pairing: UlquiorraxRukia

Summary: In this darkly twisted one-shot, two siblings endure all that fate has to offer them until the day…Au!

I held her hand the day of our father's funeral. It rained that day, I remember, Rukia's tiny face was solemn beneath the wide-brimmed hat, her gaze turning up to meet mine, trust written in her sweet cupid's bow lips, "Ulqui-Nii-san?"

"Yes?"

"Will you leave me like daddy did?"

I looked into her face, into her eyes, dropping down to one knee, unconscious to the rain spilling buckets of tears onto the gravesite; we were alone.

"No," I held her tiny body tightly against me, feeling her shiver with the cold, "we'll always be together. You and I…my dearest Rukia."

~~~*~~~

I love her. And she loves me.

We kept house for a few years, supporting each other. Comforting through the long hard months after father's ashes were placed in the small stone vault, I wiped Rukia's tears away the day when our house was taken away—foreclosed on. Sold to another, happier family.

Her body was tight against mine, her sobs muffled into my jacket, her head fitting into the crook of my neck. "Hush," I said, enfolding her closer. The moving men glanced our way, gaping openly at our display of affection but I ignored them all.

The sky that day became a hard glassy gray, the heavens opening and pelting droplets raining down on us. The moving men cursed and hurried to finish, boots squelching in the rushing stream flowing down the gutter. My hair became plastered to my head, my face tilted up, challenging God, asking why, just why my sister and me had to lose more.

"Ulquiorra."

Her voice had become calmer in my embrace, slowly I looked into her pale glistening face, her short raven bangs drenched, our matching singular eyes of green met, "what is it, darling?"

Her sweet lips parted, "I won't lose you too, will I?"

I leaned down, our faces close together, "no, dear. I won't leave you," I brushed her lips lightly in reassurance. I heard the whispers of the neighbors gathered in their yards, watching us with suspicion in their sneers.

"_Aren't they brother and sister?"_

They don't understand us.

~~~*~~~

"I'm scared, Ulquiorra."

Her words were soft, timid. From my heavy sleep laden eyes, her figure was small, childish cowering in yellow plaid pajamas a stuffed rabbit in her arms. It was our third night in our new apartment. The ceiling leaked on rainy days such as this one, the carpets were cheap and threadbare. I longed to provide her with more. But for now…

"Come," I said, folding aside my blanket. I was getting old to be sharing beds with her. But feeling the tiny familiar body shyly crawl in, snuggling without hesitance or restraint to mine, I knew I couldn't deny her.

"Good night…" the touch and press of her lips halted my whisper. My hand slid across her back into her hair, curling around the strands. "Goodnight, Ulqui-Nii-san," she said happily unaware of my heart racing at the gentlest of pressures from her hips. My arms wrapped around her, "sweet dreams," I whispered, nuzzling into the side of her throat, inhaling her sweet scent.

I didn't understand what was happening to me.

~~~*~~~

In High school Rukia discovered the popularity she had so longed for in lesser grades. Her petite stature made her a favorite among the taller boys, the girls admiring her no-nonsense attitude. They giggled madly whenever I came home early, books propped open and snack bags open so I knew they were here under the pretext of studying.

"Good afternoon, Inoue-san," I said politely to the buxom girl lying on the floor. "Where is my sister?"

Slate gray eyes rolled to the opposite doorway and Rukia came bounding out, throwing her arms around my neck and smothering my greeting with her lips. She pulled back a little, ignoring the oohs and aahs from her girl friends.

"Hello, Ulqui-Nii-san."

I stared into her eyes, unable to look away, "hello, Rukia."

She giggled, fidgeting in my arms, unconsciously letting me feel every curve and firm roundness that defined her as female. My body began to react. I tried holding her at arms' length, backing up but feeling her cling possessively to me.

"Do you know what today is, Ulqui-Nii-san?"

I smiled a little, "not really. But from all your faces it must be something pretty special."

Inoue giggled behind her hand and Rukia slowly smirked, "you've been working so hard that you've forgotten your own birthday, silly!"

~~~*~~~

"Now blow out your candles all at once, only then will you get your wish," she instructed in all seriousness. I stared at the tiny round cake iced with emerald green letters with our initials spelled out on rich buttercream.

"Okay. Now."

We were in the semi-darkness of our tiny kitchenette; the flickering lights lit from the twenty candles bathed my sister's face in a kind of ethereal beauty. Then I knew.

"Hurry up!"

Silently I wished and just as silently blew out the candles, concentrating hard on it.

"There!" Rukia clapped her hands then turned to me on the barstool, "what'd you wish for?"

"If I tell you then it won't come true," I said quietly to her pout.

"That's not fair!"

"That's the way it is."

But I couldn't tell her. Just couldn't. It wasn't right and it was a sin. What I had wished for.

~~~*~~~

Her legs wrapped around my hips, in my hand the TV remote dangled loosely. We were on my bed watching late night TV. She couldn't sleep and neither could I. My eyes drifted from the blaring television set to her face, feeling the delightful squeeze she maintained on my waist. Her skirt was short, the ruffles hiked up her open thighs, my gaze drifted down to the pouch between them, my heart pounding.

"Rukia," I said, alarmed at the huskiness my voice had deepened into.

"Hmm?" she was busy combing her fingers through my hair, never noticing my hands curve over her waist. I twisted her around, bringing her tiny body beneath me. She lay on her back, her legs wide open I between them. Only her startled gasp as I knelt into her, the very hard male part of me grazing her inner thigh made me hesitate.

"Ulquiorra?" she wasn't so alarmed, her eyes staring up at me.

"Hush," I whispered, lowering my face to hers, she knew to lift her chin, her lips pouting to accept the kiss that had never been platonic from the start. I brushed my tongue over her bottom lip, playing for entrance, her mouth closing over mine suddenly, her hands leaving the coverlet to slide through my hair, pulling me closer, arching her body to fit into me.

My penis grew rigid, the head nudging her crotch; she curved around me, urging subtly the perfect shape of her womanhood to soothe the painful throbbing. I bruised her roughly, wondering at the way our bodies came together like we were made for each other. Her panties were sexy black silk, a luxury I'd worked for to give her, they slid off sinuously in my hands, her black curls moist with longing flattened out against the swell and inner rise of her sheath, her clit between the tiny folds, her scent spilling from it reaching my nostrils, my mouth watered, her body trembling at my probing.

"Ulquiorra…"

I looked into her eyes, telling her she needn't be frightened. Rukia stared back at me with all the love years of my sole care had given her. She bit her lip then slowly let go, her whisper a plea and a condemnation in one simple sentence. Something that I'd long to hear coming from her lips, full of breathless want, her need for me only deepening.

"I love you, Ulquiorra."

"I love you too, my dearest sister," I met her lips taking then what had been my right from the start.

Raindrops pelted our windowpanes, the steady staccato of water mingling in with the sounds of our lovemaking, gentle at first but as the soreness of her first time wore off, harder. More desperate, her cries became pleads, my name spilling from her lips even as my seed spilled into her opening and poured down her thighs. This was everything I had wished for: _for my sister to love me as I loved her_.

Call us sinful.

Call us damned.

But we know—she and I—our love is real.

~~~*~~~

AN: didn't I tell ya it was disturbing? ;) No flames allowed. But reviews are appreciated.

Note: in case Requiem's one-shot request isn't finis and posted before this one, just wanted to say _it's coming! _


	4. Pokerface

AN: slightly shorter than the others, but it isn't au. ;) Enjoy.

Title: Pokerface

Pairing: StarkxRukia

Summary: "Shinigamies sure are horny," he murmured, his breath ghosting along the firm outline of her wet nipple before it slid into his mouth, his tongue curling around it. Rukia had to smile. For once _La Primera_ had shown having interest in _something_ rather than sleeping.

Gods she couldn't stand it. His expression never changed. Rukia grasped handfuls of his wavy dark hair, pulling his head down so their lips could meet. "You're really a bastard, you know that?" she whispered angrily against his lips before his tongue languidly slid into her mouth.

"Then what does that make you…?" Stark asked a moment later leaning back slightly, "my bitch?"

Her palm slapping his face rewarded him.

Though she had to admit it seemed to be a wasted gesture as it hurt her more than it did him. He was unfazed. "Just get on with it," she snarled, roughly grabbing his hand and running his lax palm against the sides of her thighs, without the covering of the white gloves, his fingers were long and blunt tipped, their touch cool; _how would they feel inside her_?

He moved closer, beginning his ministrations. Rukia leaned back, feeling him slide between her legs, his hot breath ghosting along her delicate flesh. With a suddenness that wasn't unusual for him, Stark had pulled them both into a sitting position; one arm was draped lazily around her middle while the other lay below that near her crotch.

"I work better this way," he explained as she breathed, "fucker."

_Surely he could feel her heat seeping out from the flimsy panties_—her thoughts halted, the pressure of his thumb against her center and his slow drawl had her fuming, "how's this?"

"More."

Her panties admitted his large hand, the fabric stretching against his tendons, the gothic 1 that marked him as one of Aizen's Arrancars, visible through her see-through underwear. _Bastard's taking his time_…slowly he dipped the tip of his finger into her folds, teasingly.

"What about that? Want more of that?"

She growled low, feeling his finger slide in completely then retract.

"You know what I want…" she hissed, sensing his slight smile and hearing his voice whisper softly into her ear, "how can I if you don't tell me?"

Her retort hot on her lips; left her mouth as a soft moan.

She bucked as he pumped her, her panties becoming soaked with her fluids. She arched her back into his chest, something hard grazing the stretched cloth as her vagina tightened, her muscles flexing.

"Uh…Stark…"

He slowed down, curiosity in his gray eyes, "what is it? Not enough for you?"

Rukia managed to roll her eyes, her tone sarcastic, "I was only going to tell you to let _me_ finish. Jerk off while I do it."

He was surprised to say the least about her caring. "That's—wait—you only want to make sure I'm hard—"

"Just shut up," she crawled off the bed, standing beside the bedside table. She breathed in deeply, thinking of his long, rough strokes, her hand sliding inside. Her first self-induced gasp startled her. She glanced at him, his brief nod of approval making her blush.

"Uh…unh…uh…" she discovered she could handle three fingers at once, ramming them in, her cries of pleasure mingling in with his grunts. Four…her clit throbbed; she sank to her knees, wondering why she hadn't done it herself in the first place.

She felt his gaze on her, her lips parted, her pants growing louder. He had his length in his hands, stroking the tip with his finger. Suddenly an idea came to her. Carefully, she slipped her wet hand from her vagina replacing it with her right_. _Her thumb passing over her lip left a trail of thick cum, her tongue darted out slowly licking it_. His smile alone was worth it_.

Her fingers slipped one by one into her mouth, her slight suck tingling her senses. Her eyes went to him once again, the tang of salty sweetness on her tongue; _he was gone_.

"Star—" she was lifted up, his arms wrapping around her, his stiff penis rubbed her thigh, sliding in to rest between her legs. "I don't know about you…but I'm ready. If I'm not back before they wake up…there'll be hell to pay."

"As if you've ever cared what people thought," she scoffed, staring into his solemn gray eyes. Stark lowered himself, gently kissing her lips, tasting the remnants of her body, " You taste delightful. So you know next time…" he commented, strands of hair falling into his eyes giving him a boyish look.

"What?" Rukia was anxious for him to take her, but teasingly she still rose to his playfulness.

"I'm going to devour you."

She knew he meant something else entirely different.

"If your mouth can handle me then go ahead. I look forward to _it_," she smirked.

"Bitch."

In vengeance, Rukia arched her back, his length slamming into her. Her groan as she clung to him punctuated by his cussing, but even that faded to animal moans as their pace picked up. Soon he had taken control, pounding her mercilessly, her grip on him tightened, her body bouncing with each thrust. She angled her hips slightly letting him ram into her walls, her vision faded, her teeth sinking down onto her lip then as the brief flash of pain receded…

"Harder."

He did as she commanded, her thighs quivering with the violence of her twist, her breathless gasp then arch upward. "You're…crazy…." He felt her grind against him and slip out, "fucking masochistic bitch…" he murmured as he felt the spasm of her body, her senses thrilling with the heightened depth of pain to her rising climax.

"Ngh," Stark grunted, ramming his penis to the hilt, her walls tight around his large organ. His seed spilled out, his penis becoming limp as he slid from her. Her fingers crept along the inside of her wet thigh, her eyes hostile.

"Now what?" he sounded bored.

"You never let _me_ finish!" she began stroking herself, her moans accompanied by harsh Byakuya-worthy glares at the Espada crouching back, watching her, a glint of humor in his eyes. A wet moan escaped her lips and her cum poured out, satiated; Rukia sat up, her hands sticky with her exertions.

She looked at him for a long moment then started fondling her breasts, dipping her fingers into her gooey center, flicking the excess across her rigid nipples. Stark watched her, still with that same damn poker face of boredom. Well she'd fix that!

"Here," Rukia sniffed haughtily, leaning back onto the pillows, "taste me," her hand slid invitingly between her legs, her heat moist and fresh still seeping steadily out; _she wasn't satisfied yet_. Her finger grazed her dripping nipples and then rising to her lips, her tongue lapping sensuously along the tip. Stark took in the sight of her sprawled there, waiting; impatience darkening her countenance and his mask slipped.

"Shinigamies sure are horny," he murmured, his breath ghosting along the firm outline of her wet nipple before it slid into his mouth, his tongue curling around it.

Rukia had to smile.

For once _La Primera_ had shown having interest in _something_ rather than sleeping.

~~~Fin~~~

AN: smutty again. Reviews are appreciated.


	5. Where is your heart?

AN: very dark and slightly disturbing. .-) You've been warned. For Matt and Rose of Ice. Enjoy.

Title: Where is your heart…?

Requested pairing: GrimmjowxRukia

Rating: T

Summary: _Where is your heart? _He would say, "I don't have one that's why I have _yours_."

I wanted to ask-but I know he wouldn't understand. He only understands the instincts of a hunted animal. A being of pure instinct; he is…nothing more than that.

So he wouldn't understand.

"Where is your heart, Grimmjow?"

~*~

"I don't give a fuck about you, Shinigami."

_Then why do you keep coming back?_

"Until I can find a better bitch than you."

_One who'll tolerate being bruised black and blue?_

"Aww don't pretend you don't like it."

I looked away from eyes of electric blue; _it hurts…me_. It hurt me more to admit this weakness. To crave the weight of his hand falling heavily and stinging my flesh, the imprint of rough fingers gouging my ribs. Reddened streaks trailing down my back. My clothes hid the worst of them, the Kido healing the rest.

But he was quiet; I could tell he didn't believe me.

The hand that was at his side, the hand that could caress with the gentlest of touches or strike with the deadliest of rages, lifted. Lying on my cheek. His thumb slid over the patch of darkened skin, my involuntary flinch drawing the tiniest of puckers to his forehead.

"Does…it hurt?"

Now I was the one who was quiet.

His hand traced the edge of my jaw past my throat and the race of my beating heart. The shoulder of my black kimono slid off in his fingers, the line of black and blue marring and fading into dull violet all passing beneath his gaze.

He pulled me close.

His words whispered against my bleeding lips, "You look awfully beautiful…_Rukia_."

~*~

_Where is your heart?_

He would say, "I don't have one that's why I have _yours_."

~Fin~

AN: what is this? A drabble? Thanks for reading and reviews are appreciated.


	6. The final embrace

AN: for Rikary. Tragedy with a capital T!

Title: The final embrace

Requested pairing: IchigoxRukia

Rating: T

Summary: It could not last. Because everyone knows the sun can't touch the moon.

If she had stopped the rain, soothed everything like the moon shedding gentle light over the dreamer's sleep, then what was he to her? The sun at its highest most radiant peak, burning through the inner-darkness of her soul, her guilt washed away as his was in each other's presence?

It could not last. Because everyone knows the sun can't touch the moon.

~*~

It was hard standing in the shadows on that rainy afternoon. _Oh how he used to hate the rain_, she recalled with a faint sigh. The funeral didn't last long, a few friends from school trailing behind his grieving family. Orihime in Ishida's arms sobbed, because for once her _powers_ hadn't been _enough_ to save him.

_How do you think I feel_? She who watched from the tree above the gravesite, thought bitterly, his ashes interred beside his mother's, the way he would've wanted. _I wasn't even there_. A simple hit and run accident on his way home from school. He'd died in the street surrounded by strangers not by friends.

It would have been easier to pretend it didn't hurt. Then maybe it wouldn't have been so difficult to hop from the tree, sword in hand for the ghost of an orange-haired boy looking down at the new grave. "Is that my grave? Am I dead?"

His voice was brittle; empty. Drained of remembrances as the dead were, she knew her face was that of a stranger to him. "Yes," she hesitated, "you are."

"Oh." He glanced at her, "boy you're short."

She twitched, her fist tightening ready to fly; then she remembered, her anger draining away leaving sorrow in its place. "It doesn't matter," she muttered, feeling him turn and look at her every few seconds until she couldn't stand it. "What?!" she snapped furiously, rounding on him before he had a chance to speak.

"Nothing. It's just…"

"Just what?" they were alone now. The last of the mourners had left the Cemetery gates. Only the melancholy sound of the rain pattering stone and falling through his translucent body disturbed the quiet. "Your face…" he struggled, trying to find the right words to describe what he was feeling, "…your face. It's almost as if I feel like…I should know you. Crazy huh?"

"Yeah…" the lump that she had suppressed in her throat rose up, liquid rolled down her cheeks, "stupid rain—"

His fingers brushed away a stubborn droplet, "why are you crying? Did somebody hurt you?"

"I'm not—" she realized it was a lie, "…crying."

"If somebody hurt you, just point 'em out and I'll take care of them for you." His tone was self-assured, the same as before. Rukia peered through her blurry vision, her heart aching even though she had promised herself never to cry in front of him again.

"You're such a fool…"

"Huh?"

"You're such a stupid-stupid IDIOT!!!" she hurled herself at him, pummeling him with her fists even as he confusedly let her. _You're the one who hurt me_. It was getting hard to breathe. Her hands clutched desperately at the front of his white shirt, trying to hold him, to feel something beyond the pain.

"You…"

She looked up at him, tilting her face back to see him shake his head, smiling faintly.

"You're crazy."

Tears streamed down her cheeks, "I know," she breathed.

He lightly embraced her; his hand patted the back of her head like a child's. She closed her eyes against the faint scent of his shirt. The rain fell in sheets surrounding them but never touching them. It was almost the way it should have been but never was. In time she knew it was fine to let go, her hand sliding over the hilt of her sword. He stepped back, watching her, close to remembering but not quite knowing everything.

"Will it hurt?" he asked cautiously.

"No." she answered swiftly, "I'll be waiting on the other side."

"Heh. I didn't ask if you would be, midget." He smirked faintly, seeing the flash of irritation dart over her face, "but I'm glad you will be."

Rukia pressed the bottom end of her sword against his forehead, the Konso mark gleaming on his skin.

"I didn't get your name. What is it?"

She smiled through her tears, "Rukia Kuchiki." _It was just like before_.

"I thought so." He disappeared in a brief burst of light, a butterfly emerging with more orange than black spiraling higher up into the gray sky. She left the empty Cemetery then, eager to keep her promise.

~*~

Everybody knows the sun can't touch the moon just as the living can't be with the dead.

But even in the end there is another beginning beyond the darkness.

Where the sun and moon can be together at last.

~Finis~

**AN: nearly made myself cry twice. ;) How was that? Let me know. Review! Cheers. **


	7. Tell me do you love me?

AN: for Rose of Ice and xXxMiserable Love FairyxXx Fluffiness. Enjoy.

Title: Tell me…do you love me?

Requested pairing: HitsugayaxRukia

Rating: T

Summary: He stared into my face for moment, then chuckled lowly under his breath, "maybe I don't. But I'm not dumb enough to tell that to a girl who's curling and uncurling her fist ready to let it fly in my gut if I tell her. You're really something, Kuchiki…"

Rukia's p.o.v

_It's quiet here_, I thought to myself, my legs swung over the slanted rooftop's edge, a slight breeze stirred my hair. Sighing, I leaned back into the knees of another.

"AAAGGHHHH—"

"Shush, fool. It's only me."

The moonlight wasn't much, but slowly I discerned the smallish figure—chuckles at that—robed in black, the white haori draped loosely over it. "C-Captain Hitsugaya?" there wasn't many in Seireitei who were allowed to address him without the honorific. Usually I tried to, Ichigo never did.

"How many times do I have to tell you? _Toshiro_ is fine. "

I could tell he was irritated, he seemed to be that way all the time. But I sort of _knew_ better. "Well. Then. Toshiro, how are we on this fine evening?" He grunted, plopping down beside me on the roofline. "You can tell, can't you?" he asked with his eyes closed. I blew through my lips lightly, "Two words. Matsumoto."

"Uh huh. Wait…you said _two_ words and you only spoke one. What gives?"

"Actually three," I held up three fingers in his face. Hitsugaya snorted, pushing my hand away, "three? Yeah right. So what're you…a girl of few words?" he was teasing I was sure of it. I curled my fingers back, threading them through his. "Yeah I am. What? You don't like 'em quiet?"

He stared into my face for moment, then chuckled lowly under his breath, "maybe I don't. But I'm not dumb enough to tell that to a girl who's curling and uncurling her fist ready to let it fly in my gut if I tell her. You're really something, Kuchiki…"

It was my turn to snort and shake my head, "well you're really something, _Hitsugaya_."

He pretended to shiver at the barely concealed threat in my fist resting against his side. "Explain."

"No."

"I order you as your present Commanding officer to explain just what you mean."

"Oh ho, pulling rank are we? I thought we'd gone past that weeks ago." I pouted, retracting my fist into my lap. I heard him shift just the littlest bit, out of curiosity I glanced, a smirk on his lips and a gleam I'd never seen before in his eye.

"With you…I'll try anything."

I felt my cheeks heat up the tiniest bit, "now I've no idea what you're talking about."

The distance between us suddenly was much smaller. "Oh really? You don't?"

I closed my eyes, averting my face from him, "you're really hopeless you know that?"

A finger slid under my chin, leading my head back around. I opened my eyes and stared at him, all shrimpy five-something of him and then getting caught by those gorgeous turquoise orbs. I could almost hear Matsumoto cheering from a window two buildings down. Assuming of course that she and the rest of them had night vision binoculars…_with them anything's possible_.

"If you think I'm hopeless then why do you put up with me?"

His warm breath heated up my suddenly freezing lips in an atmosphere that had been previously pleasant. I began to suspect his Zanpaku-to had something to do with it. "Because I…"

"Say it," his voice was gentle, yet firm.

"Because I—I LOVE YOU! Now would you get outta my personal—" he had caught my flying fist, slowly bringing my clenched hand to rest against his warm body beneath the haori. "You're freezing," he explained quickly to my complaint of outrage as I was enfolded into his arms.

"Y-Y-You p-p-plannned thisss!" I hissed, knowing the temperature to be dropping the longer I was held in the circle of the ice wielder's embrace. I heard his low chuckle, muttering to myself darkly, "bastard." He straightened, imitating a scowl, "is that any way to talk to your Superior?"

"Nope," I said unrepentant.

"Even one you love?" his tone changed into being that of much aggrieved.

I let a frown slide onto my lips, "that depends on whether or not…_he_ loves me back."

"Oh is that all?" He rolled his eyes, annoyed, "well then all I have to say to that is…I love you."

Only one thing was missing.

"Say my name."

"Rukia."

"Better. Toshiro."

He smiled before he kissed me.

~*~

"Of course you know…" I glanced up at his face, while I leaned against his chest, sitting in his lap.

"Hmm?"

"I love you to the moon and back. Top that!"

Hitsugaya kissed the top of my head, thinking quietly before he answered, "Well I love you to all the constellations in the universe and back."

"Rats…" I snapped my fingers, realizing he'd beaten me.

"Don't worry. Maybe someday you can top me," his lips trailed along my cheek. I turned my head, whispering before the moon clouded over and hid us completely from sight, "somehow I doubt that, Captain Hitsugaya."

"For the last time…it's TOSHIRO!"

What can I say?

…I forget.

~~FIN~~

AN: Thanks for reading and reviews are appreciated.


	8. Just the same pt1

AN: I think this is the first of its kind here…whoot! Kudos to me just like the KenseixRukia one. ;) Enjoy the crack. Set a little while after the winter war.

Title: Just the same pt.1

Pairing: ShinjixRukia

Rating: T?

Summary: Time and differences in race had never let them get to know each other but now…it was as he said, "we're just the same."

Rukia didn't like it. _It_ came out in the worst moments, making _its_ ugly unwanted presence known in the company of let's say-her brother-her Captain-and just hours before, a roomful of her fellow Squad members. No…she _had_ to do something about it.

Getting rid of it was ideal.

Getting used to it seemed almost impossible, _how that other person had done it, was unfathomable_.

But something, anything had to be done about _it_, _the Hollow inside her_.

Yes, a Hollow. A Hollowfied Soul reaper, it was almost unbearable the second _it_ made _its_ presence known, there in the secret darkest corner of her mind where her fears resided. It fed off her fear, growing, gorging itself on smoothed over regrets, things she'd thought she had finally rid herself of, now came to light along with _it_.

_It_ had her face. _It_ made the same expressions, talked the same, acted the same all in all it was nearly an exact copy of Rukia Kuchiki, living on inside her mind. Except. _It_ whispered things, awful things; things Rukia knew she would never do if in only the deepest pit of her imagination where_ it _had been born.

She wanted to rip off Inoue's face for just being _there_.

She wanted to force him to see her for more than _just a friend_.

She wanted—oh so much more!

And only she knew what she wanted…but would not take. _It_ whispered to her constantly, day and night, never ceasing the soft call of fulfilling the siren's forbidden desires. So she had to do something about it…even if it meant searching out _those people_.

~*~

It didn't take long and they weren't so hard to find. Anybody with good sense would know to look in a so-called abandoned warehouse building, the protective force field around it alone told her this was the right place. It melted apart at her approach, her easy access leaving her wondering whether or not they had been expecting her or…

"Soul reaper…" a voice called out from above high in the darkness. Rukia started, then stood her ground fiercely, "who am I addressing, Vizard?"

"What're you doing here?" another voice, the raucous tones of a young girl, familiar even as the silhouette of pig-tails came into sight.

"State your names and then I'll tell you my reasons," boldly she stayed where she was, feeling several pairs of eyes narrowed in suspicion pass over her. "I like spunk," the first said after a moment, he stepped forward into a shaft of light, his hands on his hips and his mouth stretched into a broad grin.

"Let me guess…there could be only one reason you sought us out."

Rukia stared up at the blond man while he spoke, trying not to feel the prodding of _it_ inside her mind, eager to burst out. "One, you're part of a larger force determined to weed us out finally. Two…" his large teeth settled into a knowing wink and grin, "you're here to join us because now _we're just the same_."

She didn't like hearing _Just the same_.

_Dammit!_

_She was still a member of Soul society even if_…Rukia bit her lip, staring up the tall column, glaring with all her might so she could relish the bitter words effect on the leader of the Vizards' face. "No actually. You're wrong. It's neither."

His face fell, "then what?"

Rukia chuckled, "I'm not here to join you. I'm just here so that you can teach me to control _it_—"

"Freeloader—oh shit—she's—Shinji!"

"I know, Hiyori. I can see _it_." The ex Captain of the fifth Division stared down with some pity reflected in his somber expression as the girl below collapsed into a heap, only seconds later struggling up, a mask of white bone forming along the sharp angle of her cheekbones. _How long had she been suppressing it? She would've had to be pretty strong or very willful in order not to have previously lost total control_…

~~~To be continued and concluded in pt.2~~~

AN: After a while I just decided to repost it—for Rikary…thanks for reading and reviews are appreciated. :)

Note: I'll probably try to finish up the AizenxRukia one next—just so you know. Cheers.


	9. Illusion's Embrace

AN: for The Melancholy knight, Rose of Ice and Lame vs. Cool. I think there were others. But eh, enjoy.

Title: Illusion's embrace

Pairing: AizenxRukia

Rating: T

Summary: Under the false light of Hueco Mundo's moon, she would stay under the embrace of illusion

Sound rushed past her ears, the throne room before her blurred into a whirling mass of distorted shapes and voices yelling in unison.

"What the hell are you doing—!"

_Renji._

She tried shutting her eyes to keep from seeing the images floating in and out of her mind.

"RUKIA!" Ichigo's voice at once familiar began to fade away like a forgotten reminiscence.

Aizen laughed. Color like that of pale blue energy flowed in a swath from the power of his Shikai. The Kyokasuigetsu gleamed malevolently, his hand curled in the shorter hairs on the back of her neck, loosened. She breathed in and would have collapsed but for his softened hold on her shoulder, steadying her.

Violet eyes full of confusion turned up to his face, only seeing the illusion he wanted her to see.

"S-Sosuke?" his name came from her lips spoken in a mixture of relief and _longing_.

Aizen's smile was like sunshine on the girl's soul; the others could only stare helpless in their horror for what she did.

"Oh thank gods…I was afraid I'd lost you forever."

"No, Rukia, I would never leave you."

Her arms encircled his waist.

"Rukia…" he got her attention, "do you know these people? They want to take me far away from you." Her face peeked out shyly from his white coat, her gaze blank. "Uh uh."

"In that case…will you get rid of them for me? Starting with that orange-haired boy over there."

Ichigo watched her detach from Aizen, denial for what was happening stilling his movements.

_She wouldn't._

Her expression screwed up into the scowl of determination he knew so well.

"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki!"

~*~

Under the spell of perfect hypnosis she would fight them.

Under the weakness of friendship her friends would be unable to harm her.

Under the false light of Hueco Mundo's moon, she would stay under the embrace of illusion.

~Fin~

AN: maybe not my best, but eh it's sort of different. :) Aizen had snatched Rukia and in the few seconds of Kyokasuigetsu's release, had her completely under his control—believing they were lovers. Reviews are appreciated.


	10. Rhapsody under the Moonlight

AN: For Alaea Mori. Enjoy the crack.

Title: Rhapsody under the Moonlight

Requested pairing: RosexRukia

Rating: T

Summary: "Rojuro. But they usually just call me _Rose_," he answered after a moment. "Rukia then," she indicated herself. There was a faint flash of white and she realized that he had smiled. "Well Rukia, since you're here what would you like me to play?"

The night was yet still young, at a time when the frost was starting to increase and rivulets of frigid water ran down the gutters and streets of Karakura. Night was the time that Rukia liked best. Staring up at the moon hanging over the town from her vantage point atop the Kurosaki clinic's roof; calmed her mind in stressful times.

So it was particularly strange at that late hour as such when the moon was high denoting the midnight hour when strains of soft strumming reached her ears. _A guitar? At this hour_, mystified she glanced at the adjoining buildings surrounding the area. Not a light shone in one. Still more curious, it seemed to echo to her from afar sometimes and then right beside her. The melody caught in the gentle wind and playfully tossed about.

She frowned. _Who could it be? Another sleepless transient like herself wandering the streets playing just so_? The answer eluded her and quickly she became agitated. Hopping down to the street clothed in nothing by Yuzu's yellow pajamas, she set off across the darkened sidewalk.

Twice she stopped, hearing it come from above a metal overhang on a storefront. A brief search of the rooftop gleaning nothing enlightening, she continued on her way. Pausing on the second block, her ears caught the change in tune echoing from between an alleyway between two squat buildings. Unheeding of the faint winter chill that still traveled beneath her long sleeves and pockmarked her flesh with goose pimples, she leapt up, grasping at the edge of the fire escape.

A man sat sideways, his long legs crossed in light blue slacks, his left hand absently passing over taut strings cabled to an acoustic guitar. A tendril of long golden blond hair trailed over his cheek and he stopped playing, lifting his hand to brush it away.

"Don't stop—oh!" she had spoken aloud.

He turned, cocking his head askance in her direction. "You heard me." It wasn't merely a question since his tone was near dulcet. Surprising for a man. _He must be gay_, she thought immediately then checked her thoughts hastily; _such things didn't concern her_. So she said instead, "it was quite nice—your playing I mean."

The man regarded her for a moment then glanced back at the guitar resting against his ruffled shirt, "I suppose so." He sounded doubtful; Rukia was definitely surprised. "Why do you come up here? It's so—" she faltered, her eyes roving over the deserted rooftop. _He was gone. But so fast_? _How?_

~*~

Rose sped along the empty sidewalks of the dark town. _Someone had seen him. Shinji wouldn't be pleased. He'd have to secure another place for his nightly sojourns. _

~*~

Disappointed, Rukia stared out over the town, waiting though partly she refused to admit it, for the playing of the guitar. _Had she scared him off with her sudden appearance? Had he gone there to be alone and then she ruined it_? _Nonsense_.

Her scowl was fierce and her gait determined; she set off again into the streets. The hour was late and she came near to admitting folly when nearing the outermost stretch of the Park, she heard it. Softened strumming as though the player was unwilling to attract notice.

With her steps light and her form lowered and hidden among the denser of bushes, she came upon him again. A patch of weakened moonlight illuminated his squatting figure. She observed curiously that he still wore the same pants and shirt with effeminate flattened ruffles along the front, his face was turned up to the sky and clearly he spoke to her, "you can come out now."

A little chagrined with partial embarrassment, Rukia crept out, edging in a wide circle around him, keeping his nearly stationary figure in sight. "How did you know I was there?" she asked, lowering herself to the cold ground. The look he gave was almost that of sarcasm.

"I sensed you the moment you set foot in this town."

Though the statement was flat spoken with a lack of real inflection, Rukia felt a chill unaccountable toward the cold season. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what you think—or near to it," he caught her frightened look and added hastily, "we've been here longer than you have-let's just leave it at that. Shinji doesn't like a lot of outsiders knowing about us. Particularly Soul reapers."

She bristled at the reference. So he knew she was in a Gigai. _Could he be…?_ She decided to bait him, "Soul reapers? I've never heard the term before. Is it something concerning death?"

"Don't play dumb. I know what you are along with your friends. You've come here seeking to thwart Aizen and his Arrancars fighting skirmish after skirmish and losing as much as gaining ground. Me? I don't really care one way or another." He shrugged.

"That's a pretty nonchalant attitude from someone residing here," she said dryly.

He laughed shortly and it was a musical laugh. "I suppose so," he admitted, shaking his long tresses from his face. Though her cheeks felt warm her body felt cold. "What's your name?" she asked, hoping he was at least at liberty enough to supply her with that.

"Rojuro. But they usually just call me _Rose_," he answered after a moment.

"Rukia then," she indicated herself. There was a faint flash of white and she realized that he had smiled.

"Well Rukia, since you're here what would you like me to play?"

"Oh anything's fine. I don't have any particular preference."

He thought quietly and then began to strum the chords of a song unfamiliar to her but pleasant to the ear nonetheless. At the end of it, curious she asked him the title of it to which he replied with an impish wink, "Teardrops on my Guitar."

~*~

Rose had parted from the Soul reaper, leaving once the moon began to wane in the sky. The others would be wondering where he had gone to, leaving their place of refuge. It was something he couldn't share with them, not just yet.

~*~

Rukia returned the next night, peering around the dimly illuminated place with careful eyes, masking her disappointment well when she didn't glimpse him. She had just turned back, near to leaving with a heavy sigh on her lips when from above she heard rustling in the tree.

He dropped down beside her.

She uttered an exclamation, startled but quickly recovering her composure once he had taken his former seat from the night before.

"What'll it be this time?" Rose asked, looking up expectantly, his hand resting above the strings.

Rukia settled against the tree trunk resting her back against it. "Anything."

She heard his _Hmph_ of disappointment.

At once her thoughts faded with the full throaty sounds emitted by his playing. It sounded almost like Rock but contained a softer edge when the tempo had dropped off. Once again when he had finished, she asked, her eyes squinting in the direction she knew him to be in, what the song had been called.

He smiled ruefully, "Shell."

~*~

Rose hadn't the faintest idea why he had gone back to that spot, suspecting already the Soul reaper would be there. _Maybe it was out of loneliness-?_

~*~

His playing changed to suit his moods, she noticed after the seventh night. The chords reverberated and resounded in the still air discordantly. Almost as if synthesizing to the wielder of the instrument's inner sensibilities and _confusion_.

She felt the need to ask-_but didn't feel as though she had the right_-if anything was wrong.

Only a friend would do that. But it was difficult just then to ascertain whether or not it was friendship existing between them during those nightly sojourns.

~*~

Rose knew he had to cut it off. He was only confusing himself and her during those times when his fingers became stilled and he stared moodily out into the expanse of trees wondering just then why fate had dealt the measure it had to them.

He the ex Captain of the third Division-

And she didn't even know it.

Outwardly he was human enough but—

~*~

"I'm going away," she announced one night suddenly. He blinked and paused his careful strumming, "where? Back to—"

"Soul society." She had gotten up and had moved closer to see him better in what light remained. "The war is starting and I must leave to train for it. I'll be gone a month at most…" she hesitated, "I just wanted to let you know so…"

_Dammit! It felt so awkward and it shouldn't!_

She had only known him for half a month. Two weeks. It seemed longer and she was nearly willing to bet-_if she gave into the more emotional side of her_-that he was feeling the same way.

Rose finally lifted his gaze and rested it once on her face shadowed heavily by the waning moon, "but you—you'll come back, right?"

"Yeah," Rukia answered faintly, not really knowing what she was agreeing to. But saying it with a faintness or as near to indifference as her quavering voice allowed, she continued, "When it's over, I suppose."

"Yes," he agreed, looking away again, "when it's over." Absently plucking at the strings he played a faded rendition of a near parting song; unable to stay longer and with the melody of sorrow in her ears, she turned back and left.

~*~

Rose sensed her spirit pressure fade and stopped playing. His hand became listless and his other relaxed letting the Guitar slide to his knee.

"Half Pain," he said aloud, naming the last song.

~*~

She was confused and she knew it. Not knowing anything save for his first name and nickname. The war came and went, injuries and healings aside, loss and near ruin averted. The cold January moon shone high and proud on her solitary figure walking the sleeping town, seeming to almost welcome her back.

Indeed it felt once more like a long time.

She knew it was ridiculous to traverse the path to the Park expecting him to be there.

She knew-but didn't care. It would settle her mind and besides…

Soft strains of music floated to her and she ran, her black Soul reaper robes allowing her shade to blend in with the surrounding cast shadows so she came up behind him and caught him nearly at unawares.

"Hey," she said by way of greeting.

Rose stopped playing, tilting his head back to catch her playful smile. "Hey."

She went around and plopped down near him.

"So you came back."

"Like I promised."

He sighed, "I knew you would."

"Never mind that. What was it that you were playing just now?" she propped her chin in her hand and looked at him quizzically.

A smile tugged on the corners of his drooping mouth, "_Her eyes_."

"Oh…" Rukia felt her cheeks redden and she turned away, though knowing this gesture to be quite ridiculous when he couldn't even see her properly anyway!

"Any requests?" she felt him watching her, still smilingly.

Her lips lifted a little in return, curving into a teasing smirk, "yeah. One."

"Which is?"

"The birthday song," she said simply.

~Finis~

AN: I believe sometime in January was supposed to be Rukia's Bday, so her promised meet up with Rose happened to fall on that day. :) Thanks for reading and reviews-not flames-are appreciated.


	11. My Immortal

AN: For Icicleriver22. Enjoy and pardon the shortness. :) Au

Title: My Immortal

Requested pairing: HitsugayaxRukia

Rating: T

Summary: On a snowy hill the two lovers awaited the rising of the sun…

It was unthinkable that such a feeling could stir warmth in my cold breast.

The air trembled, cold and white from her lips.

I held her hand, "are you cold?"

She tried to put on a brave face and smiled up at me, "not if I'm with you."

Liar. My body hadn't radiated warmth in over a century of waking slumber. But I allowed myself the tiniest smile, "I understand." It was something that couldn't be expressed in words. If they had been framed by impassioned declarations…maybe for others this would have sufficed.

She and I just _were_.

We were there. Together. Holding hands on the bank of snow upon a fallen log, awaiting the moment when the sun would rise in the east.

Here.

Sheltered by tall spruce pines branches laden with the night's snowfall.

Here.

We were hidden from all with only the mystery of the forest behind to witness our love.

Light cleared the snow-capped mountains, her hand briefly tightening in mine.

It was almost upon us.

Our separation.

The blinding brilliance only lasted a second in the green sclera of my eyes.

It was enough.

"Goodbye, my dearest."

I whispered it, melting away into the forest shadows there to await another moonrise and her coming.

~Finis~

AN: Thanks for reading. I was rather happy with it. :) Reviews are appreciated and requests are still accepted.


	12. Touch

AN: For Kuchiki Rukia—Taichou and Rikary. Enjoy ;)

Title: Touch

Requested Pairing: ByakuyaxRukia

Rating: M

Summary: There are a thousand ways of touching, innocent and otherwise. When innocence is forsaken…can they really be damned?

The word _touch_ seemed too ambiguous a word.

It could mean anything. A pat on the back for congratulations, a slight touch of the hand on the shoulder could offer comfort in a situation of loss…or the intensity of a stare that reminded one of deft hands wandering with only one thought in mind.

"Rukia?"

She mentally shook herself. Her brother was seated behind his desk in his private office within the Kuchiki mansion. The space was intensely masculine lacking any touch of a feminine hand. She saw he was dressed in a soft gray kimono parted a little at the throat and exposing a line of smooth flesh. _She was staring_.

Rukia cleared her throat, "I was wondering—" she hesitated.

He was watching her.

"If you'd like a mas— " how ridiculous this was. Her head dropped down to her chest, "pardon me for intruding." Swiftly she went to the door pausing only at his quiet words.

"Stay."

She turned and faced him, her heart hammering in her throat expecting a reprimand and nothing more.

"Finish speaking." Byakuya calmly ordered.

Her gaze dropped to the rich burgundy rug, her face reddening, "I just thought Nii-sama might be tired and would like—a—a—back massage?" There. She had said it. Now for the coldness in his tone as he demanded she leave for suggesting such a thing. Instead…

"Yes. That would be nice." His eyes closed briefly and she was dumbfounded.

_Had he just…said yes_?

His chair creaked as he pushed it back and stood. "Is everything alright?" he asked, glancing her way. Rukia hastened to assure him it was. Soon they were seated together on the curved dark leather lounger situated before the long row of bookshelves. She sat at an angle to him, his broad back in front of her. Slowly her hands lifted and laid on the expanse of gray cloth feeling the hard ripple of muscle the lower her palms slid.

She began low, pressing her palms upward into his shoulder blades, kneading in a rhythmic motion. Byakuya showed no signs of displeasure so she gradually worked her way up, rubbing her thumbs in circles along the rigid set of his sinewy muscles. Her hands thus occupied allowed her mind to wander. _Was he wondering what her reasons were…for offering? Did he know_? _Or was he merely tolerating it…_

A soft sigh interrupted her thoughts.

It was a sigh of contentment…

"Nii-sama?" Rukia asked tentatively.

Byakuya stiffened slightly and she caught a glimpse of his stony profile, "yes?"

"Is Nii-sama relaxing?"

He didn't answer for so long she assumed he had been offended. She wondered if maybe her presence was a nuisance. "If Nii-sama is displeased, I will—" her hands had come to a stop, resting just below the long tendrils of his parted hair. The Kenseikan was still threaded through the raven strands and she had the longing to unbind it.

"It is fine, Rukia. Continue."

Her hands trembled but at once she began soothing out the knots in his shoulders, hovering closely to his body the way a lover would. Soon her efforts were rewarded by low grunts of keening pleasure. A strange tingling coursed through her body, pooling like an unreleased heat in her crotch.

"Byakuya…" she was unaware she had spoken aloud until he slowly turned, meeting her startled eyes. "Oh! I—" the pressure of his lips stifled her exclamation. Little by little she was lifted onto his lap, her knees sliding on either side of his waist, his tongue sliding into her mouth. Her hands rose and slipped through his hair, unraveling the white ornament from it and running through the silky black strands.

She moaned low in her throat, his mouth trailing down her fine jaw line. Her lightweight Yukata had fallen and he left burning kisses along the exposed flesh. His look as he gazed up at her, possessive and filled with need made her tremble. The hand that had rested against the small of her back moved now, curving along her hip inward. She hissed softly feeling his deft fingers caress her, stroking her tender opening. Her teeth slid along her bottom lip as he slowly began pumping her, his long finger inserted up to the length, his palm cupping her womanhood.

Her arms around his neck tightened. He laid her on the plush rug, kneeling between her open legs. Rukia stared up at the defined planes of his handsome face, his dark eyes glassy gazing at her rising and falling chest and then dropping to the black tuft hiding her secrets. "Rukia," he began softly, leaning in closer; she halfway rose, curving one leg over him. "I don't want to force you…"

She reached up, brushing his lips gently, sealing it.

_Don't worry. You're not. _

Byakuya responded by holding her tighter, his hardness slipping between her thighs.

_She loved him all the more for asking._

~Finis~

AN: It came out shorter than I'd have liked. But eh…I think it's fine. :) Thanks for reading and please-must I stress this more? Do not flame if you don't like the couple! If you don't like then don't read! That said, reviews are still appreciated and requests are still accepted. :)


	13. Strictly business

AN: Hitsugaya and Rukia both may be a bit OOC but eh what the fetch? It's all in good fun. ;P Good shmexy fun that is. ^^ For IcicleRiver22. Enjoy.

Title: Strictly business

Rating: M

Requested Pairing: HitsugayaxRukia

Summary: Hitsugaya slightly aware of his Lieutenant's ulterior motives played along, leaving with her suggestive wink and his dry refusal of: "It's strictly business that takes me over there, Matsumoto. Nothing _else_."

At the end of every month each of the Guard Companies of Seireitei received a day's worth of organizing. Files were sorted and assessments measured, budgets checked and offices were tidied. It so happened that on this particular day Thirteenth's frail Captain, Jushiro Ukitake had fallen ill and while his fourth seats were tending to him, the mountain load of paperwork awaited the small hand of the sole Soul reaper entrusted with helping him, Rukia Kuchiki.

Hitsugaya of tenth, having accomplished his duties beforehand, happened to hear of the little Kuchiki's dilemma through the not-so subtle hints of Rangiku. The sly blond knew of her Captain's secret infatuation with the petite Soul reaper and endeavored to bring them together be it with trickery or not. Hitsugaya slightly aware of his Lieutenant's ulterior motives played along, leaving with her suggestive wink and his dry refusal of: "It's strictly business that takes me over there, Matsumoto. Nothing _else_."

Little did he know what the rest of the day would bring…

~*~

"Oh…Captain Hitsugaya," Rukia opened the door to admit him in, looking surprised, "what are you doing here? If you're looking for Captain Uki—"

"I'm not here to see Ukitake." Hitsugaya keenly swept the room with a practiced eye. He could see she had been hard at work when he had come. A goodly stack of quarterly reports still waited on the pulled out desk chair and in the corner a sack held already discarded litter.

"I heard he was sick and the Thirteenth Company in need of assistance." He explained to her brief curious look. "Well yes…but I don't have much left. Your help is appreciated but if you're neglecting your—"

"Tenth finished this whole business yesterday. Matsumoto's in the office right now compiling in short order our budget figures for the new month."

"Oh I see…" while Rukia was busy digesting this piece of information; Hitsugaya advanced to the nearest pile and lifted the topmost paper from it. Scanned it quickly and then set it aside for later filing. She moved to help him and soon half the towering pile had been reduced with most of it destined for the file cabinet.

~*~

"Hey, Kuchiki."

They had sat down on the floor taking a break before tackling the rest of the paperwork. Rukia met Hitsugaya's eye, waiting for him to finish whatever he was going to say.

"Have you ever been infatuated with someone?"

Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth opened and closed several times in a way he thought was cute. "H-have _I_ ever been in-infatuated with somebody?"

"Yeah." Hitsugaya looked thoughtfully down at his hands and continued on, without giving her a chance to answer, "you know…like want to be near them all the time and do all those things that only couples do. It's like…" he shot her a covert glance, her head was bowed and her hair had fallen forward along the sides of her face. Hitsugaya reached out and stroked her cheek, making her jolt up in surprise.

"It's like wanting them. Longing to possess them," his voice dropped an octave lower and grew huskier, he leaned in closer and finished whispering in her ear, "I've always wanted _you_, Kuchiki." His breath trailed seductively against her sensitive lobe, tickling her jaw line. She turned a little and said softly against his lips, "hah. What a surprise…I've thought the same about _you_."

Her arm rose and curved around his neck, smashing their mouths together. Hitsugaya responded as fervently, wrapping her into a crushing embrace. Deeper he pressed, plumbing the depths of her warm orifice with his tongue, feeling her back arch in ecstasy. His hand tangled in the longer locks of hair at the back of her neck, yanking her away so he could graze her throat and fast racing pulse with lavish kisses.

"Hitsugaya…" she moaned as the hardening bulge in the front of his uniform rubbed her thigh. She curled her leg around his waist, making a grinding motion with her hips that drove him wild. Roughly he forced her against the wall, his robes falling with the demanding push of her hands. Admiringly Rukia gazed at the smooth hard panes of his abs and ran her hand down the center, playing with the unknotted sash. Suddenly she slipped down farther, dropping from his embrace to her knees, gazing up at him with a sensuous smoldering look.

Her tongue flicked slickly over her lips and Hitsugaya felt himself leak in response. She kissed the tip and licked away the milky fluid seeping out; her mouth parted cupping the rigid organ, testing her gag reflex. Hitsugaya gasped suddenly as she took him in, sucking slowly down his length with a small smack of relish as his gasp quickly changed to wet moans of pleasure.

An oppressive heat spread upward filling his body with languid burning. His thoughts became jumbled losing coherency. He came hard and fast; she swallowed mouthful after mouthful of his cum, running her tongue along the stretched skin, he began to harden again almost immediately. Rukia saw and smirked, a look he had always found incredibly sexy.

"My turn," she announced smugly, moving past him to the edge of the desk where she half-sat, her legs spread apart invitingly. Hitsugaya followed, pulling her hips to him roughly, "no respect," he muttered, alluding to Ukitake's desk being used in such a way. Rukia smothered his teasing frown in a hard kiss, thrusting herself onto the point of his erection. Her legs wrapped around his waist and they began rocking together. "We can go slower-?" he offered, seeing her grimace of pain. She ground her hips, arching her back, forcing him to slide in to the hilt.

"N-No…" a little breathless her eyes were becoming glazed, the stinging pain of being penetrated being overcome with a new more delicious sensation, her first gasps left her parted lips in a mixture of remnants of ache and lust. "M-More…Ugn un uh Hitsu…" she couldn't say his name, hell she couldn't even remember her own name at that moment.

Hitsugaya felt a stroke of masculine pride as he realized that she was being fucked so hard that his name couldn't even form on her lips. He began to pant heavily never slowing his thrusts; her legs rutted around his hips tightened with spasms of pure sexual thrill, her moans were deep and unceasing fell on his ears sweetly. He knew instinctively when she was going to come. Plunging deeply inside her and holding on as she exploded in dripping heat around him. His throbbing penis spewed forth seconds later, the hard ache evaporating into satisfaction.

"Kuchiki…" he said softly; her head tilted up to him.

"Not Kuchiki. _Rukia_," she insisted teasingly, her voice breathy and low; Hitsugaya smiled a little, brushing his lips over hers. "Yeah well…drop _Captain_ and call me Toshiro, Rukia."

"Is that an order?"

He felt like he was drowning, staring into the depths of her eyes. Vaguely his lips moved against hers, "yeah…it _is_."

Suddenly the Thirteenth Division seemed a much better place to visit.

~Finis~

AN: nosebleed. ;) I just had to write a HitsuRuki Lemony thingie. ;) Thanks for reading and reviews are always appreciated. ^^


	14. Dearest

AN: For Alaea Mori

Title: Dearest

Requested Pairing: SzayelxRukia

Rating: T

Summary: You were someone else's prisoner; I am only the Octava. The eighth among the ten. I carry very little weight with our Lord…I knew after a while…I didn't want to let you go."

"Uh huh…vitals seem stable. Heart beat regular…"

The voice was a man's. It came from above her. Shifting her arm she felt the sting of something sharp. Rukia's eyes flew open. Square-framed glasses perched on a small pointed nose and pinkish colored eyes blinked back at her. The man _Hmphed_ and scribbled something on a clipboard.

"Subject seems to have regained full consciousness. No need for further tests at this time." He nodded satisfied and then looked back at her and smiled slightly, "well hello there." The clipboard was lowered in white-gloved hands. "We were afraid you had almost bought it." He said conversationally. Her eyes flickered from his face to the IV in her arm.

"It's just for sedation. We weren't sure of your reaction if and when you awoke. Please do not be alarmed it shall be removed soon." He moved on to the foot of the hospital bed, withdrawing another chart from a pocket built in the footboard. Rukia's gaze followed him; a glance at the heart rate monitor to the left of the IV stand had him frowning.

"Ah! That should not be, my dear. You must keep your heartbeat steady and no frights. It weakens the heart, you know? Fascinating thing…" he sighed thoughtfully, "The heart is. I should one day like to study a real one. But ah…not now…I'm sorry! Have I been rambling on?" Another smile replaced his wistful look, "you must be starved. It can't be easy being fed intravenously for over three weeks. Lumina!" he called, "bring our guest some human food!"

Rukia didn't like that. _Our guest_. _And…three weeks?! Had all that time passed between their parting at the five paths_? Her thoughts were interrupted by the Arrancar's approach. He laid his hand on his chest lightly, "I am sure you're wondering who I am, correct?"

She couldn't help but nod slightly.

"Octava Espada, Szayel Aporro-Grantz at your service."

He bowed a little.

"R-Rukia Kuchiki," she said in reply, _though only the Gods knew why she bothered being polite to her enemy_. He nodded, "Ichimaru told me when he brought you in. LUMINA! ANYTIME NOW?!" He caught her look and grinned sheepishly, "Pardon me. These Fraccion of mine are lazy swine." He excused himself and went to the door; "I'll send someone in right away as soon as I find them."

Rukia sighed in relief the moment the Arrancar had walked out.

1: She had been captured on route to rescuing Orihime.

2: Ichimaru the slime-bag had done it.

3: Somehow…she had ended up in the care of a weird pink-haired Arrancar named Szayel. Pink. Who'd a thunk it?

4: Scratch that. She was probably under observation until they could find further use of her.

_What had happened to everybody_?

Rukia had no worries about herself. If the situation called for it she'd go down resisting rather then betray her fellow Reapers. But Ichigo and Renji…Chad and Uryu. _Where were they_? Another thought occurred to her and she immediately leapt up, jerking back down with a soundless cry of pain. _Damn IV was still attached_.

What if Orihime had been rescued and…

"So sorry," the door opened and in bustled the same Arrancar from before. In one hand he had balanced a tray of mildly steaming soup and a plate of crackers. "I had to bring this in myself. Silly me. Lumina was eaten yesterday." Rukia swallowed hard. _That was definitely something she hadn't wanted to hear_.

Szayel placed the tray atop the bedside stand and wheeled it over. "I'll have to replicate her later," he said lightly. "_Replace_?" Against her will, Rukia felt a hint of curiosity. He patted the edge of the tray meaning for her to start eating. "Ah so you were listening. That is good. It means your brain is functioning properly and no. Replicate. Duplicate her." Szayel smiled at her frown, "don't worry you'll catch on fast how things work here in Las Noches."

She still didn't like the sound of that.

~*~

The IV was removed the next day. Without it her mobility was improved and a plain white uniform was left at the foot of the bed for her to dress herself. Rukia did just that, despising the fact that she would be seen clothed as one of them if she escaped. It wasn't _if_ it was _when_. She kept telling herself to keep her spirits up.

Peering cautiously out from the door, she stepped into the narrow corridor. Her sandals echoed loudly announcing her presence as she entered into a larger room arrayed as a scientist's lab. Szayel himself sat on a high stool hovering over a beaker boiling on a wire cage of flame. Without even glancing up, he greeted her cheerfully, "good afternoon, my dear. Welcome to my Laboratory. Please stay where you are while I finish this." As he spoke, the viscous gray fluid had begun bubbling at the edges, withdrawing it from the flame with a pair of steel tongs; he set it aside and set another glass cup containing red fluid on the wire cage.

"Is that…blood?" she couldn't resist asking.

Szayel frowned and shook his head briskly, "oh no! Blood? Definitely no. It's an entirely different compound than _that_. Well!" Suddenly businesslike he drew a clipboard out from under a pair of glass syringes. "How are you feeling, my dear? No headaches, dizziness, nausea?"

"Um no. None of that, but I—"

"Good. That's excellent to hear." He wrote three checks across the top then paused and looked at her quizzically, "I believe I interrupted you. Was there something you wanted to ask?"

_Now was the time. Ask_. She willed her mouth to open, "is—is Orihime Inoue still held captive?"

The scientist didn't hesitate, "of course. That stoic git Ulquiorra is watching over her." He caught sight of her expression and chuckled, "oh don't think he's like _that_. He wouldn't harm her unless ordered to. And right now that girl is extremely valuable to Lord Aizen…so uh are you okay?"

She struck out at the nearest row of glassine beakers. Szayel jumped up the moment they hit the floor. "Now wait just a minute—don't touch that!" He squawked as she palmed the slender neck of a glass cup bearing the contents of an emerald green liquid. Rukia raised it above her head, preparing to hurl it down with all her might. _Was he afraid of it_?

"I'm telling you—don't do that!!!" He sounded desperate.

She watched his face and thought of nothing she could achieve by giving into useless anger. Reluctantly she set the beaker down at the edge of the worktable. Szayel immediately came toward her. She stiffened, expecting a blow to follow. Instead he went past her and gathered up a dustpan and straw broom from somewhere. To her surprise, he began sweeping the floor.

After a moment of standing back, she tapped him to get his attention. Looking away she mumbled, "I'll do that." An apology was going a step too far but to clean up a mess she had caused…

"Oh thank you."

Strangely enough wasn't difficult.

~*~

"No. No permanent damage was sustained. Eh? What's that?"

She heard Szayel conversing in quiet tones with someone who had come to the door. She crept closer along the wall, peering around the edge at the arched doorframe that she realized must lead to the rest of the Palace. The pink-haired Arrancar had his back to her, his lanky form filling the opening. "No…sorry. I must keep her here longer. There's uh—some more tests I need to run. You understand, don't you, Ichimaru?" Szayel gestured pleadingly.

_Gin!?_

Rukia ducked out of sight. The traitorous ex Captain was one person she had no desire to associate with. _But still_…she thought, hurrying back to the main lab, _didn't Szayel say that it was Gin who had brought her here_? _And what __tests_?

She recalled his wistful look when talking about her heart and trembled.

~*~

"Could you hand me that, dear?"

Rukia silently reached for the beaker he pointed to. _She had no idea how she had ended up playing assistant in lieu of the Fraccion Lumina who had yet to make an appearance. She figured he hadn't seen fit to replicate her or something_. "Thanks," Szayel said absently, his fingers brushing over her hers, made her start suddenly.

Thankfully he didn't seem to notice.

The swirling contents of one container was mixed into another. A glass stick was dipped in and he vigorously stirred melding the two together. After a moment he gazed upon the resulting dark hued liquid of a violet blue color and nodded happily. "Lovely isn't it?" he commented with obvious pride. Rukia wasn't sure what to say.

"It's a perfect fusion of royal blue and deep violet." He glanced at her face, adding lightly, "nearly the same as your eyes. But they are much prettier." She felt her cheeks grow warm and chastised herself for being embarrassed. _He was an Arrancar for Gods sakes! Her enemy! Nothing more_!

She couldn't keep an irritable tone from her voice, "does it do anything?"

"_Does it do anything_?" Szayel echoed then looked thoughtful. "Hmm…I don't know. Do _you_ think it does anything?"

She wanted to hit him.

~*~

"Tell me…why am I here?" Rukia approached his clear Plexiglas desk. He adjusted his glasses and peered up at her from the document he had been studying intently. "What?"

"You heard me. Why am I still here? Why haven't I been brought before Aizen yet?" The last she was secretly relieved hadn't transpired yet. _But he didn't need to know that_. "Huh. Good question." Szayel set aside the paper and propped his chin on the desk with one hand, "but first may I assume you don't like having freedom of movement here?"

It was her turn to look confused, "what?"

"Let me put it this way. The sooner you are released from my watch the sooner you will be placed in a cell like the Inoue girl. Except in your case I am to hand you over to Ichimaru since he is the one requesting to keep you."

_Be given to…Ichimaru? Be under __his__ care…?_

He saw a flash of distaste flicker over her expression.

"But why…?" Rukia managed to find her voice, "haven't you done so?"

"Like I told him." He winked at her, "there's still some tests I need to perform. And besides that," he flipped a sheaf of pink hair from his face, "I need an assistant right now to help me with my work."

~*~

She turned over on the narrow hospital bed, drawing the crisp sheets higher over her head. _She was trapped. There was no way out of it_. _The only halfway decent thing about it was that Szayel wasn't as twisted as some of the others_. _So far he hadn't mentioned her heart not even in passing for that she was grateful and terrified. Afraid of what might be going on beneath that cap of pinkish hair and glasses._

_She had to escape, she just didn't know how_.

~*~

He closed the door softly. Gently snapping it shut. He laid his palm against the cold wood panel, sighing slightly. _Poor girl_. Then because it wasn't in his nature to wallow, he turned and briskly strode back to his lab to take up the work he had set aside.

~*~

_Something was off_. She glanced up from the beaker he was having her stir. He sat on a stool across the room making notes in a clipboard, nodding every so often. For a while they had talked—well he had and she'd listened about the various other Espada. Learning some insightful things in case she ever did run into any of them. But mostly it was quiet. Szayel had lapsed into a silence only punctuated by the soft scratching of his pen on the pad of paper.

Rukia felt him watching her.

She rested the tip of the glass swizzle stick against the mouth of the container, tilting her head at an angle. _He was looking at her_. Rukia dipped the stick back into the fluid, stirring it slowly, hearing the slight squeak as he got up and crossed the floor behind her. She tensed, expecting to be struck. Instead, he tapped her shoulder friendlily, "I'll take over now, dear."

Her brow rose and she stepped away compliantly, "why do you call me that?"

Szayel's concentration on the beaker didn't waver, "hmm?"

"_Dear_. I have a name you know." Surprisingly as she said it she found it hadn't bothered her so much. Silence. _She wondered if he was annoyed_. Only the clinking of glass-on-glass filled the air then finally satisfied he laid aside the swizzle stick. "Much closer," he muttered, hovering over the contents. She was stymied to notice the violet hue of the liquid.

"It's the same!" she cried at the same time realizing he might not take it the right way. Szayel shook his head slightly, "no, no. It's much closer than _before_." He said cryptically, carrying away the container to the metal fridge against the other wall.

A little startled, she looked after him perplexed, "closer to _what_?"

The scientist gleefully chuckled, "just wait and see."

Rukia harrumphed; _all that did was raise her curiosity, not satisfy it_.

~*~

Sometimes he worked alone at night in the lab. Long after she had retired to her room down the hallway, she would catch the faint grumbling and pacing of his steps. Once in a while she could make out his words. _Not black enough. Not right. A pinker shade…more rounded_…

Unable to sleep one night she slipped from the hard bed and crept to the door, easing it open. _The hallway was dark. _Inching out, she followed the faint beam of light to the partially cracked lab doors. The floor was cold against her bare feet, her steps silent as she leaned against the lintel and placed her eye to the opening. A figure in a white lab coat was circling around another, smaller form_. Szayel_. _But who was_…

Rukia gasped and too late clapped her hand over her mouth.

It was an effigy of her.

Short pointed tips of black hair grazing slender shoulders over which a modest sheet had been draped hiding the gently curved bosom. One large eye was open revealing a startling violet cornea the color of the liquid from days before…

"Come in," he said, never looking back as she entered frightened.

"Wha—what is that thing?" her voice was quiet, her eyes staring from him to the creation he had so lovingly formed. "You. An almost perfect—but sadly only an imitation model of you." Szayel answered just as quietly. _He really was insane_. "Why?" she felt she had to ask, "why would you make something this—"

"Ichimaru is coming tomorrow." He interrupted as if he hadn't heard her, "he's done waiting. You are to be taken immediately to his quarters where a cage has been prepared. He told me so himself." Szayel assured her.

A cage?!!

She felt numb.

"I suppose you're wondering why I didn't tell you before?"

She nodded faintly.

He sighed and ran his hand through his pink hair, scowling instead of smiling like she had always seen him. "Hollows are souls that have lost their hearts. Arrancars are evolved from them artificially or sometimes," he amended, "naturally."

Rukia was trying to focus on what he was saying.

"How would it be if I said I'd become fond of you overly than what was good for me? The time we've spent together…I tried to think rationally when I was still able to disassociate my company from yours. You were someone else's prisoner; I am only the Octava. The eighth among the ten. I carry very little weight with our Lord…I knew after a while…I didn't want to let you go."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly; _this wasn't happening_.

"You wonder why I never called you by name? Not once. _Dear_ is the expression humans use to denote fondness or affection, correct?" he waited for her assent. She nodded slowly. Szayel smiled slightly if a little pained and tentatively brushed her cheek. She didn't flinch. He continued, "I wanted a reminder of you…even if it was only a creation of my own design. I suppose you think I'm silly wanting to satisfy my own whims when I can't even protect the real thing?"

She shook her head mutely.

It didn't seem all that strange really. No one had ever called her _dear_ before. Spoken by him it seemed…almost natural. To have never spoken one another's names before…

Looking at him, for some reason she didn't understand why her throat tightened. She lowered her eyes, her chest aching. Szayel frowned again and then lifted her chin up, "I can accept that I'm still your enemy," he said, meeting her eyes, "and I'll never have anything in that heart of yours. But…there is one thing I can do to help you."

It wasn't in her to cry.

The Arrancar was her enemy and nothing could change that.

_He would be punished_.

Rukia knew. But somewhere inside, deep inside her heart, in a small secret corner she knew she would remember him. He deserved at least that much.

She stepped through the dimensional rip he had created, looking back over her shoulder, "goodbye…Szayel." And ran down the darkened street leaving the white lab in the desolate world behind.

~La Fin~

AN: this is auish in the respect that everyone gets creamed by the Privaron Espada and Gin after seeing her on the surveillance monitor went and…let's just say he wasn't too gentle. Stabbed her with Shinso to keep her quiet. He meant to keep her as a pet and—do I have to explain it? ^^; Thanks for reading—flamers and their flames shall be used to ignite our Samhain bonfire in the backyard—other than that, reviews are always appreciated.


	15. I hate myself for losing you

AN: I'm ill! Got post-nasal drip and swollen tonsils—ack! Anyway, for Veldare and Cam 169. Enjoy. :)

Title: I hate myself for losing you

Requested pairing: YumichikaxRukia

Rating: T

Summary: In seven days, Rukia Kuchiki's perception of Yumichika Ayasegawa was changed from one of dislike to acceptance to perhaps something more…I hate myself for losing you.

~The first day~

_If loving yourself was narcissism then what did that make him_? She thought disgustedly, watching the fifth seat preen before a pocket compact for as many times as it had taken them to walk a block on patrol. _The King of it_?

Yumichika snapped the lid of the mirror shut, his sigh of contentment drawing another scowl from her. "You know if you frown too much, Kuchiki-san, your face will freeze that way," he commented, glancing her way. Rukia rolled her eyes heavenward, _as if she needed beauty advice from him_! The next time they were paired off, she swore silently seeing her erstwhile partner oohing and aahing over his reflection in a store window…

~Second day~

Strangely the fates seemed to have something in mind for her, as when the next day rolled around, Yumichika was the only one left still waiting at the rendezvous point. The others had all left without her to their various positions around Karakura. "Not you again!" she wailed upon sighting the bored lavender eyes roll up at her approach and with exaggerated slowness he snapped the compact shut. "Yes. Me. What? Am I so radiant as to make a plain little girl like you—"

"Oh, shut it!" she snapped, stomping around him irritably. Yumichika shrugged and followed.

~*~

Though her annoyance was great with him that day, Rukia couldn't help but notice the outfit he managed to procure from somewhere. It consisted of an artsy type shirt that he had rolled the sleeves up exposing slender forearms and faded jeans that accentuated his narrow waist. She would never say it even though the thought was present in her mind almost every time her gaze wandered over to him; _he looked kind of…nice_.

But no. She would never tell him that for to even speak such a thing would be to encourage an already conceited man to inflate his ego just a tad bit more.

~Third day~

"Don't you think this scarf is just divine, Kuchiki-san?" Yumichika held up the silken item of a red tag sale price. The color was a deep royal violet a shade or two lighter than his eyes. Rukia huffed and looked elsewhere toward the doors, wishing she were anywhere but on a shopping excursion with _him_. For God sakes, the Arrancars could be invading and he wouldn't budge until he had purchased the aforementioned scarf.

She didn't breathe a sigh of relief until they had cleared the shopping district, Yumichika beside her whistling happily, swinging the small plastic sack containing his single buy. For once, Rukia noticed, he didn't check his reflection in the pocket mirror every five seconds. Maybe every three.

~Fourth day~

"…If you'd let your hair grow out some…you wouldn't be a half-bad looking girl."

Her head snapped up at his unexpected comment. "No one's asking for your opinion," she muttered. He shrugged meaning he had meant no harm and for once dropped the subject. When it came time for them to part ways for the day, Rukia had to wonder why her cheeks had felt warm in his presence when the day had been cold.

~Fifth day~

He was wearing the scarf.

"That's a woman's accessory, you know." Rukia dryly commented as he strolled beside her along the boardwalk in one of Karakura's busiest areas. It didn't seem to faze him, her rather scathing words. It was like he was in a world of his own, looking upon everything with a remote detachment, ignoring anything that wasn't beautiful. Rukia felt strangely a little miffed at that. For it seemed she wasn't of any importance to him since he scarcely spoke to her at all unless _like with the scarf_ it was for her opinion. _Narcissistic jerk_.

However…

It didn't escape her notice that like with the clothing he chose, it seemed to enhance whatever looks he possessed. The scarf, contrary to her words, did not in fact make him any more effeminate than more so exotic.

~Sixth day~

The day was particularly cold. Uncomfortably she strolled down one end of the park while Yumichika took the other half, in half an hour they were to meet up at a certain bench overlooking the playground. Rukia blew on her frozen hands, cursing the Gigai's human-like sense of the elements and the body-heat she was expending in the tan skirt over black leggings and flats. The lavender argyle sweater she wore zipped up to her throat didn't provide much warmth either. She had to blame Yumichika's insistence for her buying it the other day.

Growling under her breath, she sneezed. "Excuse you," came a familiar voice from nearby. Looking up Rukia was surprised to find she had traveled the distance to the meeting place almost without realizing it. "Anything?" she asked of his thoughtful look to the sky, he had his hands inside the pockets of his motorcycle jacket. "I think it's going to snow." Yumichika pronounced, observing suspiciously one fluffy white cloud trekking across the overcast sky with narrowed eyes.

"I didn't ask about the weather, idiot." Rukia flopped down on one end of the frigid bench, huddling her arms to her body to retain heat. "I know." Unconcerned he glanced her way then asked, "cold?"

"Yeah. Freezing 'cause of you and this stupid—" the complaint died in her throat. Standing before her, he carefully arranged the violet scarf around her neck, lightly brushing the strands of her hair as he did so. His hands were warm. "Thanks," she muttered after a moment, averting her face from him. Yumichika didn't notice perhaps the proximity in which induced a certain level of embarrassment in the little Kuchiki, only nodding satisfactorily to himself.

"I was right." He said, smiling smugly.

Surprised, Rukia looked up at him, "huh?"

"The color matches your eyes perfectly."

~Seventh day~

The group of Arrancars led by the Sexta, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques attacked the next day. Lying on the ground, her vision fading, Rukia had to wonder: _where he was_. For the past six days they had been paired together during the split up of the survey team. But this day…Yumichika had stayed with his friend Ikkaku rather than go with her.

_It was odd then_, she realized, her blood flowing out freely from the wound in her torso. Thinking about whom she might never lay eyes on again, _her friends, her brother, Seireitei_. Her one regret…_was that she had never once told him she had thought he looked nice_.

_Silly wasn't it_? Rukia closed her eyes for the last time.

~Across Karakura~

Yumichika felt her spirit pressure decrease…and fade away. Though slight the feeling was, he would've liked to have spoken with her one last time since there was one thing he had felt too foolish to say the day before in the Park. _She was almost beautiful at that moment_. "Prepare a Company funeral for Ikkaku Madarame of Eleventh and Rukia Kuchiki of Thirteenth."

~Finis~

AN: So she died. Auish in that respect so don't hate me. :P I figured that there was the slightest feeling between them that time and being together might have allowed something more. But it had been planned that she would leave—not telling him that she liked him or something. Upon thinking of that scenario the title of the story fits better for this ending where death took away might have been. :) Thanks for reading—no flames or idiotic spammers—but reviews are appreciated!

Note: I was supposed to finish (MayurixRukia) instead of this one. Sorry. Once I'm better, I'll probably do that one. :) Requests are still accepted.


	16. The Night holds many secrets

AN: For Alaea Mori. Enjoy.

Title: The Night holds many secrets

Rating: T

Requested Pairing: AshidoxRukia

It was quiet.

_Did he always live in such solitude_? I scowled, I didn't like it. _It wasn't natural_.

The wind gusted past the cave mouth more like a fissure in the rock. It was more a howl than anything else. I started and he chuckled, the first sound of humanity I'd heard from the scarred, lonely man since he had found me after the storm.

"That sounded like a Hollow," I said to distract his attention away from me. We were in close quarters in the Kido-wrapped space. Illusionary heat served as a fire in a place where darkness reigned. He sat back, still observing me with narrowed eyes. "So, what? Did you expect anything different?" His laugh was mirthless, "you're in the world of the Hollows. They're always lurking here and there and everywhere!"

I didn't appreciate his sarcasm. "Thanks for telling me," I snapped. It became quiet again. I could sense him watching me at the edge of my vision. It bothered me. Maybe because I wasn't used to it.

"Quit looking at me." The instant it left my mouth, I grew slightly ashamed. _Who knew how long he had been..._

"Where would you prefer me to look, Kuchiki?"

_Without companionship_.

"Anywhere else but me, Kano." I hadn't liked the slight note of something else that had slipped into his quiet tone. Just the thought of it sent a mild shiver up my spine.

"Cold?"

Something rustled and I raised my head. I wasn't able to hide my revulsion this time at seeing the ragged fur cloak being offered my way. "No, thanks," I said tightly, tilting my eyes away from the horrid thing.

Skull masks clanked against one another and he settled back down, those damnable blue eyes on me. I didn't like the look reflected within them.

"Could you please stop star--"

"Or what?"

I froze. He had moved silently before me, leaning forward with a peculiar light in his eyes. His hands were on either of my hips, not quite touching, yet close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him. "Kano--

"Sh, Kuchiki," he brushed my cheek with a calloused hand. I shivered but in a different way at the gesture."Kano--" I tried again to dissuade him from this course. He stopped me by pressing a finger to my lips effectively sealing them.

"No words."

I nodded.

"No regrets."

I swallowed past the lump rising in my throat. _I blanked the faces of my friends from my mind_. In response to his last sentence, I closed the distance remaining between us and kissed him gently.

~*~

I would remember this night.

And he who experienced it with me.

Always.

~Finis~

AN: really. I don't know. It came out so short and all... :P

Thanks for reading.

No flames, stupid comments (you know what I mean!) Or idiotic spammers!

Reviews are always appreciated (requests still accepted!) :)


	17. Contents and Request List

There is always a Price Contents list.

(1) UraharaxRukia

(2) GinxRukia

(3) GrimmjowxRukiaxUlquiorra

(4) UlquiorraxRukia

(5) StarkxRukia

(6) GrimmjowxRukia

(7) IchigoxRukia

(8) HitsugayaxRukia

(9) ShinjixRukia

(10) AizenxRukia

(11) RosexRukia

(12) HitsugayaxRukia

(13) ByakuyaxRukia

(14) HitsugayaxRukia

(15) SzayelxRukia

(16) YumichikaxRukia

(17) AshidoxRukia

(19) GinxRukia

(20) ChadxRukia

(21) SenbonzakuraxRukia

(22) ZangetsuxRukia

(23) KaienxRukia

(24) HyorinmaruxRukia

(25) UkitakexRukia

(26) RukiaxUlquiorra

(27) UlquiorraxRukiaxIchigo

(28) AaronieroxRukia

(29) Noba/NovaxRukia

(30) Tensa ZangetsuxRukia

(31) Tensa ZangetsuxRukiaxIchigo and his Hollow

(32) IchigoxRukia

(33) GrimmjowxRukia

(34) Tensa ZangetsuxRukia

(35) WonderweissxRukia

(36) IshidaxRukia

(37) OrihimexRukia

(38) TeslaxRukia

(39) RyukenxRukia

(40) NnoitoraxRukia

(41) MayurixRukia

(42) KokutoxRukia

(43) GrimmjowxRukia

(44) AizenxRukia

**~Request List~**

HitsugayaxRukia

YamamotoxRukia

KeigoxRukia

YammyxRukia

YoshinoxRukia

D-RoyxRukia (M-rated request)

IlfortxRukia

KurodoxRukia

ShunsuixRukia

ShunsuixRukiaxUkitake

KonxRukia

TosenxRukia (this could be really good...)

IkkakuxRukia (have the idea, it should be funny)

IshidaxRukia (M-rated)

HisagixRukia

NnoitoraxRukia

IchigoxRukia (AU)

HalibelxRukia

SoiFongxRukia

KukakuxRukia

TatsukixRukia

LisaxRukia

NemuxRukia

GinxRukia

Sode no ShirayukixRukia

HanataroxRukia

MatsumotoxRukia

SentaroxRukia

IzuruxRukia

DordoniixRukia (AU started)

BarraganxRukia

GinxRukiaxGrimmjow

YumichikaxRukia

~Upcoming ones I have planned~

RikichixRukia

Soujun KuchikixRukia

LuppixRukia

ShurenxRukia

YukioxRukia

RirukaxRukia

Shukuro TsukishimaxRukia

GinjoxRukia (Ramen King)

GgioxRukia

MuramasaxRukia (AUish)

IsshinxRukia (poor Ichi-berry...)

RenjixRukia

HichigoxRukiaxIchigo

CiruccixRukia

These may or may not contain smut or anything M-rated in them. Please bear in mind that if you request a pairing and DO NOT want it to have lemons or anything, state it in your request! Yuri is accepted now.


	18. Eyes wide Shut

AN: For Kluxces. No relation to the movie-with the title. Just liked it for this one-shot...enjoy.

Title: Eyes wide Shut

Rating: M

Requested Pairing: GinxRukia

There were six all together. Two heads and the rest associates, gathering to discuss a business merger between their companies. _Over Lunch_.

The long table was set in the middle of the western style room, linen tablecloth freshly laid out. Chairs had yet to be brought, but that would be taken care of later after the arrangements had been finished. She padded into the room, a hip-length robe falling aside as she sat on the edge of the table. Clad only in black low-rise panties, she leaned back slowly, breathing in and out steadily. Soon two others came in, the stoic-faced Nemu who would be serving chilled Sake to the clients and Rangiku, the more experienced in fulfilling the prerequisites demanded by the wealthy customers.

"Spread your legs out," the honey-blond woman kindly instructed, nudging her thighs apart from the closeness she had maintained. The air was cool along her small breasts and she longed to wrap her arms about herself but knew better to do such a thing. "Good. Now, Nemu, the napkins please?"

Nemu silently handed over one, spreading the thin square out in her fine fingers. Rangiku took it, carefully draping it over Rukia's bosom. Her nipples perked up, the scrape of the cloth urging them to firmness. Rangiku chuckled, smoothing some locks of hair from her face, "nervous?"

"A little..." Rukia admitted, sheepishly, biting her lip.

She was nervous about pleasing one of the most influential men in the Country, let alone upholding the reputation of the establishment. _Why couldn't they have chosen Orihime for this...?! She was much better at keeping still and much bustier than herself! Wasn't that what all men liked?!_

But Sosuke Aizen had selected her from the catalogue of available girls, despite her inexperienced status as only having one complete service course to her belt...

_He liked them that way_, he'd said smilingly to Nanao, _and he knew his friend did as well._

So that left her with no choice but to prepare for their scheduled Luncheon.

Rukia was taken out of her thoughts by the sudden coldness pressed to her inner-thighs. "Ran--" she tilted her head up, seeing Nemu placing a cold pitcher of water up against the apex of her crotch. Rangiku was busy checking off details on a clipboard. "Too wide?" was the girl's soft question, ready to lift away the offending decanter.

Rukia shifted, feeling the condensation trickle coolly against her skin, "it's al--"

Rangiku cut her off, "nope, not there! It was Aizen-sama's express wish to have her as bare as possible!"

Nemu immediately removed the pitcher, replacing it back on the cart.

"What...?" Rukia's voice was faint. Rangiku's gray eyes flickered sympathetically up to her face before traveling down her middle, "sorry about this, but I'm afraid they're going to have to go."

It took her a minute to realize just what it was the older woman meant.

"N-no--" her panties were slid off, exposing her mane of black curls. Impersonally, Nemu began applying sweet oil to the insides of her thighs under Rangiku's instructions. Rukia fidgeted, her hips digging into the tablecloth. She wouldn't have admitted it felt good, though her blush was deep when the stoic girl was forced to wipe away a trickle of ooze, the thin string clinging to the girl's fingers.

Rukia shut her eyes, the blindfold placed over them.

Dots of red Hoisin sauce were dripped onto her bare belly in a straight line, then square cakes of salmon and crab Sushi were placed on top. In her belly button was placed a large green olive. Nemu then spread a sheer net over her crotch, folding the top down to make a hem at her waist, from there was placed a thin lacquered bowl of one of the client's favorite dishes balanced on her pelvis.

From there, Nemu worked back up to Rukia's upper chest, dipping and swirling a brush--though she couldn't see it, only felt the feathery texture against the base of her breasts, slide through the valley between them then curve up ticklish around her nipples.

"W-What is it?" her voice was shaky.

"Chocolate," Nemu answered perfunctorily as if no other explanation was needed.

And none was really. For it was also made clear that Ichigo Aizen, Sosuke's son and serving as Vice President as well, had a fondness for the treat. Hence it was requested.

Once Nemu had finished body-painting Rukia, she set out the remaining dishes around her, chopsticks were laid out and cups filled. Only when the door had closed taking with it the slight creak of the cart did Rukia feel truly alone.

Time passed and she practiced staying perfectly still, imagining grabby hands touching her hips, her chest, all the while murmuring excuses that sounded false.

_Orihime said they did it all the time to her_.

She--

The doors opened and the sound of many pairs of footsteps approached. Nemu's voice followed them in, gently directing them to their seats. Rukia didn't need to have sight to know that the stoic girl wore a mini-pseudo kimono tied by a tight obi on her front or to know she wore lace panties that peeked when she bent any little bit.

She also knew one of the men scowled a lot. She could hear it in his voice.

"This is the one you picked, dad?" _Must be the son_--Ichigo.

A quiet voice with an almost silken quality that made her shudder just to hear to its caressing tones answered, "yes. You don't like it, Ichigo?"

_So she had been right_. She held her breath almost afraid to appear by any sort of movement, more displeasing to the obviously young man.

"Nah, she's fine. The setup is a little simple though." She felt his eyes rake her body and prayed she looked agreeable. "She's pretty. Though I'd have liked to have seen the color of her eyes."

Nemu launched into an explanation as to why it was standard protocol for all their girls-in-waiting to be blindfolded. Ichigo merely grunted and settled back as indicated by the chair creaking with the added weight.

"Oh, no, Ulquiorra, you sit right here." Chair legs scraped the floor as it was drawn out and a coolly masculine voice observed with a hint of disdain, "she is somewhat flat."

"Somewhat indeed," cooed another, long, spider-like fingers crawled over her hip, lewdly dipping along the curve and dip of her pelvic region.

"Gin..." Aizen idly warned, "we are not all seated yet."

The pressure of the man's fingertips was lessened_. Rukia silently wished he had been left to continue his inward path_. _Her center felt hot_.

Lunch began.

Every so often Nemu made the rounds, pouring out extra sake to the group, gently rebuffing the hands of one Grimmjow Jeagerjaques who was one of Aizen's men. It took a single moment for the interloper's name to fall from Aizen's lips and no more intrusive groping followed.

On her side however, there was plenty of it.

The one called Ulquiorra, who had previously slighted her, now made a cursory examination of her breasts, his cold, delicate-seeming fingers circling the firm pink nubs, having gained access to her bosom by the removal of the napkins. The chocolate art had dried already. A thrill shot straight to her groin, a pleasurable moan burned her throat.

_She liked having her nipples played with_.

_Rangiku was right_.

_She could come just by the teasing-fondling-pinching-stroking done to her by the men whose faces she had never seen_.

Another picked a piece of Sushi from between the pit of her stomach, indolently asking permission by the one named Gin to have a taste of his end. The silky-voiced man graciously consented. The bowl poised above her groin was dipped into, the slight pressure weighing heavily on her throbbing heat below it.

"Ease off, Stark!" complained Aizen's son. His voice came from near her right hip; "you're going to make her stain the tablecloth!"

Her face grew hot.

Aizen and a few others chuckled at his son's wit.

Slender fingers plucked the olive from her belly button, "is that such a bad thing, Ichigo-kun?"

_Two hours later_...

The room had grown quiet and she assumed they had left.

_Except where was_...

She shifted, raising her hand to slip the blindfold off. Suddenly a firm grip caught her wrist. "No, not yet." This voice...

"Ichimaru-sama?"

The man chuckled lowly, "yes?"

She felt some confusion, "why did you-?"

"Stay behind?" he queried, a note of amusement in his soft tone. "'Cause I couldn't bear to leave such a tiny thing as yourself in the state you were in, that's why!"

She blushed, feeling indeed her groin tight with suppressed arousal. "B-But--"

"Hush," the dishes were set aside, stacked on one of the chairs nearby judging by the clatter of them. "Don't worry, I'll fix it up with whatever-her name is up at the desk. If it's money--"

"No!" she was surprised at her vehemence, then softened her tone, "no, I'm not a prostitute. But..."

"But what?"

Her blush was deeper, "I like you...I've seen your picture featured on the Fortune magazine. I've always...wanted to...meet you. B-But I don't think I'm..."

"Hmm?"

"Worthy of you." her voice was small. It was easier to admit something so humiliating with her eyes shut, her sight covered so she was unable to glimpse the effect her words had on the man.

"Now, why would you think that?" She felt his hands remove the cloth from her crotch, her heat seeped out, moistening her curls. His finger slid languidly along her shape, her thighs quivered she was thankful her back was to the table. "I think you're very beautiful, _Rukia-chan_," Gin said earnestly, his tip dipping inside her.

_How did he_--

"Ugh--ugh..."

"What was that lovely sound just now, dear?" he teased, stroking inward; Rukia growled something in the back of her throat, a fresh wave of new sensations titillating her senses. Moans spilled from her lips, panting, arching, grinding her hips down into the hard surface. _More. That's all she wanted to scream_.

Something lazily lapped across her nipple, hardening it instantly.

His tongue then his hand kneaded her breast, mouth moving slowly at an angle down her flat tummy. Rukia writhed in embarrassment and pleasure as his tongue flicked lewdly into her belly button. He nibbled his way down from there, nipping at her hip bone before curving in to nurse her weeping womanhood.

"Aw, you're so wet, Rukia-chan..." he whispered, his short, quick breaths a relief to her feverish, aching flesh. "It just makes me want to eat you all up!"

His tongue thrust into her hot cavern, laving her tight walls. Rukia spread her legs apart, her juices willingly lapped up into his eager mouth. Deep inside she felt something building, something that ached to be released. Her hands threaded into his short hair, urging him on. The table groaned and she felt his weight settle on the lower half, his mouth now at a better position to take her firmly in.

The nub at her center was licked repeatedly, eliciting harsh cries for fulfillment. Her hands left his hair, trailing up to her breasts, fondling her nipples to hardness. She knew she was coming, but could say nothing to warn him when she climaxed.

He chuckled quietly to himself, lapping a few times around her engorged clit. Rukia shuddered as she felt him move yet again, this time settling between her open legs, his hands tugged her hips up and the brush of something hard through his slacks made her ache in lust at the thought.

"Now, now, Rukia-chan," his fingers tugged the blindfold off at last to reveal him to her sight. His narrow aesthetic features coupled with nearly slitted red eyes and it all capped by a head of silver hair trimmed to a bob left her with some awe at the man. "Ran-chan has told me all about you, so I hope I wasn't too presumptuous into suggesting we take this somewhere more comfortable...like my house?"

_He knew...Rangiku?_

~Finis~

AN: yeah so I had to include those Ulqui, Aizen and Stark moments before Gin really made his move. ;p improbable. Maybe. Is everyone o-o-c obviously! Do I care? Nope. Anyway, a while back on some show I saw this place where the businessmen could pay for semi-naked women to be laid out on tables with food strategically placed on their bodies; don't know where or what they call it though. Hence the idea. ;p And was there also a hint of Yuri there? Yume's experimenting...so go ahead and make any girlxgirl requests as well as the guys. ;p This is a Rukiaxcollection after all....heheheh.

Thanks for reading.

No flames-stupid comments-idiotic spammers!

Reviews are always appreciated!


	19. Height Difference

AN: for Kiero Pepsi! :) enjoy

Title: Height difference

Rating: T

Requested Pairing: ChadxRukia

She has to stretch to reach his cheek.

Skin like polished earth beneath her fingertips.

Even higher to pout her lips for the _beso_.

"You're too tall!" Rukia complains eventually, standing on tip-toe to even come vaguely close to diminishing the height difference between her and the giant.

A rare beaming smile unfolds across his lips and she knows she's being made fun of.

"What's so funny?!" Rukia demands in that usual bossy way of hers.

He shakes his dark head of curly hair from side to side. It's not the situation that he finds amusement in, it's the picture they must make to everyone around.

Her the image of tininess and him the epitome of huge.

"What're you thinking?" He marvels at the way her emotions change from one extreme to another. Affectionate to angry to simply curious. She was a well of feelings, all fighting to be expressed in one soul. _That was the enigma that was Rukia Kuchiki_.

He bends his knees slightly.

Rukia wordlessly clambers on his back, his strong arms securing her.

This isn't the first time he's carried her and they both know it.

"Better?" He asks, meaning in the decrease of the height between them.

His one regret is that he can't see her face, only hear her voice as she leans in low.

"Better." Rukia agrees with a satisfied nod.

Her soul pager rings then and he sets off, an unspoken bet to be there before Ichigo even senses the Hollow in the Park. She's game as well, ready to send that orange-haired sub down to bitter defeat. After all, the loser has to buy lunch for the entire gang on Saturday.

_And he's lucky to have her, that he knows_.

~Finis~

AN: I wasn't in the mood for anything long.

Beso: kiss.

Thanks for reading :)

No flames-idiotic spammers-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated and requests still accepted :)


	20. A Beautiful Night

AN: Enjoy :)

Title: A beautiful night

Pairing: SenbonzakuraxRukia

Rating: T

The moon was out. The light it shed bathed the courtyard in almost daylight luminescence. Silent as the clouds trailing silvery dream-like through the dark sky, his steps made not a sound to disturb the peaceful quiet enveloping the Kuchiki mansion.

Slowly, gradually he had been gaining strength for this one thing. To look upon her slumbering face in corporeal form. It was no easy feat for the spirit of a Zanpaku-to to materialize outside of their wielder's consciousness. Even for one as powerful as he, whose falling of a thousand slicing petals was famous throughout Soul Society, it had taken over forty years for this to become even possible.

Now as he drew closer to his goal, he wondered what had drawn him to her from the very beginning.

This fragile, weak imitation of his wielder's wife.

Byakuya had loved Hisana and though he did not know it, Senbonzakura loved Rukia.

If he had learned of this unconceivable appropriation of sentiment he would've been appalled, ashamed at himself for not realizing-knowing-allowing it to exist when there was nothing but slight tenderness on his part for the memory of his wife towards his sister.

But Byakuya was Byakuya and Senbonzakura, however sharing the mind and soul of his wielder, could not avow the sharing of the same heart.

_His _heart was his own.

And though the small Shinigami could not see it--could not see _him_...

The doors were open.

A slight stirring came from within. The rustling of bedclothes, the light creak of the floor beneath one's feet. And finally... her voice. "Nii-sama...is that you?"

For all his stealth he had been found out. To acknowledge her would be to deceive her and yet...he knows his appearance. The lacquered mask feels heavy on his face, his breaths come short as if he's run a long distance. Vaguely he realizes his palms are sweaty. A most human thing has come over him.

He's nervous. "Yes." The deep, solemn tones are nearly the same.

He knows he's fooled her by her next statement, lacking question to his being outside her room. "Beautiful night isn't it?"

The night was nothing compared to her, but he knows better than to say such a thing and instead lets his silence speak for itself. The shifting-rustling again, Rukia sighs. Another thought occurs to him, "are you cold?" his voice is sharp.

"I'm not," for once she sounds sulky. As if she's hurt he would accuse her of such a thing. He was almost sure she was lying. _She was going to catch cold sitting up in bed like that!_ _And he couldn't let that happen_.

Slowly, his hands crept up to the cold metallic sides of the face mask. _In the dark she would never know the difference_...or so he reassured himself. The cool night air brushed against the exposed skin pleasantly. Senbonzakura laid aside his mask, meaning to pick it up later.

"Now get yourself to bed, Rukia." He said as sternly as possible, his armor-clad body concealing the moonlight from the room. Her gaze brought a burning feeling to his face. _Was this what the humans called a blush?_ She wasn't afraid at his approach, dropping to one knee at her side. She only looked curiously at the leather bracers on his forearms but said nothing as he drew the blankets from her lap to her shoulders, gently pushing her down.

"Nii-sama..." she began only when his back was turning. His pause made her hesitate; _surely he'd think her ridiculous or unseemly for asking_...

"C-Could you s-stay with me..." she finished a little breathlessly, "until I fall asleep?"

He felt some surprise at her request. _Did she truly believe it was Byakuya whom had tucked her in? _Senbonzakura observed the sheaf of dark hair that had fallen over her face, the spilled strands inky black in the near absence of light. She looked so slight like a child's doll made of fragile porcelain. _So easily breakable_...

He quailed at that thought. _He would never let anything harm her!_

A ghost of a smile and contented sigh left her lips as he settled back down, crossing his legs in the formal Seiza position. Rukia looked up at him through heavy lids, never questioning the proud regal features nor brush of midnight black hair that swept his shoulder plates.

Despite his peculiar dress for this time of night, he was her Nii-sama.

~Finis~

AN: :P I know I have requests to do, but couldn't resist giving this one a try! :) Thanks for reading :)

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated! :)


	21. Storm

AN: For Voidy. :)

Title: Storm

Rating: T

Requested Pairing: ZangetsuxRukia with a hint of IchigoxShirayuki

A storm was brewing.

Because _he_ couldn't find her.

The old warrior in the tattered cloak, glanced to the petite woman at his side, saying, "Ichigo is worried about you."

She tilted her chin up haughtily, "let him be." Her tone left no room for argument, "it's not like I'm in danger or anything. Besides..." she uncrossed her arms from her chest, one falling to slip around his, "if he wasn't such an idiot, he'd come and check here first."

Zangetsu could see the wisdom of this, even agreeing partially with her disgruntlement. Ichigo was foolish to not have checked within his Zanpaku-to's domain, perhaps Shirayuki hadn't reminded him to. After all it was not considered conventional by any means for the Zanpaku-to spirit of one to fall in love with a Shinigami and the spirit of the Shinigami's Zanpaku-to to prefer the society of the human.

_Therefore_...Zangetsu knew the right course would be to attempt dissuasion on the part of the Shinigami. "It would be best if you were to go."

Her large violet-blue eyes widened incredulously then narrowed in suspicion, "why?"

"Because," the Zanpaku-to spirit explained patiently, "it will rain soon. You may catch cold."

Rukia's look was unmoved to say the least, "please! I can take care of myself!" A droplet fell on her nose, her pout increased, "anyway...you're here."

Zangetsu didn't get her mysterious meaning and secretive smile that is until the petite Shinigami had wrapped her arms about him, burying her face in the middle of his chest. Sensing her determination not to be deterred from him, the Zanpaku-to spirit gave up, returning her embrace. A triumphant smile twitched on her lips, feeling his upper body bend slightly to shield her from the worst of the soaking.

It didn't matter that the topsy-turvy world showered them in a thousand tears, as long as he was there, she loved the rain.

~Finis~

AN: thanks for reading! :)

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Requests still accepted and I expect to update this collection at least twice a month! ;) on my profile there is a poll for which set of one-shots will be April's update. VOTE!

Please review! :)


	22. Happiness

AN: For Paper Plane and CottonballLOL. :) the readers have spoken!

Title: Happiness

Requested Pairing: KaienxRukia

Rating: T

_Damn, she was beautiful! _

He stopped his inner thought process once more, forcing his eyes to keep from lingering on her legs as she spread them apart, the smooth glide of the plain Katana rising in one elegant motion. _She had grace_, he had to give her that much. And though she as his student would blush indignantly to be told so, there was also a certain beauty in the way she moved.

_But beauty_...at the corner of his eye, he saw her ready her charge, the grasses rustling beneath the slide of her left foot and--he countered her strike with a swift uppercut of his sword. ..._didn't necessarily mean skill_.

Shocked, Rukia stared as the sword flew from her hands.

He hid his smile. She had almost--_almost_ distracted him there. "You need more practice!" he scoffed, averting his face from the sight of her large violet-blue eyes.

_Definite diversion there_.

He sensed her move away, stooping in the grasses to search for the errant Katana. From the corner of his eye, he watched her shuffle about. It disturbed him, these thoughts. She was just his student, someone he had taken under his wing to improve her skills.

_Yet these things_...

With a faint groan, he buried his face in his hands.

The things he wanted to do to her..._the images that kept him up late at the darkest part of the night, staring up the ceiling....wishing it were her beside him...awakening...touching him, asking if_--

"Kaien, sir?" _her_ voice took him from his thoughts. Her violet-blue eyes stared concernedly up at him, "are you alright?"

Kaien dropped his hands to her face, palms pressing against the sides of her cheeks. "Rukia, I..." he saw the confusion in her eyes, her lips parting to ask again the self-same question. _No_, he wanted to scream. _I'm never alright when I'm around you!_

--

He didn't blame the response of her inexperienced mouth , the light brush of her innocent tongue against his. _But he knew--he would show her how_. _But--but still_...slight, soft moans escaped from her, gradually by the easing of his hands to her shoulders, she melted down, barely breaking the kiss to breathe deeply against his throat.

"Sir, I..."

"Shh," he brought her onto his lap, supporting her in the circle of his arms. "Kuchiki...do you want this?"

Rukia blushed sweetly, her violet-blue eyes falling to her small hands pressed against his chest. Slowly, with increasing boldness, she slipped one against the firmness of his chest, her palm against the beat of his heart. "Yes, sir," she affirmed, smiling the rare true smile that issued from true happiness.

He saw her smile and couldn't help but feel less guilty as she lied down, eyes wide with the innocence he was going to take from her. _Something so wrong couldn't be all that bad, right? Not if it gave some happiness to one who needed it desperately_.

~Finis~

AN: thanks for reading :) next time, HyorinmaruxRukia! Don't forget on my profile there is another poll. VOTE!!!

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated :)


	23. Someday

AN: for Rui. :) you know who you are. Enjoy.

Title: Someday

Rating: T

Requested Pairing: HyorinmaruxRukia with hinted HitsugayaxRukia

The girl's sigh was like a thousand ice needles piercing his body.

Her tearless eyes, born of a grief that they both shared.

The first flurries heralding the beginning of the dark winter, fell. White flakes spinning to cover the earth in a blanket of purity. Yet, the girl did not move. Stood motionless, a figure of black and pale, hollowed sorrow in the field.

He watched her breath escape the warmth of her lips into a cloud of ashen mist. Though a child of snow she was, bitterest depths of anguish had plunged her into a world of numbness. She walked through life insensible to the looks and worries of others.

_Move on_, they said.

_I won't_, was her answer to their backs. Stubbornness was the trait that had made his wielder become aware of her existence. That same obduracy that Hitsugaya Toshiro had come to admire bred the same feeling in the mind of the one left behind: Hyorinmaru, the great ice Dragon. Wielder-less, like an asuachi with no name; he wandered the frozen paths that lead to Hitsugaya's resting place, hoping, wishing the other whom had been closest to his master's heart would come.

He hadn't had long to wait.

The moment the knot of mourners dispersed, the departure of his master's second-in-command and the sigh of the boy who would no longer be able to tease fondly the young Taichou, left his friend behind.

Before _she_ had stood respectfully back.

Before_ she_ hadn't approached the newly cast stone monument, indiscernible from the rest bearing the names of others whom had fallen in the war.

But now, she approached, dropping to her knees before the simple tablet, reading and rereading the Kanji characters of his name, her balled up hands bloodless from being clenched so tightly, opened to fall on the base of the stone, her head bowing, falling forward to press against the cool narrow slab.

She stayed there for a long time; he knew, because he was there too. Immaterial, hidden on his plain of existence, Hyorinmaru stayed and kept watch.

As time passed, years, the Zanpaku-to spirit assumed in the living world as the same brash young teenage boy appeared sometimes, an adult now and a full-fledged Shinigami...Kurosaki Ichigo still talked to the stone-if no one was around.

Kurosaki said: _look at me now_. Then would smile, _Toshiro_.

Hyorinmaru thought his master would _be _proud.

If he had lived. But would probably still correct Kurosaki: _it's Hitsugaya-Taichou!_

Whatever memory was invoked in the orange-haired Shinigami by visiting _his_ master's resting place still brought a smile and laugh to the young man's face. It was not so with her. Hyorinmaru watched with increasing alarm as the small girl traversed the uphill path, an emptiness to her eyes and left with the same hollowness to her expression. She gathered no comfort from visiting the gravesite. Only would rest in the same position as she had done the day of the burial, an urn mostly empty with the ashes of his burnt haori contained within.

Hyorinmaru watched her rise again as with other times, curved tips of dark hair framing her pale face. In the east, the sun was setting, the frost in the air a prelude to the coming night.

Two steps.

It was routine, one that she never sought to broke. One remorse-filled glance to the memorial for the young Taichou cut down early in life and then a sigh...and she would continue on.

But this time...

_He_ stepped forward.

_He_ filled her sight.

Kuchiki Rukia drew an intake of breath. "Who are you?" Her voice was as he remembered, though it had been years since he had heard her speak. But there was something missing to it...

"I think you know," his was gravelly, deep. Unlike Hitsugaya's resonant tones.

Rukia dipped her head once, "Hyorinmaru."

"Yes," it was surprising yet not displeasing to hear his name fall from her lips. "I am."

"Toshiro's...Zanpaku-to." she sounded faintly unsure of herself, as if struggling to grasp something which evaded her. Hyorinmaru sensed what she didn't know how to comprehend.

"Why...why are you still here?" Rukia finally asked. It was unsaid, but it was there. Faint accusation. _Why are you still here when he isn't?_ Hyorinmaru didn't know himself. How had his will survived when that of his wielder had perished? It was something he couldn't answer, didn't know how to phrase in human-speak save for...

"I know your grief is deep, Kuchiki Rukia-san, and know that I too bear the same melancholia that afflicts your soul. But know this..." his piercing turquoise eyes sought hers, the same shade of Hitsugaya's. He could see she was tormented intensely by this reminder and was troubled by what he saw.

"I..." Hyorinmaru closed the distance between them, reaching for the hand devoid of warmth hanging limply at her side. "I...want to ease your burden. I know I can never replace my master's place in your heart, but..." he clasped the frail child-like hand between his own larger hands, "if you will...accept me in his place."

For a long time, Rukia said nothing, her frozen glassy gaze resting on the whiteness surrounding them. Hyorinmaru had almost given up hope in believing her heart could ever be fixed when a single solitary tear rolled down her cheek.

"...shiro." Her whisper was a release, an acceptance of Hitsugaya Toshiro's passing. Hyorinmaru let her fall into his arms, crying, the floodgates broken at last. In time, he was sure, he would receive the answer to the question he had held for so long in his heart. In time he was sure she would accept him, but for now, he simply held her while she cried.

~Finis~

AN: Thanks for reading! Also thank you to CottonballLoL for the reviews!

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated!


	24. There is no heart without you

AN: the idea came to me and yes I know the title is from the manga. For Voidy. Enjoy.

Title: There is no heart without you

Requested Pairing: UkitakexRukia

Rating: T

The prognosis had been bleak.

A week, maybe less.

Rukia paused outside the doors to the inner-chamber, her hand poised above the thin panel. "I'm coming in," she announced quietly after breathing in deeply.

He was frailer than before. The notice pained her inside, but Rukia fought to control the rising lump in her throat. Ukitake was sitting up, warm brown eyes lifted her way. His smile as well always was gently welcoming. "Have Kiyone and Sentaro been told?"

Rukia stopped a few feet away from the bed, her hands folded at the small of her back. As Thirteenth's Lieutenant it was her duty to remain a symbol of strength and stability. She could not give into weak emotions the way they had. _She wouldn't cry_. "Yes, sir. I've assigned them lighter duties. I apologize for my failure to keep them from disturbing your rest previously."

_Always proper. Always stern_.

She watched his face break into a larger smile and laugh a little until a slight coughing fit made him stop. She maintained her stance, unmoving even though she longed to call for Unohana. The healer Captain had left half an hour before. Rukia knew she had done everything possible to extend his life, but...

"Has my replacement been decided yet?" His question though innocent and not at all affronted; brought the reality crashing down on her. Ukitake didn't seem to notice however, her silence nor the trembling of her body on the verge of a breakdown. "I've recommended Ichigo to take my place. A lot of them are for him." Another smile, "Kenpachi especially."

She listened to him talk on, always with a gentle intimation and a slight look in her direction.

_He-no everyone thought, Ichigo and she were_--

Her hands dropped to her sides, balling up, "how can you..speak so easily about this?!" Her voice was tight, her gaze tilted to the wooden floor. "How can you act as if we won't mourn your passing?!"

His smile dissolved and he began to look a little worried. "I haven't fully fulfilled my duties as a Captain for a long time, Rukia. It would be better--"

"No, it wouldn't!" swiping angrily at the tears streaming from her eyes, she continued, her voice becoming ragged, "how can you say such a thing?! You're our Captain! You've always been! No one could ever take your place! We.." Her breath caught in her throat, suddenly unable to speak, she looked to see his kindly face wreathed in worry. ".. I love you."

He was quiet for such a long time after that, that she became afraid she had misspoken. _That she shouldn't have said anything at all_. "I'm sor--"

"Rukia..."

She watched as he lightly patted the edge of the bed.

"It's alright."

She went to him, crumpling in the weak embrace and the gentle pats to her head.

That night he died and Rukia knew then that Thirteenth Division had truly lost its heart.

~Finis~

AN: The poll is still up, but think of this as a bonus chapter. :) Thanks for reading

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated ^^


	25. Going under

AN: For PaperPlane.

Title: Going under

Requested pairing: one-sided Rukia x Ulquiorra and Ulquihime even though I can't stand Orihime in this one. Also hinted IchiYoru.

Rating: T

;.;

It was like going under. Of losing your breath and being unable to catch it. It was horrible the feeling that gripped her in vise-like claws until her eyes were welling with unshed tears and her heart was being ripped apart.

_Tears of joy_, everyone would think.

_Tears of pain, of frustration_, Rukia thought sardonically. Helplessly she watched her best friend walk up the aisle resplendent in a white satin gown. The style was simple yet she was as radiant as a princess. _Of what might have been_.

She didn't want to look at **him** receiving the woman whom was to become his wife.

_It's too late_, Rukia told herself, the flash of Tatsuki's digital camera a multi-hued flash blinding her eyes blessedly as **He** extended his hand toward her best friend. He was attired in a plain dress shirt with black stovepipe pants and loafers. Nothing could've suited his dark good looks nor vivid green eyes other than such a monochrome canvas.

Those eyes that when they looked into hers, she felt like she was falling, drowning in their vast depths.

Even then his very image was engraved in her mind-her thoughts. Rukia couldn't remember a single moment when they hadn't been together. _Inoue, she and him_. Every memory, every fourth second of her life was filled with this remembrance or that touch. His voice sent chills up her spine even when it wasn't meant for her. "Orihime..."

In her fantasy.

her dream of so long..

He was saying _Rukia_.

he was giving her the smile he gave to no one else.

It was Inoue in the fuchsia bridesmaid dress on the sidelines and it was she-Rukia in a white summer dress taking his hand.

The snap and flash of another of Tatsuki's picture-taking moments drew Rukia to look across to **him**. So close. The minister was saying, "..in sickness and in health." Orihime was smiling contentedly at the world. _The princess always got her happy ending_. Rukia switched her agonized gaze to his face framed by layered black hair. She remembered Orihime's observation on the situation of both of their bangs being just so.

She remembered the squirming-happy-fluttery sensation at being compared to the boy who was their mutual friend. She hadn't understood its source then. That other feeling that accompanied his quiet dismissal of any comparison between him and the cootie girl.

_Hurt. _

Rukia didn't show her feelings the way others did. She punched his shoulder and screamed they were nothing alike, storming off to hide and cry alone. That was her first rejection. Because, a then five-year old Rukia reasoned. Didn't Orihime have cooties just like her?

The second came when a ten-year-old Rukia received a Valentines' day heart from him. Only then was she starting to barely understand the concept of her emotions and why she felt the blissful happiness when she looked at the white paper heart pinned to the wall above her bed. Orihime showed her the next day, the one_ he_ gave her; it was red.

The third was when they were in high-school and Rukia realized what her feelings were.

_She was in love with him_. She even remembered hiding all day from him, afraid he'd see the emotion written in her eyes. She didn't want to be another silly cow chasing after a boy. Oh, no. She was going to talk it over with her other dear friend, Orihime. Surely the orangette could tell her on best how to approach him...

It was at Orihime's brother's apartment while Sora was at work; that Orihime confessed she was in love too. Rukia at first was ecstatic and admitted she was too. _Now they were the same!_ In her mind she was already planning all the perfect double dates Orihime and mystery guy along with she and Ulquiorra would go on.

"So, how do you think I should approach him?"

"Who?" Rukia was sure it was Ichigo Kurosaki whom was also an acquaintance, but lived across town so they didn't see each other as much."Why, Ulquiorra-kun, of course." Orihime said happily.

Rukia still remembered Orihime's innocent reply that made her feel as if she was drowning. In her stupidity. Anguish. Jealousy and pain. Rukia still remembered the bitter bile rising in her throat and the urge to vomit as wave after wave of intense emotion gripped her. Everything spun out of focus all...except for her friend's lovely rounded cheeks and large worried eyes.

"Are you okay, Rukia?" Innocent, pure Orihime who didn't know it was the very same boy whom Rukia was going to ask. Whom it was the very same one they both loved. Orihime could never know. Even though Rukia wasn't good at showing how she felt except through kicks/hits/ punches; it still felt like she was going under.

"Yeah, hime-chan." Rukia lied, affecting the smile she gave to the world.

Orihime never knew the difference.

Another might've done something, spoken up, gone behind their friend's back.

But, Rukia-a Kuchiki by adoption couldn't do that. She wouldn't shame herself nor betray her friend's precious trust even though it hurt something fierce waiting only a few feet away from him and her as they conversed in low tones after Track and Field.

Rukia could still see him the way he was then.

Slight color adorning his pale features like the dusting of blush, eyes the color of precious emeralds framed by raven lashes lowering then widening as Orihime threw her arms about him in a spasm of emotion while Rukia secretly died a little more inside in a paroxysm of misery.

-It was for her friend-

-for the happiness of two dearly loved friends-

She barely heard Orihime's call to her not to wait up; giggling she added they were going to walk home together. No, Rukia couldn't hear her. Not with the sound of the ocean crashing in her ears. Only some feeling remained in her body as her head turned toward them. Leaving the field side by side. Tentatively Orihime's hand brushed his and he accepted.

So, they went hand in hand.

In _her_ fantasy.

It was Orihime looking after she and Ulquiorra.

It was **her** hand that reached for his and was clasped so gently.

It was..it was Orihime he didn't take a second look at and not she-Rukia.

She muffled the broken sob in her shoulder, pressing her mouth against the cashmere of the tan sweater. In the crumbling dream, she-Rukia, was beautiful and Orihime had all the qualities that made Ulquiorra turn away.

Rukia hated herself then.

;.;

As she did now.

"...and forever hold your peace." The minister announced.

The small church became silent as the assembly sat in serenity, knowing no one would dare to steal the princess's happiness away.

_I have an objection!_ In Rukia's mind she cried it.

Orihime would turn to her, shocked.

Tatsuki would glower and threaten with her snapping black eyes.

Ichigo would smile and secretly give her a thumbs up of encouragement since it was long since that she had told him of her secret unable to bear keeping silent anymore. Ichigo's girlfriend, the kick boxer, Yoruichi would smirk as well and look to Tatsuki in meaning. Rukia still had friends and backing.

And...and...

**He**. Ulquiorra would look at her and see what had been in front of him all that time.

But Rukia didn't say anything.

Her dream cracked into a million pieces as Ulquiorra didn't turn to her, didn't look at her. Why should he? Beautiful Orihime was on his arm and looking up into his face with her own expression shining with adoration.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Ulquiorra did look at her.

Like always when their eyes met, it was like she was falling all over again.

Before reality made her crash down as Orihime claimed what was hers.

Now Rukia felt like she was drowning. Going under in the ocean of pain that was her sacrifice.

It was as if the very air was water filling her lungs, choking her with ugly, loathsome feelings as she watched every touch and nuzzle and caress of his lips on her friend's.

She closed her eyes to the scene and rushed out, running from everything.

Tatsuki's accusing face.

Ichigo's face scowling in worry.

Yoruichi's understanding look. _She herself knew what it was like to be left for another_.

Orihime's aglow with happiness, ever selfish in her own little world.

But, it was **his** face.

His was the only one that mattered.

That and the emotion Rukia's engulfed mind filled with so many intense, painful feelings clung onto like a lifeline that buoyed up her anguished soul.

In his eyes there had been regret.

~Finis~

AN: ;.; thanks for reading! /thanks to everyone who reviewed last time too! Voidy: sorry, I didn't realize it wasn't you whom had requested UkitakexRukia :p

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated! ^^

Ps: there maybe another bonus chapter sometime this month, WonderweissxRukia! Squee! Such crack! ;p


	26. In the darkness

AN: something extra I had in my doc box. :)

Title: In the Darkness

Rating: T

Pairing: AaronieroxRukia

"However..." his hand slid along the top of her head, a smile slipped into place, "there is something I need." He saw that she was listening intently, ready to agree to anything he asked of her. "If you really... want to atone for what you did then..." something inside stirred, the part of him that was Shiba, the greedy, grasping covetous piece that was left of the man, waited in silence. "Stay with me." The hammer had fallen, Rukia's expression revealed naked shock and disbelief.

"S-Sir?" her chin tilted up to fully take in his still smiling face, "y-you're kidding right?"

The Espada shook his head, adopting Shiba's serious look, "does it look like I'm _unserious_, Rukia?" Her eyes widened and slowly she bobbed her head from side to side. "N-no, sir."

"Well, then..." he clapped her shoulder comradely, "you know what to do, don't you?"

She shook her head mutely still taken aback that _he _would ask that, the one thing she always wanted to have with Kaien Shiba. _To stay at his side_.

"Why, rescue your friend, of course!" The Espada drew his brows together in consternation, "wasn't that what you said you had to do first before complying with anything I asked of you?"

Rukia gazed up at him in amazement. _This truly was Assistant Captain Kaien Shiba_. "Yes, sir!" her voice was slightly higher, her faith restored. He patted her again on top of her head, ruffling her hair the way Shiba remembered doing. "Get going!" He released her, "then when your friend is safe...come back." His smile was slow and steady, "to this palace of darkness. Come back to _me_."

She nodded shakily, tearfully but not with fear. "Sir..." she hesitated once, going back the way she had been lead in, "...why me?" there was a tremble of faint hope maintained within her voice.

"Miyako was my wife in name only." Kaien Shiba answered, "but...she wasn't the one I cared for. Not the one I loved. Now...go Rukia, don't leave me waiting long!"

Rukia smiled watery a smile of happiness, "yes, sir!" and ran off.

Kaien watched her go, the cold surface of his palm still retaining a thread of her warmth. His hand closed over it gently, his smile soft.

_Kuchiki would return to him_. He knew she would. Because she had his heart...and always would.

~Finis~

AN: an alternate take on Aaroniero and Rukia's meeting. Thanks for reading!

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated! ^-^


	27. Art

AN: :) enjoy

Pairing: NobaxRukia

Rating: T

Title: Art

The pencil scratched along the paper. Alternately she tilted her head from side to side, her socked feet crooked in the air, one hand propped up her chin. From across the room, leaning against the wall the redheaded mod-soul worked as diligently. Maybe with less of a frown...or not, since one really couldn't see much of his face behind the half-mask.

"All finished!" Rukia cried triumphantly a moment later.

Noba straightened, folding his sketchpad over with a neat flick of his wrist.

Rukia perched at the edge of the bed, her paper already on display.

Ichigo annoyed at the silence, stared between the two pictures. "You call that art?" he jabbed a finger at her masterpiece jeeringly and laughed. A moment later her fist flew and Ichigo as well...fairly flew out the door.

Noba watched their violent-er friendly exchange and gave a soft, muffled chuckle. "Guess you win, Kuchiki-san." Rukia slammed the door, ignoring Ichigo's curses about 'that midget' and slowly turned to the mod-soul, a smirk playing about her lips. "I don't know if I should be insulted or not, but..."

The Kuchiki princess's advance was slow, deliberately she paused before him, tilting her head with an air of coquettishness as her hands carefully unfastened the mask from his face. "Well?" Noba tentatively probed, afraid something about his features might cause her to turn away in disgust.

She gazed up at him saying nothing for the longest time until suddenly she smiled, darting up to leave a tiny kiss on his cheek. "Just as I imagined you would be."

~Finis~

AN: something short. By the way, it was a who-can-draw-Ichigo-worse contest. Thanks for reading :)

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated ^^


	28. By your side

AN: warning. Diversion from canon-so don't expect anything to match up to the latest manga chapters. Meaning no HichiZan fusion.

Pairing: _Tensa_ ZangetsuxRukia with-ick. Ichihime

Title: By your side

Rating: T

...enjoy...

Ichigo loved Orihime.

That was only fair.

Rukia wasn't jealous, she wasn't going to begrudge happiness to her best friends. She had always known that Ichigo's feelings ran deeper, his care more tender toward the bubbly-happy girl. And that was what every guy wanted, wasn't it?

A pretty face and great body and the smile that lit up a room.

Not someone who yelled at them. Called them 'baka' at any little thing and possessed no body to speak of that attracted attention of any sort save for the occasional attack from the perverted plush lion that lived in one of the drawers in Ichigo's room.

_It was alright_, Rukia reassured herself glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand. _Ichigo had warned that he might be late_ _walking Orihime home_. Not that she needed him around at all, in fact only recently she had discovered that she didn't the sub nearby to enter another's world.

_Another mindscape that is_.

(*~*)

"He's happy."

The world she stepped through from the blinding white of the snow-bound field was a change from the light to the darkness. Twilight had fallen over the topsy-turvy world of skyscrapers yet she immediately saw what the spirit referred to.

Bright colors haloed the firmament like the aurora borealis. In vivid greens and fiery reds, sedate blues to vibrant pinks. Rukia could've felt almost jealous at the display of love that Ichigo held for the kind healer, had her gaze not beheld the slim man in a red-lined black coat waiting for her. The hood for once wasn't concealing his face and for that she was glad.

"He loves her." Somber brown eyes met hers.

"Yes." she agreed without pain.

"But, I don't."

Rukia silently absorbed this for a moment. Finding it within herself to smirk at the seriousness of their situation, ignoring all possible ends to the slice of something so indefinable that she refused to give it definition for fear that like everything else in her life thus far, it would slip through her fingers like sand.

"Oh? Whom is it you care for in Orihime's stead? Do I know them?" Rukia liked to tease him. She would never hit him physically the way she did Ichigo; she respected the dignity of the Zanpaku-to too much for that. Or maybe it was just that he was so different, so grave, so contemplative of the world that Rukia couldn't find their interactions easy to explain.

_Just __**what**__ did they have?_

Sode no Shirayuki said nothing at her wielder's disappearances into that _other_ world. No matter the breaking of the inviolable law separating Shinigami from Zanpaku-to.

But, Rukia had never cared for Laws.

She had until Ichigo had broken them all.

"Just by being, you've given him life-"the Zanpaku-to's resonant tones rippled through the air.

Rukia silently thrilled at the sound of his voice, but would never tell him that. "-but his heart belongs to another. It's okay-no really!" She was just fine knowing she would never have Ichigo's love. _As long as_...

"The boy is foolish." The Zanpaku-to shook his head, thick strands of dark wavy hair rustled against smooth youthful skin. "Maybe so," her heartbeat sped up. "But I have you."

He said nothing for a time, the thoughts going through his mind unreadable to her impatient eyes. His silence made her fearful.

"Tensa-"

"Someday we may be separated. Can you accept the inevitability of this?"

_Don't say it_. Her eyes slanted downward, her lip stuck out in a stubborn pout. "You know my answer already so why question what I've been resolved to do from the beginning?" She couldn't keep the edge of annoyance from her tone.

"No.." he began slowly after a moment longer of observing her expression. "I suppose the answer was clear after all."

Rukia unsure of precisely what he meant by that enigmatic sentence, pretended to for the sake of not wanting to appear ignorant of what he clearly saw. "Now, you're talking sense." In a rare moment of when the exterior reflected the interior, the Zanpaku-to let a small smile grace his thin lips.

"You meant to honor what you said?"

_No matter how long it takes..I will end your loneliness_.

"Uh huh. So, no plots on how to get rid of me!"

The Zanpaku-to's smile was softer now. Less of a brittle, borrowed thing that could break at any second than of one reflecting true happiness.

"Then you alone ...I will care for." Tensa Zangetsu said solemnly.

Rukia smiled in return, closing the distance between them to lay her head against his firm chest. "That's all I needed to hear."

~Finis~

AN: thanks for reading :)

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated! ^-^


	29. Spoils of War

AN: For ToshiroHitsugayagirlfriend :)

Title: Spoils of War

Requested pairing: Tensa ZangetsuxRukia with hints of HichiRuki and IchiRuki

Rating: T?

Neither had won.

The battle had been lost inside and outside.

All that was left behind was a sword.

Rukia knew it, racing into the blasted Park; Orihime and Chad at her heels. It stood tall, slightly crooked rammed into the earth as if by a great force. The four prongs forming the Manji gleamed dully, the long shaded black Daito katana was stained red. Her heart in her throat, Rukia fell before it, her fingers scrabbling to free the shred of material caught beneath the blade tip.

It disintegrated into nothingness.

There was no body, nor trace of Ichigo's reiatsu.

Only Tensa Zangetsu remained.

Rukia stared at the sword without tears and said, "no."

(31)

Urahara couldn't explain it. In all his long years of science and creation, the former Taichou could not tell them why Ichigo Kurosaki's Zanpaku-to still existed. Her hands wrapped around the sheathed black sword, the sound of Orihime's crying in the next room pervaded the atmosphere with despair.

She herself hadn't shed tears. She refused to. _Why shed them when that idiot could still be out there alive somewhere?_ At least that was the hypothesis she tried to make to the shopkeeper. _Wasn't it proof enough that the sword was in her hands? _

The former Taichou stayed silent for a time; the sobs had lessened until only Yoruichi's soothing words and the soft hiccups of the human girl were heard.

"Well?" Rukia couldn't help but feel impatience burning in the depths of her soul for the confirmation that her assumption wasn't far from the truth. After all the Ichigo she knew was far too stubborn to simply die from trying to crush the Hollow inside.

Urahara had smiled then, if only a glimmer of his usual lightheartedness remaining. "Perhaps, Ms. Kuchiki. Perhaps...you are right."

Vindicated, she had clutched the cold scabbard tighter to her body.

_Of course she was right!_ Rukia knew she just had to keep believing in him.._that he would return!_

(31)

She took the sword with her.

The scabbard fit over her back, held in place by the black bandages that had suddenly appeared from its hilt. Rukia had studied this new phenomenon with smugness as she happily concurred that the sword still possessed a consciousness linked to Ichigo.

Which only furthered her reasoning that he was still alive.

(31)

She talked to it. If the sword maintained that link then maybe Ichigo would hear her voice. Sometimes she felt as though it listened, resonating a certain kind of sympathy as she spoke of her responsibilities as Thirteenth's new Fukutaichou. She could be dead tired from the tasks that fell to her from Ukitake's long and worsening illness, but a smile would always come onto her face when she would enter her room at night.

Rukia even felt as though it waited for her.

Voiceless. Still. But, waiting.

She even polished it.

(31)

Then little by little, the scabbard began to gleam. A vivid blue glow tinted the curved cutting edge when she held it in her hands. Rukia marveled at it, tilting it this and that way to catch the slanted moonlight falling in from the door open to the gardens.

She felt the power slowly growing within it like a seed that had barely begun to germinate. Gladness flooded her heart, "oh, Ichigo..." _for sure this was a sign that he was coming!_

The blade poised carefully between her hands pulsated with a sudden vehemence, a crimson tint emanating from it.

Surprise clouded her expression but it quickly faded. _She had been right! The sword had heard her!_ Rukia was sure the Zanpaku-to missed its wielder and longed for his return as much as she did.

"Soon...Tensa. Soon, he'll come." She reassured as she slipped the sword back into its scabbard. Inch by inch the glowing blade disappeared until she rose to place it beside Sode no Shirayuki on the stand. The slightest chill pervaded the air, a reminder of the white sword's unhappiness.

Sode no Shirayuki had abjectly refused any attempt to breach the veil between the mindscapes for a reason Rukia herself didn't even know.

(31)

In the deepest, darkest part of night, a red glow suffused the room.

The sheath resting in the lower tier of the ornate stand, shook.

Clattering in its sheath.

In her slumber, Rukia murmured something.

The shaking stopped.

Appeased, the sword became motionless once again.

She had said its name.

(31)

Because Urahara had asked her to, Rukia sent a message once and a while to tell of the sword's progress.

With this new one, she had happily written out the note, sending it off before leaving to attend to her duties. _Surely now he couldn't deny that Ichigo was alive! _Her mind filled with these thoughts and others, failed to see the inch of black blade that had slipped out from the sheath.

(31)

Urahara read the message. Then reread it, Yoruichi leaning over his shoulder to glimpse the words written in Rukia's characteristic style. Yellow-green eyes widened marginally, "Kisuke-"

"I know." His voice was somber.

"You don't think...?" The question remained unspoken.

"It's not possible." His shadowed eyes slanted upward to meet hers, "As much as I regret to say it, Kurosaki-kun is dead. There is no reason other than of the will of the spirit that has kept his Zanpaku-to from ceasing to exist."

(31)

The sword was on the floor. Rukia picked it up, knowing for certain that it hadn't been that way when she had left. _Maybe one of the maids was careless_...

It irked her to assume that someone else other than her had touched Ichigo's sword.

_She would have to have a talk with them later_..

Disregarding the matter as trivial, she resheathed it, leaving Sode no Shirayuki behind.

"How are you today, Tensa?"

(31)

She had fallen asleep. The sword was in her arms, leaning against her shoulder.

She dreamed..oh yes. She dreamed of a sideways city in ruins.

Rukia started awake. In the dimness, light slanted across her body.

_Tensa Zangetsu_...

She smiled to herself and closed her eyes, snuggling down against the blanket she lay on.

The touch of fingertips feather light awakened her yet again.

Her eyes snapped open. The face of a young man hovered over her.

_'Who-!'_ She couldn't move. In vain, she struggled, her eyes widening as the stranger traced the shape of her jaw with a single finger.

_**'Kuchiki Rukia..'**_ She could hear his voice in her mind_. __**'Kurosaki Ichigo is no more.'**_

_'No!' _Her lips trembled, her eyes flashing with anger. 'You're wrong! Ichigo is-'

_**'I pierced his heart.'**_

Coldness flooded her body. _I_. This was...

_**'And the Hollow's mind. Kurosaki Ichigo and his Hollow killed each other.'**_ The sword said tonelessly.

"T-T-Tensa...Zangetsu?" her whisper echoed aloud in the silent room. There was no sound from his cloak flowing in the nonexistent wind nor true change of expression save for the slightest curl in his mouth. _**'You've spoken my name..' **_ The hand that had rested against her collarbone, lifted, fingers sliding through her hair. _**'You and only you were what saved..**__**us**__**.'**_ The darkness in his tone drew chills to dance across her skin or it might've been his breath fanning across her throat.

Over her lips.

Lingering.

Chocolate brown eyes, their unplumbed depths swimming with a loneliness that she felt all the way into her soul; stared into hers. Then suddenly they became black with stark yellow irises, his mouth twisted in a leer. _The Hollow!_

_**'We'll never let you go.. Queen.'**_

Rukia watched in mute horror as the black sclera faded into warm amber.

_**'I love you, Rukia.'**_

_Ichigo! _

_**'We'll be together...'**_ Tensa Zangetsu stroked her cheek, before closing the distance between them.

_**'Forever.' **_

-Finis-

AN: :) thanks for reading

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Please review! :)


	30. She's a beautiful girl

AN: for Hekka. Enjoy.

Requested pairing: IchigoxRukia

Rating: T

Title: She's a beautiful girl

* * *

Okay, so she punched him.

The response was an automatic one for when Ichigo was being- A. an idiot- B. still ever more an idiot and...C.

Rukia sighed to herself.

For being oblivious to Orihime's feelings for him.

The orangette looked seconds from tears, biting her lip just so and wrinkling her brow.

Now, she couldn't have that being the kind friend she was, so naturally Rukia blamed Ichigo.

Another punch.

"What the hell was that for?" Of course he started yelling. Red-faced and attempting to stem his bloody nose that just added to the mess on his Shihakusho front. _He was an idiot_, Rukia reminded herself, crossing her arms.

_He was idiot...for getting in the way of the Doom blast just to..keep her safe_.

"For being a _baka_, baka!"

"H-Hey! Did you just insult me twice!"

This time she smirked, "maybe I did. But it's only what you deserve..trying to call me beautiful."

Ichigo opened and closed his mouth several times, gaping like a fish. Then finally, he plowed his hands through his bright hair, scowling, "you're impossible, you know that."

"I'm impossible?" Uncrossing her arms, she swung about to face him. "Me-_impossible_? Where the hell would you get such a weird idea? You brain must be fried from that Doom blast or something..."

On cue, he retorted hotly, "yeah, well! If not for me jumping in front of you, you wouldn't even be here!"

"Oh? And I'm supposed to care?" her sarcasm for the most part was unnoticed. Within seconds, he had crossed the space between them, grabbing her thin shoulders, shaking her slightly."Don't you ever say things like that again! You-"

"Well, don't _you_ ever say things like I'm beautiful ever again either! You creep me out when you do!" Rukia was aware of Orihime watching them, not smiling, not crying just watching without expression. _Hurry_- The Shinigami silently urged- _tell him how you feel!_

She as well as everyone-save for the intended, knew of Orihime's love. Which was why it was terribly frustrating when his warm amber orbs looked down, staring so intensely into hers.

"Why?" The irritation and annoyance had vanished completely.

"Why, what?" Rukia still felt annoyed though maybe it because her foolish heart beat a little louder or maybe it was because she felt like she was drowning-melting into the deep honey color of his eyes whenever he looked at her that way.

"'Cause _you are_ beautiful."

"No, I'm not." The denial was fast as automatic as the physical punch moments before. "I'm not... so quit lying."

"Who's being the idiot now?" His tone just dripped smugness.

She knew she had to put a stop to it before she started believing it. "You're the only baka around. Since everyone can see that Orihime's much prettier than me." There. Nearly satisfied with her unselfish recommendation, Rukia was only slightly disturbed to find discontent radiating from somewhere beneath her sadly lacking breast.

His reply totally took her aback.

"What's Orihime to do with anything? I was merely commenting on the fact that your midget-size has somehow weirdly enough grown on me."

_Midget-size!_ Her mind snapped, but she found her mouth couldn't quite work properly. _Grown on me?_ Instead, she pondered. _What did that mean-? _"W-We're just friends, baka. You shouldn't be saying those things unless you mean them!" her voice came out wobblier than she had meant.

His smirk deepened, watching the confusion play across her face. "In case you don't get it, Rukia. What I mean is...I want to be more than _just friends_."

"B-But-" A blush warmed her cheeks. "O-Ori-"

"Oh! I just remembered something! E-Excuse me, Ichigo! I really have to get going!" her friend scrambled to say, sensitive enough to know that her presence wasn't appreciated.

He barely even spared her a glance. "Oh, okay, thanks for healing us, Orihime."

Rukia caught sight of the girl's hurt expression before she ran off. "Hey! Orihime, wai-" she made half a move to get out from the cage of the Strawberry's arms, feeling them unexpectedly tighten.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

She glared as hard as she could. "After Orihime! I have to-"

"- answer me." Ichigo finished in a low undertone so unlike his usual raucous yells.

"I wasn't aware there was a question."

He rolled his eyes. "Get with the program, midget."

She kicked his shin.

He glared this time. "I find you beautiful, dammit! Are you willing to change and see us as more than friends?"

_Oh_. Rukia felt ridiculous for not seeing it at first. _So that was the question_. More than friends...her eyes slanted almost guiltily away. "You really think...I'm beautiful?" she asked quietly moments later. No one had ever said it to her. So, it felt..strange to associate the word with her sense of self.

She knew she wasn't beautiful. Anything but...but still...she kind of wanted to hear it again.

"Of course I do, idiot. I said I did, didn't I?" The smirk was back in full force.

She needed to wipe it away. "..you did. But, before I consider us as anything other than friends..." her eyes hardened. "You need to apologize to Orihime!"

He scratched the side of his head, "and why would I need to do that?"

_Sometimes...his obliviousness drove her crazy_. "Now, who needs to get with the program, you baka."

Annoyed, he stroked her cheek, using slightly more force than necessary. "Oh, shut it."

-Finis-

AN: thanks for reading :) requests still taken.

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Please review!


	31. Dreams of a dying moon

AN: Nearly a drabble. Enjoy.

Title: Dreams of a dying moon

Pairing: Tensa ZangetsuxRukia

_What does a sword dream of?_

_Battles. Tasting victory at the blade's edge. _

_Of strong wielders bearing strong hearts. To protect...ah but, here there is a differentiation. _

_Protect bore two meanings_.

In the space continuum of emptiness, scattered remnants of spiritual pressure floated discombobulated, broken off from their whole. It was there that _he_ floated as well among the fragments. Nearly without being as the usage of Mugetsu had taken everything and more.

_My duty is complete_.

There was some sense of pride lingering as he had fulfilled the very task he had been brought into being for. _To protect_. Ichigo first...then the woman whom had made the rain stop falling.

_Rukia Kuchiki_. Strange, what was left of the moon cutter thought. It was Ichigo to whom he was selfish for yet, at the same instant the sacrifice wasn't so great to give.

_Her_ world had been saved as well.

More than strange. Beyond real comprehension dwelled the slightest of feelings. Sensation- perhaps was the correct definition. _Wistfulness. _There was something _more_ the remnants of a black Zanpaku-to dream of. It was so dear- yet impossible that he dared not speak of it aloud before when there was time.

Time and hope.

The sword dreamed of seeing Rukia Kuchiki's smile just for him.

-Finis-

AN: something short *yawns* thanks for reading ^-^

No flames-haters!

Pwease review! ^-~


	32. One big happy family

AN: for Rukiharem

Title: One big happy family

Requested Pairing: WonderweissxRukia with hints of GinxRukia

Rating: T

* * *

Mama.

That was one word Rukia never expected to hear-perhaps ever in her undead lifetime. She had no plans on children as births from Shinigami parents were exceedingly rare. Ichigo's dad might've looked upon her with a wistful sometimes commenting about grandchildren which made her shudder in thought.

She and Ichigo as parents? _No way!_

_They were friends-nakama-comrades!_

Rukia would tell that to anyone whom asked, although for some strange indefinable reason...it did bother her a little. Just a little. Of how vehement Ichigo was to everyone that they were just precisely that.

_Friends. _

But, she did digress. Refocusing from the inner confusion she had just been plunged into by the strange little blond Arrancar's utterance. "Mama!" It cried again, crawling almost like an overgrown baby on the reishii traction supporting its weight. A peculiar little bone circlet adorned its forehead, capping soft waves of neatly trimmed blond locks. Rukia could almost say it was cute, despite being an Arrancar and all.

"Prepare yourself!" she barked instead, mentally kicking herself for the moment of weakness. Faltering when Urahara and the other Shinigami were hard-pressed to repel the assaults of the Arrancar.

"Mai, Sode no-"

"MAMA!" hollered the child-like Arrancar, more demandingly. Waves seemed to emanate outward from its mouth, dainty teeth flashing in the mid-afternoon sun. She began to spiral downward, her equilibrium suddenly and terribly unbalanced. The little Arrancar gave a happy sort of chirp and dove after her, arms outstretched.

_Oh..oh no...no! _Kicking her legs furiously, Rukia attempted to right herself, her eyes widening as the Arrancar's descent seemed much faster than her own_. Oh-no-no-no! We're going to-_

Something heavy and small collided into her stomach.

The air knocked out of her, she barely felt the tight vise a pair of limbs kept around her middle, a melon-sized head snuggling into her bosom.

"Ms. Kuchiki-!" Urahara's voice grew fainter and fainter away.

Until only the cry of: "Mama!" filled her ears...

-TBC_

AN: *turns pink* old request... *not finished either but it was all I had to post at the moment! Wah! Thanks for reading...

No flames!

Reviews appreciated + requests still accepted.

(Has a GrimmRuki and that old IchiRuki still unfinis plus Rukihime buried somewhere...)


	33. Ignorance is a state of bliss

**AN: okay. So, I know I had promised the NnoiRuki, but I decided to do this one, now a while back, an M-rated IshiRuki had been requested. This is not it, but a separate request for dear Sepsis. -.-; I apologize about the lateness, but enjoy.**

**Requested Pairing: IshidaxRukia**

**Rating: T**

**Summary: He could deny it all he wanted even with that little snarky voice telling him otherwise..Uryu Ishida just did 'not' have a crush on Rukia Kuchiki.**

**Title: Ignorance is a state of bliss**

* * *

It all started with a glove. No, that wasn't it precisely, Uryu knew when to define the rational and the loud-_sometimes_-annoying girl who popped into his life from time to time.

It wasn't as Orihime fantasized in earlier days, of a secret crush her friend nursed on the petite girl they all one way or another rallied around. Crushes were for weaklings. For evoking blushes and fumbling conversations.

Gods forbid, his heart _ever_ flutter while in the presence of one Rukia Kuchiki.

Uryu had many reasons for ignoring the slight persistent turn his thoughts took whenever the petite raven-haired girl was thundering around the small town. For one thing, Kurosaki was- was what exactly? A friend? The Quincy turned his nose up at such notions, even when sometimes he was secretly glad the sub had his back during past battles.

_But, what was Kurosaki to Rukia?_

Despite his many musings on the matter, defining it failed him.

He doubted that Kurosaki was his rival, in that _manner_.

Not that Uryu even paused to consider what that niggling, severely distracting part of his mind was hinting at. _It was too impossible to believe!_

"Absurd." He hissed to himself, his brisk stride along one of Karakura's quieter thoroughfares suddenly halted by an- _oomph!_ and a light shove. Uryu stumbled back, concern clouding his expression at once, "oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't-" he broke off immediately as the girl whom his thoughts had been previously taunting him about; tapped her brown-loafered foot. Shaking her head briskly to dismiss his forthcoming apology.

"It's alright. My fault really."

"Yours, Kuchiki-san?" He said rhetorically before even considering his choice of phrasing. With anyone else- namely a certain carrot top, the sentence would've warranted a pummeling. With him however, a slight smile curved her lips and she looked almost shyly away.

"Yeah, see, I've been looking for you all afternoon- Ichigo said it was stupid," her eyes rolled to the blue sky above in emphasis, "but, you know how Ichigo is."

Not knowing what else to do, Uryu sighed along with her, agreeing. "Kurosaki can be an idiot. Now tell me, Kuchiki-san, how can I help you?"

A look of slyness crossed her _pretty_- wait. He hadn't just thought that of all girls in the female species, that Rukia Kuchiki was...heaven forbid, _pretty?_

His snarky little inner voice agreed.

"Fix my glove?" Rukia asked, leaning right up into his face with her most charming-nee- seductive smile. Uryu felt a strange warmth creeping onto his face and decided it best if he simply nodded. He didn't trust his voice enough to vocalize his consent.

"Good." Rukia stepped back, suddenly business-like, thrusting her red skull glove into his free hand. Uryu glanced over it cursorily, discovering a half-inch tear along the inside of the palm. "This won't take long at all.."

(*)*)*)

It didn't.

Somehow, he found he didn't quite want their time to go by so fast.

He slowed his stitches.

Rhythmically pulling the needle in and out of the thick neoprene like fabric. Uryu had insisted, knowing his father to still be working and not due home for a few hours more; that they both retire to his room. Rukia of course didn't know about how his father despised Soul reapers as a whole so she went along and was contentedly scanning the walls of his sparsely furnished yet orderly room.

Twice she had declined a drink he had offered as the perfect host; then three times refused the chair at his desk, he sat on the edge of the bed, for propriety's sake. Uryu kept his head bent over his work, aware though of every nearly silent swish of her skirt that he had only recently noticed how _improperly_ short it was.

The slight shifting of the floorboards beneath the pair of borrowed slippers left out for houseguests, not that there were ever that many. Ryuken Ishida was a private man and his son was no exception. However, despite the fact _she_ was a Soul reaper, he was very comfortable in her presence.

The shifting stopped.

Uryu pretended to drop the needle, giving him an excuse to look up.

Rukia had stopped her pacing and was leaning against the wall across from him, her arms were crossed over her small breast and she appeared deep in thought.

_About what-?_ He was curious to know, yet thought asking would be unseemly as they barely knew one another. The snarky little voice in the back of his mind, prodded him to ask. Uryu battled with the idea momentarily before realizing he was fighting with himself.

_Be quiet_- he told it firmly, catching the needle between deft fingers and weaving it steadily in and out of the fabric. Maybe it was better if he finished quicker. The faster he was done, the less chance he would have of breaking down and giving into one of those strange thoughts he'd been having about Kuchiki-san.

"Hey, Uryu..."

He looked up too quickly, jabbing his thumb pad with the needle. He barely felt it, meeting Rukia's suddenly intense gaze. "Y-Yes?" Uryu frowned inwardly as his voice wobbled. The loss of composure was a sure sign of weakness. And that he could not show.

"..do you.." Rukia seemed to struggle, her brow creasing beneath the single dark bang that hung between her too-large violet eyes. "Like me?"

His stomach dropped. Here was the question he had been dreading, though what in his actions had prompted the Kuchiki girl to speak it, was beyond him. Uryu's mind ever analytical ran through his previous motions, trying to find the single thing that had lead her to ask such a question.

She stared at him, waiting for her answer.

Uryu felt his mouth go dry, wishing only then that he'd brought a glass of water for his own consumption from the kitchen. It was too late to rise and retrieve one now. Rukia was waiting and he had to answer. Setting her precious glove briefly down, Uryu pushed up the bridge of his glasses with one finger, his expression mild, "if I did not, then I wouldn't be fixing your glove now, would I?"

It seemed to him, that she colored a little, looking down at the rug beneath her feet, she muttered to it. "Yeah..guess you're right." Then, quite suddenly as on a day when the sun breaks out over a cloudy day, a smile broke out on her face. "So, is it done?"

For a moment, he was confused from her switch to serious to gleefully excited. _Like a child_. Uryu felt a rare smile stealing onto his face, one that lacked disdain. "Almost." He threw in a couple of last minute stitches for effect then produced the glove with a flourish.

As he had expected, she was thoroughly ecstatic, complimenting him on the neat, tiny stitches Uryu so prided himself on.

Her _thanks_ was enough, but as he walked her to the door, the red glove on her right hand; Rukia turned around, straining on the tips of her toes to plant a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks again...Uryu."

He caught a flash of the same mysterious smile, then the door opened and closed on her petite form.

Curious, almost tentatively, he touched the spot on his cheek where she had kissed him.

Uryu wasn't surprised to find his face warm and his heart fluttering - in a _not very Uryu-like way_.

Maybe... he did have a crush on Rukia Kuchiki.

-Fin-

AN: The timeframe of this, was anytime before Aizen and the Arrancar arc. Thanks for reading.

No flames.

Requests still accepted.

Please review ^-^


	34. How to pleasure a woman

AN: Wah! I was having trouble figuring out who had requested this~! (..sometime later) *-* and it's for **Kiero Pepsi**! Here you go, dear. :)

Rating: M

Requested Pairing: OrihimexRukia

Title: **How to pleasure a woman**

* * *

"'hime..."

"Yeah, Rukia?" The orangette reclined against the wall of the natural onsen, her gray eyes closed in enjoyment of the heat curling up around her body. "Have you ever..." the petite Shinigami sounded a little hesitant, Orihime murmured a little dreamily, "what?"

The water swished as the other moved closer.

"...fantasized about another woman?"

Immediately a blush graced Orihime's face. _She couldn't know-! _Large doe-like gray eyes took in the soft, almost shy look on the Shinigami's face. The healer nibbled at her full bottom lip, "...maybe. Oh, but, Kuchiki-san! Please-"

"Who?" Rukia asked perfunctorily, one hand curled above her hip.

Orihime discreetly slitted her eyes to the other girl's nude body. Tiny breasts so petite and delicate stood with firm pink nipples, rigid in the cool night air. Secretly, the orange-haired princess flicked her tongue over her suddenly parched lips, how long had she dreamed of kissing Kuchiki-san's breasts? Everyone thought she had a crush on Kurosaki-kun...but when the doll-like Shinigami had crashed into their lives; the princess's nights had been filled with erotic dreams of her.

"You." The whisper left her lips before she had even realized it. Frightened by her own admittance Orihime wished she could take it back. Then Rukia surprised her. "Oh, hime..." the look was tender within the violet orbs. "For how long?" the Shinigami moved closer. Orihime felt the graze of the slender thigh against her and fought down the impulse to arch into it. "..ever since I first saw you." The healer whispered as Rukia's small hand caressed her cheek. Her touch felt warm. Orihime leaned into it.

"Oh, hime..." their foreheads pressed together. "I've wanted you as well."

Orihime trembled at the low seductive quality her friend's voice had dropped to. She hardly dared believe it. _Kuchiki-san wanted her in the same way? Oh, it was like a dream come true!_ The princess had to focus, hear what her friend was still saying...

"-boys..." Rukia's look was knowing, "don't understand the delicateness of our womanly bodies. Only another woman can give true pleasure...know where to touch..."

Orihime gasped as the folds between her thighs were lightly stroked. "Ah! Aah-yes!" Then she clamped her lips shut afraid of being heard. Rukia smiled softly, "it's alright, 'hime. We're far enough in the estate so that no one will disturb us." Reassured by her friend's calm, rational tones, Orihime visibly relaxed. her petal pink lips parting, "..um, Kuchiki-san...could you please..um show me..what real pleasure is like."

"I would be delighted to." Whispered Rukia with a wicked smile.

The healer's thighs quivered with the slow, long flick of the index finger. Her legs spread as the Shinigami stroked the growing nub, soft pants escaped petal pink lips.

"Hah-ah-ah-aaah." Orihime blushed furiously realizing that the moans were hers. Rukia smiled, leaning to rest her head against the orangette's shoulder. "It's okay, 'hime. Just let it out..."

The curve of her _lips_ was traced, opening like a flower to the shinigami's gentle ministrations.

"Unh..uhn.." gray eyes rolled back with the entrance of more slim fingers petting her already heated core. "That's it.." Rukia's lashes fluttered against the sensitive skin of Orihime's collarbone, small butterfly kisses were lavished along her throat and décolletage slowly traveling down until the tops of Orihime's voluptuous breasts were worshipped.

Soon the shinigami's free hand was caressing the downy under of the soft mound, nails raking over the rigid bud made the healer's head fall back, her lips working in silent ecstasy. Rukia smirked at this reaction, unnoticed her mouth moved to take in the luscious pink nipple, her finger at the same time sliding up and down Orihime's clit.

The healer's body spasmed, her hips rolling forward to gain more contact. Rukia sucked greedily at her breast like a starving child, teeth scraping over the taut skin. Soon more fingers were added, scissoring in and out of her tight entrance.

Orihime could feel something building in the pit of her stomach, unimaginable pleasure rocketing throughout her heaving body, Rukia's lips lavished her breasts, swollen nipples vanishing into the warm confines of the Shinigami's mouth; she worked hard to make sure neither was neglected.

"Unh..uhn..uh..uhn..Ru-..Ruki.." Her mind was slipping. Rukia's delicate teeth were nipping playfully at her hard pink nubs, her hips writhed, bucking unmercifully. Orihime shut her eyes, moaning as Rukia bit down hard, fingers thrusting even faster.

She couldn't warn when it came. Her first orgasm came in a sweeping rush. Heat gushed out, slicking the water and her thighs, Orihime took in deep breaths, her body coming down from its high. Slowly she opened her eyes, gazing down into the smiling face of her.._beloved_.

Rukia was smiling-smirking, there was a glow to her damp cheeks and an unregenerate gleam in her eyes. "Wasn't that _pleasure_...my 'hime?"

Orihime giggled, blushing as the euphoric fabled after-sex sensation filled her entire being. But, she wasn't _spent_ yet. "Thanks, Rukia..." almost shyly, she reached for the other girl, the palm of her hand sliding against the apex of the Shinigami's crotch. Heat seeped steadily from the hidden fruit, Orihime's tongue flickered over her lips, the idea taking form in her mind as she leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against the other girl's sensitive lobe.

"..My turn."

-Finis-

AN: pure girl-on-girl smut. BTW, this is set during the time in the arrancar arc when Rukia and Orihime left to S.S to train. Requests still accepted.

No flames.

Please review :)


	35. The wrong way home

AN: I listened to **Within Me**-Lacuna Coil, **Until Tomorrow**- Paramore and **Until the day I die** -Story of the Year. If you can, have the songs set on low while reading this chapter. Total. Unconventional crack lies ahead as well as severe AU territory.

Title: The wrong way home

Rating: M (for torture)

Requested Pairing: TeslaxRukia

Summary: No one had ever shown him an ounce of kindness. In the harsh reality of Las Noches, one is driven by cruelty, the other by mercy. Captivity breaches the fine line of hate between them. In the end there is no home for either.

...

"Chad..." she knelt at the human's side, the wound to his torso was deep. Blood stained the sand crimson. He was near death; she was glad she had decided to go back rather than continue on down the path she had chosen out of the five. "But whom or what..." Rukia murmured to herself, laying her hands over the jagged gash, "...did he fight?"

The grains of sand shifted, settled beneath the step of someone behind her.

Rukia slowly turned, her eyes widening.

"Do you mean...me?" Nnoitora cackled before bringing his double-bladed weapon across her body.

...

"You disgust me!" The tiny, insignificant creature snarled.

"Do I, pet?" Nnoitora sneered, his long oval face derisive, mocking. The Soul Reaper ground her teeth, flailing about, the white bandages about her torso were steadily turning a dull crimson color.

"Nnoitora, I really must protest." The Octava fretted, staring at his superior Espada from over the hospital bed with a hopeless, pleading expression. Tesla chose this moment to approach, his tone condescending, a reminder for the elder Espada to remember his place.

"Lord Aizen has given charge of Kuchiki Rukia to my master."

"Yes, but-!"

The woman began coughing, spitting up blood.

"-Whether or not Kuchiki Rukia has recovered from the wounds dealt by my Master is of no consequence." Tesla spared the pitiful creature a dismissive glance. Szayel stared from Espada to Fraccion, his brilliant mind unable to come up with an exact argument why taking such a fragile specimen so wounded, would be detrimental to anything, except for _her_ life.

He shrugged, "take her then. Out of my hands..." the scientist started humming an off key tune, "now really get out of my sight if you please. You've already held me up long enough...I must be getting back to that intriguing specimen of a Quincy..."

Dismissal evident, Tesla turned his gaze around to Nnoitora's taller frame, "shall we be going, Mas-"

"Here! Carry it! This pet isn't even worth my time!" Nnoitora spat, his onyx eye slitting as the woman gave one last sputtering cough, blood flecking her front and dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Tesla barely caught her sagging form, distaste in his thoughts as he beheld her pale face, her expression an agony of unconscious torment. He wondered why their Lord had given the task to his Master when Kuchiki Rukia seemed no more than an insignificant insect.

Nnoitora had started out already, his long strides carrying him far from Szayel's maze-like palace. Tesla struggled to keep up, dragging the woman by the ankles, undesirous of any more contact than that with his gloved hands and her body. Until that is, Nnoitora turned around and snapped, "don't wanna break her before Aizen's done something to her.." a sadistic gleam glowed in the Quinta's expression. "Maybe torture 'er for information.." A fiendish look came onto Nnoitora's face, forgotten, Tesla stared after his master with admiration.

"Yes, Master Nnoitora." He murmured, obeying though his body cringed as the Soul Reaper's dead weight settled in his arms. Szayel had left her in the torn white under-robe, the bandages beneath had long been soaked through. Tesla ignored the dampness of the cloth, carrying the woman bridal-style as he followed Nnoitora at a distance.

Just before entering the palace reserved for the Quinta Espada, Nnoitora called over his shoulder, "take care of the pet, will ya."

"Of course, Master Nnoitora." Tesla responded, his face betraying none of the anger he felt at the menial task bestowed upon him. Distantly a door closed further in the palace. Alone in the long high-ceilinged corridor, his single eye turned down to the woman he held in his arms.

"The moment you become a nuisance to my Master, is when I will end you, Soul Reaper." he promised, knowing how easy it would be to slip a hand around her slender throat and snap it cleanly apart. _How much he would enjoy it_.

...

The room was circular, large. Farthest from his Master's private chambers, Tesla entered the echoing room, his gaze drawn at first to the shaft of light cutting across the gloom from the single window then withdrawing with a quiet sigh to the wire cage built from the ceiling down, an immense thing of sekki-seki interlaid wires and a specially treated epoxy designed by Szayel, to break down the woman's spiritual powers.

"Awake now?" he queried, stepping closer. The woman's head slowly turned at the sound of his boots clicking precisely across the floor. Her focus was bleary at first then sharpened as she took in his face.

"You-!" she flew up instantly, scrabbling back like a trapped animal. _Which she was_, he thought, momentarily enjoying the terror in her eyes. It quickly changed to anger, something he hadn't expected. Within seconds the woman had launched herself at the wire wall, shrieking at him.

"How dare you-"

He cut her off, finding her voice irritating. "Lord Aizen has deigned to spare your life, worthless worm. I believe that action alone requires you to grovel at his feet in appreciation."

"Teme." She spat with as much venom as she possibly could. Her violet eyes smoldered with impotent hate the longer she gazed at him. Tesla sensed the task wasn't going to be as easy as thought.

"Attempt escape and I will dispatch you myself." He murmured, keeping his eye fixated on her face. The woman paled, _a good sign_, he assumed at first. Until her saliva splotched his cheek. Little expression clouded his face as he wiped it off, the woman's defiance was starting to grate on him. He hadn't expected this much spirit to remain, the Cuatro had broken in the Inoue woman easy enough, so why did this one-

"Where are my friends?"

She had withdrawn into a corner, the farthest, a small bundle of dirty white and fierce violet eyes shining in the shadows. He heard the softer, quieter note in her tone. He thought it suited her better than such uncouth yelling.

"It is...not my place to say." He stood, observing after another moment. "Hueco Mundo is your prison now. There are no friends, no comrades here. Only death and loneliness."

She snorted yet said nothing.

"Accept it." Tesla stalked away, meaning to bring in the tray waiting in the small hallway outside the cell. Her quiet voice stopped him.

"I won't."

Her defiance struck a chord deep within the Arrancar.

Anger confused the sensation.

He let the door close without another word, in the hallway the servant looked to him for instruction. Tesla decided the woman would starve that night for her impudence.

"Take it back."

...

She had gone longer without food.

_Two days_.

The shallow dish of water sat in the shadows cast by the fine webbing of the wires. Rukia lied on her side, staring out at the rest of the room. From there, she could glimpse a sliver of light from the illusive moon but never grasp it in her hand. Like freedom, the moon's light taunted her by being just out of reach.

Her mind in its semi-relaxed state dwelled on many things. None the least, wondering about her friends. _Had they made it? Was anyone even still alive? _It frustrated her to no end, to be in the dark. From inside the cage, she couldn't sense a thing beyond the small confines.

_"...no friends, no comrades here. Only death and loneliness."_

The voice of the Arrancar floated through her mind.

Rukia pushed herself up, wincing sharply from the abrupt motion. Because of the sealant on her powers, her wounds weren't healing as fast as they should've been. Growling to herself under her breath, she swiped in anger at the bowl, sloshing its contents across the floor of the room.

"I see you wish for water as well to be taken from you."

Her body jerked around, recognizing the voice and the face of the blond-haired Arrancar. His morose expression loomed from the darkness, the spot of black the eye-patch over one eye. His gaze was disconcertingly sharp as it wandered around the large room.

"Your wounds bother you as well."

Her eyes followed his white-clad form as he slowly walked across; she curled one arm protectively around her middle.

"Yeah? What's it to you, monster?" Rukia glared fiercely as though their positions were reversed, she the one with power and he the helpless captive.

"Nothing." Then as he stood beside the door of the cage, gazing down, seemingly lost in thought, his expression altered suddenly. Hardening subtly. "Know this, Kuchiki Rukia, your body whether living or decimated, is of no concern to my Lord Aizen. It is by his whim alone that you live now."

"What about-" here was her chance. Or so she thought.

"I've explained this prior. Is your intelligence so limited as to not understand a simple sentence?"

She wanted to run him through with her beautiful sword for daring to insult her and the Kuchiki name. Lacking however her Sode no Shirayuki, Rukia sufficed an icy glare, "you bastard."

"I am your jailor in this world. Accept it, Kuchiki Rukia." he intoned, unaffected.

A smirk she barely felt, curved her lips. "Oh? And what is your name? You know mine but I do not know yours."

A flicker of surprise passed over his face. After another beat, it was gone, smoothed over into the same unreadable lines. He pressed an arm to his breast, slightly inclining his head to her, "forgive my negligence."

She stared at him openly now. _Was he making fun of her?_

"I am called Tesla, and I am the sole Fraccion of the Quinta Espada, Nnoitora Gilga."

...

Two days.

His Master did not know of the carts sent back.

She was being punished.

Tesla laid his hand upon the panel, it slid away at his touch. Inside a deeper darkness emanated forth, only a sliver of moonlight pierced it. He stepped inside, his eye immediately searching out the white-clad form lying in the middle of the cage.

Briefly he wondered if she had perished.

But, he rescinded the thought when in a sudden violent motion, the white lump shot up, her torso ramrod straight only to crumple in on itself in spasms of pain. For moments he watched the woman's silent agony then as the pain seemed to fade, she struck out in a sweeping motion. A sharp clatter pierced the silence as the bowl of water spilled its contents, the bowl itself shattering against the walls of the cage.

"I see you wish for water as well to be taken from you." Tesla chose this moment to make himself known. The woman twisted around, shock bleeding her face pale, _pallid_- he thought. _Like the corpse of someone long dead_.

The woman's glower was distorted by unease. Tesla knew she wondered how long he had stood there in the darkness. He could sense her eyes on him, as he approached, taking care to avoid the broken fragments of crockery.

"Your wounds bother you as well." Momentarily he contemplated sending for a medic; the woman would be no use to their Lord if she were to pass from her injuries. Protective like an animal, she cradled an arm against her stomach, dark circles like bruises standing out against her milk-white skin.

"Yeah? What's it to you, monster?" her defiance flared.

Tesla hadn't expected it in her wretched state. The woman's insolence astounded him yet again. "Nothing." Then, because some twisted thing inside wished to break her proud spirit, make her beg and grovel for her life; he went on colder. "Know this, Kuchiki Rukia, your body whether living or decimated, is of no concern to my Lord Aizen. It is by his whim alone that you live now."

She wasn't listening anymore. "What about-"

_Her friends_. The woman's persistence was aggravating. _As was her utter lack of concern for her life_, such selflessness confused the Arrancar. "I've explained this prior. Is your intelligence so limited as to not understand a simple sentence?" Stupidity seemed the only explanation left. The woman's face became a hardened mask, sheer anger radiating from it. "You bastard.." she hissed.

He had borne the brunt of another's anger before; hers could not harm him. It was her despair he longed to see, to revel in the knowledge he had caused it. Locking eyes with the woman yet again, he spoke calmly. "I am your jailor in this world. Accept it, Kuchiki Rukia."

_Yes...Master Nnoitora had given the task to him alone_.

A faint smirk curved her mouth. "Oh? And what is your name? You know mine but I do not know yours."

He realized with her words, that it was true.

_That could not be_, he knew he had to correct her.

She had to know the name she was to _fear_.

"Forgive my negligence." Tesla lightly touched his breast, dipping his head in respect in the Arrancar manner. "I am called Tesla, and I am the sole Fraccion of the Quinta Espada, Nnoitora Gilga."

...

_Five days_.

Her lips were cracked, swollen.

As he had promised, the water had not been replaced.

Still won't give in- There was another form in the darkness, tall, slender.

Just leave me alone. The mental war existed only in her mind, for he never said a word.

Rukia could feel him there even when consciousness faded.

...

"Has the pet healed sufficiently?"

Tesla knew she had been aware of his presence the last time he had looked in on the caged room. They walked up the hallways of Las Noches, Nnoitora's longer stride never faltered. Tesla admired the figure his Master cut in battle, images of past victories on the dunes of the desert world replacing the image of the woman momentarily.

"I assume so, sir."

"Assume?" A dangerous note had come into Nnoitora's tone, scathing.

His last injuries had healed fully, he did not wish to have his ribs kicked in again. "Forgive my lack of clarification. The woman lies simply in one place, sir. It is hard therefore for me to discern her state of physical condition."

Nnoitora merely grunted at this, "Aizen'll want to see her soon. Make sure her condition remains stable."

"Yes, sir." He bowed though his master didn't see.

...

She faded in and out of consciousness.

She had ceased to recall the number of days had passed, surely by now Soul Society knew of their failed mission, the fate of the rest of her friends still unknown to even her.

_Would that things had been different_.

Had she kept on her original path and never strayed from it.

_Maybe_... Rukia dreamed with longing.

_She would be home now_.

...

_Seven days_.

Tesla knew of the exact number, careful in inserting the key into the lock. The wires of the door synchronized to the wavelength of the pattern on the key, released. He waited for any sign of motion from the woman, the servant he had brought, waited on the other side while he entered.

"Kuchiki Rukia."

She lay on her stomach, her hair lank and dirty splayed over her back and shoulders. The scent of decaying blood reached his nostrils, "Kuchiki Rukia, awaken." He loathed extending his hand to touch her, yet did so when his calls gained no response. Through the glove, her shoulder was thin, painfully so. His original assumption of demise hovered at the fringes of his mind. Sweat broke out on his brow.

He turned her over.

Her robe was crusty with dull rust-colored blood. The accusing eyes were sealed shut, a faint grimace making it seem as though her dreams were anything but pleasant. Slowly, he hooked a finger around the strands of hair caught between her cracked lips, tugging it free. The woman looked so fragile now that the fire had died out.

His hand trailed down from her face to the v of her collar.

Her skin was cold.

He laid his hand down on her breast, pressing down against the incline to feel the faintest flutter.

She lived.

The sensation was stronger now. Tesla likened it to the same sensation that washed over him, when after a long battle Master Nnoitora returned unharmed, victory none the least in his grasp. Tesla didn't understand how the woman and his Master were comparable.

_They were not_.

He slipped an arm about her shoulders and one under her knees, lifting her up completely until her head rested against his chest. She weighed nothing. Briefly he recollected this was the second time he had carried her the same way. _Strange how it did not disturb him_-

Blood droplets spattered the floor in a rain of gore.

Tesla felt the reiatsu at his back even before he knew the body of the servant had been torn in two.

"What is this, Tesla?" Nnoitora's voice was barely above a soft purr. "Did I not explicitly command the pet's life was in your hands!"

"Master Nnoi-"

Nnoitora didn't allow him to finish.

...

Grunts.

Rukia's world was a world of dark, towering shadows and breathless grunts of pain.

The sound of soft flesh being beaten mercilessly, each strike a hammer into her heart.

_Where am I_ -

The floor bit unmercifully into her back, her head tipped up, revealed to her blurry eyes a taller bowl-shaped male towering over another on their knees.

Her eyes squinted, she couldn't see.

"You. Let. The. Pet. Die."

Each word was punctuated by a vicious blow to the smaller form.

She didn't understand.

The smaller form gagged, falling forward at the other's feet, a shaft of elusive moonlight spilled across a ripped black glove, a torn white sleeve stained a darker color to the jagged ends of pale blond hair and the face she barely recognized, beaten to a bloody, smashed pulp.

"..orry. ...Mast..er..Nnoi.." Tesla reached out for the Espada, pleading in a thick, choked voice.

It was a sickening display of servility.

Disgust for the Fraccion arose along with deep pity.

Nnoitora's long oval face turned down to regard his servant, a sneer on his razor thin lips. "Sorry, Tesla?" The Fraccion's fingers had curled weakly around the curved tip of the Quinta's sandal. Tesla nodded jerkily.

For moments neither moved.

Then, Nnoitora smirked suddenly, ripping his foot away from Tesla's grasp. "Then, pay with your life."

His screams tore deeply into her soul.

"Sto.." her throat rasped, shards cut as she attempted to speak. "St-t-t..op. "

No one heard.

Tears leaked from her aching eyes.

Sheer will forced her to move. Crawling on her belly, little silent cries left her bleeding mouth as she inched out of the cage. "I'm..."

Nnoitora kicked Tesla in the face, repeatedly.

_Stop please_. She felt no vindication in her tormenter being beaten to death. _Stop please_.

Tesla's body skittered away across the floor.

Rukia crawled through his blood, smearing fresh gory trails over the old. Her blood-encrusted nails clawed at the floor, creeping toward the Quinta's heel.

"I..I..."

It hurt so much.

Tesla was sideways, breathing soft blood bubbles from his shattered face.

Rukia summoned the last ounce of her strength to grasp Nnoitora's heel. "Alive." she croaked out, her desperate hold loosening. She saw nothing more after her fading gaze closed on Tesla's single eye staring straight at her.

_No one...no one should suffer as you do_, she thought, her eyes closing to the painful luminescence of the moonlight.

"..kia." The Fraccion whispered.

...

"Fix 'er, pet."

"Oh! Rukia!"

Voices.

Nnoitora's, this recollection came with a violent shudder. She had not forgotten Tesla's broken face.

And Orihime's.

She struggled out of the waves of warm darkness to see her friend's kindly face.

Briefly.

A hazy golden shield and the bowed coppery head she knew so well.

"_Orihime_."

Rukia lost consciousness again.

...

She awoke inside the cage.

"Orihime!" Starting up, the cry burst from her lips, her hand flung the covers back.

"Your friend has gone back to the Cuatro's care."

_That voice_.. Rukia conscious of the plain clean robe she was garbed in, clutched the sides closed, her head turning in the direction where the voice came from.

"You."

Tesla leaned against the wall near the window. She saw the floor had been scrubbed clean, no trace remaining of the savagery that had gone on there. The Arrancar himself wore a spotless uniform, immaculate save for the bruising and blackness circling his good eye.

Rukia stared at him, her small hands fisting in the fabric of the robe. "Are you alright? Does it hurt anywhere?" she blurted out, tactless as always. He blinked slowly as if not understanding. Rukia waited, attempting patience as he simply looked at her.

When he finally spoke, it was not what she expected. "Understand, Kuchiki Rukia, I would never have done the same for you."

A tiny spark flared in her insides. She remembered his servile groveling to the monstrous Quinta, shuddering yet her voice remained steady. "I didn't expect you to. In fact," she matched his cool gaze. "Don't even feel like you owe me anything. I still think you're a vile creature like all-"

"Then, _why?" _

His confusion was evident to her, as was some inner torment playing out over his features.

_What does he_- Rukia struggled internally as the Arrancar's discomfiture became more obvious.

Then, suddenly, it all made sense.

"Because..." Rukia said with a slight shrug. "I couldn't bear to watch you suffer."

...

The door closed with a gentle snap.

Tesla leaned against it, his gaze straight ahead, unseeing.

"Because you couldn't bear to see me...suffer?" he questioned the emptiness around him. His pale brow furrowed, _this was unacceptable. _

"Even though, I, I am your enemy?"

_This was...so like her_.

...

He returned in six hours bringing the dinner cart.

Rukia lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling lost in thought. She didn't even know he was there, until the wheels squeaked passing through the threshold. Again, she wondered to herself, _how long had he been standing there?_

She was always glad of the fact that he didn't stay.

It was unnerving to be watched while one ate.

Rukia was no fool, she knew that to survive, she needed to build up her strength. Contrariness to Nnoitora's orders, would only be foolhardy at this moment. The tray was slid through the slot, Rukia studied the contents. The same bowl of rice, cutlets of fish and sweet sauce. A pair of chopsticks rested on the folded white napkin.

She picked them up, momentarily closing her eyes. "Itadakimasu." When her eyes opened, she was surprised to find the customary snap of the door had not followed the squeak of the cart leaving, pushed by a nameless Arrancar servant. Instead, Tesla remained, taking up his usual spot across the room, against the wall.

They looked at each other.

She dismayed.

He impassive.

Rukia broke the staring contest first. Fine. See if she'd let him bother her! She scowled down at her bowl, picking up a few grains of the sticky rice. Determinedly chewing and swallowing.

After another minute, her patience broke. "Finally see something of interest?" she snapped, knowing her tone was rude but not caring. Tesla shook his head slowly from side to side, much to her surprise.

"No. I... merely wonder at the duality of a Soul Reaper."

"Are you calling me a hypocrite?" she set down the chopsticks.

"One who lives in hypocrisy perhaps." He assented never mincing words.

Rukia despised and yet at the same time also admired his candor. Even though she was angered by the manner in which he presumed to understand her. "I have my own reasons." she said haughtily as though that ended the matter. To put her point across, she scooted the tray to the side and turned around, putting her back to him, then deliberately picked up the bowl and begun eating.

Silence filled the room.

She almost hoped he had left, stolen out without a sound.

That hope was dashed.

"I see you are childish as well."

She glowered at the wall long after he had gone with the tray, irritated.

_What kind of observation was that?_

...

He had a new bruise and a split lip. There was also a limp in his step that she noticed.

"Why do you serve him?" The bowl was in her hand, untouched.

"That is like asking why do you Soul Reapers live as you do."

"That's no comparison!" she snapped, turning slightly to send a glower over her shoulder. _Commanding officers in Seireitei did not issue corporal punishment anymore for disobedience_.

"Then, perhaps explain what is your reason for existing?"

"My reason for-" she muttered, realization cleaving the words to her tongue. "So...so, you choose to live this way?" _And be beaten at the slightest infraction?_

"It's all I know." Tesla said solemnly. Rukia detected something else in his somber tone, something that saddened her. "I exist to serve Master Nnoitora. He is my reason for being."

...

"Tomorrow, Aizen will reveal the function the pet will serve- hey, are you listening to me, Tesla?"

"Yes, sir." A single round chair piled high with white cushions dominated the room, Nnoitora reclined in it, one thin hand propping his razor sharp chin. Tesla stood beside the door, his arms folded behind his back. "You said Lord Aizen will explain the reason for Kuchiki Rukia's continued existence tomorrow."

Nnoitora grunted softly, "hn. Yeah I suppose the ruse might be for her to bear a weapon against the other dogs of Soul Society."

Tesla's expression didn't change, "she will not do it."

He was favored with an air of suspicion. "And how do you presume to understand the mind of the enemy?"

"She will _not_." Tesla maintained, hardly bothered by Nnoitora's increasing distrust. A slight darkening of his features preceded his last sentence. "She would rather die than betray those whom she calls _friends_. Excuse me, I must go now to attend to the prisoner."

He left then with a slight bow, leaving Nnoitora to ponder his words.

...

There was a dress pushed through the slot with a pair of black socks and plain sandals.

"What's this?"

"Your uniform," he said, straightening from the crouch at the wall of the cage. Rukia had drawn the garment closer, but stopped from unfolding it at his words.

"I already told you! I-"

"You will be going before Lord Aizen soon." Tesla wouldn't look at her as he said it. She noticed the difference, making a face down at the clothing.

"That traitor.." she had never forgotten even for an instant what Aizen's betrayal of all of Soul Society had done, the lives it had wrecked. At the mere thought of being paraded before him, she was sickened, flinging the garment away with a sneer of disgust.

"No."

"Wear them." _Her obstinacy was tiring_.

"No." She leveled her gaze on him. "I _refuse_."

He sighed, withdrawing the special key from a pocket in his tunic. "Then. I will dress you myself."

"You wouldn't..." she saw the motions he was preparing to make, the key sliding in the lock; her hand hurriedly shot out, yanking the garment to her body. Her eyes were wide when he stopped, sighing. The Arrancar and the Soul Reaper stared at one another.

"Well, aren't you going to leave?" Rukia demanded, appalled that color had risen to her cheeks, they burned even after he had sent her another look. _Amused_, her mind whispered, but had turned around, placing his back to her.

She scowled at the way she had been forced, but wisely kept her words to herself. Discarding the plain robe with a casual toss of the hand, then letting the folds of the dress cascade over her head as she pulled it over. In the space of the few seconds while she fumbled with strands of her hair caught in the collar, her sight obscured by the white garment; she wondered if he looked.

_Glanced_.

Haste made her fingers slip. With an irritated sigh, she yanked it down, glaring suspiciously at his form standing stationary just beyond the framework of fine wires.

"I hate you." She said impulsively. The dress had full, princess sleeves and a simple flowing skirt that fell from below the gathered bust-line. The only piece that remained aberrant, was a thong of black unfastened that went around her throat like a collar. It was the only touch of black, for the dress was white.

"More than you despise my Lord Aizen?"

He was always surprising her. Saying things she would never expect an Arrancar to know or care. "No." she answered after a moment, balancing herself on one foot, while tugging one of the socks up on the other. "Aizen desires to destroy my world, you are only one of many of his pawns. The blame does not fall solely on your shoulders."

"I see."

Silence lapsed. Finishing the socks, she slipped the sandals on. They fit tightly, pinching her toes. Rukia tried to ignore the pain, rocking slightly on her heels to get used to wearing shoes again.

"The dress."

She looked at his back curiously.

"It suits you." Tesla finished quietly.

...

Aizen was a bastard.

He truly thought he was God.

Rukia had never seen more of Las Noches, before being taken through it. Tesla stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, leading her forward through innumerable hallways. Nnoitora strode ahead, leaving them behind more than once.

She assumed that was the Quinta's way of showing they were inferior beings to him. _Bastard_. Her dark thoughts were interrupted when after a final turn, two large double doors came into sight. Nnoitora had stopped beside them.

"Took ya long enough." He complained, glaring at her.

Rukia's eyes narrowed, but she swallowed her retort, eyeing him haughtily, "well? Aren't you going to announce us?"

Nnoitora sucked his teeth.

She knew she was safe for the moment from any violent outburst from the Espada. The Quinta wouldn't dare risk incurring Aizen's displeasure if she were bruised black and blue. Nnoitora gave her one last dagger-filled look, then called loudly, "I've brought Kuchiki Rukia, as ordered."

Some silent signal must've been passed on.

Nnoitora stepped forward, pushing one side of the large doors open. Rukia watched the inner darkness of the room spill outward, her trepidation mounting though she attempted to put on a brave face. _She wouldn't let Aizen see how frightened she was_.

Tesla urged her forward.

_One word. Just one word and_..._Aizen could set Nnoitora upon her_.

"Ms. Kuchiki, how nice of you to join us."

She could barely see anything as they advanced toward the center of the room. The ex Captain's voice seemed to echo from all around. Behind, the shaft of light from the hallway vanished, Rukia had a sickening feeling she was trapped.

Fighting off panic, she suddenly discerned a huge white pillar rising from the darkness to a great height. There was a chair at its top and the sitter was a large man with curling dark brown hair and even colder eyes. Rukia recognized his face immediately.

"Aizen." she murmured, her every instinct screaming at her to fight.

Tesla's hands kept her from moving, "Lord Aizen to you." he reminded in a soft hiss. She resented him bitterly at that moment, choosing to twist free from his grasp. Nnoitora made a motion to step after her, but Aizen held his hand up.

"Let her."

She glared, stopping a few paces from her original position. "What is it you want from me?" she crossed her arms over her chest to steel herself. Tesla's presence behind her had acted as some kind of bulwark as ridiculous as it seemed. She felt cold without it, and...she could feel Aizen's immense reiatsu threatening to drive her down.

"Not many things, Ms. Kuchiki. I believe distraction describes your position best."

Her brow furrowed, "what the hell are you talking about?"

"It's a simple task." Aizen seemed to think of something else, as he smiled down at her benevolently, "ah tell me, Ms. Kuchiki. Do you have many friends? People whom know you and..." the pleasant smile didn't extend to his eyes, they gleamed with a cold and calculating light. "_Trust you?"_

Her skin crawled, bravely she stared up at him, defiance in her stance. "Why would I tell you anything?"

Aizen froze her with a single look, "the correct answer is yes, Ms. Kuchiki. There are those whom trust you implicitly. Trust you with a sword in your hand and their backs to you. Trust you enough so as to...lead them to their deaths."

The realization hit her in waves, for moments she was stunned beyond comprehension.. then the anger came. "I would never betray my friends! I would rather die than do something so monstrously evil!"

"No?"Aizen motioned to Nnoitora, smiling still. "Perhaps some persuasion is in order."

She didn't even hear the sword being drawn.

"Master Nnoitora?"

She spun toward the sound of Tesla's raised voice, seeing the blade bite into the white collar, a thin red line appeared. Nnoitora held his unreleased Zanpaku-to against his Fraccion's throat.

"Beg, Tesla. See how much a Soul Reaper cares..._beg!"_ The maniacal gleam of bloodlust glowed within Nnoitora's onyx eye, his bared teeth grinned asininely.

Aizen's reiatsu bore down on her, rooting her to the spot.

The Arrancar and the Soul Reaper stared at one another.

Rukia could barely breathe. _Don't make me-don't say_-

"No." Tesla said quietly, his eye closing. Nnoitora sliced through him mercilessly. Rukia let out a choked scream, her hands flying to her mouth. Aizen looked upon the whole proceedings with mild boredom.

"Now, Ms. Kuchiki, let that serve as an example. I doubt you would wish for the same thing to happen to a beloved friend."

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the spreading pool of crimson forming beneath the blond Arrancar's body. Until that is, a muffled cry echoed from the darkness, and two figures stepped forward. One, a smaller black-haired Arrancar with a partially broken bone helmet and apathetic disinterest on his face. The second figure had her hands bound before her with heavy chains, a black gag was fitted over her mouth, tears glistened in Orihime's eyes.

"Ori..Orihime!" Rukia started forward.

Aizen smirked, elevating his reiatsu.

She couldn't move once again

"That's better, Ms. Kuchiki. Such selfishness is to be expected of a Soul Reaper. You wouldn't stay Nnoitora's blade, but for a friend..." Aizen trailed off delicately.

"That..." she began, forcing the word from her constricting throat. _That's not_...

The Arrancar - Ulquiorra, drew the sword from the scabbard at his waist. Stalking around Orihime's cowering form, he leveled the blade midway across her torso, waiting for further command.

"My loyal Cuatro will gut sweet Ms. Inoue before your eyes...if you do not acquiesce and give your word."

Ulquiorra brought the blade back, a severe elegance to the cut it would inflict. _Not enough to kill, but enough to devastate a human's fragile body_. Rukia watched, paralyzed with mind-numbing horror.

"Just one word of agreement." Aizen said, leaning back as if he had all the time in the world to wait for her answer. "And Ms. Inoue's life will be spared."

She started to shake her head.

The blade swung back then forward, whistling piercingly.

Images of Orihime cut to pieces filled her mind. She shut her eyes tightly, "I.. I will!"

Silence fell.

The pressure released. Her eyes opened. Ulquiorra had sheathed his blade and stood beside Orihime, hands in pockets. Orihime herself wept the tears Rukia couldn't; she knew of her own part in condemning them both as traitors.

Rukia forced herself to look away, to turn up to the false God. His smugness sickened her. Yet she still spoke, lips trembling. "There is one other thing.." she could barely believe she was asking, wanting the remains of the pitiful Arrancar blinded by intense loyalty.

Aizen appeared to listen with indulgent benevolence. "Yes? Go on."

"May I have..Tesla?"

Aizen's smile dipped, subtle confusion momentarily clouded his expression. He had not expected that. "I don't see...why not." The smile returned. "Nnoitora?"

The Quinta snorted, kicking the limp form on the floor with less violence. "Worthless Fraccion is dead to me." He sneered suddenly, "you can have his _remains_, Pet. Be my guest."

She scowled at him, moving across the floor toward them. With one last hard-eyed stare, she dropped down to a crouch, suddenly hesitant. She had never deliberately touched the Arrancar before, this was..._the first time_.

His hair was soft.

She hadn't thought it would be. "Unchain Orihime, please."

Aizen gave the order.

Within seconds it seemed, Orihime's ungainly footsteps were clattering across the room. Breathless, the human girl dropped down, "I'm so sorry! Ru-"

"Don't." _What's done was done_. Rukia had with effort, turned him over. The gash was deep across his torso, the white uniform stained an unforgiving crimson. Tesla's expression was composed, resigned. _Resigned to live and die a second time for his master_.

Her fingers folded, brushing a feather light caress to the rise of his cheekbone.

Rukia hated Nnoitora more then.

"Heal him."

Orihime's large grey eyes searched her face, "Rukia..."

"Heal him." She repeated, rising, keeping her emotions tightly under control while Aizen watched.

"A-Alright." Orihime watched as well, curiosity, suspicion all brimming beneath the surface. She touched her hairclips slowly, "Soten Kisshun..."

Rukia backed up, unable to take her eyes off of the Arrancar as the golden shield formed over his body. Her eyes closed, she forced herself to turn the other way. Coldness in her tone, "take me to my room."

...

They gave her a different room hidden behind a sliding wall.

The window was barred like the cell, but an overhead light illuminated the confines easily. A large almost shapeless sofa was against one wall while a small round table was in the center. A rug was on the floor in geomantic black and white shapes. Nnoitora shoved her almost rudely in, Rukia shot him a dirty look over her shoulder.

"So, I guess that makes us comrades, eh, pet?"

"Go to Hell." she snapped, her glare sweeping the room's interior.

Nnoitora laughed obscenely, "Hell? We are already in it! Get used to it!"

He cackled as the door closed and sealed up, silence at last fell.

Rukia stared around her new quarters, then finally to the elusive moon she could see hanging in the sky and dropped her face into her hands.

...

Tesla awoke.

The Inoue woman's face came into focus, the glow from her shield dissipating.

_What was this...why was he_...

"Get up, Tesla." Nnoitora commanded.

He did, the Inoue woman backed away into the Cuatro's shadow.

The Soul Reaper wasn't among them.

Nnoitora stood apart, thin arms crossed. "Be thankful."

Tesla realized it had become very obvious to those present, he was searching for her.

"The pet saved you. You're hers now."

His eye widened.

_What?_

...

"Why?"

"Why do you keep asking that?"

At last he grew silent.

Rukia sat, her full skirts spread out over her folded legs. She hadn't moved since Nnoitora had left her. Tesla stood across the room, against the wall near the door.

"So, it was mercy then."

"I thought I told you to shut up!"

The quiet began to grate on her ears. Moodily staring straight ahead, she said, "tell me something about your-" not life, she recalled just in time. "Existence prior to Las Noches." she finished.

"Is that your first command?"

_What was it with him and orders? _ "No." Rukia muttered, "my first was to tell you to be quiet. And now I want you to talk." she paused, thinking of something, her gaze tilted his way so she could catch his fleeting expression when she said it. "that jackal Nnoitora rarely let you speak."

Tesla hesitated now. "Master Nnoitora is great. He is correct in the assumption that my opinions are meaningless."

"They are not!" she immediately snapped, turning fully to look at him. He flinched visibly at her raised tone. Rukia frowned, disliking the flavor of her own pity. "Talk please. Simply tell me all that you remember prior to becoming an Arrancar."

Tesla glanced at her then took a shallow breath like a sigh.

He told her all that he knew.

...

He had never talked so long.

Nor heard the sound of his voice for any lengthy period of time.

Tesla was surprised to find his throat mildly sore when he had finished. The woman had changed positions once, lying flat on her stomach now, her head tilted sideways on the cushion. Once or twice she had interrupted his narrative with a question which he answered to the best of his ability. For the whole of it, she had lapsed into silence, listening.

He had never thought much could be derived from a one-sided conversation yet discovered he felt different, lighter somehow after simple verbalization. After a few minutes silence, he recalled quite suddenly, his negligence.

"Time has passed. I shall go immediately and have a tray prepared for-"

"Don't bother."

He stopped, "do you not require sustenance?"

"I'm not hungry." she mumbled, a shffting sound as her legs folded, the skirt rustling. "You've been standing there for so long...why not come and sit down?"

_Did she not understand? _The Soul Reaper's ignorance astounded him yet again. "I cannot."

"I asked you to sit down-"

"I cannot." Tesla repeated stolidly.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because. I am inferior to you. Our status does not permit me to allow myself respite in your presence. I must always be ready-" _...to defend you._

She made a face. "Just sit down."

He sensed she wouldn't relent. Kuchiki Rukia's obstinacy was something he had taken note of her before, sometimes aggravating though it was. Tesla sighed, crossing the room slowly, each motion a conscious effort not to keep the proper distance between superior and subordinate.

He sat the farthest away as possible, on the opposite end.

After a long moment of silence, the woman tilted her chin up, her look slightly smug, "see? Isn't that better?"

"I did as you commanded, there is no further need for explanation of my comfort."

_He would never say it was_.

...

They hadn't returned her Zanpaku-to.

Aizen didn't trust her.

No one did, not even Orihime anymore.

Rukia twirled the Shinai she had requested to practice with. The small table had been moved to one side, while she stood in the center, clasping the wooden sword the way she been taught.

_One step._

_To the side._

_Sweep._

_Cross blades._

_Whirl_.

Her uniform had changed. Consisting of plain white hakama and a sleeveless tunic. The collar was high descending into a slight v at the chest. A small clip with a white quartz flower had been left atop the clothing when she'd found it after she had woken up. _From Tesla_, she supposed, curious about the clip.

It wasn't the finest thing she had ever been given, gifts from Byakuya had always been elegant, tasteful articles as befitting her status as his adopted sister. But, she still smiled as she pinned back her hair.

_Spin. Low strike_.

The opponent in her mind's eye, _parried_.

Rukia closed her eyes, _remember no-mindedness_.

She spun about facing the rest of the room, her shinai stabbed the air, coming to rest inches above Tesla's face. He had entered silently and had approached. Remarking now.

"I see you are proficient with a sword."

She opened her eyes, locking gazes with him for a second, she smiled faintly. "To a certain extent." She switched hands, holding the tip down to show non-aggression meant. "How is Orihime?"

A shadow fell over his face. "I believe the Inoue woman is in healthful spirits."

Rukia didn't miss the pall, wondering at it. _Was there something else perhaps that he wasn't telling her?_ "Is there anything else?" she queried, moving across the room to lay the shinai down and take up the glass of water resting on the table. Tesla had turned slightly in a circle to keep her with in his sights.

"Only one. Lord Aizen wishes to extend to you the right to use our training grounds if you so desire."

The offer was fairly generous, a chance to be out of bounds of the locked room was tempting but Rukia didn't want to associate with any more Arrancars than was necessary. _If they were all in Nnoitora's cast_...

"No, I'm-"

"You would be permitted limited use of your Zanpaku-to."

Rukia stopped, the glass was partially raised to her lips. _To hold Sode no Shirayuki in her hands again!_ She hadn't realized until the offer was before her, how much she had longed to wield her sword again. Another thing occurred to her, she faced him.

"Would you-"

"Be in attendance? Yes."

She felt strange asking it. "Would you... spar with me?"

He dipped his head, "if you wish."

...

That was unspoken.

Not _Mistress Rukia_.

It bothered her more than she would care to admit, Tesla still called Nnoitora, _'Master.'_

She knew too that when he left during the afternoon, it was to wait on the Quinta.

Nnoitora's sneer at her in passing in the intersecting corridor and Tesla's pause for a swift bow to the Espada made that much clear. Rukia's fist clenched at her side. She kept silent. Nnoitora was the first she longed to run through with her sword, somehow the Quinta had replaced Aizen with the depth of despise she felt.

She wasn't sure why.

"Tesla." She also hated the way the Fraccion looked after his former master, with adulation evident in his manner. "Tesla!" Rukia hissed, glaring up at him. For some reason she wanted to hit him when Nnoitora had finally disappeared from sight and Tesla's attention had gone back to her.

"Let's go." She spat with as much venom as she possibly could. Turning around, she deliberately stretched the length of her stride so that he was forced to follow several steps behind; like the rest of the Fraccion, she noted, as they passed another group. A caramel-skinned woman with straw-blonde hair. The Espada had three other females with her in various states of scantily-clad uniforms.

Rukia envied their bodies momentarily, before she had even realized her train of thought. She did notice that Tesla barely paid a glance to the women Arrancars, only a slight nod to the leader before passing them by.

"Who were they?" Rukia whispered, lessening her pace in an attempt to fall in beside him. Tesla simply decreased his step, to maintain distance between them.

"Tia Halibel, the Tercera Espada and her three Fracciones."

"What number is that?" Rukia had limited knowledge of the language.

She didn't see the slight quirk at the corner of his downcast mouth. "Three."

_So, Nnoitora was Fifth, Ulquiorra, Orihime's guard was Fourth and the strangely colored blonde Tia Halibel was the third Espada_. Rukia ran through it twice in her mind, attempting to get it straight. She found she couldn't get the recollection of the woman's bust-line out of her mind, accompanied by a subtle feeling of envy.

Rukia glanced down surreptitiously at her own bosom, _nonexistent_. Then, moments later wondered why it even bothered her, the inferiority of her own body. She decided to test her theory.

"What do you think of the Tercera?" she was barely able to pronounce the number.

"She is a capable fighter." Tesla answered tonelessly, "though she is of the female species."

His notation of Halibel's gender didn't please her. "I didn't mean her strength. I meant do you find her attractive?" Rukia blurted out before thinking. She colored instantly, thanking whatever Gods were out there, that they weren't side by side.

"I don't-" His confusion was plain.

"Never mind!" Rukia said hurriedly, snapping up the opportunity to right her slip of the tongue. "Just forget it!"

Silence fell.

They went down two more corridors.

Just when she was becoming impatient about the length of the Palace, she saw a dead end up ahead. She thought she recalled the details of the layout to get from her room to the training grounds that he had related to her. Shouldn't it be...

"What gives?" she immediately snapped, spinning around to face him, "there's no training-"

Tesla was expressionless, " We passed the turn two corridors down."

She gaped openly at him, "and why didn't you say anything?"

"You seemed lost in thought. I did not wish to incur your anger by pointing out the obvious."

...

The grounds were empty when they arrived.

The place was massive, columns lining the walls held up the high-ceiling far above. Rukia had never seen anything like it. For a few moments, she stayed still, taking it all in. Tesla had wandered off and now his steps echoed, coming closer.

"Your Zanpaku-to." He said, holding out the black scabbard in one hand.

Rukia turned to him, her gaze on the sword. Extending her hand, she gripped it, lifting it toward her. "Thanks." No matter if he didn't understand the cause of her gratitude. It still meant a lot to be able to hold her sword again.

"Shall we?"

...

It reminded her of the time spent with Orihime.

_"Let's find it together."_

In the field behind Thirteenth Division and the nights spent talking on their bedrolls.

There was some bitterness to the swing of her sword cleaving through the Balas Tesla sent.

_What had they found?_

He was very careful not to hurt her.

Rukia's pride as a warrior demanded no holding back; but even as they continued, blades crossing, clanging, sparks flying. She realized he wasn't even conscious of holding back.

_So, why did he?_

The next swing, she gained ground, slicing through his shoulder in a splash of vivid red against the solid white. Tesla staggered; blood ran in rivulets down his arm, painting the white canvas.

"Let's stop." she said firmly, stepping back, sheathing her sword.

Accordingly he followed suit, seeming to ignore the wound, "shall I go and have the servants prepare a bath?"

"No." She rolled her eyes, getting closer. "We have to take care of your shoulder first."

He stared at her in a manner which she thought peculiar. "I am fine-"

"Like hell you're not!" she roared, her voice echoed and bounced in the chamber. Roughly Rukia grabbed him by the other arm and forcefully pulled him along to one of the small cabinets she had noticed that lined one of the walls nearest the door.

She assumed they contained styptic supplies but was disappointed to find they didn't.

Snatching a few white towels, she huffingly dragged him to the doors. "Never mind! I know where there's some."

...

She was thankful they didn't come across any more members of the Espada.

Once back inside her room, she directed him to the sofa, glaring when he hesitated.

"Sit down!" Rukia barked, propping her sword against her thigh, her fingers sliding back the hidden compartment in the hilt, inside was a small kit of styptic ointment and a roll of bandages carried by all officers of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. She was relieved to find the kit whole. Turning back to the sofa, she motioned with difficulty, her hands full.

"Take off your uniform."

He didn't hesitate to comply, finding the secret zipper track and gliding it midway only to wince when the action required motion from his left side. Rukia made a noise of disgruntlement, stalking over to the sofa, she dumped the items she had been holding and grasped the fabric herself. Yanking it away to reveal the sculpted plains of his torso. Adorning both sides were black lines with dots beneath them, they were the same that were embroidered onto the front of his uniform_, tattoos_ she guessed, they reminded her of Renji's.

It was slightly incongruous to see the expanse of flesh perfect then to look in his face and see the broken bone gracing his forehead. It was an all too subtle reminder that he was an Arrancar. _She wondered where his empty chain of fate was?_

"Is something the matter?"

She broke her gaze off, realizing she had been staring. "N-No. Of course not!" Irritated with herself, she rose and dragged the small table over, after wetting one of the towels she proceeded to carefully wipe the gash clean.

During this period, Tesla never complained, nor moved, only to hiss softly, his one eye visibly narrowing in pain when she applied the ointment. "Sorry.." Rukia murmured, unrolling the bandages. She felt the warmth of his skin as she twined the long white strips up and over. It was the same as when dressing that idiot Renji's wounds from sparring with Ikkaku, she told herself, even when something in her whispered there was no comparison.

"I'm finished," she announced unnecessarily, her fingers sliding clumsily over the bandages and the rise of muscle. She felt his arm subtly shift beneath her fingertips and quickly turned away, gathering up the soiled towels.

"Is it better?" she stood, dropping her bundle down on the table and then lifting it with both hands to move it back across the room.

After some hesitation, Tesla fixed his bloodstained uniform, the hiss of the zipper sliding up the metal teeth, the only sound until he spoke again. "Yes."

She didn't see him lightly touch the bandages, his hand closed in a slight fist.

_No one had ever tended his wounds before_.

...

Sode no Shirayuki was gone.

Tesla had left to change his uniform and return her Zanpaku-to. He hadn't said whom had care of it, but she suspected it was the Octava, Szayelaporro. Sighing to herself, she gazed about the room, a slight weight of loneliness darkening her thoughts.

The room felt empty now.

Rukia closed her eyes in an effort to calm her mind. She still felt off with her emotions. _Something about tending his wounds- something_. She couldn't quite pinpoint what had disturbed her so. _Was it memories of Soul Society and happier days?_

Rising to her feet, she wandered her familiar path around the rug. Moonlight streamed in from the window, her glance went to the elusive moon knowing it wasn't the same as the one over Soul Society and the living world.

_Ichigo_...

Thoughts of the orange-haired deputy slowed her steps, pausing beneath the moon, Rukia cupped a handful of light in her hand, wondering if the next time she saw him they would be enemies.

...

She decided to take a relaxing bath. Maybe the warm water would soothe away her moroseness. Before she had often awoken to find that breakfast and a bath had been prepared. Tesla was anything but lax in his duties. It seemed Nnoitora's displeasure and brutality stemmed from sheer barbarianism rather than his Fraccion's mistakes.

_A pity_, Rukia thought, turning the taps of the large sunken tub on full blast. _That made Tesla's devotion all the more pitiable_.

Soon the tub was half full and she had locked the connecting door, laid a towel out at the edge and was untying the black sash from the hakama. A slight sound like the creaking of a step came from the next room. Rukia paused, her hands stilling their motions, "Tesla?" she hesitated on opening the door. "Is that you?"

Silence. Rukia listened hard, her ear cocked for any more sounds. After a time she shrugged, disregarding her nagging sense that something was wrong.

Finishing undressing, she dropped the sweat-stained tunic and hakama into a hamper at the other end of the room, then padded nude to the water gently lapping at the sides of the cool marble tub.

As she lowered herself in, she thought she heard another sound, like that of someone leaning against the closed door.

Briefly she thought of calling out again, then...didn't.

_If it was important he would tell her about it later_.

...

The blood wouldn't stop flowing.

"So, I see the pet took care of your wound. Did it make you feel special, Tesla? Did it make you feel like something cared about you?" Nnoitora softly asked. On his knees, slumped over, Tesla watched the red droplets that oozed from his mouth drizzle the floor.

"Answer me!" Nnoitora's voice was shriller now, his kick no less savage.

The pain didn't mean much.

A crude hand roughly grabbed a hold of his short blond locks, twisting his head up painfully.

"I see you won't answer." Nnoitora's long oval face hovered over his, "I see you don't care about your former Master anymore, Tesla."

"Tha-that's not true..Mast-"

"You like that filthy little Soul Reaper bitch." The Quinta breathed, his onyx eye a mere slit, his long fingers crooking painfully into Tesla's scalp. "Just wait, you fool. Well just wait 'til she turns on you-"

"She won't." Quietly. With conviction.

Tesla was hardly aware of speaking until Nnoitora had hissed, "what did you say?"

He bore the increasing pain in silence.

Nnoitora shook him back and forth, "did you dare contradict your former master! Do you dare to presume yourself more than just a worthless piece of trash no one cares for?"

No response.

The grip was shifted. A cackle burst in the air. Nnoitora grinned manically down at his former Fraccion. "Perhaps I shall make you truly worthless, Tesla." The glint of a sword drawn and held point downward filled the Fraccion with something he had never felt before.

_Loathing_.

"You'll never be able to _see _ your precious bitch again!"

...

The bath had drained away most of her mental tension. Rukia dressed in a soft white robe she had found in a small chest near the hamper, tying the silky ribbon-like sash, she thought back on the noises she had heard in the next room.

"Tesla?" she called.

Silence.

Frowning to herself, she went and unlocked the door, the body that had been resting against it, jerked away. Instantly she recognized the blond hair.

"Tesla! What's wrong? Why didn't you answer-"

Something was _wrong_.

Blood splotched the floor.

It hadn't been there before.

"Tesla..."

He scrabbled away on his hands and knees, haste made him stumble over simple words. "I-I'm sorry, I am of no use to you anymore."

"What the hell is-" the blood came from his face. A sickening feeling washed over her. Rukia grasped him by the shoulder, stilling his motions immediately, with her other hand raising it to clasp his cheek.

"Who..." the ruined socket was coated with blood while more stained his uniform. She slowly clasped his face in both hands, her lips trembled, eyes filling. "Who did this to you?"

...

The black-haired Arrancar barely turned at her harried address.

"Ulquiorra!" Breathless, Rukia skated to a stop, fresh blood coated her hands and more smears had stained her robe, but she ignored it, staring after the Espada with desperation. "You are Ulquiorra, right? I-"

"State your business, woman. I do not associate with trash."

_Trash was she? _ Angrily she glared, knowing to say the wrong thing would antagonize the Arrancar to her. "I-I need to see Orihime!"

His eyes coolly surveyed her, "I cannot grant that request. If Lord Aizen-"

"Please!" she hated herself for thinking it, even saying it. "My-my Fraccion has been..hurt..I-I need him healed- please! I-I'm _o-one of y-you!"_

"I cannot grant your request," he repeated after another beat of looking at her. "Until Lord Aizen commands it."

He walked away.

She let out a frustrated scream.

...

Rukia returned to her room, haggard, defeated.

"I'm sorry." she murmured upon opening the door.

Tesla had remained where she had left him, seated on the sofa.

"I..." she looked across to the small table and the styptic supplies she'd left out. "I...I'll do my best." She went to the connecting bathroom and ransacked the cabinet for towels and ran warm water in the sink.

When she returned, Tesla shook his head at her approach.

"I lack purpose now. I cannot serve-" _you_.

"I don't care." Rukia lightly touched his cheek, guiding the angle of his face away. "I'm just sorry I can't do anything more than this." She began applying healing Kido that she had stored away.

Tesla felt the throbbing pain ease, sightless, he knew the Soul Reaper was standing right before him. Her touch was gentle, her fingers small, splayed out over his chin.

"Thank...you...Rukia."

It was more than enough.

...

The servants came.

Rukia directed them herself.

Towels were replaced, clean uniforms brought as well as extra blankets.

She knew his shame was great.

A strip of cloth like a blindfold had been prepared, she tied it on for him.

"I'm sorry I have to go now," she said again when Ulquiorra came.

_Aizen called_.

She tried not to think of what the sudden summons meant.

...

"Why did you not dispose of the Quinta's ex Fraccion?"

"I don't have to answer to you." She had not forgiven the green-eyed Cuatro for refusing her.

Ulquiorra looked ahead, a faraway tremor rocked the floor and walls.

"No. You do not."

...

_They had come_.

_The enemy_. Her friends.

Before a long table surrounded by nine of the ten Espada, Ulquiorra left her side and sat down completing the number. She passed by Ichimaru's leer with a shudder inside and Tosen's silent vigilance to approach the head of the table.

"You know what you must do." Aizen was smiling, gesturing from her to the hologram playing out in the center of the table.

Her heart fell.

Her voice was of stone. "Yes. May I ask for..."

Inside she was breaking apart.

_Brother...you as well?_

...

Black Soul Reaper robes were brought within the hour.

Rukia thanked the silent servants, taking the robes in her arms. Once the door had closed she had gone to the bathroom and changed, folding the Arrancar uniform neatly and placing it atop the hamper. She had a feeling she would never wear it again.

Staring at herself in the mirror above the sink, Rukia saw the same face she had known before, only her hair was a little longer.

_But, she had changed inside_.

The final touch was to pin the flower clip above her ear.

"They're inside the Palace." Tesla said.

Surprised, Rukia stopped in the doorway, "how do you-"

"Synchronized consciousness. A pitched battle is being fought in the northwest corridor of Las Noches."

Rukia walked slowly across the room, stopping in front of him. "Where is that?"

"Far from here."

"Has-" she couldn't bring herself to say her brother's name.

"The Captains have separated. It is believed they are looking for you."

She felt cold all over. "I see...I...I must go."

For moments neither spoke.

She gathered her courage. "Tesla...as my final command..." Rukia closed her eyes, leaning in to whisper softly into his ear, "don't look for me. Run far, far away, get away from Las Noches. Please _live_... that is all I ask of you."

The door opened. Orihime stood on the threshold, useless tears in her eyes.

Rukia hurried and brushed past her without another word.

...

Las Noches was a maze.

Soon, she was breathless from running and still she could sense Byakuya's reiatsu even closer.

One hour.

She thought it had been an hour, it felt like many more.

_Don't follow me_-_Don't come any closer_-

There were no tears left, no more words to say.

She reached the caged room and slipped inside.

Her reiatsu disappeared.

She gazed about the moonlight-filled interior and drew Sode no Shirayuki.

Many faces and memories passed through her mind in a single second of hesitation.

One remained when all else had faded.

He- the pitiful, abused Arrancar whom no one cared about.

"Tesla." she steadied the cool blade to her throat.

And closed her eyes.

"There is no home for us."

...

The Soul Reapers were winning.

Master Nnoitora had fallen to a Captain.

Another had lost Rukia's trail and wandered, cutting down all whom stood in his way.

Kuchiki Byakuya did not know where she would've gone.

Tesla did.

Red gleamed like ruby crystal beneath the shaft of moonlight.

He had disobeyed.

The sword had fallen from her grasp, the lifeblood most concentrated on the slit across her throat. Tesla went to her then, dropping down and taking the Soul Reaper's body in his arms for the last time, feeling the warmth stealing away.

"You said not to follow." He murmured, cradling her closer to his chest. "But, without you..."

The sting of the blade was barely felt.

Fresh blood gleamed beneath the moon.

"I have no purpose for existing."

...

There was another.

Byakuya's cold, severe gaze refused to accept what he saw.

"Captain Kuchiki?" Hanataro Yamada peered around him, then cried aloud, "Ms. Rukia!"

The medic flew to his sister's side, "C-Captain Kuchiki-t-the ice! She's still alive!"

Byakuya turned away from the sight. It was aberrant. _Unacceptable_.

_A Soul Reaper in the arms of an Arrancar_.

"Let's take her home."

-Finis-

AN: The longest one-shot in the collection. -.- Took me a while to complete...but I think the end result is fairly good considering the pairing it involved. :) Thanks for reading.

No flames!

Reviews appreciated!


	36. Sins of the Father

AN: This is rated a very strong **M** for a reason. *not violence*

Pairing: RyukenxRukia hinted UryuxRukia

Rating: M (very mature)

Title: Sins of the Father

Summary: He claims a Quincy is superior to a Shinigami. She demands he proves it. Ryuken begins a chain reaction of events by a simple invitation to his office one evening. Rukia's never one to turn down a challenge.

...

He frightened her.

The tall, thin impassive man with the bow made of light relaxed at his side.

Cigarette smoke wafted heady in the air.

Even if he hadn't spoken, she'd have known his face. The exact tilt of the bone structure, the same sarcastic embittered light in the man's eyes as in his son's.

"Soul Reaper." He spoke coolly, calmly.

A shiver ran up her spine though the night air was warm against her bare arms.

"What are you doing here?"

The question brought a spark of anger to flare despite his narrow observation, like a predator stalking a smaller, slighter creature. She despised his candor, his arrogance, almost immediately. "Doing what is _my_ sacred duty, Quincy! _What_ are you doing here?" she parroted his question back with a sneer that felt good.

In the next second, his broad shoulders heaved beneath the expensive tailored-suit. She tried not to think this was how the Uryu she knew now, would look.

_Handsome._

_Intelligent._

_Unreachable by the world_.

"Enjoying the night, Soul Reaper." He lit a cigarette.

She folded her arms, frowning because something seemed off. And...damn it! She despised it when things failed to make sense to her perceptive mind_. She shouldn't be there._ The feeling of wrongness increased by the second yet her legs wouldn't carry her away from the shadowy little park outside the hospital grounds.

The smoke from his cigarette wafted around her.

Silence and the spirit particles of the Hollow waned.

She decided to say something even if it was ridiculous. "How is..Uryu?"

"You tell me." The man said without inflection so she knew he wasn't trying hard to make fun of her. "The boy does what he wants- regardless...of what I say."

The hint of bitterness caught her off guard.

She had thought he did things with purpose.

Lacking as a father, as support.

Then, she considered Ichigo's father, finding little to compare. "Uryu is..fine." Rukia's mind struggled to formulate the words, still struggling to define the absent Quincy's well-being when the father laughs.

Shortly.

Bitterly.

It cracked on her ears.

"Fine, you say, Soul Reaper?" His smile was cold beneath the moonlight mingling with the lamplight. Rukia was sure it was smoke clouding her head. Clogging her lungs like the commercials she's seen in the Kurosaki household, say.

Otherwise, why would her heart start beating a staccato beat?

"Uryu broke his word and runs with a pack of humans supposedly protecting this town."

"He's doing what he thinks he must." She said fairly hotly, angry that the man would judge his son so harshly.

"Then the Soul reapers are as useless as always if my son is required."

"Take it back." She rounded on him.

Ryuken puffed softly on the cigarette, another cloud of smoke wafting from his well-shaped mouth before he speaks again. "No. I think not, a Quincy is by definition the superior being even of an extinct race. But, you..you would challenge that view by spouting nonsense about justice and keeping the balance."

"I would." She lifted her chin, attempting to stare him down.

"Then," he flicked his cigarette to the cement and ground it out beneath his heel. "I will say, come, Soul Reaper, to the tenth floor of the hospital at approximately nine forty PM and I will show you how superior a Quincy is."

...

He still frightens her.

At nine-forty sharp, she doesn't bother knocking on his office door. Ryuken works late, always. It was something she recalled Uryu mentioning once in the past. Rukia was thankful the downstairs had been empty, hospitals made her uneasy, too many trips to Seireitei's healing center had her wary of any so-called healers.

But, that isn't why her knees tremble, nor her eyes stare so defiantly at the snowy head bent low over work. Rukia hates to admit she's afraid of anything, let alone a human man. So, she clears her throat, stalking over to his desk. Ryuken takes his time in addressing her, in raising his bespectacled face. When it does, his look is piercing, nonetheless cold.

"Soul Reaper."

"_Rukia_." She insists, her eyes flints.

He makes no reply, simply sits back after gathering his worksheets to one side, clearing space. It's all so methodical, so perfect that for a moment she simply watches his actions, never spare, always exact, until his cold eyes turn up to hers.

Waiting like a predator.

Sex is not gentle.

He pounds into her petite body, her knees spread, he moving in and out, pistoning thrusts from a large organ that make her walls shudder and threaten to break around him. Ryuken is no different from any other man. His needs never change.

Never diminish, she notices, as his surprisingly delicate hands for such a large man, move to her front, cupping her tiny breasts. They slide to her waist almost caressingly, lifting her hips up to gain more depth. Rukia shudders, groaning under her breath.

There's a masochistic fulfillment in the act.

A filthiness in the knowledge, that heightens her senses.

Ryuken's teeth grate together, he's suppressing his moans. Riding her out as his orgasm builds, his thrusts becoming uneven, sloppy. Rukia claws at the fine polished wood beneath her, her dress hiked far up her thighs.

His hands are on her breasts again, gripping them painfully as he comes.

A wet stickiness fills her, dripping down her cheeks, spiraling into trails down the insides of her thighs. Ryuken lifts her with ease, his shadow taller, broader than her as he sits down in the desk chair pushed off to the side, forgotten.

Rukia despises the semen leaking out of her crack.

Facing him now, she sees a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, dampening the longer locks of his silver hair. His eyes remain cold, clinical as his hands work at sliding the dress over her head. It's discarded soon enough, a yellow pile cast off with her innocence long ago. Rukia sits on his lap, her eyes daring as his gaze roves over her thin cotton bra, her nipples stand out against the fabric.

She looks like a child in his eyes.

But, he knows she's not.

Some faint spark replace her reflection behind the square frames. His hands unclasp her bra, cupping her breasts again in the same motion. Rukia felt a faint tingle of pleasure from the twisting of the pink aureoles, instinct made her hips lift resting against his half-hard member.

She felt its slick head slide against her crack as remembrance, ache fills her.

Ryuken watches her face intently.

Rukia dug her small nails into the armpads of the chair, shutting her eyes as she deliberately impales herself on his erect penis.

Almost immediately sensation explodes inside her.

Her hips writhe, the pain almost unbearable, his organ slides out deceptively gentle from her walls. She misses its lack within seconds, the throbbing between her thighs won't cease- so she thrusts again, and again.

Her tiny breasts jiggle, his hands steady her, but that's his only assistance.

Rukia is riding him, his cock plunging in and out- and she can't seem to stop. Can't seem to care when he's full to the hilt inside her tiny body, when the air becomes filled with her grunts.

She fucks him like an animal, her legs spread wide, her pussy walls clamping down on his penis. Her tongue even lolls, her panting like a dog's. She feels something build, something twisting painfully in her stomach.

Rukia forces her eyes to open, to stare defiantly into his chiseled as if from stone expression, she comes hard, staring at his beautiful face.

It's a sneer she gives him as she slides from his limp cock; mockery as naked, flushed with the afterglow of sexual fulfillment bends in front of him, presenting her ass while she gathers up her panties. Her bra was somewhere on the other side of the desk, the dress near his feet.

She takes an inordinate amount of time sliding her panties up. All the while Ryuken still watches her, expression unreadable, but Rukia knows there's a certain hunger in the weight of his stare. Her panties cling, dampening with the scent of sex and spent fluids, that was a part of sex she never liked, the scent of a man clinging to her skin, but with him, somehow it's different.

When she's dressed, she pauses.

Waiting.

Ryuken hasn't moved from when she left him, still sitting, his fly unzipped.

Rukia knows if she turns around, he- _it_ will be waiting.

Unconsciously _of course_, she licks her lips.

And crosses the room, around the desk and drops to her knees.

There's an involuntary submission in the act for both.

Rukia kneels between his legs, bobbing her mouth up and down his cock and his hand that trails..._gently_ through her hair urging her on.

...

It's getting more intense with each passage of time.

Even when she's away, carrying out her duties as Thirteenth's new Lieutenant, she can't help but think of the scent of books and pervasive masculine odor. Her body trembles then, flushing inside with heat and remembrance. In too soon a time, she's forcing herself to calm down.

But it's always there.

_His hands, his hard lean body moving above her_-

Rukia acknowledges to herself when one day after a Lieutenants meeting, Renji asks her out; _that it's only Ryuken Ishida she desires_. An easy lay wouldn't take away the burning feeling in her blood. Rukia knows it and turns him down with a punch and a shake of her head.

Renji tries to understand, but deep in his eyes, she sees he doesn't.

He thinks it's Ichigo.

Everyone always does.

She smiles to herself covertly as she leaves ostensibly to pick up something from Urahara.

No one would ever dream it was a Quincy who set her blood aflame.

...

The mechanisms are the same.

Thrusting, groping, sucking.

But, Rukia can feel something different with each time he shows her that a Quincy is more dominant than a Soul Reaper.

She fucks him hard one evening as the shadows are growing longer across the floor of the room, his hands steady her as her pace roughens, her body jerking as each thrust fuels the burning fire in her gut, her eyes open as custom, her orgasm much harder and longer when she's staring into his frozen mask of indifference.

His face is no different than before, the sight of it makes her walls spasm in pleasure, pulsing as her juices gush.

The routine is almost the same.

Even as her pause is broken and her steps lead back around the desk.

Ryuken sits as he always does.

Which is why he never expects it when her lips pout and she presses a soft kiss on his sealed lips.

It's brief.

She doesn't dare meet his eyes nor look back when she leaves.

...

Six months since she was away.

Rukia's back in Karakura.

Uryu issues a rare invitation for her to come study at his house.

_His father is away at a medical conference_- the son so much like his father explains, like light and dark, she muses on the rooftop of Karakura high; Rukia always makes sure the old gang is never around to see her on the rare visits, there's still too much pain there.

But, Uryu _wants_ the company; he's tired of slaying Hollows with only a scant few people around who know what he is, he's lonely. So is she.

She realizes it all, sipping the juice box he thoughtfully brought for her.

Also knowing she likes Uryu- _more than before_.

_But what about_... her instincts tell her not to.

Rukia smiles instead, assuring herself he won't be there.

"I'd be delighted to."

Uryu's smile is a little fainter, shyer.

Rukia thought of his father and the kiss.

_Why had she kissed him?_

...

But, it doesn't matter.

It's already over.

She goes to the address he gave her, her heart light, she had even purchased a new dress. Plain but the color was a delicate pink to match the sandals Urahara left out for her Gigai. At the door, Uryu answered promptly, genuinely happy to see her.

They exchange smiles.

Rukia leaves her sandals in the shallow step before stepping into the slippers left out for guests. Uryu apologizes if anything's deficient, they haven't had guests for such a long time. He sounds wistful when he says it, but there's no such expression when she looks at his face.

He's glad.

They share another smile then Uryu offers to show her the kitchen and the recipe he's chosen for the night's dinner- _she is going to stay, right?_

...

The routine was the same, but he came home early.

The change in flight plan hadn't seemed a worthy reason to allow his son knowledge of it.

Ryuken doesn't think much of it, nor expect anything different than a solitary dark-haired boy almost past his teens at the two-story house. They're always alone.

He expects that.

Silence.

Solitude.

And work. He'd rather contemplate the hospital's budget only recently approved by the board.

He doesn't want to think of _other_ things.

There's a certain normalcy to the motion that comforts him despite the unease tingling his senses that something is wrong, in inserting the key into the locked door. In the swing of silent hinges the eggshell-colored foyer is revealed.

There's four pairs of slippers on the floor and-

Ryuken stops at the sight of a pair of pink sandals, girly- his mind supplies, suspicion the next. His son has never brought home a girl before-

He forcefully stops his line of thinking when he notices the daintiness of the shoe size.

The door closes quietly.

He exchanges his brown loafers for slippers, pausing once to listen for any sound.

Nothing.

Ryuken surmises they must be upstairs, when as he's moving down the hallway, he catches his son's voice coming from around the next corner. _They're in the kitchen_.

The smell of fragrant spice scenting the air is the least thing, the father notices as he comes into sight.

Ryuken knows from the pure surprise on his son's face, that he had not been heard entering; but even Uryu's exclamation is forgotten as Ryuken's gaze falls on the intruder- on the one he never thought he would see again.

She's the same- he's surprised, but then recalls Soul Reapers don't age like humans.

She wears her hair the same, it's a little longer on the ends, going past her shoulders. The look becomes her, Ryuken thinks suddenly, unable to keep from noticing the small breasts he touched in his office six months before nor the rest of her body, knowing what lay beneath the shapeless pink garment.

He's suddenly ashamed when silence fills the kitchen- Uryu's just botched introductions, and he's been staring for a beat longer than necessary. Uncustomary to this happening, Ryuken ignores his son's open-mouthed stare, curtly dipping his head briefly to the motionless woman.

"We've met." Then because the statement seems enigmatic, he adds, "at the hospital."

The silence was more pronounced.

Ryuken isn't sure what disturbs him more, his son's social awkwardness - won't the boy shut his open mouth now? Or the fact that the Soul Reaper can't look him in the eye.

Something bubbles up in the distance, Ryuken is strangely thankful for the distraction, even when he's a man whom appreciates silence. "Dinner?" he keeps the sneer to a minimum before her. He isn't sure _why_.

Uryu yelps, she moves, beside him, near him, passing.

Ryuken barely feels something when the slender back is to him; but that something disturbs him even more and she's beside his son, chiding his inattention, laughing like any ordinary girl. Uryu at once at ease with the girl standing so close, smiles back pretending to be offended at her gentle insults.

A girl and boy- his son and-

The father is forgotten.

Suddenly something tight, painful constricts his chest. Ryuken is vaguely unfamiliar with the feeling, only knowing he has to get out of the kitchen, get away from the sight of his son and the very human seeming Soul Reaper.

He leaves, unnoticed.

The private office in the back of the downstairs, is where he retreats to. Plush. Masculine. The scent of leather drives out the memory of other smells, the scent of sex and books. Ryuken drops heavily down into the chair, shutting his eyes tightly. There's a headache pounding between his eyes, born of fatigue, he diagnoses himself humorlessly.

Ever since his wife died, he's never allowed himself to get close to a woman- any woman.

_But, there's something_-

His body sags heavily in the chair, covering his face with one hand.

He swore he could hear them still, faintly.

Laughter.

The sound of youth.

He covers his face with both hands, attempting to shut out the memory-

..._of when the Soul Reaper kissed him_.

...

She knows she's stupid for going there.

Stupid-stupid-stupid.

But, that doesn't compare to Ryuken's sentence.

"We've met."

She prays Uryu thinks it's plausible.

Then, the father adds, maybe to condemn her, Rukia's mind whispers traitorously. "At the hospital."

That starts the memories. But, Rukia isn't the type to cower and hide in anything. So, she remains. Disconcerted. Bold as brass. With a smile and a chiding tone in her voice, she passes the man she had been intimate with no less than six months before.

Ryuken remains as immovable as stone.

Uryu, trusting Uryu doesn't notice the tightness to her lips when she stretches them in a smile. It feels like a rictus grin. She teases him, barely knowing what she says, only prays it's amusing.

Uryu laughs.

Ryuken leaves.

_He knows when his presence isn't wanted_- says a sly voice in her mind.

_'Shut up!'_ She pleads.

Far off in the house, a door slams.

One slams shut on her heart.

...

Dinner is almost done.

For the last sixty minutes she's been counting the seconds wondering how long until a soul simply burns away with the shame accrued from over a lifetime of existing. Uryu stands at the stove, punctuating his sauce-stirring with anecdotes about life in Karakura while she's been away.

Yuzu and Karin have entered Junior high.

Orihime enrolled in self-defense class at Tatsuki's encouragement.

Ichigo...and Ichigo still mopes.

That hasn't changed.

Rukia pretends to hear all, commenting at appropriate times, rolling her eyes with Uryu at Ichigo's expense; but when the time comes, she hops off the bar stool at the counter a little too quickly.

"I'll go tell your dad dinner's done."

Uryu's pencil-thin dark brows raise the slightly.

"Is something wrong?" Rukia questions, combatant as always.

The son shrugs, "go ahead. Be my guest. I doubt he'll join us though."

Rukia is already going, over her shoulder she adds, "I am your _guest_."

Uryu laughs again.

...

In the hallway, she still can't quite breathe.

Her legs shiver with invisible malaise, her palms sweat no matter how many times she wipes them dry on the skirt of her dress. The door looms ahead, polished, immaculate like everything else in Ryuken Ishida's life.

She doesn't bother knocking.

It feels like old times.

The clock reads six-forty on his desk. Ryuken sits, his head tilted back, glasses resting at a slight angle on his long, thin nose. His dress shirt is unbuttoned at the throat, exposing a sliver of flesh. Rukia can't stop her body from taking her around the desk, from dropping between his spread legs.

A bulge strains at the crotch of his tan slacks.

Her tongue flicks across her lips, her agile fingers slide the zipper down.

"Dinner is almost done." Rukia remembers her message, murmuring it against the bulbous tip of his penis. She doesn't see his eyes narrow nor the almost silent gasp escape.

Her tongue laps at the weeping slit moments later, lips wrapping around the taut flesh.

Sucking.

She sucks him like a lollipop.

Ryuken Ishida knows heaven for ten minutes.

...

6:50 PM.

_There's subtle whitish flecks in the insides of her mouth_.

Father, son and guest sit at the dining table in silence.

Rukia tastes a salt above the flavor of Uryu's cooking. Her insides twist; what have you become? Some old part of her asks? On the outside, Rukia smiles and lifts the soda in the fluted glass like it were wine.

And tastes the father's seed.

She aches.

...

The dishes are in the dish washer, the kitchen cleaned.

Rukia's said her compliments to the chef, from the corner of her eye seeing Ryuken leave.

The door closes in the distance again.

Uryu offers her a smile and asks if she wants to retire to his room upstairs; she's old enough to know there's no hidden meaning behind the gesture, the son just wants to stay as far as from his father as possible in the house where they both live.

Rukia is saddened somehow by that.

She gives Uryu a false smile.

"Alright."

He can never see beyond it.

...

Uryu's room is everything she expected it to be.

Streamline desk, top of the line computer and narrow twin bed in masculine hues.

It's plain.

"This is nice." It is. There's a touch of Ryuken in Uryu more than the son would admit. Rukia thinks it, but doesn't say.

After twenty minutes they're laughing again, chuckling over reminisces about their friends.

An hour.

Then two.

He's asleep as she hoped, falling sideways to rest halfway on and halfway off.

Rukia gazes down at the head of dark hair and narrow, aesthetic features.

"Sleep well, Uryu." Then, she gets up and goes downstairs.

9:45 PM the clock on the desk reads.

They have their old places.

He behind the desk, she before him.

"You're late."

"Five minutes." she scoffs.

"The spell was barely detectable. Soul Reaper magic, I presume?"

She glares but lets his hands go to her hips first, lifting the skirt of her dress up first.

"It'll last a while." Rukia adds when his finger crooks at the hem of her yellow panties.

They fall like her barriers do when he palms her crotch.

...

The sex isn't gentle.

But neither of them refuse to communicate. They speak in action, anger in his almost violent thrusts, crudity in the long finger extended up her inner thigh. Rukia rocks on it, a miniature-penis, huffing when it crooks, when it digs past her buttery folds and finds something harder inside her.

It hurts.

His large organ pumping in and out. She's on her knees, naked, on the floor. Her breasts are so tiny they barely jiggle at each animalistic motion. _Punishment_, she thinks, rolling her hips against his finger. Ryuken takes much longer, his orgasm in sputtering bursts. When it's finished, he slides slowly from her ass, his limpid cock brushing against the backs of her thighs then she's lifted into his arms.

Pink, swollen, wet.

She's still like a child in his eyes, even as he appears as an older man in hers.

Ryuken's age shows.

That doesn't stop her from bouncing up and down on his semi-erect cock. She drops to her knees, seconds from completion. Her pussy burns with lack of fulfillment, drizzling juices down her slender thighs.

A sheen stands out on the doctor's forehead, dampening his locks. He pants harder, breathing irregular. Rukia cups his fruit in her hands and wraps her salivating lips over it, she sucks long and hard, her tongue rubbing fiercely at the man's erection. Ryuken's old, she can taste it in his seed, she can feel it in the penis she bobs her mouth on.

_So, different_, she thinks. _We are_.

When his orgasm sputters into her mouth, she laps at the sticky white fluid then crawls up. She's reflected in his eyes, flushed with youth, wetter, aching. Rukia still feels lustful when she experimentally brushes her lips on his.

Semen and saliva mingle as Ryuken's hard mouth opens, his tongue brushes hers for the briefest moment then his lips travel down her chin, angling over her tiny breasts. She lets his mouth work over her buds, sharp licks that make the air colder and harden her nipples more. Everything about Ryuken is cold and clinical; _cold_- she thinks, as he settles her onto the hard floor, rutting her legs shamelessly apart. _Like me_.

His tongue angles across her clit, darting quickly over the rise of her vaginal sheath. She gushes wetly, unashamedly at the small attention. Ryuken's more careful than she is, applying subtle licks and caresses with his tongue. Her back arches, as moan after moan is wrung from her lips. Then suddenly he stops- her body burning with lust remains unsatiated as the man resurfaces, his slate eyes coldly detached.

"Quincies are superior, are they not?" he questions and her befogged mind can barely understand it. Moments pass then she smiles, reaching up and curling her small hand against his cheek.

"You are." she accedes and Ryuken smiles one tiny smile before their lips meet.

Then the door opens...

-Fin-?

AN: Thanks for reading :) I had actually wanted the NnoiRuki AU to be right after the previous chapter of TeslaxRukia which I have to admit I was very proud of. *beaming* but anyway, for the NnoiRuki I was aiming for the same sort of melancholia interspersed with violence except this smutty piece demanded posting. -.-; urgh. Yeah.

No flames!~

Reviews loved :)


	37. Rukia 2:0

AN: for Moonsurfer. Enjoy.

Title: Rukia 2.0

Rating: M

Requested Pairing: MayurixRukia

Summary: Robotics specialist, Mayuri Kurotsuchi lives at the edge of town, alone save for his invalid daughter Nemu and a new prototype android named Rukia. AU.

* * *

At first there was nothing.

Mayuri flicked the switches repeatedly, a crease line forming as it usually did on his forehead beneath untidy cerulean locks. _Why wasn't anything working properly?_ He fumed in silence, stalking like the archetypal mad scientist around the still, prone form beneath a white sheet on the observation table.

The electrical shock had been sent to the inner circuits, so why wasn't the doll moving? Mayuri scowled and thought and thought some more finally turning with a flourish of a long white lab coat to the hand-written manual on the countertop. There amid the glass beakers and plastic tray of eyeballs, he found what he was searching for.

A name...all things animate required one as a source of identity.

While he wasn't particularly fond of the one Nemu had chosen; he shrugged back to the figure lying beneath the sheet.

"Wake up, Rukia."

At his voice, a tremor spread through the sheet, a vibration that receded into wonderfully fake-motion of life. Delicate fingers curled around the edge of the sheet, peeling it back to reveal a narrow expanse of pale fleshoid compound stretched over a metal-alloy bone structure for unbreakability. The female's breasts were petite, slight curves to which the circuitry knew no modesty with only the basic functions programmed into the mainframe.

Rukia let the sheet rest at her waist and turned her head slowly to him, black hair trimmed to frame tiny ears, the rest longer to fringe her collar-bone. A lock lay between two large violet-blue eyes that remained glassy.

"Mayuri Kurotsuchi, creator." Rukia recited flatly.

He couldn't suppress the manic glee that spread over his face.

_The Android had spoken!_

_It had been a success!_

...

Nemu clapped quietly from beneath the bedcovers.

"So, father was successful." She said musingly as the cart bearing a silver domed tray was wheeled in by an impassive dark-haired female. The dim room was on the southside of the old mansion, away in a wing by herself, the frail girl strained to sit up as the android pushed the cart to the bedside.

"You must be Rukia? I am Nemu Kurotsuchi." Nemu introduced, slipping her one long braid over her shoulder. The android had been attired in a maid's uniform, a to the knee black dress with white ruffle fringe at the throat and at the sleeves capping tiny hands. Her starched white apron was spotless, a crispness to her motions that betrayed none of her circuits and wiring beneath her skin.

Nemu tried not to mind the lack of a response.

Rukia was new. She was sure her father hadn't seen it necessary to input common sentence structures other than was absolutely required into the voicebox. As proven by the inflectionless comment from the android.

"Your breakfast is served, Nemu-san."

The quiet girl looked from the dish laid out before her, quite a different fare than what her father could concoct himself, and smiled the tiniest bit. "There's no need to address me so formally. _Nemu_ will suffice."

The android exited without a word.

...

"She is quite a masterpiece, father." Nemu praised, having waited for the better part of two hours for Mayuri to pause in writing his thesis for the college Board on advanced Robotics. Rukia was across the room, mechanically sweeping a feather-duster over the spines of the wall-to-ceiling books.

Mayuri crooked one thin blue eyebrow, laying the pen down precisely by the paper. "She?"

Nemu unfolded her clasped hands from the afghan spread over her lap. "Rukia," she motioned. "whom else?"

"Oh. _It_." He dismissed with a faint sniff. Truth be told he had hardly spared a thought to the android dusting off the entire circumference of the library. Other than the inhabited rooms sparkling clean and the meals better than what he could haphazardly prepare before, Mayuri had quite forgotten about the feeling of triumph he'd felt at Rukia's birth.

"Hn. It may appear life-like however remember, Nemu, There's nothing under that fleshoid skin compound but electrical synapses and microchips providing semi-intelligence."

She was silent for a moment; the sound of Mayuri's pen scratching the paper filled it.

Then, unnoticed by both humans, Rukia stopped dusting, some internal clock registering a check on Nemu Kurotsuchi's comfort level. So, she left the duster on the shelf and approached the wheelchair bound girl parked beneath the fleur delis lamp.

"Do you require anything to maximize your comfort level?"

Nemu was a little surprised her father had enough consideration to input the simple command. She shook her head slightly, "no, nothing. Thank you."

Rukia remained expressionless but clasped the lace hem of her dress, dipping into a mechanical curtsy and went back to dusting. The movement caught the scientist's attention, he didn't recall programming that aspect in.

...

"Your breakfast is served, Nemu." Rukia was as toneless as the past seven days of her existence yet the reminder of honorific-removal didn't leave Nemu's throat now.

"You..."

The android had moved to the door but paused almost curiously halfway turning, "something else you require?"

Nemu hid her smile behind her cloth napkin. "No, you may go now."

Later on after dinner, Nemu said softly as Mayuri reached for the newspaper.

"Thank you for modifying Rukia's voicebox."

"Huh?" The scientist looked truly mystified, yellow eyes flickering to his daughter. "What are you blathering about now? I haven't done anything to improve the protoype's performance."

Undeterred, Nemu motioned to her own throat. "Her voicebox. You must've changed her vocal commands?" It ended as a question and a tiny frown when the android reappeared carrying a tea tray.

"Your tea, Mayuri-sama, Nemu-san."

Nemu said _thank you_ as always yet looked away unable to understand it.

_Why had Rukia gone back to using an honorific? She hadn't imagined it, had she?_

...

The next day, Mayuri rang the service bell in his office adjacent to the main lab below stairs. The android answered promptly within minutes, gazing inquiringly at him.

"You required something, Mayuri-sama?"

The scientist folded his arms over his buttoned lab coat. "Undress. I wish to check your battery pack."

_Was it him or did the tiniest frown cross the robot's blank expression?_

Delicate hands reached behind, unfastening the white apron, it fell to a puddle on the floor the next moment, then deft fingers pried at tiny black cloth-covered buttons, snapping them crisply open until a long line of pale skin was exposed. Rukia let her dress fall to a dark puddle around her legs, naked she stood, arms straight at her sides.

Mayuri moved then, slipping on a pair of latex gloves from his coat pocket. Touching her impersonally, he stepped behind her and ran his hand up and down her straight metal spine. Finding the seam of the lid, he dipped his hand lower, dipping his index finger between her buttocks, depressing the hidden button. Rukia's violet-blue eyes flickered, going glassier then finally black as her system shutdown. Mayuri withdrew his hand and flipped up the lid of her control panel.

For the next half-hour he checked her main circuitry drivers and wired stream connecting the main voicebox to her frontal vocal cords. _Everything seemed in order_... he shook his head. Nemu had always been one to imagine things. Mayhap it was just an electrical fluke that occurred when he wasn't around. Satisfied with his diagnosis, Mayuri snapped the top shut, the edge becoming nothing more than a smooth expanse of skin and moved around to face the android. Rukia's eyes were cold glass, refracting his face as he peered at her.

Mayuri wanted to see the symantec protocol turn itself back and for that he needed to flip the switch from the front. To his cold gloved hand, The smoothness of her thighs meant nothing as his finger went deeper, past her human female-shaped hairless mound. Mayuri slipped in past the warmthless celloid flesh lips, angling forward to reach the button.

Pressing it, he watched as her eye-lights flickered on, the blackness receding to reveal the same glassy violet.

"Mayuri Kurotsuchi, creator." Rukia confirmed tonelessly.

Mayuri nodded, satisfied to himself, withdrawing his finger from the android's pussy lips.

"Everything's in working order. Redress and attend to Nemu. Do not disturb me unless called." Mayuri turned away, flicking his gloves and tossing them in a nearby wastecan. Behind him the rustle of clothing came as the android redressed as told. Mayuri wasn't sure why but at the doorway, he glanced back as she- no, _it_, reaffixed the collar around her throat.

Then, he left for his laboratory, unsure of why he had hesitated.

...

The doorbell rang shrilly, breaking the silence of mid-afternoon.

Rukia went directly to answer it, unlatching the massive chain bolted above her head and opening it to the tall figure of a man wearing a tan trench coat and green-striped hat.

"Why hello there!" He had a sing-songy voice, a kind that had never registered on her audio-vox before. Sandy blond locks peeked out around the edges of his hat which he tipped to her with a grin. "You must be Nemu! So grown up now! But I'm not surprised Mayuri lollified his own daughter! The old geezer!" The stranger chuckled as she continued to peer up at him, mystified at his speech patterns. They were unlike anything she had ever heard before.

"Mayuri-sama is not father. He is _creator_." Her circuits flatly chose as the correction to speak. The stranger remained unperturbed but still grinned with a shrug.

"Is the old man at home then?"

She shut the door in his face and turned back to continue cleaning.

Undeterred the stranger rank the bell again. Rukia mechanically pivoted about and opened it, vague irritation making her circuitry heated as the stranger pushed his way in when she tried to close the door (yet again once seeing it was still him)

"'yuri! Mayuuuuriii!"

Deep down in his lab, the scientist recognized the voice belonging to former friend/rival from college and set down the glass slide he had been examining with a note of annoyance.

"Damned Kisuke."

...

"So, this is Rukia-chan then." Kisuke said in between bites of blueberry-studded scones reminiscent of Britain's isle. Mayuri sat across on the other side of the long coffee table in the drawing room, eyeing _his_ android seated impassively on the sandy-haired man's knee.

"Yes. She is Rukia 1.0, the prototype I created for showcasing the wonders of robotic technology to the fools at To-oh Uni." Mayuri's gaze slid away, his mouth twisting in a scowl. "That fool Yamamoto laughed at my ideas of robotic teachers cutting down on spending costs to provide a more manageable budget system!"

"I can see how that might rankle you to have your unquestionable genius questioned." Kisuke Urahara said thoughtfully with a smile. Mayuri sent him a dagger-filled glare. Kisuke pretended not to see it, curving his large hand inward around the tiny maid's waist. Her skirt had hiked up revealing an inch of stocking ending in garters.

"I'm just amazed at how life-like she is!" He exclaimed, slipping his hand even further upward.

For some reason that angered Mayuri even more.

"Kindly," the scientist said with through gritted teeth. "State your reasoning for paying this uncalled for visit."

Kisuke's smile had faded at the hostility emanating from his old friend's yellow eyes. But returned as he indolently palmed the android's crotch. "As you know I went into a slightly different profession than respectable doll-making for high corporations such as yourself. Rather I choose to entertain and delight the public with items for usage in private quarters! Which is why after.." he hesitated, his smile possessing lasciviousness to it, "_meeting_ Rukia-chan 1.0 I find I would like to ask a favor of my dear old friend."

"Such as?" Mayuri asked with barely concealed venom.

Kisuke's smile stayed in place. "Five models of Rukia 1.0 to sell to my most discerning clients."

"It's not built for sexual intercourse." Mayuri said flatly.

"I thought so. You'd have to make some minor adjustments to her flesh, make it warmer...wetter. Maybe some kind of chip meant to simulate arousal-? Hey, I promise half the cut, that's a good two hundred _thou_ in American dollars." Kisuke offered, attempting to charm his way with a twinkle in his green eyes.

"No. Now get out." He'd had enough of the odious man and the waste of genius used for pleasuring sick-minded old men. He'd had his wife before but after her death during Nemu's birth had cut himself completely off sexual desires. And as he rose to escort Urahara out, grew even angrier for the suggestion that the doll he built would be used in such a way.

Kisuke shook his head covertly at the stubbornness of the other.

_There was money to be made off the rich businessmen in Japan and if he played his cards right, many more thousands from overseas perverts who were just dying to take the panties off a teenage Japanese girl even if she was only a mecha_.

"Aww...I bet you can't do it."

"What'd you say!"

"I bet." Kisuke grinned, slowly stroking the impassive android. "You can't make Rukia feel and react just like a hot-blooded woman."

Mayuri spun around in soundless fury.

The bet was on.

...

Nemu grew somewhat worried when her dinner came late. The fare being a return to almost raw instant ramen. She hadn't seen Rukia since the morning and her father had been tight-lipped as to the android's whereabouts, only that he was fixing a burnt out sector in her mainframe.

The other troubling development, was that Kisuke Urahara had popped in to say hello.

The daughter of Kurotsuchi shared the same opinion of the odious man as her father but remained polite to his queries.

She was only relieved when he left.

...

He worked late throughout the night.

Ire at the suggestion of incompetence sending him into an almost frenzy as he modified the fake tissues around the android's vagina, adding in built in liquid ducts to release special synthetic fluid when her labia swelled. Heat sensors to react and warm the flesh in strategic points and finally a larger bosom (only a little more) with coral pink nipples that hardened as his fingers touched them.

In the early morning hours, Mayuri stepped back, surveying Rukia 2.0 with a duller sense of accomplishment. The emotion chip in her main symantec sensors had been spur of the moment, but required to reconfigure the sexual pulses.

Now all that was needed was to turn her back on. He sighed, fatigue stealing into his body as he stepped closer to the table. She lay on her back, legs spread, her pussy lips tightly compressed yet buttery soft like a real woman's flesh when his gloveless finger slipped in. Mayuri felt faintly surprised at how snug her flesh felt..._how wonderful it would feel to his penis being sucked in_...

He scowled at his previous thought. Pushing against her labia almost coldly as he sought and found the button. Rukia's eyes flickered from black stasis to violet-blue alertness.

"Mayuri-sama." She almost purred, her eyes tilting down to him.

He withdrew, disliking the sensual curl to her voice.

"She's done!"

Kisuke came immediately. Grinning widely as he entered through the side door and found Rukia with her legs spread on the table.

"Perfect!"

Mayuri picked up a clipboard containing his test sheet and a pen, waving a hand. "Test her out."

"Don't mind if I do." Kisuke said too happily for his friend's taste. Without preamble, he went straight to the table and plunged his fingers in her vaginal cavity.

Mayuri checked several things off as the minutes lengthened.

Aftre a short while, Kisuke straightened, glancing over to him. "Hey, maybe there's something wrong with your circuitry work. She's dry as a bone! Didn't you say you had added ducts to release pussy juice?"

Annoyed that even one process was insulted, he glowered heavily. "Yes, I did. Preliminary tests shown any insertion into the vaginal cavity would result in immediate release of lubricant laced with human pheromones."

"Are you sure about that?" Kisuke stepped back, showing his dry fingers.

Mayuri rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Yes, I am! Perhaps your supposed animal magnetism has worn off with age, Urahara."

The other laughed. "Very cute. Maybe you should try her out yourself while I go pick us up some dinner, my tab, from the city."

"You get on out." Mayuri muttered, not caring on what he put into his mouth. After Urahara had left, he paced around the table where the android lay, scowling.

What was wrong? Had he miscalculated something? He was sure he'd designed her fluid ducts to react to pressure and the warmth of human flesh. Mayuri stopped and stared down at her, Rukia stared back innocently.

Had something malfunctioned?

As much as he despised the idea of testing his own creation, Mayuri ran a hand through his short blue locks, severely displeased. He supposed it was necessary.

But, he didn't like her eyes so open and clear, staring up at him.

"Close your eyes and keep them closed unless I order otherwise."

"Yes, Mayuri-sama." Rukia intoned, closing them obediently. Once that was done, he slipped his lab coat to the side, perching on the edge of the large table, hovering over her still form. Rukia's legs had remained spread like a whore's but none of her juices had oozed out from Urahara's manhandling.

Mayuri plunged one finger in without another thought, finding the same disturbing sensations only increasing in his being as before. Rukia's flesh was smooth, heating around his long slender digits. A vague sound echoed in her throat when he added two fingers, swirling them around, stroking her tiny clit with no gentleness.

Wetness gushed around his fingers.

Something deep inside his stomach twisted, clenching. It was a sensation he hadn't experienced in almost twenty years. _Lust_. His gaze remained fixated on the flushed flesh, her labia swelling, jutting out like miniature penis. Her cavity was wider and softer than most women, pussy lips designed to provide minimal suction like living muscle to lightly clench a man's organ. His gaze traveled to her round breasts, seeing her nipples rockhard and pants escaping her breath-lacking metal alloy lungs.

"Moan for me, Rukia." Mayuri said quietly, feeling his pants tighten as the android's delicate lips parted, sounds of pleasure leaving her vocal box.

In the distance, he heard the sound of the front door banging shut, Urahara's cheerful whistle right after.

He withdrew, knowing the android was built to last six hours of sex and masturbated in the corner of the lab furious with himself.

...

"There is nothing wrong with Rukia 2.0." He commented over Chinese take-out. Trust Urahara to be as cheap as his hat.

"Oh? So you tried her out then?" Kisuke asked, interested.

Mayuri sent him a cold glare as Nemu whom had joined them, glanced curiously from either man.

"We'll speak of this later."

...

"Nemu, what is...love?"

The girl glanced up from the book of advanced physics she was perusing to the android who stood at the window seat, folding blouses.

Surprise colored Nemu's expression. "It's...a wonderful feeling. Like you would do anything for that person, like you feel breathless being near them and in their absence feel pain. It's of being fully alive and giving part of yourself to them. Why?"

Rukia's violet-blue eyes remained fixated something viewable from the window.

Nemu could've almost have said there was...emotion in her perfect tiny features.

"Do you believe everything is worthy of this love?"

"Y-Yes."

"I see." Rukia said flatly, as Mayuri disappeared from the gates.

...

He eventually got the odious man to leave with a lie of a promise to consider building five true models for experimental sale.

Not that he had any thoughts to do so...not many.

Expenses were growing and the Uni rejected his thesis yet again.

One evening, he was reviewing the notice of payment statements down in the library, when someone crept up behind him and lightly leaned against his bent back.

"Retsu-" He caught himself in time. The weight was too different, the body lacking true warmth. Instead of disappointment, he felt something else he refused to accept. _He wanted to lean into the android's embrace_.

"Rukia." More coldly.

The android leaned around, tilting her head at a coquettish angle in his face.

"Mayuri-sama...do you require anything?"

"No."

"Do you require..." Rukia backed off, for that he was glad of.

"Comfort?" Clothing rustled.

He turned in his chair to stare at her invitation. Rukia had draped herself over the other armchair, lifting her skirt over her legs and spreading them. Images of her soft, flushed flesh blossoming to his penis made the scientist breathe harder and turn away almost angrily.

"Who taught you such a thing?"

"Urahara-san. He said I was built to comfort you and that was how to do it."

_That perverted bastard!_ Mayuri was out of his chair before he had even realized it, taking the last few steps, he drew his hand across her face violently.

"Don't you ever do that again!"

She fell to the floor, a heap in black and white ruffles.

"You're just a machine! A non-entity made of circuits and wires! I don't love-"

She didn't move.

Mayuri gripped his fists and strode out of the room never finishing his sentence.

...

_But, Urahara-san said_...

Rukia's circuits were wired to intake information and reason it by logical standards.

_I was built to comfort Mayuri-sama and to...to_...

"Does not compute." Her basic internal sensors flashed red. Her cheek remained pressed to the aubusson rug. Lights flickered on and off in her eyes. Tear ducts had never been built into her eyes nor had any internal chest device been installed, so why did some unknown pain assault the metal structure of her breastbone?

Why did dark stains trickle from her eyes?

"Does not compute..._love_." Rukia 2.0 murmured, her circuits overloading.

Her eyes dimmed as internal sensors were overrided.

Oil leaked out even as she shut down, instead of tears.

_I do not deserve this love because I am not human_.

...

He awoke, neck stiff, back bent over lab papers. Vaguely disoriented, Mayuri glanced around the morning light streaming in the narrow vented windows running over the east wall. The house was silent but that wasn't surprising.

Rukia 2.0 was made to be silent.

Unworriedly, he brushed off any sensation resembling regret at having slapped the robot down. It wasn't as though she were human anyway, Mayuri reminded himself, beginning work on the battery circuitry pack to upgrade the android's old one.

For a time he worked in silence, never noticing the increasingly late hour.

Then a new sound came.

The squeak of wheels and a tentative voice from somewhere in the outer hallway.

"Father?"

"Yes, Nemu?" He remained bent over the microscope, probing the delicate wires with a plastic-coated needle. It was only natural to assume Rukia had at Nemu's request, taken her downstairs for something or other.

"Where is Rukia?"

Somewhat irritated, the scientist looked up from his work. "What do you mean? Isn't she-"

"I haven't seen her...since last night." Nemu finished quieter.

Mayuri snapped off his gloves and briskly went through the side door out into the hallway. There, in a bed jacket over her nightgown, Nemu sat, appearing subtly fatigued.

Despite the care required for his daughter, Mayuri kept the snap from his voice when he addressed her. "Now why are you out of bed? Why hasn't that damnable android-"

"Father," Nemu cut him off gently. "I noticed the late hour and got up unassisted. I took the elevator to the ground floor and came looking for you straight away."

At her words, a thought occurred to him.

One connected to the scene of the night before.

Mayuri strode past his daughter, hearing the squeal of the wheelchair as she followed him out into the main hall then to the doorway of the drawing room where he confirmed his suspicions.

"Rukia!" Nemu gasped, catching sight of the android lying on the floor beside the chair. "But, I don't understand, did her-"

"Her battery..." Mayuri began with difficulty, walking forward to drop down and kneel beside the crumpled heap of metal. "Must've failed. Total system shutdown."

He saw the stain on the rug beneath her face, a rupture of oil emulsion from her gears had leaked from her eyesockets..._like tears_.

...

It took one month to fully restore the burnt out components and reinstall basic software.

The one chip that remained intact out of all the behavioral, vocal, audio microchips was the emotions. Mayuri gazed at the green dotted chip, a connection of reasoning from that night to the glass-eyed android, something he refused to contemplate.

He reinserted it and turned the basic functions over to emotions to control the actions chosen by her CPU and when everything was all done.

Switched her back on.

Rukia's eyes opened.

Staring up at the ceiling for the longest time.

"Mayuri Kurotsuchi, creator." She said flatly and got up to dress.

...

For the better half of a week, he watched her move about the house.

Stiffer.

Less like a human and more with knees of ball-jointed metal.

Rukia showed no expression when Nemu placed a matching maid's hat with ruffles on her head, tying it beneath her chin. Nothing save for a blank _thank you_.

Mayuri began to wonder if the emotions chip had malfunctioned.

Perhaps her CPU after crashing had lost whatever it was that had made her..._so human-like_.

He tried to ignore the fact that he missed it.

Rukia was Rukia 2.0 an android.

Emotions even simulated ones were useless for her.

Not once during the long winter when he remained alone in the library did she make another reappearance like that night.

The scientist never failed to come up with an explanation for why he waited.

...

"I loathe that man so!" Nemu muttered when Kisuke Urahara returned.

Rukia never once looked up from the towels she was folding.

"Father's going to build more models like you for him." Nemu elaborated, reclining against her pillows.

Then the android responded, softly. So soft Nemu was never entirely sure of what had been said.

"...perhaps _they_ will know love."

...

Mayuri despised turning over the five models as promised to Kisuke.

_Bustier, big butts to accommodate large penises and huge dildos, frontally he corrected the main power switch, hairless mounds barely disguising large pussy lips that blossomed like flowers when arousal sensors were turned on. Mouth cavities designed for maximum pleasure in oral sex practices and pink-cheeked_.

They more resembled plastic dolls rather than the lifelike Rukia 2.0 for whom they were designed after.

"Many thanks, friend." Urahara said happily, handing over a cash advance. In explanation he grinned. "From Ichimaru corp. The head CEO pre-ordered one of these dollies."

Mayuri had heard of Gin Ichimaru and tried not to imagine Rukia 2.0 beneath the fox-like man.

...

He was passing by the closed door of Nemu's room when he caught a snippet of conversation.

"Have you ever felt...love, Rukia?"

"I do not know. However it is not something for me to understand, Nemu."

"Father designed your circuits to respond to logic. Is love so illogical that you fail to grasp its meaning?"

Mayuri waited for the response.

Rukia's almost human-like pause preceded a quieter tone.

"No. It does not exist for me."

...

The statement bothered him.

He could not say why.

Thinking it over, he rang the service bell, awaiting Rukia's arrival with impatience.

"You took a long time." Mayuri commented, his eyes narrowing the longer he gazed at her. Her expression was blank like her tone.

"Mayuri-sama, was there something you required?"

"Yes..I wish to check your optical sensors and run a diagnostics check on your CPU. Now undr-"

"Everything- the last check," she corrected herself without missing a beat. "Of my system scans, reported everything as functioning correctly. There is no-"

"You will do as I say." He ordered calmly though inside he felt anything but. "Remove your clothing-"

"No!" She snapped, anger suddenly twisting her features.

It was the first ounce of rebellion he had ever seen in the android. Startled though he was, by it, his anger grew.

"What did you say?" He advanced on her, towering over her. Rukia began to back up, her hands curling in the sides of her skirt. He tried to tell himself it was only the emotional response of fear built into her chip that caused her to react that way.

To flee like the pursued, to flail her fists lightly though she could've easily have hurt him had the basic coda not to harm humans not been built into every system command. Mayuri dragged her down to the floor, bracing his heavier weight atop her legs, grasping her wrists apart as liquid glistened in too large violet-blue eyes. Rukia's bonnet was askew, hair mussed...yet in that moment, she had never seemed more human.

The scientist's anger faded.

"You were not built...for any purpose save to exist, Rukia."

She had no chest apparatus in which to simulate the beating of a heart.

"Not for my pleasure, nor for my comfort. You are...a machine."

Only metal lungs with chrome alloy lining and many tubes to expand with air and compress like breath. Mayuri recalled every step of her creation and lightly brushed his thumb over her cheek.

"...you _shouldn't_ know how to love."

His lips lightly pressed to her sealed ones.

_Chastely_.

"I...I...l-love you, Mayuri-sama."

He released her hands.

Slender arms crept up, tiny fingers slid through his vivid dark blue locks.

"Pl-please l-l-let me be with you for as long my circuitry lasts."

_For I cannot give you the love you deserve_.

...

Years passed.

A Uni student boarded with them, by the name of Uryu Ishida. His father was a doctor in the neighboring city but in defiance, Uryu had chosen courses in the new field of Robotics.

Little by little, Rukia stayed more in the lab with Mayuri while Uryu wheeled Nemu around the gardens outside.

Mayuri would often shake his head, scowling at the bespectacled boy from the window.

...

Uryu graduated and asked for Nemu's hand in marriage.

Rukia noticed the faintest of graying in Mayuri's vivid blue hair, a fine span of wrinkles across his skin constantly present unlike before when it was only when he frowned.

She checked her own face in a mirror one day and found nothing but smooth flawless flesh.

_Was this what the humans called aging? _

...

He grudgingly accepted Uryu's third proposal.

Nemu Kurotsuchi's wedding was held in the spring.

Even Kisuke Urahara was invited (reluctantly though the invitation was sent) and attended, toasting the bride and groom.

Mayuri was the least happiest, leaning upon a cane rather than Rukia's shoulder when the picture was taken.

...

With the money invested wisely from the sale of the androids, a small cottage was built on the other end of the property. Uryu gradually took on more of the workload with only minor revisions by _Professor Kurotsuchi_ as he was respectfully called now by the new board director, Yamamoto having passed several years before.

Advanced Robotics was booming and he was finally getting the credit he deserved.

...

Rukia watched the scientist age, quietly stopping her regular diagnostic checks.

Mayuri had never trusted Uryu to do it and only asked her once in a while if her CPU drivers were running fine.

She lied that she checked it once a week.

...

Then, time had simply run out.

"Leave me, Ishida."

"But, sir-"

Dull yellow eyes glared and the son in law hung his head, backing out. Rukia left Nemu in the next room and entered, going straight to her creator's bedside.

"Mayuri-sama, your heart rate has decreased by ten percent."

"I know." He muttered. "Everything's failing dammit! You don't have to recite every little thing that I know already, do you?"

She stayed silent.

He was almost seventy. Age crinkled the corners of his once piercing eyes, his hawk-like nose remained the same, lips compressed tightly in a frown as she studied him.

"Rukia, I want you to take care of Nemu when I'm gone."

She said nothing.

"I don't trust that boy-" he broke off, wheezing.

"Mayuri-sama, Ishida-san is in his thirties already."

"Don't care..." The old scientist muttered feebly. "I'm never going to live to see my grandchild and she's all I got...except for you."

She took his hand silently.

"So, you hear me? I'm ordering you...my last order...take care of Nemu for me...I..never thought before I'd run out of time. It was always about knowledge, knowing how everything worked...but you.."

Her fingers tightened as though willing him not to slip away.

"You remain perfect. I thought I had all the time in the world for you to be by my side...but I guess I was mistaken in that one thing. Rukia..."

Her audio sensors strained to hear the scientist's last words.

_"I love you."_

For the second time in her existence, the android felt broken.

For two hours she sat, holding his cold hand until Uryu came and coaxed her to comfort his wife.

Rukia shed no tears, for she was a robot and could not cry.

...

"Are you...sure about this, Rukia?" Nemu had dried her tearstains, wearing a loose white lab coat over her mourning attire.

The maid android seemed even tinier in the large laboratory. Uryu stood at the countertop, filling the hyperdermic needle with a nano virus he had synthesized especially for her advanced programming.

"It'll wipe out your entire mainframe so you won't be able to be rebooted. Are you sure you want this?" Nemu prodded, taking the capped needle from her husband.

"It'll be...kind of like death, correct?"

Nemu glimpsed the loss reflected in the glassy violet-blue orbs and suppressed her own tears. "...Yes. It will be."

Rukia tried to smile, "good. That is what I...want then." She had never asked for anything except to stay by Mayuri's side for as long as her circuits remained operable. Now that he was gone, she wanted to try and go there too.

Uryu motioned for her to turn.

Nemu leaned forward, fighting her own tears away.

_First her father then her companion for the better part of her life_.

Rukia felt the ghost of the sharp needle above her sensitive skin and felt there was one more question that needed to be asked.

"Nemu, do you think I can go to Heaven too?"

Nemu's hand shook, "yes," she answered swiftly.

The nanobytes erased everything.

...

During Mayuri's funeral there was one member of the tiny household conspicuously missing. Urahara noted the android's absence and commented on it with a sly offer of one hundred thousand dollars for a refurbished version of the original Rukia 2.0

Nemu politely declined.

Rukia's outer shell had been made to last for well over a human's lifespan and was as such too heavy to be placed in Mayuri's casket. Instead, her memory card had been reserved and placed in his folded hands over his heart; her metal alloy frame rebuilt into a different model as a nanny for Nemu's coming child..._fulfilling her creator's last order._

-Finis

AN: Okay. I've just got loose tear ducts alright? *was so not crying into coffee cup right now* surreptitiously wipes tears. Thanks for reading! It was between ShuheixRukia and this one (this one won out b/c it needed to be written! D:

No flames!

:D reviews loved!


	38. The Hellbound Heart

AN: Enjoy :-)

Pairing: KokutoxRukia

Rating: M

Title: The Hellbound heart

Summary: What if Ichigo had been taken to S.S for tighter surveillance, what if during that time, the hell gate resealed and trapped his friends in Hell, leaving them to become sinners? AU movie ending

* * *

The pain came first. A thousand different sensations of agony ripped throughout her being. Rukia felt like she was floating, burning being torn apart in a sea of blackness. She tried crying out but made no sound. Now the fire was inside her, pouring down her throat, scorching her insides. Her hands flailed uselessly at her sides, her mind numbing quickly from the pain sought anything, an image, a memory to cling onto.

Then one resurfaced.

Not of Ichigo vanishing with Yuzu in the burst of light.

But, of that man. The sinner- the one whom had proved untrustworthy to the very end and betrayed them with a sword through the body.

Even with the torments around her, Rukia grasped onto the image of his smirking face and screamed in anger, clawing at the air. The darkness rippled into molten lava, sloshing forward onto the ground, she was pitched wet, naked onto the hard ground. Gagging at the burning bile at the back of her throat, she pushed herself into an upright position, hearing nothing but quiet all around. A glowing light soon appeared over her, enveloping her torso, a white yukata clothed yet as her hand pressed to her heart she discovered a long length of black chain protruding from her chest.

"Like a sinner's." Said the voice from whom she despised the most at that moment. Spinning about, Rukia glared at the man's form, indolently seated on a shelf of rock. Kokuto had revealed the deep burn scars covering half his face, she stared at them now, wondering if she had any of the same on her body.

"You killed us." She accused, wishing she had her sword. Kokuto matched her stare, almost haughtily, "yes..now you belong to Hell as well." He leaned back, folding one arm lightly over his chest with the other gesturing the huge skeletal tree above them. "That was some fancy trick you're friend played. Almost got myself out of here, but he had to go and ruin it."

She hid her grim smile. So it hadn't been a dream. Ichigo and Yuzu had gotten away. Rukia hoped the little girl was alright. "What did you aim for? A sinner can never be cleansed of his sins, you least of all." Physically she still felt weak yet even if he chose to retaliate and attack, she would just be revived again.

"Oh-ho. Is that bitterness, I detect, little Shinigami?"

Rukia averted her gaze to the ground far below. The rocky plain was still pocked with scars from the recent battle. She refused to give Kokuto the satisfaction of seeing her misery so plainly on her face. "It's not 'little Shinigami'." Rukia muttered, shifting so that she could sit upright, clasping her knees. The heavy chain clinked as it coiled against her clothed abdomen. Rukia wondered distastefully if it would continue to lengthen.

"Oh...that's right. We were never properly introduced. I'm Kokuto, as you know. Now what's your name, little Shinigami?"

"None of your business!" She snapped, she was damned if she was going to be polite to the asshole after what he had done. The rock shifted, rustling. A slight chuckle. She could feel his gaze on her. "Spitfire. Perhaps you'll last. It like your spirit will refused to be crushed by Hell's will. If Kurosaki doesn't come back, then I look forward to an eternity of entertainment from you."

His words spoken so casually angered her. "I'm not a sinner, you bastard!" Rukia cried, spinning about only to find he had moved silently, swiftly and knelt now in front of her. Kokuto's good violet-colored orb stared fiercely into hers, Rukia twisted away from him, repulsed. His arm snaked out then, catching the length of chain, yanking her forcefully forward until they were only inches apart.

"Then as a Shinigami you have not killed?"

Rukia swallowed with difficulty, her repulsion of the man making her skin recoil as she could feel the heat of his body, the burning hotness of his hand tightly gripping the chain (it was now a part of her) every little sensation brought a frustrated scream to her lips and her weak hands to shove at his chest in disgust.

"Get away from me!"

Somewhat surprised, he released her, watching amused as Rukia backscrabbled away.

"Repulsive to you, eh?" He leered. "You're the first woman I've seen in a long time."

At his words, she felt around discreetly for something, anything to defend herself with.

He laughed at her reaction. "Don't worry. Not that you've got the goods or anything!"

She flung a handful of grimy grey pebbles at him.

Kokuto laughed harder deflecting them easily.

_How dare he taunt her!_ Rukia glared impotently, wishing words were swords and not just harmless nuances to throw at the sinner. She could feel very little reiatsu about herself, so little in fact that she didn't dare attempt Kido even knowing it would be useless.

"But, then I guess.." his voice made her lift her head, raise startled eyes to the place where he had just been then jolt as his hard chest and faintly sulfuric scented arms went around her. Kokuto drew her back until her body was pillowed against him, her chin tilting by instinct, turning subtly to the left to look behind her shoulder when his smirking face appeared close- closer.

They were nearly eye to eye.

"Sinners can't be choosers." He whispered, slanting his mouth on hers in a harsh, passionless kiss. It seemed to last an eternity of her soul-shrinking away from the corruption aligned against her back. A moment of drowning in suffocating darkness, she felt boneless in his grasp. Easily crushable yet there in every sensation. Kokuto eventually released the pressure against her sealed lips. Withdrawing to hover over her, expressionless.

Rukia couldn't fail but see her opportunity to get away. Shoving at his arms, she broke the circle of his hold and scrambled away on her hands and knees. Kokuto made no move to stop her, motionless save for one tiny brush of his fingertips against his mouth that she never saw.

Away, on the far side of the plateau of rock, Rukia gazed up at Renji and Ishida's lifeless bodies bound by chains, suspended to dangle far above the plain. She was the first to become a sinner...did that mean she truly belonged in Hell?

There was no one to answer her question.

No one to call her 'midget-san' no warmth, no comfort only bleak hate.

Rukia thought of Hell's will, the terrible skeletal guardians and wondered when they would come to torture her.

...

When Kokuto cut Renji down into the pit of boiling lava only to reemerge with the length of chain protruding from his chest, they shared mutual looks.

Ichigo was safe...even if their cost was great.

Ishida next, coughing and spluttering, as naked as the day he was born. The Quincy took a more philosophical view on their predicament, one Renji and Rukia agreed upon. They should stay away from the reborn Shuren and cronies except the moment they carefully climbed down to the level ashen ground it started rumbling ominously and Rukia swore she saw huge grey fingers poke through the topsoil.

Shuren laughed at their grim faces when they climbed back up the stone. Kokuto said nothing, only remained at the edge of the boulders, staring moodily off into the distance. Freedom had been so narrowly his, yet their intervention had lost him the chance.

Probably forever, Rukia thought, keeping an eye on where Renji was. She was sure Kokuto didn't suspect it of being both of them, ignoring her since the...incident after her emergence. Rukia didn't stop to label that...that assault a ..._kiss_. Just thinking about it made her blood boil and long to shove his too tall ass right back into the boiling inferno. _If only he would stay in there._

But even she knew better than to try it. Kokuto was too unpredictable. Too malicious. Though she longed to be away from the place of her second death, it seemed to cross the plain to get to the higher levels of Hell would mean crossing paths with that of Hell's will. Ishida would ask her every little while it seemed if her spiritual powers were coming back?

Each time she would shake her head disappointingly.

She couldn't even guess how long it would be until she was able to summon her Zanpaku-to again. It was possible as they had witnessed with Kokuto and the powers the other Togabito had.

Just then in the middle of her thoughts, Ishida walked up to the edge where she sat, legs swinging over the edge. Heights had never frightened her and there was a sort of illusionary security when the vista remained free of the gargantuan monstrosities of the guards.

"Kuchiki-san..." Ishida crouched down beside her. "Nothing?"

Rukia was getting tired of hearing the same question, the same hope recited over and over in the dull sulfuric air. "No, nothing." Then because it was customary already. "You?"

Ishida shook his dark head, reaching up a hand to reaffix his glasses. As he did so, a fleshy ribbling sound caused him to turn and glance over his shoulder. The pasty-faced Hellion, Taikon, blew him a kiss. Ishida momentarily sickened, looked quickly back around, "Kuchiki-san...we must get away from here."

"I know that, but-"

Ishida's light clasp around her upper arm halted her hesitation. "Kuchiki-san, I don't quite know how to tell you this, but Abarai-san and I agree...we have to get to one of the upper levels." With Renji's name, she fell silent, realizing they had been talking over things without her. Lowering her gaze, Rukia scanned the drop below and then farther out and up to the sky.

"Is it possible?" she murmured softly.

"We have to _try_." The Quincy said in shades of determination of Ichigo. Rukia felt a glimmer of light touch her soul at the recollection of that orange-haired idiot. Ishida was right, it was better than to do nothing at all. As her old optimism started to flow, the quincy helped her to her feet, whispering something else that caused momentary confusion to cloud her feelings.

"Also..Abarai may not have noticed, but ...I don't like the way _he_ looks at you."

"Huh?" She turned to study his stony profile. "Ishida, what do you-"

But he shook his head swiftly to indicate this was not the place.

...

She soon forgot about the enigmatic sentence.

There was the race across the ashen land.

There was the dodging of the huge fists and skeletal faces, that left little room for conversation.

The one thing she did notice that before they left Shuren's lair, Renji nor Ishida left her side again.

Shuren called them fools for not joining up with him. Like idiots, the other three Togabito agreed with snickering laughs. Still only Kokuto remained silent never glancing at them.

She supposed he was still mourning the loss of his escape.

...

"Where do you think you're going?"

The backs of three sinners had vanished into the grey land.

Even so, he could still sense them at a distance away. Kokuto knew that to catch up he'd have to hurry.

"None of your business."

"Those Shinigami aren't going to welcome you." Shuren said matter of factly. Taikon piped up with a wide grin. "Yeah, yeah! Don't forget delectable Quincy-kun!"

"I'm not looking for companionship." Kokuto responded acidly with a smirk. "I'm looking to use them. You know what I want."

_Freedom_.

The smaller male broke the stare first, his gaze slanting off to the side. "Whatever. Go if you want." Shuren pretended he was King, even if it was only on a plateau of rocks and semi-intelligence that had kept his soul from being crushed.

Kokuto rewrapped the black scarf around his face, twining it about his neck tightly.

_He was only slightly surprised Shuren didn't want a __**queen**_.

...

They rested on the huge petals of the lotus.

Soaked to the skin, exhausted in all ways, Rukia couldn't resist smiling in what felt like an eternity.

They had made it without injury, without being dragged into the melting pot of Hell.

Ishida pushed his glasses up further on his nose, a habit since his quincy bracelet had vanished along with any trace of his spiritual powers. "Well, should we continue on or what?"

Renji yawned widely, settling his clasped hands on his stomach. "Search me. Though I find it pretty comfortable- well as comfortable 'spose as Hell could be, right here."

Ishida glanced to Rukia whom shrugged, unable to hide her grin. "He's right. We never encountered any of Hell's will on this level so by far it's on the peaceful side."

He still looked slightly uneasy, attempting to smile anyway. "Maybe you're right."

She settled back down, her head pillowed by her hair. "We're far away enough from _them_, like you wanted, Ishida. Try to relax for a minute!" With her simple scold, he tried to feel the lightheartedness she felt, yet couldn't shake his anxiety.

Something was there with them in that watery plain.

_Something_...without his heightened senses and the miasmic air constantly flowing around them, he could barely discern the faint trace of. Ishida stayed awake, taking on guard duty without questions while the other two fell into uneasy light slumbers.

The feeling never increased nor left.

...Living world...

The blue sky possessed a taint to it.

Jushiro Ukitake barely noticed. He hovered far above the humans going about their daily lives, at the perimeter the kido casters maintained around the Hell gate.

He thought of those still in the bleak world.

_Rukia...Abarai-kun and that friend of Ichigo's_.

It was sealing up, little by little.

Swallowing up those who were still trapped.

He tried to think it was for the good of all, Kuchiki-taichou seemed to think so. Rukia and Abarai-kun were honorable Shinigami they had done what they thought was right in sending Ichigo with his sister back through the gate, they themselves staying behind.

A slight figure in black hovered from the corner of his eye.

"Sir, preparations have been made for Kurosaki Ichigo-san's immediate removal into Second Division's custody."

The woman's name escaped him, just one of many officers gathered into a convoy to deal with the emergence of the Hell gate into the living world.

"Very well." He glanced one last time at the gate, sealing up his emotions.

_Rukia was lost to the living and ...the dead now_.

...Hell...

"How long...have we been here?" Ishida's voice wafted over them. Rukia stared up at the sky- the beginning of another level and frowned. The smell...it was of water but there was a sulfuric tint to it. She could never get used to it.

"Search me," Renji muttered, blasé as always. The redhead had his arms propped beneath his head, staring up at the same sky as she. It was vaguely lovely, an element of paradoxical beauty in the hellish world of sinners.

"A month, I think." Rukia eventually replied. Languidly. though she despised inaction. Vagueness as well. It was getting harder and harder to remember a blue sky, the wind on a moonlit night or that simple mystery of a juicebox.

Idly, she wondered if her nii-sama had appointed a new Fukutaichou...

If Yuzu-chan was alright...

They were useless musings, without a voice to answer them. Far removed from the light of Karakura's sun or Seireitei's orders.

She missed it.

...

Ishida watched Kuchiki-san drift off into fitful slumber.

Abarai too had dropped his guard.

Distantly screams reached them from another level, Hell's will torturing the damned. Sooner or later the given was that the massive guards would find them in the tiny false utopia. He didn't like to speak of the obvious though it hung over their heads constantly, a threat of being champed by grinding teeth, spat into the boiling furnace and awakening again to relive it all. It was a horrid sort of existence to ponder, one that would go on more infinity according to the Togabito.

He pushed the glasses up further on his nose.

While logic demanded a simple solution to their situation, Ishida's tired mind couldn't supply one even barring somehow they'd make it past the guards...was it even possible to break open the gate?

Questions and more questions he had no answer for.

Perhaps even that sense he'd maintained since their sojourn was nothing more than an overwrought mind.

And in that state of thought, Ishida drifted off warily into sleep.

His, were on the whole uneasy dreams.

...

They slept, fools they were.

Sneer though he might, reckless it was to slumber so deeply in Hell's cradle; the emotion his stunted heart felt might've been once akin to envy. Invidia. A deadly sin was it not? Yet the very modicum of greed, of painful fastening longing came from the very action of watching them, a group of three almost pitiful false-Togabito, sleep.

Not with a sense primed for flight from hell's will.

But with a grain of the sandman's sand, not a one felt him climb up into the bowl of the huge lotus.

None save for the tiny Shinigami.

A murmur, a flicker of unease as one felt when there was something repulsive nearby. Kokuto thought she was perhaps the most sensitive out of the three. Foolish still, foolish like an innocent lamb, arms at her sides, hair pillowing her head. Rukia Kuchiki slumbered with a slight rise to her narrow chest, a subtle murmur, a flicker of that same deep-seated repulsion.

It fascinated him.

What was a sinner's malevolence to the fine-boned creature lying helpless like a lamb to be slaughtered? He had spoken the truth when he had said of the few dried up husks of women, Rukia Kuchiki possessed none of the voluptuousness of her ginger-haired friend in the living world.

She was only delicate.

Only tiny.

There was only a modicum of male left in his body, a reminder of flesh and the hungers that came along with it. It seemed a joke and a bad one at that, to imagine that he was aroused at the sight of the sleeping lamb.

Such pleasures of the flesh were of the human world.

He was satisfied with her disgust as it was so evident when he drew as nearest as dared and caught the scent of..._purely driven snow_.

...

Her eyes fluttered open.

With a start, she sat up, her gaze sweeping their surroundings.

Ishida and Renji.

Just Ishida and Renji.

No one else.

Rukia rubbed at her arms, feeling the flesh crawl.

Had that been a dream...that feeling of being watched?

...Seireitei...

Byakuya Kuchiki had little opinion on things.

Hell's gate had sealed up.

The damage to the living world repaired with time.

Memorial services were privately held by the mourners in Soul Society for the lost. He did not attend only kept vigil beside Hisana's picture, reiterating how her sister had been a very honorable Shinigami until the end.

The one aspect of burying the memory of Rukia Kuchiki and Renji Abarai; he found distasteful was the permanent sealing of Ichigo Kurosaki's memories. For the good of all, for the life they had sacrificed to protect, it had to be done. Kurosaki couldn't remember how his friends had saved him for then the knowledge would also burden him down knowing they had remained in Hell to do so.

Kurosaki's father gave them the okay.

Yoruichi Shihoin and Kisuke Urahara supervised the secret binding in Soi Fong's Division.

Byakuya lived with lies.

Kurosaki shouldn't have had to with a made up history.

Many times, Byakuya thought it with the passage of the first year. It was with honor, he wished to have his sister be remembered by, not half-buried with lies. More years passed. Kurosaki took the formal exam and became his Fukutaichou; Abarai's replacement- Kakuzawa had been no more a fit then Tetsuzaemon Iba would've been to Sixth Division.

Byakuya wasn't happy.

But, then who was?

Save for Kurosaki with his attitude and no memories?

...Living world...

Ryuken remembered it had been his son's choice.

No, his choice as a parent to let his son do what he wanted- whether for good or ill. A parenting style much scrutinized yet a-similar to Isshin Kurosaki.

Now sonless, Ryuken fed the lies around him.

Sympathies of a son lost in a faked accident.

A suit of nice clothes burnt, ashes laid to rest beside Mrs. Ishida.

The house was silent now.

He ate take-out, the empty kitchen with gleaming pots just another memory to avoid.

Ryuken rarely went to the cemetery.

There was no solace there.

The years passed.

Ryuken once was hailed at a street corner by Isshin. To the other doctor's greeting, he shook it off with a brusqueness from his snowy head, eyes still piercing despite their age.

"There is nothing for us to say to each other anymore." He said to Kurosaki's dumbfounded look of idiocy. Ichigo Kurosaki lived a lie in death's realm, while his own son was in Hell.

_Now wasn't that nice?_

...Hell...

Ishida stopped asking how long they had been there when Rukia replied with a trace of irritation that she didn't know.

_Days maybe. _

_Years for all she knew_.

She thought secretly it had been years. Ten to be exact. A decade of running, of grasping bony grey fingers when they had made the mistake of traveling to the first layer of Hell. She missed the water of the lotus level, the tranquil beauty masking the ugliness.

Renji was caught.

Ishida next.

Rukia spent a fortnight alone huddled on the side of a building with only her fears to keep her company.

They returned ragged.

She knew better than to ask what they had gone through.

Their eyes alone were proof enough of the suffering.

She tried not to let their faces fall too much.

It became a sort of game.

Who could run the fastest to the edge of the misshapen buildings.

Rukia had always been faster than anyone in their old childhood district. A fact that she teased Renji about constantly until he grumbled at her and grinned again. Ishida was harder to cheer up. She knew he was better though when light flashed on his glasses and he shook his head at their banter with a vague smile.

She always made it to a certain mark before Hell's will came crashing up through the stone.

Enough to feel its rankness pass over her in a wafting cloud, enough for her skin to crawl at the hideousness of the skeletal giant then turn around and run back. Back to Renji's relieved scowl avoiding clawing fingers and flying bits of debris.

She was always faster_...always_.

...

Then, one day...she wasn't.

It was a stone that did it. A piece of rubble that she caught her foot on in flawed execution. Then, Rukia was falling, slamming hard to the stone pathway. Renji yelled from afar but not even his panic was enough to quell her own fear as the large fingers moved slowly toward her.

She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain and the licking flames to burn away her skin.

Instead, there was cloth, a body, hands shoving her back.

The scent of her savior was familiar.

Like a half-remembered bitterness on her tongue.

A far scream echoed and died away in the throat of Hell's will. Soon enough, Renji and Ishida had skated up and were pulling her to her feet, away from the scene of her almost fall.

"Did you guys see that?" -Renji, wide-eyed.

Ishida urged them on deeper into the shadows.

They were closer now, closer than they'd ever been to the edge. Rukia still dazed, trailed with them, still held by their hands on her arms. But, that other touch, that sensation of being set aflame with the lightest touch of those fingertips was all she could remember.

"It was Kokuto!" Ishida hissed, "so he's still around as I suspected."

Renji was alarmed then, "that bastard! But, then...Rukia...why?"

She emerged long enough to glimpse her two companions look toward her with some emotion she couldn't understand mirrored in both.

Ishida broke the stare first, "from now on, Kuchiki-san. Stay close to us-"

Her only rebuttal to that was by habit.

Foolish habit it was.

"I can take care of myself!" With a haughty scoff.

...

Indeed she could.

Or so Rukia continuously told herself.

Belief was a blind thing, hard won, prevalent like blood in her veins, like the beat of her heart.

She wasn't afraid of anything.

In silence they had trudged back to the Lotus level. It was empty, quiet, devoid of anything save for almost surrealistic beauty. In silence again they dropped down into the basin, weighed down by things unspoken, by the unknowns about everything.

She slept first as always, her mind too tired to solve what her companions mulled over.

She only affirmed to herself, dropping off into the oblivion of dreamless sleep that she could take care of herself. She never felt them vanish only knew it when she awoke...alone.

...

Rukia searched the entire level, refusing to give into panic.

_They were alright...they had to be...but why would Ishida and Renji leave her like that when hadn't they told her explicitly not to leave...?_

Questions and more questions.

None she possessed the answer to.

Inactivity unsettled her. Rukia got up then and paced, the motion calming her nerves. She was on the point of giving in to the nervous fatigue of her body when a sound came from nearby- behind her - a step.

She froze.

"Why so frightened, Kuchiki-san?"

The voice sent chills across her skin.

She knew it along with the man's scent, masculine, unclean. It blossomed behind her, body of hard flesh and worn cloth pressing against her back, muscular arms wrapping around her preventing her escape.

"Koku..Kokuto!" She hissed, stiffening when he rocked against her, lifting her smaller frame up and into his arms. Her heart raced with the uncomfortable proximity of his face and chest. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Hell?" he laughed unpleasantly. "And what do you think you're doing, Kuchiki-san? Whom are you looking for? I had Shuren and the others occupy your friends."

"Why! You bastard!" She tried to keep her fear from showing.

"...now who is being the idiot?" He cooed in her face. "So, _we_ can be alone."

"N-No. You said- you said I-"

"That was before." He said dismissively. "I've been watching you, Kuchiki-san. For the last decade of your stay, I've watched you from a distance. You and you're little foibles. Your cheap words and tiny smiles. You may not realize it, Kuchiki-san, but you have a light so blinding that so far not even Hell can dim it." She shuddered when he caressed her cheek roughly.

"What is it about you, hmm?"

"I don't know."

"I wondered about the feeling I got when I kissed you-"

She slapped him hard. "That wasn't even a kiss, you fucking fool!" Then regretted it when his good violet eye swiveled back and stared her straight back. Was he going to hit her? Throw her off the lotus into the waiting hands of a guard?

"Oh, no then." Kokuto did none of what she feared. Lowering her to the ground, wresting her hands above her head, hovering over her, expressionless. "Perhaps this is what you call a kiss?" She wasn't prepared for the bruising pressure of his insistent mouth, the flick of his quick tongue against her bottom lip then sliding in. Wetly, hotly. It was unlike anything she had experienced before.

Rukia felt an inferno burning her, a sensation she directly blamed for the heavy weight of the man's body halfway on top of her. Breaking his hold on one wrist, her tiny hand snaked up, instead of pushing him away, tangled in the long white locks and urged him on. Instinctively she knew it was wrong to enjoy the sinner's kiss yet the moan burbled up from the innermost recesses of her heart.

Her lips pressed fervently against his, her tongue tangling in a fierce battle. Kokuto was even more ruthless, sucking her tongue into his mouth, angling his legs until his knee was pressed against her crotch. New, almost frightening sensations awakened with the pressure against her sensitive spot. Rukia broke the kiss, gasping desperately for air. Slightly flushed, Kokuto breathed into the tiny hollow of her neck, sending a thrill through her veins.

"I haven't felt anything like this...in such a long time." He lifted her up again, yet Rukia was slightly more compliant, twining her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. From her slumping position, she could feel the hardness jutting up beneath the worn kimono.

She hated herself for even thinking she wanted it.

For feeling even a frisson of sensation in her long -muted senses.

Rukia lusted in that moment.

She felt something other than despise or false bravado.

"You still disgust me," she said, when his hands deceptively gentle lowered her down. His violet eye possessed a glint to it, not the harsh coldness of a murderer but of something else.

"I know you do." Kokuto said softly, his smirk vanishing as he lavished her throat and body with heated kisses. Her submission was more voluntary, her moans more pronounced with angry glares when what she wanted was positioned between her thighs, then seconds before she gained the fulfillment she desired-

A ghost of a thought came to her.

He stopped when she wanted.

"What?" Languid like when they first met, uncaring. Huskier now. Rukia forced the fog of arousal, the dark waters she'd been slipping into, to rise above, stare fixedly into the face of the sinner, hoping he'd speak the truth.

"Why...did you save me?" She began with a heavy stone in her chest. "Before -?"

White hair framed his face, like a curtain hid the terrible burns covering half his face. His mouth smiled without joy like it always did. "You little fool." Kokuto murmured, leaning down, covering her lips with chapped ones that had a faint taste of sulfur on the edge.

There was a whisper even fainter, almost lost in the engulf of pleasure that crested and increased with each long stroke and thrust of manhood gliding deeply in her cavern, bidding only darkness to follow.

Even then, she was sure her mind deceived her,

- "_love_ " -

For it was only a love, a sinner could give.

-finis-

AN: Finally have some of ShuheixRukia written out somewhere, but had this one mostly finished in the docs and only today dug it out. Thanks for reading :)

No flames!

Reviews appreciated


	39. Kitty Cat

AN: In honor of my birthday today, I wrote this up! *enjoy!*

Title: Kitty Cat

Pairing: GrimmjowxRukia with slight ByaYoru and IchiRuki

Rating: T

Summary: If only they were human... That's what Rukia's pet cat wishes after watching his owner drift closer to an orange-haired punk at school. As fate would have it, Grimmjow gets his wish...for one night.

* * *

He met her on a rainy day - damned rain had plastered his sleek blue fur to spindly ribs and his tail couldn't even lift for a Halloween cat hiss when the petite dark-haired girl stopped at the street corner and tilted her umbrella aside long enough to eye the dilapidated box of free kittens.

Go figure.

He was the last. Having seen day after day his mewling, pouncing pathetic brothers and sisters be snatched up like hot potatoes by passing pedestrians. _How he wished he had a hot potato to gnaw on right now_...Grimmjow sufficed his wet, hungry state with a glower and a half-hearted angry mew to warn the girl off. He wasn't a softie like all those other idjits.

"Are you all alone, kitty?" The girl asked quietly, seeming to not take his point. Maybe he hadn't meowed hard enough. Grimmjow crept further into the shadows, until his backside met the soggy wall of cardboard. His furry face lifted from glaring at the wall to see a startling new development.

A hand was reaching in.

He considered swiping at the soft tiny hand that had known no hard work but stopped raising his paw when she added, "I'm alone like you." If he could've, he'd have raised a furry eyebrow. "Brother's always so busy...he says he never has time for me." The girl went on quietly, her head bowed. "So, what do you say, kitty?" Her mood changed abruptly. Grimmjow marveled at it and wondered if all humans were so changeable.

"Do you want to stay out here in the rain and cold or do you want to come with me and try it out?"

Never once did the word _be my pet_ cross her lips.

Grimmjow meowed long then hesitantly raised a paw and set it upon her fingertips, hoping she wasn't stupid enough to not realize the gesture was equal acquiescence. _Equal_. 'Cause damned if he was going to be someone's prissy pet.

The tiny girl in a corduroy jumper and boots lightly grasped his paw as if shaking it in a very human manner. Grimmjow was puzzled by it until she added softly, "I'm Rukia, kitty-san."

"Mreommwow." He tried to articulate. Translated: _Grimmjow_.

She blinked her almost painfully large violet eyes, or were they bluish? Grimmjow couldn't tell. "Let's get on home then." she said, lifting up his furry weight and settling it under her arm. Grimmjow hoped home meant at the very least, a hot meal.

* * *

The thing he didn't figure on even after seeing the lavish building and warm filtered air of the elevator ride up to the spacious apartment - was another man. A human male around late twenties and very handsome, Grimmjow assumed, by human standards. He was a dapper, narrow-eyed man with grey eyes and neatly coiffed black hair and Rukia called him _brother_.

So, this was the brother she was lamenting over.

Grimmjow in her arms glared at the man as the man glared back, matching the cool stare.

"Rukia," the man intoned, gaze still fixated on Grimmjow. "That thing is dripping water onto the rug." Grimmjow gave him a flat stare and hissed. Byakuya was blaming the water drips solely on him when Rukia was dripping puddles all the way from the main desk up.

The hiss did not go unheard by the doting Kuchiki brother.

"This animal seems feral. I'm sure Yoru-"

"He's not!" she immediately protested. "I carried him all the way home and he didn't bite or scratch me!" The elder cast his glance away around the sea-foam colored living room set, looking anywhere but at the pleading eyes sent his way.

"Fine." Byakuya finally assented with a forced note to his voice after Rukia started to launch into more admonitions. "The thing-"

"_He_ is a cat, brother."

Byakuya looked vaguely irritated. "The cat...must stay in the Guest bathroom until it is properly fumigated of its vermin." Grimmjow was sure the man meant quarantined. _Bastard_. Rukia beamed like sunshine suddenly and with a chipper thank you, bounded off with him deeper into the apartment. Grimmjow didn't forget to send a human-like sneer over her shoulder to _Bastard Byakuya_.

Leaving the man once alone again with spreadsheets, to wonder how a cat could sneer like a human...or maybe if he had simply imagined it?

* * *

That wasn't the last of his encounters with _Bastard Byakuya_.

True to her brother's law, Rukia had made a small bed in the corner of the marble guest bathroom, out of last winter's fur coat. Bathed - to his annoyance and semi-dried by central air, Grimmjow turned around six times kneading the plushy bed to just the right squishiness. The one thing missing ...was that he hadn't been fed.

Well, he had, if one counted the meager cup of dry kibbles Byakuya had sent around as a peace offering - Grimmjow suspected more for his sister's sake than _he the cat's_. The Science Diet kibbles had tasted like crap and vegetables mixed together. Grimmjow had eaten half the bowl before meowing his displeasure.

Rukia mistakenly thought he wanted water.

He sat back on his furry haunches and gave her a baleful stare.

She prepared his bed then.

He was ready to concede her intelligence wasn't high, but the fur coat was good. After the six turns, he curled up and kept one eye peeled at the girl still squatting a few feet away. Even he had to admit she was cuter than his former owner, Nelliel. But, that didn't mean he trusted her enough to fall asleep while she was watching.

"I bet...you're still hungry, huh, kitty-san?" Rukia murmured aloud, her gaze drifting to the half-heartedly eaten bowl of kibbles. She made a face abruptly. "How brother can feed Yoruichi-san that crap, I don't know."

Grimmjow's ears perked up. The Bastard had been on the verge of mentioning a Yoru- something, could it there was another animal in the house he'd have to fight over territory and food for? His teal eyes flickered open all the way, that thought was exciting. He hadn't fought over food since his brother Nnoitora used to tussle over milk.

Rukia brightened suddenly, darting up to her feet - towering over him. Grimmjow couldn't help the old defensive mechanism and stiffened with a _mreow_.

"I'll be right back." she said and slipped out into the sliver of darkened room he see could from the door. In no time at all, Rukia had returned with a generous chunk of roast beef and potatoes served on an expensive porcelain plate. Grimmjow grinned in a cattish way for the thought of Byakuya's face if he had been present.

* * *

In a week, Grimmjow was released from confinement - only because Byakuya was away on a business trip and to prove his stir-crazy kitty act, shredded the monogrammed K towels and the shower curtain. Rukia swatted him lightly on the backside but did no more than go out and patiently purchase more towels and a replacement shower curtain, leaving him the run of her room with a convenient litter box in the adjoining larger bathroom.

Her one fail was that she tried to call him - _Chappy_, after her favorite plush character. He thought the name was much too gay and would ruin his tough-kitty act. He spat at her and stalked off to investigate his litter box. Once the door closed and silence reigned in the empty apartment, he stalked back into the typical girly room and espied an open laptop in stationary mode atop the desk.

With a sprightly pounce, he was standing atop the tilted chair and trying to figure out which keys were which...

* * *

An hour later, Grimmjow surveyed his paw-work with pride.

The WORD DOC while being difficult to open, had been a perfect template for his name.

**Grimmjow** was now typed in cascading style all the way down.

In capital letters.

Just in time as he press-pawed the last line, he heard Rukia's keys rattle somewhere in the distance.

"Chappy!" she called.

He hated the name, his ears flattening.

"I got you something!"

He perked up, accidently pressing the katakana for Y.

It turned out to be a ball of yarn.

While he forfeited his night's tough kitty act and rolled on the floor with the ball of teal blue fuzzy strings, Rukia peered closely at the computer screen and the last thing typed.

"Grimmy?" she wondered aloud then glanced to him.

It stuck much to his chagrin.

* * *

It wasn't long before he met the other resident of the Kuchiki household other than repeated swats by Byakuya's rolled up newspaper.

_Yoruichi_. The name belonged to a long, lean elegant black female cat with mischievous yellow-green eyes and a smirk that was somehow human-like on her whiskery mouth. _This woman_ - Grimmjow immediately dubbed her, lived and ate in Byakuya's private office and even had a Leopard-print miniature sofa bed in his room.

She was for all intensive purposes, Byakuya's cat-mistress.

And treated somehow more as a human than even Rukia, his sister was.

Grimmjow didn't like her. He didn't like when Yoruichi smirked at him from Byakuya's trouser-lap, sitting prim like some Egyptian temple cat, that knowing smirk flashed his way. Nor when he tried to steal her food in the kitchen and Yoruichi turned heel quite calmly at his challenging hiss and trotted to Byakuya's side in the Parlor where he shared his desert with her.

She did not fight but rather dined on cream.

One day he called her_ bitch _in cat language and tried to scratch her perfection on the nose. Yoruichi evaded it and meowed loudly, feigning hurt just as Byakuya entered the kitchen.

That earned Grimmjow, a week in the storage closet with none of his favorite yarn.

He was very ill-tempered after that, even more so when reprieve came at the hands of Rukia, who had a guest visiting. . .

* * *

The moment Grimmjow set eyes on the scowling orange-haired punk sitting incongruously amidst the plush bunnies and pink frills, he knew he'd despise Kurosaki Ichigo until the day he went to his kitty grave.

"What an ugly cat, Rukia." The boy she'd just introduced, exclaimed, looking distastefully at the pile of teal and white streaked fur in her arms. Grimmjow flattened his ears and hissed, leading to her chide. "Now, now, boys, play _nice_." and with that, deposited Grimmjow on the bed beside his new arch enemy. He just wasn't quite sure why he hated Kurosaki at first sight. Maybe it was his glances to Rukia when she wasn't looking.

However, the boy did seem to agree with the dislike- thankfully and didn't try to pet him. "I can't believe you picked up this thing and that Byakuya let you keep it!"

Rukia had been on the verge of digging out homework from a messenger bag lying on the desk. At the accusation she flared back hotly, "what's wrong with Grimmy?"

Ichigo let out a short bark of unpleasant laughter. "It looks like a blue nightmare, that's what!"

Her response was a hefty paperback thrown at his head.

Grimmjow snorted with his owner's action and added to the insult by jumping down and spraying the front of Ichigo's horrid purple pants.

That earned a combination yell and kick from the boy and Rukia's choking fit of laughter.

Evading the clumsy attack, Grimmjow sauntered to the door and realized he liked the sound of Rukia's human laugh. Even more so, because he had caused it.

* * *

Time passed in smooth rapidity.

Byakuya was often absent, leaving Yoruichi's high-strung care to Rukia who was gone for half the day at the very human thing called school. Then at four PM sharp she returned and would feed their respective dinners, serving his in the Keeping room where she would watch TV while he ate.

He didn't see Kurosaki again and was slightly annoyed about it. The boy was easy to rile up like a rival except for his gangly stature posing a danger to Grimmjow's furry behind.

More time passed and he stopped growing.

A few times, Byakuya commented with a steely eye about _neutering and the Vet - _oh those horrid trips for inoculations, but Rukia would put him off the subject by adding how Grimmy never sprayed anything except _for that time with Ichigo's pants_ . . . that elicited a grim quirk of a smile and a light pat from the elder Kuchiki in passing Grimmjow on the arm of the sofa.

He realized he did have an ally in the _dislike-Kurosaki-campaign_.

It seemed Byakuya despised the boy as much but couldn't stop his sister's friendship with the Doctor's son.

* * *

Then one day, Rukia stopped coming home at four.

Eight now.

Sometimes with glossy lips that smelled like strawberries - Grimmjow wanted to gag up a hairball when he sniffed the confines of her purse. With makeup and cuter girly clothes and would talk for hours to someone named Orihime and would..._giggle_.

Grimmjow didn't like the giggles.

He liked her laugh.

But not that light, floaty crap.

It made her sound like...a girl.

Like Nelliel when she met Nnoitora.

He stalked through the empty, silent apartment to the private study. The door was ajar. He wasn't a cat for nothing and stuck his large furry head around and glimpsed a forlorn Yoruichi on Byakuya's expensive executive desk...gazing down at his picture.

The action was...too human-like for a cat.

_The sadness_.

Whatever it was, he didn't like it and butted his head against the door, pushing it open with a solitary creak. Yoruichi broke out of her silence long enough to catch his quick pad across the room and leap to the desk he had been forbidden to touch.

"Mreow?" _Hungry_? Grimmjow asked in catspeak.

Yoruichi didn't smirk but didn't respond verbally. She swatted his nose with a black paw and twitched slinky black whiskers. "Meowl." _Lonely_.

Surprised he forgot momentarily to pay her back for the swipe and looked inquiringly to the picture of the human male. "Mreow meowm?" _For Bastard?_

Yoruichi gave him a disdainful look, meowing, "meow nyanmo." _It's __**Byakuya**_. Then, she added, beginning to clean her whiskers with a sideways glance. "Meowlmwow nyanma." _Rukia's with that boy_.

Grimmjow's hackles rose, his back arched and he hissed furiously. "Mrrreow! Mrreow!" _How do you know?_

A flat stare that seemed to look deep into his furry soul.

"Meowl nyanma meowrl." _Don't hide it, you miss her_.

After she left, Grimmjow sat for a long time staring at the other picture on the desk.

One of Rukia at an Obon festival.

* * *

He waited for her in the foyer.

Half-starved, he noted absently on the hall clock it was nine. The latest she had ever come home. Like a disapproving furry father, Grimmjow pounced down and made figure-8s around her stocking clad legs. Rukia snorted and lightly pushed him away with her boot.

"I know you're happy to see me, but move, Grimm. You're in the way!"

Insulted he let her walk in the rest of the way.

_In fact he wasn't happy and how dare she presume to know his moods!_

Pride still stinging, he stalked to the arched entrance way to the Parlor and watched her drop down a few shopping bags carrying the smell of a Department store and the leather of good shoes. Yoruichi heard the commotion and made an appearance, meowing perfunctorily in a furry imitation of the absent Byakuya's disapproval.

Rukia sighed at the feline displeasure and hustled off to dump unceremonious cans of tinned food in two stoneware bowls - in the kitchen. Not in the Keeping Room. Grimmjow noticed the difference and didn't like it. Not Yoruichi's _knowing_ look and mashing of chicken and rice flavor paste - he left it and went after his erstwhile owner. ..finding her in the Keeping Room with the phone cradled to her ear.

Grimmjow meowed loudly to get her attention.

She ignored him and continued talking about dresses.

He meowed again and rubbed against her legs. A show of affection with as much as he willing to give until she said with a giggle. "Oh, I know! I haven't asked Ichigo yet. But you know he's such a punk...I doubt he'd even wear a tux even if I beat him into it."

_Tux._

_Asking._

_...date?_

It was all too much for Grimmjow's furry brain to handle and he struck out at the closest thing which happened to be her leg, cutting off her next sentence. "Of course I lik-oww! Dammit, Grimmy!" A snarl of frustration left her mouth at the same time, her foot shot out and kicked him squarely across the ribs. Grimmjow mreowed painfully and jetted in a blue streak out of the room.

Rukia sighed and settled back, "sorry, just my cat scratched me. You were saying, Orihime?"

* * *

"Mreeeow meow." _Told you so_. Yoruichi said, finding him on the balcony past Byakuya's room. Grimmjow had done the first thing he'd thought of to feel better other than with no one to pick a cat fight with, go and shred the tie hanging on the door knob of the closet.

A newly made pile of silk threads lay where the subdued blue stripes had once been.

He did not feel better and growled at Yoruichi.

She paused beside him, ignoring like always. The form she cast was a sleek black pool of shadow that sighed with weariness.

"Meow reowowr." she said. _That's the way it is_.

He glared at her, wishing she'd shut up her smarter-than-thou wisdom.

Unfortunately it fell on immune golden-green eyes.

"Meow meow, mreowl." _Our love for the humans can never be reciprocated_.

He tried to slap her, snarling in an angry yowl. "Mreowrowr mrewom!" _What're you saying? That I love her?_

Yoruichi smirked as if saying _what do you think?_

Grimmjow dignified that with a pounce and flying claws and teeth, damned if he'd let her call him a softie.

She left him a scratched up heap on balcony.

He figured he was losing his tough edge.

* * *

Grimmjow kept his distance from Rukia for four days.

Unforgiving the unceremonious kick and fraternization of her with that human punk Kurosaki.

* * *

Byakuya came back from the business trip at the end of the week and spent a whole hour chastising Rukia on the lack of Yoruichi's care. The black cat had joined the family and sat on Byakuya's lap with wise eyes.

Grimmjow slunk out only when Byakuya questioned finally _where the blue thing was_.

Rukia fidgeted in her seat and called him, patting her leg as invitation to jump. He eyed them from the entry way and wrinkled his nose, whiskers twitching in distaste. Yoruichi chuckled at Rukia's disbelief when he turned his back on her, disguising it with a fake sneeze when Byakuya looked down at her suspiciously.

Grimmjow never forgot the look of hurt in the too large violet eyes.

* * *

She tried to make up like the humans always did.

With treats.

A new ball of yarn.

Straw scratching posts after Byakuya found out about his tie.

They glared at each other, he under the dining room table, Byakuya in the doorway, taking stock of one another. Grimmjow felt it was a hollow victory even when Byakuya broke their staring contest and left, most likely wondering _why he was having a staring contest with a cat!_

_A cat_.

Byakuya treated him like a cat.

Rukia treated him like a pet cat.

Yoruichi acted like he was almost an equal..._with feelings_. Grimmjow's lip curled revealing pointy canine teeth. He felt squishy inside even thinking the word. Ergo, feelings made one stupid. Weak. And he was not weak - even if Yoruichi did beat him up that time.

So, he did not feel - so - did that make him a stupid cat?

Nelliel was made stupid and heartsick by Nnoitora.

Rukia was...made sillier by association with lower forms of human life called _Orihime_ and _Kurosaki Ichigo_.

So, he sulked.

Growled at nothing and shredded an old forgotten Chappy under Rukia's bed.

Yoruichi said he was being unintelligent when she bothered to drop by.

He growled at her and challenged her to a fight.

She declined with a haughty mewl and went to go wish Byakuya a safe trip back in the foyer. Rukia was there too. Grimmjow burrowed deeper in the stuffing and dust bunnies.

He did not want to feel.

...not that strange sensation of pain somewhere in his chest cavity..._was this love?_

* * *

Rukia gave up soon and started planning for Prom night.

She bought dress after dress and modeled them in a floor length mirror in the bathroom.

She chose his favorite.

A long bodice tight dress with a single stone-studded strap over one shoulder and gathered at the side of the hip to cascade in rippling folds over stilettos.

* * *

He was not happy when he realized who her date was.

Yoruichi confirmed over dinner.

Kurosaki Ichigo had asked and Rukia had said yes.

* * *

Grimmjow snuck into her closet and shredded all the other dresses that night.

When she found out, she locked him up in the storage closet.

Prom was three days away.

He yowled all night long.

* * *

In the morning when she sleepily let him out before going to school, he jetted out and hid in Byakuya's office, thankful it was always left cracked open for Yoruichi.

_Two days_.

* * *

Grimmjow lay curled up in a ball, glaring sideways at Yoruichi's queen-kitty bed.

The day had passed uneventfully.

Except that Rukia's door had remained closed to him.

Midnight chimed in the clock in the foyer.

Yoruichi began in catspeak, telling him of a very special thing all animals had been granted by God, even though most passed their short life spans never touching the humans lives for more than a few years.

A big tall wish...

The wish to be human for one night.

He twitched his whiskers and asked _if she thought he was stupid enough to believe that_.

Yoruichi settled her elegant furry head down and responded quieter, _maybe if he would have faith..just enough to show how he felt...wasn't that a great wish to have granted?_

He snorted, showing her what he thought of it all.

But thought, unable to get it out of his head.

Thought long after Yoruichi's gentle snores came from the leopard bed.

_What if...just what if for one night he could have hands... _his paws curled_. Have a body, a mouth and a voice..._

_...take Rukia to the silly human dance_.

* * *

It was five PM.

Rukia had just finished her makeup.

Yoruichi meowed her approval.

Ichigo was at the door.

* * *

Grimmjow thought of himself as a cat.

_A cat with four paws, a long white striped tail and black tipped ears. His face was what the humans called ugly, squashed, large, his long body thick with muscles beneath thick blue fur_.

He sat on the floor of the study, watching the shadows change from day to night...and wished. Wished hard like Yoruichi said - and waited.

The shadows were longer.

The clock chimed six.

Seven.

Eight.

He shut his eyes started cursing -

"That bitch-" His meow was a voice. A gruff male voice that echoed around the still confines of the masculine study. He moved and lengthy limbs and legs followed. Unwilling to admit to nervousness, Grimmjow opened his eyes and stared down at the thick muscular torso that was bereft of hair.

His hands flexed.

He felt the cold seep into his backside.

And- and too many other sensations he had never known while in the body of a cat.

The door creaked open just as he got to his feet.

Yoruichi smirked in approval and meowed - he couldn't understand her. Like the humans could only understand human speak, catspeak was gone from his knowledge at least temporarily.

"Ya old bag! So you were right! I am human!" He crowed, slapping his hands together. Yoruichi rolled her eyes at him and stalked past him to Byakuya's desk, knowing which keys to flick, she turned on the desktop and waited patiently for it to load. Her golden green eyes narrowed at him in warning when he made for the door, unwilling to wait around with her.

Yoruichi let out a particular loud meow to get his attention back to her.

Scowling at her demanding attitude, he strolled around the desk and knocked her off the chair, staring intently at the bluish glow of the computer screen.

"...suit?" he turned to her angry furry face glaring up from the floor. "Why do I have to wear that? Why can't I go out like I am?" he asked, confused. She swiped his leg with a quick slash. He grimaced at the pain and tried to kick her. Yoruichi spat and made a wide circle, pouncing at the edge of the desk and stalking forward carefully.

Grimmjow glowered at her but knew better than to try and hit her again.

Yoruichi typed some more, manipulating her paws like fingertips across the black keyboard. He followed with some difficultly. "Ginrei's suits are probably your size...get one out and use cologne, brush your hair back and get going!" He eyed the exclamation mark. Then read on. "The magic ends at midnight. ..." she hesitated then sighed a very human-like sound. "Grimmjow...I'm sorry I didn't tell you before...but in transcending the boundaries between animal and human...your life is also forfeit in the process."

They stared at one another.

Cat and Man.

Finally he spoke with a shrug. "So, I'm going to die. Well, guess it's my tough luck." He rose with her looking after him sadly. Grimmjow ran a hand through his thick shock of teal locks, relishing the feel of the hair. "In this world you can't get somethin' for nothin'."

He forced a grin.

"Ya know I hated you from the moment I first met you."

Her lip curled, tail twitching in annoyance.

He smirked. "But, I don't anymore. Jus' remember, Yoruichi. How much is Bastard Byakuya worth to you...and then you'll have your answer."

She glared at the use of the nickname.

He laughed raucously and retrieved the old suits from the very back of Byakuya's closet.

And chose a white one with a purple dress shirt - _the color of Rukia's eyes_.

The style was old-fashioned compared to Byakuya's neatly pressed suits, but the Kuchiki elder was a much smaller man.

* * *

Yoruichi purred her approval after making him read directions on how to get to the school.

He pocketed the small stash of coins she had gathered from the sofa over the years, to pay for the taxi ride.

Cat and Man stared at one another again and he grudgingly gave in, leaving with a light pat to her furry head.

* * *

The moving contraption the humans called a taxi made him nauseous.

The few times he'd gone to the vet had been by walking - and Rukia had been there.

So, he felt brave- no, scratch that. He wasn't cowardly, dumping the coins in the taxi driver's hand and stumbling onto the sidewalk. Karakura high was huge beyond the brick pillars and open gates that beckoned humans in.

Grimmjow wended his way in, glaring at the few curious faces of brightly painted females in skimpy dresses lounging around outside smoking. It wasn't long before he discerned the main source of music and Disco ball light came from a building to the left of the main four story square. A Gymnasium it was called in brightly painted letters.

He guessed it was his destination and started toward it only to spot his arch enemy, Kurosaki - on his way out, calling to someone still inside.

"I'll go find Ishida! He's probably hiding in a corner somewhere sewing!" Kurosaki was wearing a cheaper version of Byakuya's tailored suits. A bowtie too in lieu of a tie. Grimmjow moved in front of him. Kurosaki stopped short of slamming into him- barely. He was glad to see that he towered over Kurosaki by several inches.

"Sorry." Kurosaki bit out, attempting to move past him. Grimmjow smiled unpleasantly, knowing the boy didn't recognize him. "Well what do I have here...Kurosaki..."

"Yeah?" The punk attitude was back with a vengeance. "Who are you? Someone looking to pick a fight over my hair?"

He eyed the ginger spikes and wondered why anyone would bother over such a tiny detail. It was the boy's attitude and googly eyes at Rukia that offended him. So he said so in a few words. "Nah...just everything about you."

Then when Kurosaki gritted his teeth and looked either ready to punch his lights out or turn the proverbial other cheek - Grimmjow ever mindful of the time, grabbed him by the arm and hauled him toward the main campus building. Kurosaki of course protested, "hey what're you-"

"Shut yer trap!" He hissed cat-like and as soon as they were in the shadows, decked the boy on the back of the neck to stun him.

One hindrance taken care of, he left Kurosaki slumped near the garbage bins and headed back to the Gymnasium to find Rukia.

* * *

A slow song was starting.

The few humans milling around outside talking had drifted back in.

Somewhere a clock struck the ten o'clock hour.

Two hours left.

He lamented the lost time and entered into the sea of teenagers already pairing off again. His teal eyes swept the room from end to end then again almost desperately. His senses tingled and unsure of what to make of his new intuition, was drawn to the far corner where a few plastic chairs had been set up for the date-less.

Rukia was in one of them, her beautiful gown crushed into wrinkling folds.

Another girl sat beside her, one with ginger locks and a vapid expression on her face. He guessed from the makeup, that this was the stupid creature named Orihime.

He sent the girl a withering scowl and jabbed his hand out at his owner, "dance?"

She scowled, petitely. "No." In the coldest possible voice. In any other time he'd have admired her rigid stance and cold arrogance. In this case, sheer annoyance as if he could already feel death yapping at his heels like that irritating dog of Nnoitora's, Yammy.

"Hurry up!" he snapped, earning a flinch from the ginger-girl.

"I said no!" Rukia snapped, her eyes blazing. Though she lacked the major cleavage needed to augment the Pageant-like dress, it still form-fitted her tiny body in a classical elegance that was very appealing. He snarled imprecations under his breath and latched a firm hold around her brittle upper arm and unseated her with a swiftness that Inoue squeaked - "Kuchiki-san!"

That he ignored.

Charging through the masses like a bull - no, a panther, he spun the twisting girl around to face him and forcibly snatched her flailing little hand, imprisoning it in his own. "Now dance with me!" he crudely hissed in her face. Rukia scowled and sniffed haughtily, realizing that she couldn't budge him except to be lead like the rest.

The song ended.

"I have a date you know." Rukia said suddenly, her lips pursing.

"Yeah, I do." He grunted, unwilling to discuss the bastard.

A new one began.

She glared, muttering quietly, "I can't believe I'm doing this..."

"What? Dancin' with an incredibly sexy guy?" He borrowed lingo he'd heard the girls saying outside over illegal cigarettes. She made a cute pouty face at his reply and snorted, looking away. "Like hell...it's just that..." unlike her usual sure tones, Rukia faltered, something that he had rarely seen her do. "...just that...your eyes. They remind me of my cat's."

_Cat? Him_.

Grimmjow barely noticed when the music changed. "So, your cat...you uh had him a long time?" If she noticed the gender affirmation, she gave no sign of it and continued to let herself be lead around.

"Since he was a kitten."

"Oh. Well, he considers himself lucky to have you..." the mush wanted to turn his stomach, but he said it anyway. Rukia nodded absently, almost dreamily adding. "Brother's always told me about how their life spans don't match ours. I guess I never thought about Grimmy dying...to me it seemed he'd always be there, a frowning blue fur ball." she smirked and lost it promptly after hopefully scanning the heads around -_looking for the punk Kurosaki_.

Grimmjow growled softly in his throat and jerked her closer.

Rukia wanted to protest again until he asked gruffly, "what makes you say the cat's going to die?"

She sighed and relaxed a little more, her gown rustled with each step. "He and I...haven't been too close lately. Maybe it's my fault...I've been too wrapped up with school and...my friends to pay much attention to Grimmy. You know...when I found him on a street corner, I was alone..but he took it away."

"Is it really alright to be telling me all this?" Grimmjow forced himself to ask above the painful something in his throat. To personify his tough exterior, he glowered at the neighboring couples until they were given a wide berth. She didn't seem to notice. Instead gave a short bark of embarrassed laughter. "Sorry, it's just that...I feel like I can tell you everything and you won't judge me too badly for it."

"Like the cat." He had to add.

She sobered. "Yes..."

They swayed in silence for a few minutes.

So, Grimmy was a cat to her.

A pet like Yoruichi, to live, be loved for a short time and die then be replaced with another. It was a somewhat bitter cycle that Grimmjow found hard to swallow.

There was one more question to ask.

"Do you...love Grimmy?" The name wanted to be stuck permanently to the roof of his mouth which had suddenly gone dry. He hated it still and Rukia was saying-

- with a soft sad smile, "yes. Call me silly...but yes I do."

The dance floor was emptier now.

The ginger-girl was whispering with a glasses-wearing boy.

He thought it was almost time.

And stopped moving, he kept her from falling from the sudden stop and in her confusion, leaned down and brushed a tiny kiss on her sealed lips.

"Thank you..._Rukia_."

This time she looked stunned that he knew her name.

But Grimmjow stepped back and away from her before articulation could come back, striding away toward the exit until she called out. "What's your name?"

It was getting harder to swallow.

"_Grimmjow_."

He left before her eyes could widen, before Kurosaki stumbled in after the janitor, Hanataro, had found him near the trash bins.

* * *

The taxi sped through the night.

He stumbled into the apartment as the clock began tolling.

_**One**_.

The clothes were hastily shed.

_**Two**_.

He could feel his insides twisting.

_**Three**_.

Yoruichi watched mutely from the hallway.

_**Four**_.

His fingers rippled into claws.

_**Five**_.

Excruciating pain ripped through his body.

_**Six**_**. **

He crawled onto the bed.

_**Seven**_.

His groan warped into a feral growl.

_**Eight**_.

His body began to shrink.

_**Nine**_.

It was harder to breathe. Like he was suffocating -

_**Ten**_.

Slowly.

_**Eleven**_.

His teal cat's eyes focused and fixated on the picture on the table beside the bed. Of happier times. Of a dark-haired girl forcing a blue fur ball to 'smile' toothily at the camera.

_**Twelve**_.

_"I love you...Rukia."_ He thought in his cat-mind and then... his heart simply stopped beating.

Yoruichi watched from the doorway and gently pushed it closed with her paw.

The midnight hour came.

* * *

Rukia returned at 12:20 AM.

* * *

Feeling strange about the whole evening, she wandered about calling for him.

Yoruichi had of course painstakingly dragged the clothing to an inconspicuous place where it wouldn't be found. Impassive now with a tiny wet shine to her golden-eyes, Yoruichi meowed from the sofa when Rukia headed into the hallway finally.

* * *

She found him on the bed.

Eyes staring fixatedly on the image of them together.

She cried for the rest of the night.

-**Finis**-

AN: ;.; *dammit* I'm crying too!

No flames, stupid comments, haters!

Reviews always loved :)


	40. En Passant

-En Passant-

Aizen-x-Rukia & Ichigo-x-Rukia

Song Inspiration: _Sorrow_, Flyleaf

"Tell me, Kuchiki-Fukutaichou. Do you know how to play chess?"

The years weren't kind. Centuries, Rukia had to stop to remember, realizing she hadn't counted for several at least. It was ironic but the first trill of the man's soft baritone voice brought back the image of a much-younger self and Sokyoku hill and _his hand_ entering her chest in a fallacy of intimacy.

It evoked all the wrong kind of shivers and she mentally berated herself for being distracted while in this man's presence.

"No." she chose perfunctorily and tried to appear intimidating for all her 4'9 stature allowed her. She hadn't grown at all in the long space of time, never bustier nor taller. Her hair at one point in time had been short, raggedy black locks to her ears earned her far too many 'boy' comments, so to prove her femininity she let it grow long, past the shoulders. Soi Fong-Taichou had said it was frivolous and impractical in battle.

Rukia did_n't_ listen to the militant woman gone mad by power.

Not when Soi Fong-Taichou had ordered the deaths of many of her friends. Byakuya _ordered_ her to obey - and she did. And lived. And mourned. And found herself sole guard to a dying man. Rukia's violet eyes lifted and passed over the white-cell's four walls and in particular drifted toward the light table and pair of chairs, one currently occupied by a tall, broad-shouldered man.

Aizen Sosuke didn't smile when he toyed with a light-weight plastic pawn in a heavily-shackled hand.

The board was painted on in white and black squares, the pieces were of the same plastic material, the whole room encased in kido spells. The air should've been thick with a humming reiatsu, was once in the private hell known as Avici. But time and progress had lent a slow-poisoning to Aizen's God-like system, to put it simply, Fourth's tired healer said 'God was dying.'

Not many prisoners remained in the Maggot's nest, not after Soi Fong-Taichou lent a few choice words to the right ears. Executions had followed - a clearing out of the old as it were. Until the remodeled prison had 'few' few occupants.

Aizen's sentence wasn't reduced but rather he was moved up to _Akincanyatana_, the prison of nothing.

They spoke of it as a _promotion_, but Rukia only saw it as a way of quashing rebellion. Without her, the few who remembered a _just_ society would fall apart. And even though they were placing her sixteen hours of everyday in the company of Seireitei's most feared enemy, the powerless shackled creature before her would hardly stand as a threat.

"How the mighty have fallen." she sneered before thinking about it, Before the creature bound in black strips lifted his head inquiringly at her.

"Who do you speak of, Kuchiki-Fukutaichou?" Clipped. Polished. She stared at him from her line in the proverbial sand, across the room, standing beside a white door set into an equally white wall. Rukia's eyes threatened to blur and burn from so much glowing whiteness.

"Y-You!" she stumbled out, forgetting herself. "Where's all your Godhood now? Where's your throne in the heavens!" It felt good to throw something in someone's face. She hadn't in so long - always been the perfect subservient Shinigami Fukutaichou. Enough so that she made herself _sick_. "You're-" _rotting apart as you sit there_. But in the end the words clove to her tongue and her mouth felt like ash. Because unbelievably, Aizen Sosuke was smiling lopsided and his own visible eye was twinkling.

He shook his head at her, and said: "No, Kuchiki-Fukutaichou. I think you are the one who has fallen."

...

He infuriated her.

So she swept all the plastic chess pieces to the floor. They clanged with minute thuds and scattered to the four corners of the square room. Rukia was shaking with anger and no, not just anger. Fear remained tart on her tongue because it was just too damn close to the truth.

"Shut up." She warned coldly, whispering and stalked back from the table and the shrewdly smiling man who thought he had all the answers (when he didn't) she had to believe he didn't. And she wanted to walk away, hide her cowering face - but of course she couldn't.

_Sixteen hours_.

It _felt_ like a death sentence for her soul to stand guard inside that room.

It killed her eyes to look at the smug man and know her words couldn't even hurt him.

Rukia felt herself shrivel and harden more inside.

...

Byakuya sent her a letter promising a change-in-guard.

She kept the missive close to her in the days and nights that followed. Her quarters were a blinding white like the rest of the prison, she wondered sometimes if the interior had been inspired by a mad fit of inspiration of Las Noches palace.

In the end, a new missive came bearing a heavy unfamiliar hand telling of her permanent appointment to the Akincanyatana level of prison guards. Someone else would be inducted as Fukutaichou in her stead. Rukia sent a reply in her bronze badge and punched the wall outside Aizen's cell before starting her shift.

She cradled a bleeding fist for two hours before the false-God tilted an eyebrow at her.

"Is something the matter, Kuchiki-Fukutaichou?"

She wanted to snap at him to correct his honorific when all it was, was a deliberate slap in the face. But then reason took hold and she realized he...couldn't have _known_. Not a soul except for her and one other guard came.

"It's simply, Kuchiki-_san_." she said through gritted teeth, proud that her voice didn't wobble.

He nodded slightly as though he understood and added - kinder, though it was fake of course.

"Would you like to remain '-fukutaichou' in this room?"

It was almost _**kind**_.

"No. Kuchiki-_san_ will suffice."

He nodded again and gestured lightly with a folded, more resembling a claw, hand. She stared in a contest but his eyebrow tilted up at her again and gestured again.

She scowled and stalked forward, growling grumpily, "what?"

"Your hand." Aizen murmured and made her feel stupid. Reluctantly she stepped up as close as she dared and extended her hand - he extended his as close as possible and an immediate flush of warmth encapsulated it.

She had heard his reiatsu was powerful enough at one time to burn - literally, the deceased Gin Ichimaru's arm away. Now, it was barely a flicker. Her scraped knuckles were healed.

"I have enough for that." He said with something like glittering amusement.

She sucked her teeth and stalked away to her post by the door and behind her safety-net of the line in the sand.

"Tch. Don't think I'm going to thank you..."

"I wouldn't dream of asking, Kuchiki-san." Aizen Sosuke said placidly and stared off into space.

...

_Sixteen hours_. Eight hours of sleep. No schedule, just a day to day routine that never varied. Rukia brushed her hair and lightly touched the plastic strawberry clip on the narrow shelf above the tiny sink. It was one of the last things Renji had smuggled out of the massacre in Karakura town.

It had belonged to one of the Kurosaki twins.

Seeing it every day lifted her mood and at the same time pained her deeply. She smoothed her uniform out and tugged on the white band wrapped around her left arm, fussily making sure it remained in place. It was a symbol of her guard rank, she still missed the weight of the bronze plaque.

...

Aizen had requested a chess set; the superiors had granted it with amused smiles.

She entered before the secondary guard brought in the prisoner, before the clock struck the appointed time of her shift. She picked up all thirty-two pieces and set them in the order of black and white on the sixty-four squares on the table.

She thought she knew why they had granted it.

No one would ever play with _God_.

...

"Do you know how to...play?" she asked, breaking the silence of ten hours.

He lifted his head and stared at her with one good brown eye.

"Yes."

Silence.

The white and blacks pieces seemed intimidating to her.

"I can teach you." Aizen said, breaking the infernal quiet pressing down on her eardrums. "If you _want_." Softer. Bound in chains, God doesn't beg for companionship.

...The Opening...

She did it because it made the time go faster.

Because it disturbed the utter silence that wanted to make her go mad but for only yelling, familiar voices not deathly white and more white.

She and he were the only black in the room - other than the chess pieces. Two hours passed and Aizen had barely finished explaining in that long 'lecture' style he had oft adopted when lecturing students in Shino academy

Once the rules were laid bare, she took a seat opposite and stared down at her 'pawns' the black set. Aizen took the white - a hint of irony was present there but if he thought passingly of his long-deceased army, he said nothing about it.

"Ladies first." He said instead, with what would've been a charming smile had most of it been showing and not bandages and the corner of his mouth lifted. Rukia bit back most of her snideness moving a piece forward - any piece, saying, "how kind." _Dryly._

Rukia learned in the proceeding hours, that Aizen had a perfect poker-face and dammit, the only piece she won was his..._white queen_. Aizen took all her black pieces, starting with her knight which brought something painful to rise in her throat.

_**Ichigo**_.

Aizen, well-versed with the pieces and with studying human emotions, asked in the next turn.

"How did he die?"

Rukia lifted her numbed eyes to the unsmiling countenance of her bestfriend's old enemy and said in a few words how _Ichigo had died a hero. He took some of the bastards down with him_.

"Fitting." Was Aizen's only comment, directed toward the last end of the sentences.

When she lifted questioning eyes again, he said quieter.

"Ichigo-kun fought to the last. He is not rotting in a cell as their captive."

Unspoken.

_Like I am_.

Aizen didn't seek pity but she understood the sentiment.

"Checkmate, Kuchiki-san."

...

Before long a new directive came.

It seemed as if the Central 46 were bent on increasing their _im__**mortality**_. Rukia supposed the man once claimed he was immortal and would otherwise be, judging from the rapid cell and tissue growth to replace the old atrophying vessels. In that way, he resembled a sickly if not semi-youthful man.

"Humans are always terribly curious to understand things they are not meant to understand." Aizen commented sneeringly.

The uncouth guards smirked and slapped him hard.

She winced and felt like she could _breathe_ only after they had left. Which was strange because just six months ago she would've welcomed the kind of loud-ruffian voices to break the still, sterile silence of Akincanyatana. Now she waited in her quarters and watched the clock tick time off.

Waiting felt like such an eternity.

...The Middlegame...

When all else failed, Aizen smiled and sneered at the world. No - not, 'Aizen'. In his mind, trapped in his own quick thought processes, it was Sosuke. Sosuke _watched_ the world. Contrary to what everyone assumed and what the redoubtable Kuchiki-san would voice.

Sosuke was genuinely sorry to hear of Kurosaki Ichigo-kun's passing.

But that wasn't what the hard-faced, slit-eyed woman was there about. Soi Fong had not changed in the millennia since he had known her as a fellow Taichou. His opinions or thoughts didn't matter. What did, Soi Fong said so snidely was the fact that many of the Taichous were 'aging' - something they suspected was a last ingenious ploy by Urahara Kisuke to destroy **The Society**. In capital letters. How ridiculous their bellows of superiority were.

He wanted to smile at his old nemesis's 'virus' such a new-fangled word for an old term caused by dissipation, noting with interest how crow's feet patterned Soi Fong's thin eyelids and spread out from the harsh line of her mouth. Her hair was still short and black. But even her sharp precise movements were jerky, _stiff_. Sosuke thought of Kuchiki-san and realized that she had not been present during the final roundup of rebels.

She was still perfect - and - immaculately ..._lovely_.

Pity she would smack him very hard if he would speak it.

Sosuke turned his good eye to the small woman of steel before him and said. "Does the thought of looking in a mirror and seeing your own requisite hideousness repulse you so, Soi Fong-Taichou?"

She spun on her heel angrily, unwilling to give up her search for the 'secret' of eternal life. _God's secret_. And ordered her officers to _'bring God down a notch'_ and smirked when she said it. Sosuke smiled genially at their approaching shadows.

...

Unohana was a wizened old woman when she entered.

Beneath the cap of snow-white hair, her vivid azure eyes remained sad when they met his. Sosuke hated her pity. The healer Taichou stayed back as her 'younger' officers followed and dealt with the worst of the wounds. New bandages were brought and his long brown hair trimmed to its former shortness.

They were done.

"What has happened to this world we knew?" Unohana asked softly, leaving without an answer. Because the old enemy of the world would not say that he enjoyed watching The Society's corruption eat itself up.

_It never existed_, he thought in response to her question, being wheeled from the Repentance tower. Somewhere far away in the white prison of Akincanyatana, Kuchiki-san and an idyllic game of chess waited.

...

Aizen returned cleaner. _Somehow_.

She couldn't bring herself to ask what had gone on and knew instinctively in a way that was almost scary, that he wouldn't speak of it either. She declined chess - having been unable to think of a good strategy to capture his pawns -_yet_, and instead dwelled in silence for an hour.

Then, unwittingly broke it demanding he speak.

"What of?"

She thought, having hated silence around her, "anything."

"I don't quite understand. Clarify further."

She scowled and stamped her sandaled foot irritably. "Anything and everything!"

"Alright." And he told her about Barragan's roofless palace. Seeing no harm in speaking of an incipient insect that was long-gone. He told her of Halibel's fracciones, how protective she was of them. Rukia reflected with some irony that Aizen had 'killed' the Tercera Espada after saying she was too weak to continue fighting for him.

Therein lay the irony.

Rukia had a bitter taste on her tongue, thinking of the Tercera executed by the Shinigami - _instead_.

Which was the worst death?

...

Soi Fong had them carry him again from the prison of white walls, two weeks later.

Sosuke smiled at his jailors, at the very laws itself which imprisoned him. Again the same questions. The same responses came. This time they left him with a shattered jaw and an eye that was filled with blood.

They were very bad devotees.

Unohana couldn't suppress her distaste at such cruelty governed out by her rank in file and healed the majority of his injures herself. God had never felt so helpless then at that moment.

...

Every day.

Rukia's jaw set and her eyes hardened. She hated the squadron of four thick-set Shinigami that came and went as they pleased. They had buzz cuts and wagging mouths and jeered at her from behind her back - laughing at her loss of a seated position.

She was just... Kuchiki-san the guard. Not warden even. Simply a prison guard. As much a prisoner to the white walls as Aizen Sosuke and the few others whom she had not seen.

Once, one of the louts had advanced on her in the hallway several feet from the cell door.

"How long has it been, Kuchiki-_chan_?" Leering.

She knew what Mogami meant and scowled fiercely, refusing to back down. "That's none of your business, Mogami-_san_."

He had snickered, piggish eyes beneath too thick black eyebrows waggling. "Hah, well today's you're lucky day, Kuchiki-_chan_. How about I-"

But Aizen's cool baritone had spliced through the air like a blade.

She wished she'd had Sode no Shirayuki. More over, what had happened to her status as a Kuchiki? Did her brother's fury mean nothing?

"Mogami-_kun_, I doubt Soi Fong-taichou would appreciate my being late for our little chat."

He dripped sarcasm and smirked when they entered. Rukia's violet eyes had sought the single blood-shot brown orb and held it, staying to the side when the four guards as a whole came together and transported the world's enemy _away_.

Rukia had then sunk down in the ensuing silence and realized, that she had been saved from possible 'rape' by...Aizen Sosuke.

And now she owed him.

...

The White Queen again.

In annoyance, she swatted the table with her fist and the hard-earned piece had jumped off the table to roll somewhere underneath. Her first instinct was to curse, second to scowl at Aizen's mild, "_temper. Temper_."

Then dive beneath to the retrieve the errant crowned piece.

Rukia's fingers had closed upon the smooth well-worn plastic just as her eyes drifted toward the darker spots staining Aizen's bandages.

...

She stayed again when they wheeled him out.

And lingered until their steps and loud guffaws had faded.

Rukia fought off her surge of cowardice and went around the table, the spots painted like stark blemishes on the white floor. Blood.

...

Aizen dripped blood. She stayed back across the proverbial sand line and stared at the floor, imagining a very red line slashing its way, separating he and her.

His eye _bled_.

Rukia tightened her crossed arms, digging nails into the flesh. All those times, _Unohana must've...they did...why?_ And she felt sick. Because Aizen was evil. He was bad. But what they did, made them no better. He was not God. He was ...a Shinigami. Aizen was a Shinigami, like what Ichigo had told her of, the flawed theory and world Aizen Sosuke had been born into, didn't allow.

Aizen was an almost reiatsu-less Shinigami and his wounds had been left untreated.

"Why won't you call for mercy?" she asked, hurling it like an accusation, hoping to free the many torpid thoughts racing in her mind. His eye would've crinkled in the corners and a smile from cut lips would've flashed her way, in the end he managed a pained grimace.

"Because, my dear Kuchiki-san, that is for the weak."

She snarled unintelligibly at that and stomped forward, rolling her proverbial sleeves back.

The next half hour was spent in the green glow of kido and when she was done, drained, irritable still, she was amazed at her own handiwork.

"You owe me." she said triumphantly, like a queen in all her 4'9 glory. Her debt repaid lead to one owed.

The blood had stopped.

"Perhaps. What do you want?"

God had nothing he could offer.

_But he always had a way with words_...

"I want to hear about your childhood."

...

She was starting to think she'd been left there in that cell with a mad man only so he would drive her _mad_.

Just when she had come to assume he still possessed some logic, he had to throw curveballs at her.

"Why are you so interested in me, Kuchiki-san? Is it you have finally come to respect me?"

"N-No!"

His smirk made her face heat up, "ah denial. The oldest tale in the book."

"Shut up!" she growled, failing desperately at being menacing - and dammit, why couldn't her face stop feeling hot? It was with some relief when his smile remained, playing on the edges of his mouth, when the subject dropped between them - had there even been one to begin with? She was alone with uncomfortable thoughts.

_Over-analyzation was a result of summer heat_. Rukia saw the waves blast the modernized buildings and ripple in shimmery mirages from a window in the empty cafeteria. Inside the white prison, it was preternaturally cool. It had be over-analyzing. Or else... She crossed her arms tighter over her thin chest and mentally willed the clock ticking off the silent minutes to wind faster.

The other explanation was something she couldn't handle.

...

Soi Fong was desperate, he could see it in her sharp eyes, the only feature unravaged by the sped-up grains of time. her face was a hideous mass of craggy lines, her voice remained unflawed, perhaps the voice of someone around thirty-two years of age.

"Ah, is it truly a secret, Soi Fong-Taichou?"

He thought it might've been a sample of Barragan's aspect of death that Urahara had somehow built upon. Maybe it was unfair to say that Urahara was his nemesis-_still_. The man was dead but his will lived on and it was killing the Shinigami slowly.

The woman leaned back surprised, staring down at him from her 'lofty' height. The squalid cell was dimly lit, four buffoon guards stayed in position while the Special Ops commander held the reigns as interrogator. She blinked and scowled, very unsightly indeed.

"Is this more of your ravings?"

"Of course not." He injected a tinge of suitable offense only to have her hand, a mass of loose wrinkled flesh strike him twice upon the cheek. Sosuke realized he could feel pain again, with that. Mostly the pain of having sharp bones rattle and slam against firm flesh. Despite the Hogyoku devouring his remaining spiritual pressure, his face remained at a comfortable age of thirty-five. Give or take a few years.

"I see." Soi Fong hissed and spun around, the action once graceful now shaken, she strode crookedly back across the square dimensions of the cell and said in a tone of haughty importance. "Perhaps I shall request Kurotsuchi-taichou to dissect Kuchiki Rukia-san."

"What of her brother?"

"Kuchiki Byakuya remains guarded at his home, his ..health is slipping. He need not know anything."

Sosuke had not been fond of the Kuchiki scion but assumed just then, that the veritable Noble hadn't gone unscathed by age. He looked upon the furious 'old' woman and couldn't think of arrogant Kuchiki Byakuya with a head of white hair.

"What do you believe you will accomplish by threatening Kuchiki-san?"

That momentarily took Soi Fong off guard.

"After all she is nothing to me. Just another incipient little fly like a million others."

"So you do not care?"

"Nothing in this world as value to me." He said simply, but thought at the same time. _But I want everything in this world_.

She observed him narrowly, attempting to pry at the sedate smiling facade Sosuke wore.

"Take him away for now."

"Hai, Taichou."

...

Byakuya looked in a mirror as a servant helped him change robes.

His face was lined, hair a startling white.

It wasn't much of a loss.

The black shihakusho fit his gaunt form loosely but he waved away the attendants' help. Senbonzakura was the last touch, residing in the white sash forever at the ready. Byakuya's long lean hands shook but he stilled the motions by grasping the hilt of his sword.

"Send word to Second Division. I will be visiting my sister today." He paused, the manor was silent, the few servants forcibly removed until only two remained. A courier for Sixth to carry orders to the replacement procured in Abarai's death, and one aged retainer who remained steadfastly loyal.

"Whether _permission_ is granted or not."

"Yes, my Lord."

...

She had heard a few scraps of the word.

'Aging' but hadn't thought it so terrible. "Nii-sama?" she had faltered in her recollection, thinking of a dark-haired man in perfect health, but what she saw was a man far removed from society, as it were.

"Nii-sama!" Again and she ran forward, swords crossed with the motion just before the open doorway. Byakuya's slate eyes remained piercing, glittering with intelligence. "Forgive me for not preparing anything properly! No one told me you to expect your visit today." she flushed, mumbling, just a few feet away from throwing her arms around any part of the stoop-shouldered man.

"That is...unimportant, Rukia. Tell me...why do you not step outside?"

"Ah - um - I was ordered not to. I'm sorry, Nii-sama."

He sighed, his glance shifting to the Shinigami whom had escorted him there, sent as a 'to protect you, Kuchiki-Taichou' but rather served as deterrents from privacy. Rukia could not step outside and he wasn't allowed to set foot inside the prison, under some obscure commandment by the increasingly _mad_ Central 46.

Too many lesser clans, enemies of the Kuchikis, had taken power and he found his name alone barely carried any weight.

"Don't be."

She looked at him helplessly, her too-large violet eyes beseeching. Byakuya despised his own feelings of helplessness as well and didn't immediately respond directly when the closest guard flicked his hilt jerkingly back the way of the stone steps leading down to the hidden path and finally to the street.

"Time to go, Kuchiki-Taichou. We don't want yer health to suffer." The insulting worm's very tone said otherwise as well as hard beady eyes. Byakuya set his jaw and met his 'sister's' eyes, a strong surge of familial feeling stirring in his cold breast.

"One day you will walk in the sun again."

"Nii-sama..." she murmured; the guards didn't dare touch him but rather motioned with their Zanpaku-tos. Byakuya watched the door close, sealing her from sight.

...

"You're sad, don't attempt to hide it."

"My brother was murdered."

One week later and a curt missive came, detailing her Byakuya's heir and of his 'peaceful' passing in his sleep at the Kuchiki manor. The striking black lines on cream paper sickened her. She wasn't even allowed to leave for his 'funeral'.

"Ah."

Her hands shook so badly but she kept them fixated at her sides, the white room choked her soul, the panel behind her back solid was nothing more than a barrier. "Can't you show even some human compassion!" she snapped shrilly, the words tumbling from her lips driven by impetuous force. "I have no one! I have nothing!"

"You are nothing." Aizen interrupted patiently, speaking as though to a child. Rukia opened and closed her mouth several times, finally letting out a garbled noise of frustration. "You bellow and toil grimly at your fate but do nothing to change it."

Despite her anger and the bitterness clawing at her insides; Rukia detected a note of truth in his soft tone.

"What would you have me do?"

"Nothing."

She wanted to fall over or stalk over there and throw a chair - or - or something to get rid of the seething of useless frustration boiling in her chest. But in the end did nothing and glowered feebly.

"The cancer will rot itself out of the host body on its own, Kuchiki-san." He tapped the bottom edge of a white pawn against the tabletop. "Your brother was only one casualty from many. An unfortunate thing, but unstoppable by anyone."

She felt somehow that it was meant to allay her guilt, strangely the soft mellifluous tones soothed her scraped raw nerves. She scowled and stared fixatedly at the floor for the rest of the hours before a change in guard.

...The _End_Game...

The day was like any other. She woke up at six, washed her face with a fresh basin of cold water, dried herself with a soft towel imported from the mansion and dressed in the usual black shihakusho. Rukia stopped a few minutes to drag a brush through her hair, to style the ends to frame her face like they used to and let the longer strands cascade down her back.

This was the day. She almost grinned to herself walking through the solitary corridors of the prison. She had even forgone the usual bowl of rice for a Kampon biscuit, finding she was strangely less 'hungry' than ever. Rukia blamed it on anticipation and reached the cell just as the secondary guard she had not seen before now, was wheeling Aizen into place.

"H-Hinamori?" she stopped just inside the doorway.

The ex Fukutaichou of Fifth smiled wanly in Rukia's direction, "hello, Kuchiki-san." The girl's figure was slightly stooped, her small bun at the back of her head and fringe framing her expressive dark brown eyes, a greyish white streaked with black. Salt and pepper.

"I must go now. Goodbye Aizen-taichou." Hinamori bowed. The man she addressed spoke nothing, expressionless when his ex Fukutaichou slipped out the door.

"How come you don't have Hinamori play chess with you?" Rukia asked suspiciously, once she was absolutely positive the ex Fukutaichou was out of earshot.

"Because, Kuchiki-san, Hinamori-chan wouldn't prove a worthy opponent." He offered a slight smile, gesturing to the board. "She would, _ah_, let me win every time."

_Oh_. Rukia understood and went to take her seat. The sixteen black pieces stood in alignment, brave pieces against the white knights and Bishop, and Rook and King and Queen presiding over the splendor of their side of the sixty-four square court.

Not for long.

"Begin, Kuchiki-san." Aizen said, breaking Chess rule that White went first.

...

The game went on for three hours.

In which time the sun she never saw, rose outside, in time the boom of Kido cannons rocked the walled city, whether distant or not she hardly cared. They were in _Akincanyatana_, the prison of nothingness. And she was capturing his white knights.

All was well in Rukia Kuchiki's tiny world.

...

One Bishop left guarding the King and Queen.

Rukia worried her lip, her tiny fingers curled possessively around the round-topped black knight, trying to choose the next square to move forward on.

"Tell me, Kuchiki-san, would you like to live forever?"

"No." she said unthinkingly.

"Why not?" he frowned. Aizen Sosuke -onetime God of Hueco Mundo did not scowl lightly at things.

"Who will I play chess with once you're gone?" she quipped lightly, knocking the Bishop aside.

...

She won, not easily not quickly. Just infringing long enough to hear sandal stamping in the hallway and uttered a threat of imminent death to whomever opened the door first would get a blast of kido full in the face. They backed off and waited like she demanded they do. Aizen had lifted a brow at her gumption but smirked nonetheless at this shade of the old Rukia Kuchiki.

"That's much better." He commented softly, leading her to glance sharply at him as she stared at the board and the last piece left standing.

_The King_.

"What is?" Because she was too damned curious for her own good.

He shook his head and let her topple the King.

"Checkmate." she grinned, capturing his final piece. Aizen did a surprising thing then, he laid his hand atop her clasped fingers. Just a light brush from the very pads of his fingers.

"Congratulations, Kuchiki-san."

The door opened.

Rukia looked slowly from their hands to his face -the slivers she could see and realized that Aizen for once was not smirking, not mocking but was...in between. _Contented_, she thought suddenly when he let go from the small contact. He was contented.

"It was...a good match." He said when the burly Shinigami surrounded him on all three sides.

She felt somehow empty without the slight pressure of his hand covering hers. It was a strange sort of feeling but she closed her searching fingers and sent glowers to the leering Shinigami. "Yeah..." why did they seem more like hollowed out shells than aggressive punks? She smiled a little, fingering the King.

"It was. Up for another...after?"

He was being pulled away from the table, she caught sight of surprise then quickly masked by a small lift of the corner of his mouth, "yes."

"I'll be waiting."

"Of course." _He was so smug_.

"Don't make me wait long dammit."

More of a smirk but with closed eyes as in a sigh. "Thank..._you_." The would-be God said no more. The distant booms were somehow closer and Rukia failed to notice the necrosis breaking up the dermis tissue on the nearest Shinigami officer.

She swiveled in her seat to watch them disappear through the door, why did she have this feeling that this was the last time she would see Aizen Sosuke?

The thought was preposterous.

She shook her head and brushed an errant bang from her face, it stayed stubbornly in place. And she sighed, releasing the pawn she'd been holding for the last twenty minutes.

It was the regal King, so unlike the brash knight and the proud crowned queen.

The white King was her favorite piece above all.

Her hair now knotted in a messy updo, stayed out of her eyes and she noticed what she had failed to see before. The white King in the center of the painted board was _broken_. She blinked, her too large eyes widening and then her hand shot out and lifted the chess piece up to examine it closely.

Why did a subtle shiver run through her seeing the uneven break in the King's cross-crown?

...

"This is your last chance."

"Alright. You will get your answer."

Onyx eyes blinked, something like naked triumph flittered across the gap-toothed old woman clad in loose Shinigami robes and white haori.

Aizen Sosuke smiled at his captor and said, "you are all doomed." He started laughing, quietly at the crest-fallen astonishment that came before blood-red fury. "The answer was...immortality lies solely in Kuchiki Rukia."

"Wha...h-how can this b-be!"

"She will live forever." He smiled at the irony of the tiny insignificant Shinigami holding the key, Urahara must've known, how many others had protected her until this moment - and she would never realize it. "Because she carried the dormant orb of distortion within her _pure_ soul."

Soi Fong was being held up by her guards -voices came from the outer world, shrieks that the Central 46 - those incipient beings whom had passed judgment on him an eon ago, were ...piles of ash. Not even the air itself would accept their rotted cores as reishii.

"You planned this-" she stammered.

He frowned, "no, in truth this was one thing I didn't contrive to manipulate. Though I don't expect you to believe me."

Soi Fong shook her head, her eyes staring out of her skull-like countenance. "You planned to rule with her- Guards!" she turned and shrieked wildly, "kill Kuchiki Rukia on sight!"

"...whom do you call for?" Sosuke murmured, though his reiatsu was almost completely non-existent, he couldn't feel anyone beyond the few gathered in the cell. Soi Fong slowly turned to stare at him, sweat beading. "Can't you feel it? They're already non-existent." A malicious light glittered in his visible eye.

The Taichou of Second lunged at him, baring her sword at the last second.

An instant of death promised.

"Taichou-!" Her guards said.

"Die, you false God. Die and know your own mortality." she hissed, ignoring them and the rest of the world. Her shikai was no less potent than a thousand years ago, then on the battlefield of a fake Karakura town. It stopped his heart as it should. It stopped the poison from filling in heart valves and blackening his organs.

He didn't ever wish to elaborate how much it simply took to smile at the brightly alive Kuchiki Rukia. This one tiny speck out of all to survive the deteriorating society and still be as flawless as the moment when he plucked the Hogyoku from her chest. She was ...marvelous in every sense of the word. And he had been privileged in the last few months to see her break out of her empty shell and be again the soul she was before.

"...a Shinigami now."

Gods couldn't be killed.

Soi Fong who stood over him, didn't understand his last words.

Nor why the traitor of The Society, wore a tiny smile on his face as he died.

...

Rukia pocketed the white King and left, noting the deep silence settling over the outside world. She went through another set of doors she hadn't noticed before and down another hallway where Hinamori's spirit pressure emanated from.

"'Shiro-chan..'Shiro-chan..." Hinamori whimpered and cried softly. Rukia froze and crept stealthily to the open doorway. Once she caught a glimpse of the inside, immediately rushed in, feeling somewhat useless to comfort the small woman sobbing over ...the body of Tenth's Taichou. She had never known what had happened to Hitsugaya Toshiro, reports had been he had fled to the living world to escape censure for his criticism of **The Society**.

She saw now it had all been a lie.

Hitsugaya had never..._left,_ remained imprisoned in a world he once protected and called home. Rukia felt her throat close up and tighten but kept her tears at bay, reaching through a haze to lightly touch Hinamori's shoulder. Beneath her hand, the bone felt light, hollow.

"He's gone...Hinamori. C'mon." _I don't want to go alone_.

"I-It's too late for me, Kuchiki-san."

"What do you mean! Don't be saying such ridiculous things!"

The doe-eyed girl/woman, turned and showed her face to Rukia. "See, Kuchiki-san? My time is almost up. But yours isn't."

She stared wordlessly at what was before her.

"Aizen-taichou told me about the orb and what the orb wanted. He said the orb _wanted_ you. You and your selfless wish for everyone to continue on as they always did. But, Aizen-taichou said that he couldn't give the orb the strength anymore to feed it the way it needed to be fed and so...only part of your wish was granted." Hinamori smiled, her youth gone and laid her head next to Hitsugaya Toshiro's remains, "he wanted to give you something back..."

"H-Hinamori?" Rukia was afraid, she suppressed it hard even though her voice wobbled, she dared to stretch out a hand again to the shoulder of the tiny shriveled husk kneeling on the floor. Sunken brown eyes were closed, sealed. She surely imagined the last enunciation.

A name, for surely Aizen was no God to bring back the dead.

It was Hinamori Momo's last. And before her eyes, the woman faded into a pile of dust, only her black garments remained. Rukia let out a choked sob and swallowed hard, balling her fists against her thighs. Trying to suppress the sudden emptiness she felt in the center of her being.

It was quiet.

_Byakuya - __**Ichigo**__ - Orihime - Ishida - Chad - ... Aizen_.

They were all gone.

She felt terribly alone. Whether born of necessity or inner courage, she slowly calmed her heavy breaths and walked from the Prison of nothingness and out the door into a world she had been forbidden from stepping into for two years.

There it was much quieter, a hush lay over everything.

Puddles of black raiment lay upon the ground everywhere she looked with wide frightened eyes. Rukia felt as though she were looking at the city with new eyes. Detached yes. Herein there had been little she had loved, those were long gone by the very dead that littered the streets and buildings of the white city.

She passed several byways, noticing rubble strewn the closer she got to the quarters of Second Division's holding cells. Her stride which at first short because of her small legs lengthened into a jogging-run, she could feel a reiatsu...familiar, so familiar that something painful lodged in her throat.

"Ichigo..." she whispered, rounding the last corner.

A battle-weary figure scratched at the back of his head, wandering from a doorway to the left, at the sound of her voice, he spun around - somehow hearing her faint enunciation. "R-Rukia? What the hell's going on here?" Then she was flying, barreling into him and he stumbled and cursed some more, his confusion growing.

"...thought I was a goner with that bitch...hey? Why're you so-"

"Shut up. Shut up, baka." she muttered, squeezing him tightly, trying to hold as much as she could.

"Don't tell me..." he was starting to sound faintly horrified, "you-_like_-me!"

"I said shut up!" she growled and thumped his ribs, laughing as well as crying in simple joy.

-Finis-

AN: -.-; this story was actually part of the 64 Damn Prompts, but got scrapped for that series in favor of a Bleach/Kuroshitsuji idea involving the same prompt. It was either Aizen or Ciel I could imagine with a chess set, and since the Bleach shots for the 64 are Rukiax? the idea was too irresistible ^o^ so rather than toss the 6thou+ word count I chose the title En Passant, a move from a chess game, meaning to capture the enemy pawn in passing.

No flames

Reviews loved


	41. Biohazard pt1

AN: I don't like to think of the term _Parody _when the subject matter isn't a wholly humorous fic, suffice to say, this is inspired by the Resident Evil games, novels and movies to a certain extent. enjoy

Title: Biohazard pt1

Rating: M

Pairing: Rukiaxvarious

Genres: Survival horror, Romance

Summary: After a viral fatal spill in Karakura town, Special ops commander, Rukia Kuchiki and her team must survive the horror. Rukiaxvarious

* * *

The kid two seats down was crying.

Over and over the young white-haired man cursed these 'head-hunting' assignments. Yamamoto knew damned well that Kuchiki could drag his ass off the high horse he rode and book a flight down to Karakura to meet the contact.

Information on potential Bio-weapons being conducted in Japan's own backyard, be damned.

Hitsugaya Toshiro settled discontentedly back into his seat, scowling at nothing in particular. He soon became aware however of distinct _riiiiiip_ coming from the person seated next to him.

"Could you please stop that?" he asked, half-glancing at the boy barely out of his teens wearing cut off denim jeans and a artsy black and white T-shirt that exposed lean, muscled forearms. The boy was an albino or as near to one as Hitsugaya had ever seen. A shock of pure snow white hair capped disagreeable features drawn up in an ugly scowl and the blackest obsidian eyes tinted with a sliver of golden yellow flickered serpentinely to him.

"What'cha looking at?" the boy demanded fiercely, a hint of Kyoto dialect flavoring his uncouth tone. Hitsugaya's nose crinkled and he affected a slight sigh, averting his face.

"Nothing."

The punk stared at him hard for a few minutes longer, glare burning into expensively tailored slacks and light blue dress shirt. Because of the seasonably warm weather predicted for Karakura, he had loosened his tie and left his suit jacket folded up in the briefcase above. A Tokyo newspaper lay folded across his lap, after looking at it twice, the usual news about tumbling stocks had failed to keep his attention.

The young punk finally broke stare and snorted something rude under his breath. Hitsugaya refused to dignify that with a glance and kept his gaze firmly fixed on the small port window situated just above the armrest. From its reflection he could see a portion of his seat companion silhouetted by the square pane of blue sky outside the plane.

Abruptly the albino unbuckled his seat belt, rising with a stretching groan. A stewardess flashed a winning smile at the young man, leading Hitsugaya to wonder why all women favored the bad boys. Rather surprisingly the boy scowled uglier at her and sauntered down the row heading to the John.

Once the antagonistic presence had left the general vicinity, Hitsugaya relaxed somewhat, shifting some in his seat and as he did so...caught sight of something littering the seat next to him. A sudden bump in the plane's smooth glide brought startled gasps from the other passengers and Hitsugaya shot a quick look around before ducking his head, spotting the largest of white paper his seat companion had been tearing up, flitter to the carpeted floor.

The intercom crackled on as he bent over sideways and reached for it.

"This is your Captain speaking, Folks, we've run into a bit of turbulence. So just keep your belts on and hang on. It's nothing-"

The intercom stuttered off into static.

Hitsugaya's fingers closed on the large piece of glossy paper, turning it over on the narrow space in a fit of curiosity fueled by boredom. It was a picture of a scowling black-haired girl whose face-

The plane buckled, shuddering mightily.

A few nervous chuckles changed abruptly into shrieks of terror as the craft suddenly lurched forward sharply, angling for an unavoidable nose-dive-

...6AM Tokyo...

"The first reports are filtering to the media.." the brown-haired man's locks were slicked back from his forehead, curling over his ears. His self-composure was excellent no matter the bobbing raven black head situated between his thighs. The young woman dressed entirely in tight black, knelt on a silk cushion, her mouth expertly absorbing his cock.

Aizen Sosuke sat askance to the large chestnut desk, tasteful art hung on the beige walls. A few papers lay scattered across his desk. He rested one arm on the side armrest and cradled his chin in a large hand. Rukia hummed, taking in much more than anyone would've thought possible had there been any witnesses, into her tiny mouth. Kuchiki Rukia was the definition of petite. From her slender body down to her small arms and legs. Her hair was the blackest night and cut to the collar, ending in sharp points, a stubborn bang hung between her too-large eyes but she lacked the doe-eyed innocence of another woman Aizen used to be acquainted with. Rather, Rukia's burned behind the glaze.

He had not expected a reply nor was one forthcoming.

And contrary to Hinamori, Rukia was far more..._naughtier_.

"Swallow it." He murmured, gently threading a possessive hand through her dark locks, his voice husky a bar higher than before. "_All_." Aizen's release came gradual, just a tiny jerk of hips encased in expensive tan slacks and the organ between Rukia's lips pulsed, ropes of cum filling her orifice. Obedient to the letter (which meant she wanted something) she swallowed every last drop, getting one last suck on the deflating tip before releasing with a 'pop'.

Sated for the moment, the Director of Las Noches Corp smiled pleasantly down at his soldier, never a hair out of place, never flushed with only a defiant glint in her eyes though she was still kneeling. That was what he liked about her most. Her defiance. Aizen watched as the petite girl orgasmed without a sound and brusquely plunged her hand down the waistband of her stretch pants, plucking the large vibrator from her pussy lips.

It was an unattractive item, long, thick with protuberent bumps that caressed the vaginal walls. It had a tiny molded fox's head on the opposite end. With one hand, she fixed her panties and with the other held the sex toy up to him. Aizen idly took it, turning the warmed plastic over closer. It glistened with thick strings of her pussy juices. He brought it closer to his face and sniffed at the sweetness of her scent. Feeling her intense violet eyes on him, he flicked his tongue over the penile-shaped toy.

As he'd thought, she tasted delicious.

"Now, that is over with." he murmured, gently setting the toy aside, perfunctorily he plucked a tissue from a metal letter box to the left of the desk and handed it to her, remarking, "you have cum on the corner of your lip, Kuchiki-san."

The soldier didn't blush rising from the cushion and instead of taking the proffered tissue, stared coldly at him while licking her lips. The Director smiled pleasantly, pretensing her action didn't send a spike of heat to his flaccid cock. As he crossed his legs business-like and she strode to the opposite side of the desk, he became conscious of its half-hard state.

"Would you like a pink Vibrator next time? I dislike Gin's choice." Aizen explained silkily; it was habit a new vibrator was always purchased for her everytime he called her down to his office.

Rukia crossed her arms over her sparse chest, frowning boredly. "I want a Chappy stimulator with diamonds."

Aizen smiled like a benevolent father with a hint of laciviousness to make him wholly unclean, behind the cover of the desk, taking his hardened organ out and pumping it lightly. "And you shall have it. But that wasn't all I called you here for, Kuchiki-san. There's been an accident in Karakura town, that tiny byway city seventy miles from Tokyo. I want you to lead Alpha team down to the baselab and retrieve a store of samples kept there. Get in, get out. You may run into hostile forces so choose only-"

"Ichi- Kurosaki-san comes with me." she said sternly, overriding any protest he might've founded based on her choice. A flicker of anger passed over his face. It was always for Kurosaki Ichigo-kun, wasn't it? He disliked intensely how close his 'toy' was to the boy. That explained why she had been especially attentive today...

He scowled, feeling some of his pleasurable afterglow slipping away. "Fine. _Fine_. To retrieve the G virus, I've sent Ulquiorra-" he caught a glimpse of her 'Kuchiki' mask slip and chagrin cloud her pretty face.

"Why-"

"Because he is competent."

"But-"

"No buts, Kuchiki-san. Put aside your feelings on this matter." He watched her a moment longer, noting discomfort in every line of her petite body. "You will deploy in two hours." he finally said crisply, the strain at the center of his crotch was becoming unbearable. Aizen idly wondered if it was possible to become addicted to the taste of a woman, in particular, the only sister of the Kuchiki scion.

"Come here, Rukia."

She walked around the desk again, standing straight a rod. He knew _his_ was protruding from the front of his slacks.

"Drop your panties." Aizen ordered curtly, "the time left shouldn't be spent in idleness."

The leader of Alpha strike team dropped her hands to the waistband of her pants and pulled them down, stepping out of them and padding between the man and the desk, sat at the edge, spreading her legs wide.

"Such a dirty girl," Aizen whispered appreciatively, rolling closer in his chair.

Rukia's clit was puffy already, glistening with fresh juices.

At the attention he feasted on her with his eyes, the labia spread like the petals of a delicate pink flower. She had freshly waxed as per orders, he was glad to see, leaning closer, hot breath rushing out over her marble thighs. One last thing remained:

"What do you want, Kuchiki-san?"

Had anyone overheard their conversation, they'd have thought it was about breakfast, food for the body rather than _eating_.

The petite girl scowled above his head, her gaze unseeing, it was just a game they played.

"You. God. _Eat me_." The last part sounded like a casually tossed off taunt as she hooked her legs around his shoulders and he hoisted her up by her petite ass, ramming fingers slicked with _his_ own fresh cum up her butt. Rukia wiggled but gladly pressed her throbbing snatch into his face, Aizen smirked against the heat and wetness of the girl, whispering finally, "with pleasure." and fastened his mouth greedily on her sopping clit.

...

"What did he want this time?" The orange-haired youth demanded when she strode into the common room of the Alpha team barracks. Rukia felt langorously sated between her thighs and smirked at her best friend since childhood.

"Purely mission details. We're heading down to your old backyard, Ichigo. The media reports were true. There's been a spill down in Karakura."

"No shit." He straightened, scratching at the back of his head. "Geez...I hate that place."

She stopped beside the curved sofa, plucking a bath towel from a folded pile there, some sympathy in her voice. "I know...but I wanted you there."

He adopted a cocky smirk then, facing her fully, "Rukia, have I ever told you how much of an annoying midget you are?"

Said girl rolled her eyes discreetly and turned to head toward the communal showers on the eastend block. "Every day, baka." and sauntered off, oblivious to the way the brown-eyed boy's eyes fastened to her ass. It was a hobby Ichigo couldn't break. He was just thankful his sweatpants were loose. After a few minutes longer after she had disappeared down the bend in the hallway, he trailed down it to the linens area of the barracks. There, metal cabinets lined the walls, stocked to the brim with terry cloth towels, wash towels and other bath accoutrements. Ichigo lingered there for a few more minutes, finally hearing the water turn on several down in the inner long room.

Taking a shallow breath in, he eased the door she had left neglectfully open a crack and peered into the long line of stone cubicles, swinging doors afforded a modicum of privacy while a row of high windows allowed natural early morning light to filter in.

In the gloom and steam arising from Rukia's very hot shower, he espied a hamper tugged into the middle of the floor, a black sleeve hanging from the lid out. Ichigo steathily crept up to it and taking another quick glance around, lightly nudged aside the lid. A pair of bikini-cut black lace panties was left carelessly on the top. These, he hesitantly picked up, finding they were soaked. He dared lift them closer to his face, inhaling Rukia's scent and...a saltier, more bitter odor that had stiffened the fabric on the rearend.

_Ichigo gripped the panties tightly, that bastard! Aizen. It was his cum_.

...

The ex-commander of Alpha Unit stirred from the sofa with a stuttered off snore. Sleepily, Stark Gingerback's gloved hand slid to the hand gun poking him in the ribs.

"Oh..it's just you, Ulquiorra."

"Refrain from addressing me, trash." The slender black-haired male said blandly, the white of his skin contrasted sharply to the dark of his hair and thick eyebrows, his clothing was sharply creased black pants and a turtleneck. On one arm a white band was stamped with a red biohazard symbol.

Stark yawned, shrugging, his massive frame heaving with the belly-aching effort. "So what's got your boxers in a bunch?"

The commander of Bravo Unit let a dainty scowl mar his otherwise doll-like features. "Deployment." Ulquiorra said monotonely. "Alpha and Bravo are moving out within the hour."

"Ah. Where to?"

"Karakura town." Never being one to waste words, the team leader turned his back on the man lounging in the recliner, and begun packing his med kit anew. Bravo team had no medic unlike Alpha whom employed the orange-haired Inoue Orihime, the girl was more of a nuisance than anything and mostly stuck to the trash Kurosaki's side during battles, unable to fire her own weapon. He considered her a waste of air and vapidity, disliking the fact that Alpha's current leader was 'friends' with the bubbly trash.

"So, the reports were right?" Stark asked more seriously, sitting up straighter, tucking his long, lean body in. Worry lit up his stormy grey eyes. "There's been a spill in Lab fifteen?"

Ulquiorra paused in checking over the styptic pack, choosing the least words to answer an otherwise annoying inquiry. "It seems the initial break off with HQ happened yesterday morning at eight o'clock. Dr. Grantz's lab has since been shutdown by the computer's mainframe. Casualties are unknown." with a note of finality, he placed the ointment kit into a zippered pouch and picked up the Ultrabook next.

"Are you going together with Alpha?"

"No."

The commonly lazy man known once as 'Alpha wolf' rose from the recliner, stretching muscular arms above his raffish dark head. "Guess I'll check the missions roster. If not guess then I'll go with Alpha."

Ulquiorra waited until the man's long stride had almost carried him past the room. "Butterfly doesn't require your assistance. It is only a retrieval not sniper mission."

Stark stopped, surprised Bravo's commander had resorted to using Rukia's codename. The moniker float like a butterfly definitely applied to her as she was a match for Seireitei's Soi Fong, codename: _Bee_. "If I thought you were kiddin', I'd laugh. But I know..." he slowly turned around, sighing. "You're not the joking kind. Whether or not Rukia's assessment earned her the right over me, to bear the mantle of Alpha unit, doesn't matter. I...want to protect her, as foreign as that concept is to you, Ulquiorra."

The man averted his acid green eyes, bi-colored lips compressed tightly.

"I care not for your opinions of me." he finally answered after a short while.

"Merely. Ensure that Kuchiki Rukia performs her mission as expected."

"If you're so concerned about the quality of Rukia-_chan's_ handling, why don't you rendezvous with Alpha and see for yourself after completing your objective?" Stark asked easily, tossing the childish honorific off only to see Bravo commander's pale white hands clench, jaw tighten and eyes retain a hard, flat coldness they hadn't had before when they swiveled back almost accusingly.

"That would be...impossible. Our exit points are dissimilar. It would be meaningless to cross the length of Karakura-"

"Okay. Okay! Geez, Schiffer. I was just _kidding_." Stark muttered, running a hand through his hair. "You sounded right now as if you _wanted_ to rendezvous with Alpha and was only trying to hide it."

To that near accusation, the green-eyed leader averted his face down and proceeded to unpack extra cartridges of ammunition he'd received from the armory. Alpha's ex-wolf eyed him for a moment longer before turning on heel and walking away deeper into the complex.

Ulquiorra listened to Stark's receding steps and removed an extra carton from the fool Grimmjow's and setting it aside.

...

Rukia took a deep, steadying breath, retrieving her cold impersonal mask from her collection. Leading Alpha team's seven agents had always done this to her: given her a case of nerves. Approaching the common room, she could hear the conversational voices of Inoue and Gingerback raised. Stark had called up 'Aizen-sama' and asked specifically to go with his old team. Usually the ex wolf loitered around HQ, occasionally training new recruits and going on missions with either Bravo or Alpha. She was fond of the older man, mostly for his lazy laidback attitude that hid steely resolve while on the front. Rukia was barely in sight of the last turn before the team came into sight when a large muscled body smacked into her shoulder striding the opposite way.

"Hey!" she cried, buffeted by the male's sheer size as well as his catty smirk when he stopped

"Oops. Didn't see you there, Kuchiki-pendeja."

"Whaaaat!" she snapped, pivoting around to face Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, pure 100% Spaniard muscle with unique electric blue hair, tanned skin and sharp teal eyes. His canines were especially sharp when he bared them at her and let off a racuous round at her expression.

"What did you call me!"

From the common room, Ichigo let out an imprecation, "dammit, Grimmjow! Leave the midget alone!"

Stark was much calmer, sounding terribly bored. "Pantera, report down to Schiffer and explain to him why you were late for mission briefing."

At that, the tall blue terror wore an ugly scowl and abruptly turned on heel, giving her a funny backwards wave that was distinctly European in origin. Somewhat amazed, Rukia blinked at his non-violent retreat and entered the common room.

"Is Schiffer leaving before us?"

Stark, having already finished his packing, slung the heavy canvas bag over one shoulder, yawningly said, "no. Just one thing Grimmjow hates above Kurosaki and being put-down, is Ulquiorra." He was attired in standard black snug-fitting pants, long-sleeve waffle-knit shirt with high collar and over the ankle combat boots. He had yet to don the heavy reinforced Kevlar vest or arm guards. Rukia's gaze wandered up and down the portion she could see of his body appreciatively, wondering how such a lazy man could keep-

Ichigo abruptly snapped his fingers. "Hey, earth to midget-sama."

"Shut up, baka." she said mechanically.

Inoue looked at their playful bickering worriedly, composing her face into a tiny smile. "Ohayo, Kuchiki-san."

"The same to you, Inoue." Rukia smiled, going around the couches to hoist her own pre-packed bag over her shoulder. She had dressed fully in the regulation pants and top and already donned her outer vest which extended past her hips, affording protection from errant rounds. Inoue had upswept her long orange hair into a neat bun with only a few strands dusting her cheekbones. Two hand guns were n the sidearm holsters, one under each arm, almost completely hidden by her buxom breasts. Rukia sent her friend a covert glance but the girl seemed the same as usual, quietly asking Stark if he had brought along an extra hunting knife as she had forgotten hers.

The ex wolf wordlessly unstrapped the long leather-sheafed item from his waist and handed it to her. Inoue took it gratefully and attached it to her boot. Ichigo ran a hand through his already sticky-outy spiked hair and crossed his arms, "hey, Rukia, what else do we know about the mission?"

Here was what she had been dreading. Yes, there was a spill. The garbled feed routed from Karakura lab 15's servers had said that much...but what was the extent? had it reached ground surface-level?

"I don't know." she said honestly, frowning. The reports in the media had been that Karakura's mayor was reassuring the civilians that the KPD was doing everything possible to protect them. The usual bullshit of staying indoors and locking all doors and windows during the day. That was yesterday. A rash of murders had taken place on the east end of town, coincidentally not far from where the entrance to Lab 15's antebuilding was. Rukia hoped sincerely that it wasn't related.

People killing people was the norm.

What wasn't, was a viral spill.

She locked violet with warm brown of her friend and sighed. "I don't know. We'll assess the situation once we're there." Ichigo seemed on the verge of saying something else when she broke stares and glanced around, surprised. "Where's Ishida and Sado?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes scowling. "Where else? That bastard has Chad lined up for 'copter already on the launching pad. You think he'd risk being 'late'?"

...

"You pack too lightly."

"It's always the same with you." Rukia growled, glaring at the impassive-faced man seated across, strapped in by harness to the side wall of the belly of the aircraft. "Nothing but glaring insults to my leadership."

"You imagine things. I was merely remarking on your lack of fresh munitions on your person." Ulquiorra responded, closing his eyes. Rukia growled under breath some more, fidgeting in the harness to pluck at the pouches bearing magazine rounds in her breast pockets and waist belt.

"What do you know about it!"

"A soldier should always be prepared."

She rolled her violet eyes; an upsurge of turbulence rocked the metal body of the 'copter and everyone was jostled violently up and down. Rukia set her teeth and rode it out, fixating her glare on his face. Ulquiorra was...beautiful. Even she could admit that. Once he kept his thinly sensual mouth shut, he could've had a pick of any of the paramilitary women at HQ, including Inoue. But he was single; that didn't stop many from trying. What women saw with the asshole, was something she never understood.

His eyes opened. "Do you think you can kill me by glaring, Kuchiki-san?"

"You're an asshole." she sneered ungracefully.

"And you have a very dirty mouth."

She looked as though he'd slapped her. Ulquiorra knew it was a low blow but couldn't refrain from the spark of bitterness he'd accidentally injected. To cover-up he went on smoothly, sliding free a gloved hand to pick up the tiny drawstring pack at his hip. "Take this." and slid from the shoulder harness, to hand the heavy bag over. Cautiously Rukia eyed it, lips pursing. "What is it?" and struggled to reach out. Ulquiorra let out a quiet impatient sigh and leaned almost completely over, intentionally bumping hands.

Rukia scowlingly retrieved the bag from him and quickly pulled back, clumsily unknotting it with one hand, surprise lighting up her face when she discovered extra magazine cartridges.

"What...?"

"Take it." he repeated firmly, closing his eyes, half-turning to the side presenting his delicate profile. Only raising his voice toward the other end of the cockpit. "Cease your talk, Jeagerjaques." the low hiss was directed to Ichigo and Grimmjow's sneering rivalry across from each other. Alpha was known as the stronger team while Bravo the weaker. Codename: Pantera was trying to disprove that notion by challenging Ichigo to a gun battle after the mission.

The blue-haired man snarled mid-sentence at the command, champing at the bit while Ichigo smirked. Rukia meanwhile, felt inside the bag and found seven cartridges in total. There were seven members in Bravo unit, she began to wonder if he had skimmed off Bravo's allotted ammunition.

"But...why?"

"I said you take little ammunition with you." He murmured, switching his acid green gaze to her coldly, after a few seconds mental war with Grimmjow's teal. "If you run into a dangerous situation, you're unprepared to handle it."

She felt strange as he said it. _Did that mean he_-

Something must've shown in her look, for Ulquiorra went on with a faint trace of a sneer curling his black upper lip. " Use it wisely. Make sure you don't hit _air_, Kuchiki-san."

"Why do you always pick on me?" the words flew from her lips abruptly.

"Because I want you for myself." he answered baldly, unblinkingly.

Her mouth started to fall open.

If it was possible, the interior of the 'copter went deathly silent.

Ulquiorra stared at her shock and deadpanned, "can't you take a joke?"

Rukia gaped at him open-mouthed and then broke out of her trance, clawing at her harness, trying to find her gun. "You asshole! That wasn't even funny!"

Meanwhile further down, Stark muttered to himself in some amazement, "Schiffer cracked...a joke on his own volition?"

Thankfully no one answered that.

...9:20 AM Karakura town Park...

Hitsugaya let out a groan that sounded like grating metal. His body was contorted in an odd position, weight it felt was crushing his lungs into his knees and he had a splitting headache. The white-haired Corporate lawyer struggled to sit upright, banging his head on the twisted remains of the seat in front of him and finding heavier items just a breadths off his back. His shocked eyes slid to the side. From the settling dust, he saw a stewardess's blue-clad arm lying in the aisleway.

_They had crashed. _

_Oh Kami_.

A wave of claustrophobia washed over him and he fought down the churning panic in his stomach. For now he thought only of himself and pushed upward, angling his elbows up and back to gain more leverage. The rest of the wreckage was eerily silent save for the occasional creaks and groans of the twisted metal hulk. Hitsugaya pressed harder and let out a frustrated snarl, shoving back forcefully. There was a shift suddenly in the weight and it went crashing off of him to the smashed seat beside him. Hitsugaya straightened and immediately started coughing, the smell was horrible.

Death was the only thing he could liken it to.

Blood and fecal matter and smoke curling from one of the broken engines outside.

He stumbled up, only then noticing his briefcase had been what had saved him. He snatched it up protectively from the floor and cautiously swept his gaze around the rest of the hull. He was struck with the sudden thought, _where were all the passengers! Come to think of it...why weren't there sirens and police by now? _

The stewardess's arm was all that was left of her.

Hitsugaya saw and nearly vomited up the wheat muffin Hinamori had pressed on him back in Tokyo. "Kami..." he whimpered weakly instead and stumbled around the worst of the bloodstains on the beige carpeting. The cockpit towards the front end of the plane had been smashed into crushed metal but on the side a gaping hole had been bored into the side from the large trees the plane had torn out before plowing into the ground. Hitsugaya angled for the hole, his legs weak, shaking, head pounding with stifled adrenaline.

Feeling almost dizzy with skin-crawling claustrophobia, he scrambled over the broken bucket seats and swung his face out into the smoky air of the outside. He took in deep gulps of air and with the ease of claustrophobia, finally took in the scene of the green spread marred by uprooted trees and children's playground equipment lying mangled in the sand pit not thirty feet away from the smashed wingtip of the Boeing 47.

"Kami.." his heart clenched in his chest seeing the pink of a sandal down below. The lightheadedness receded more and he cautiously swung one foot out, balancing on the piled debris outside the hole, clambering down noisily. Hitsugaya winced at the sound of tumbling plane debris knocked loose from his descent and glanced around, coughing a little now that the smoke from the engines was closer.

Then he heard a sound.

No.

Not a sound.

Somewhat like a moan. He thought immediately of someone in great distress and hurried forward, ignoring his cramping legs.

"Hello?" he croaked out, barely recognizing the rasp as his voice. It bounced, echoing eerily in the destroyed park. Through the passing haze, he thought he saw movement. "Hello? I-Is someone hurt?" he faltered as a figure stumbled forward, seemingly honing in on the sound of his voice.

There was something wrong with the woman.

Of that he was sure. Hitsugaya fought down internal, unreasonable panic telling himself that the flash of desperate hunger in her eyes was only because she was frightened. For the life of him, after glimpsing the dirty, blood-spattered face of the haggard, lurching figure, he couldn't remember whether or not she had been on the plane or was just a poor civilian enjoying a day at the Park.

"Ma'am...ma'am...calm down. Does it hurt anywhere?" he tried, forcing a steadiness to his voice. Hitsugaya extended his arms, lightly warding off her hands reaching out, curling into loose grasping claws. "Ma'am, are you injured any-"

Then more shuffling sounds.

Abruptly he froze and swiveled his head from side to side, taking in the sight of the other lurching figures stumbling toward him, arms outstretched.

_Oh Kami. This was like a horror movie or something_...immediately at the frivolous thought he clamped down on it and caught his breath, unable to finish his sentence. There was the stewardess with one arm missing, dragging half her bloodied body across the ground, leaving deep red smears into the grass, clawing feebly with her good hand toward _him_.

And there was the Pilot, bitten up as if by wild animals.

More and more were crawling from the undergrowth, some lurching wildly on two legs, the same dull hunger in their bloodshot eyes. Hitsugaya backed up until his back hit the rubble he had scrambled out on. A metallic scramble came from behind him, several feet above his head and with it a snarling sound. His heart threatened to burst from his chest as he half-turned, looking back over his shoulder into the dimness of the shattered front cab of the plane.

"Oh Kami...they're all dead." he whispered as the first hand clawed out.

...

They were in sight of the city.

Rukia relaxed, the bag of ammunition stowed already in her pack. Ulquiorra had his eyes closed, gas mask on, regulation reinforced Hoodie over the thick plastic. She had left the mask off temporarily, having her arm guards and thick gloves on to almost complete her biohazard suit.

"We're descending into Karakura Town, complete your Hazmat details now. It is advised you keep your mask on at all times. I'm looking ya, Kuchiki-chan!" semi-yelled Kaien Shiba, last member of the Alpha team. He was the 'copter pilot for all their missions and rarely lent support unless it was by air. She smirked at the man behind the glass wall and took up the heavy breathing filter. Ever the punctual professional soldier, Ishida had donned his ever since boarding the 'copter and sat in perfect silence next to the large Mexican, Yasutora Sado, affectionately known as 'Chad' by Ichigo.

They were all from Karakura save for her and Stark. The composed ex wolf was sagging in his harness, snoring softly through the airtube. She bit down her giggles at that. While beside him, a seat closer on Alpha's side, Ichigo was twisting in his seat, trying to look out the small studded porthole windows.

"Christ...what the fuck happened?" his soft exclamation stirred Inoue and Ishida to regard him curiously.

The 'com crackled on, Kaien's voice came through with a hint of worry. "Now, now, kids, settle down."

Rukia looked to her best friend then twisted to the side, uncomfortably angling to peer out the small round window next to her. Ulquiorra had awakened by this time but appeared none the least distressed.

"Oh my God...is the city burning?" she whispered; the atmosphere in the belly of the metal beast grew tense. Kaien's crackling voice came on briefly again. "Hey, take care down there. I'm going to circle around City Hall for Bravo before heading to Las Noches' downtown office for Alpha. Remember, you guys are on your own until zero hour."

Ichigo grimaced and pulled back from the window showing slices of burning buildings and billowing black smoke choking the blue sky. "Dammit! Are you sure that bastard Aizen hasn't withheld information from us?"

"Kurosaki!" she barked furiously, aware that Ulquiorra's acid green eyes had narrowed.

The tense orange-haired male scowled her way, "what! I'm just sayin'-"

The 'com crackled and Kaien sounded stern for once. "Shut your mouth, boy. I'm taking us down soon, so you'd better get your balls in order!"

Ichigo sagged, averting his scowl to the floor.

Seeming to sense it, Kaien went on slightly kindlier. "I'm worried too, _cuzz_. You're not the only one from Karakura."

...11AM Above City Hall...

The 'copter hovered forty feet above the circular spread out rooftop of Karakura City Hall.

Ulquiorra gave the signal and the six soldiers uniformly released the harnesses strapping them into their seats and stood. He nodded curtly once and started to walk down the central aisle toward the back end of the 'copter. Rukia had nothing to say to her compatriot team leader but he paused, adding softer over his shoulder, muffled because of the heavy gas mask and goggles hiding his acid green eyes from sight. "Take care, Kuchiki."

Her throat closed up on a response so she said nothing, still flummoxed that a man who seemed to hate her, would wish such a sentiment. She was taken from her musings by Ichigo's casual, "break a leg, Jeagerjaques."

The burly Pantera flashed a crude finger gesture at the Alpha team agent, cackling, "go fuck yourself, Kurosaki."

The cheeky male chuckled distortingly in the gas mask, "no, really. _Break your leg_."

Rukia sighed at their immaturity, putting aside her reflections on Ulquiorra for later. Bravo team assembled at the back end of the 'copter, a rush of decompressing air gusting inside as the inner folded ramp extended out, grappling ropes at the ready.

Daredevil Grimmjow went first, yelling as he stepped to the edge, grasping the thick black rope and swinging precariously into the open, smoky air of Karakura, "Te vaya bien, Kuchiki!" with another hair-raising cackle, he swung off, rappelling down to the rooftop.

She blinked in surprise, "what...?"

Stark, having been awakened a second time from the noise, yawned sleepily. "He says _good luck_ more or less."

Oh. She hadn't been expecting that.

The remainder of Bravo team rappelled quickly and efficiently down and Kaien closed the exit ramp, cuing the 'com as the 'copter circled away, heading toward the downtown destination of Las Noches office.

"Well now that stick-up-his-ass _Bats_ is gone, let's have some music!" Kaien crowed, pressing a button in the cockpit triumphantly. The loud strains of Kevin Rudolf's _Let it Rock_ poured into the belly of the metal beast.

(Ulquiorra's codename: Murcielago- Bat)

Rukia rolled her eyes, "you're such a dork, Kaien."

"Hahahaha! But you love me, right, Kuchiki?" he sounded just like a puppy dog, begging for a bone.

"In your dreams." she muttered, hiding her smile; oblivious as everyone else was to Ichigo's dark scowl.

...

"We're on schedule." Ulquiorra murmured into the headset.

It was important for all agents to keep contact at all time.

Alpha team's chopper was a grey-metal speck in the distance, distinct whir-whir roar tossed and carried far on the wind. Ulquiorra strode across the graveled rooftop to the small storage-shed to the left, trying the door only to find it locked.

He sighed at the annoyance, slanting his visor-clad face to Grimmjow's tall bulk leaning on the high railing, peering down below. They were forty stories off the ground.

"What are you looking at, Jeagerjaques?" he asked calmly.

Nnoitora sauntered up beside them, and leaned over, peering out. "Wow, no shit! Look at the welcome committee!"

Ulquiorra looked for himself and saw scores of figures surging from the doors of city hall to pivot about and wander mob-like in the general direction of downtown Karakura. _Were they...following the course of the chopper? The sound? _

The thought was confusing and made little sense. Briskly he turned away from the railing and withdrew his handgun, clocking the safety off and firing a round into the deadbolt. "Let's go. We're here to simply accomplish the mission. Anything else isn't our concern." he glimpsed Zommari motion to Halibel and Tesla while Grimmjow and Nnoitora lingered at the rails.

He sighed at their idiocy but kept his handgun close as he entered the stairwell.

...

"Jerk." Grimmjow muttered, once rapid boot clicks of Bravo team's leader had faded. Zommari had kept close to Ulquiorra and gone on ahead with the silent Halibel trailing after them, while subservient Tesla waited in the doorway for Nnoitora.

"I dislike 'kyorra mehself." Nnoitora responded, crooking a hand on his skinny hip. "But don'tcha think, Grimm...it's odd that I coulda sworn one of them people down there ...stopped when 'kyorra shot the lock out?"

Tesla chose then to interrupt gently, "Master Nnoitora, Grimm-san, we shouldn't linger."

Said man started moving away from the rail while Grimmjow hung back, his hackles rising for no reason at all. There was something seriously wrong with this shitty town. _He could just feel it_.

...

Rukia checked the com links one more time. Bravo team had been given the easier mission of simply retrieving the store of virus samples kept in the Mayor's false safe and waiting on top of the same rooftop for pickup. Alpha's was much longer.

"Alright, keep a tight line. No straying for stuck kittens, Inoue!" she snapped, circling back around as their 'copter lifted off higher into the sky. Ichigo finished hi-fiving Chad and the only other female member of Alpha would've been pouting had she not been wearing several layers of gear and a gas mask.

"Aww, but, Kuchiki-san!"

She tried to stay serious, "no buts."

Stark seemed to sleeping on his feet or nearly but snapped awake when Rukia strode by, swatting him on the rear with her gear bag.

"Wakey, wakey. The mission's begun, you lazy jerk."

"How'd you know that was my spot?" he commented, following into her stride easily with his longer legs.

"From your sister." Rukia muttered. Lilinette Gingerback was a miniature terror, known for jumping on sleeping people and otherwise being a nuisance. Before she'd been shipped off to an overseas boarding school, the tiny green-haired girl had given Rukia in all confidence, the way to wake her narcoleptic brother up was to grab and squeeze his balls. Or grab his ass.

"Is that the only place she told you of?" Stark sounded dryly curious.

Rukia felt a smirk he couldn't see, forming. "No. I know of _the other_."

"Aa."

Ichigo was arguing with Ishida over sewing was for girls and couldn't hear them. She knew she was tempting things, toeing the invisible line between she and the ex Alpha wolf. "In fact she told me to feel you up myself..." she licked her lips nervously inside the mask. "Said you've got quite a package."

"It's always available for whenever you want it." Stark tossed off easily, hooking gloved thumbs into the slit pockets of his pants.

She smirked, deliberately striding ahead (follow the leader) swinging her hips, adding over her shoulder. "Is that an offer, wolfie?"

He snorted softly. "Only you, Mariposa. For only you."

(Butterfly: mariposa)

...

Hitsugaya heard the helicopter before he saw it.

It passed directly over the park.

He careened blindly through the bushes, legs burning, the sound blurring into his brain as one thing.

Salvation.

Kami. It had to be the Japanese army or at the very least American forces from Okinawa...even a Police SWAT team would've been welcome. Anything resembling order like what he knew. But Hitsugaya tore through the last fringe of trees, the slower gait of the shambling corpses left behind temporarily, and he saw the black metal chopper fly directly ahead heading in a northeasterly direction.

He locked eyes on it with desperation and started forward almost tripping.

At the last possible moment, he saw the crimson insignia emblazoned on the side.

_Biohazard._

_Las Noches Inc_.

It was for all standing, the enemy.

...11:30AM...

Kaien Shiba knew his line of work was dangerous.

He was also the best damn chopper pilot in all the world. He liked to boast so even if it was not necessarily true. He was better than the poor jittery sap Ilforte Grantz from Bravo team, kami rest his soul. The blond brother of the weirdo Grantz siblings, had gone down in a fiery crash after taking off (without Bravo team) from a Helipad on Pitcairn island after assassinating a top scientist hiding out there on that kamiforsaken spit of land.

Alpha team had to move out that time to get the remaining agents off the island before Seireitei mongrels arrived.

He remembered Schiffer and Aizen being furious beyond words at the blondie's cowardice and because of that, had relocated Szayel Grantz to the town struggling to be a big city attraction: Karakura town. Kaien glided the 'copter in low, daring to pass through gaps in between buildings, the plated windows rippling with the force of the air gusting from the propeller wings. Once he took his eyes off the front shield and shot a glance to the side, seeing over a dozen pale ghost faces pressing up against the glass, clamoring to..._what?_

_Get out?_

The notion was..._off_ and Kaien frowned, humming under his breath as 'the baby' he so affectionately called the 'copter, glided up at a single light touch of the controls, and over into a higher altitude. Though he wouldn't admit it, those faces staring at him, had made chills break out on his skin.

His blue eyes slid to the fuel gauge and noted the needle dropping into the redline of low fuel. He'd been warned back at HQ that he would have to land at the airstrip and refuel. He checked the GPS and circled back, gliding the large metal beast in a graceful arc over the town square and heading back up the boulevard.

This time, he went over the tops of the buildings rather than coast between them.

Once that was cleared, he descended over a tree-filled circular area he knew at a glance was Sakuraboshi park. His dark brow furrowed as he saw the plowed path of the plane lying in the middle of where the playground once was.

Though it was against regulation rules, he wondered if any had survived.

...

"This was all our mission entailed. Recovering the G-virus sample from the Mayor's safe." Ulquiorra said crisply, respinning the dial back to its previous setting. It was unlikely anyone else would ever open it again. Grimmjow nodded distractedly, "what about Kuchiki's?"

"Alpha's mission is to retrieve anything of perceivable use from Dr. Grantz's lab and destroy everything else." Ulquiorra unshouldered his pack on the littered desk and unzipping it, retrieved a metal case taken for the sample itself. The thick glass vial contained a shimmering electric blue serum, flecks of gold flittered through.

"So she's got the more dangerous mission."

He gripped the glass vial tightly, unthinkingly. "Yes." when a slight 'crkk' sound came from it, he hastily slipped it into the velcro fastening. Speaking of Alpha team continuously made him uneasy. Ulquiorra took up the next vial of orange-brown serum, remarking blandly, "I heard something in the hallway, check and see if it is the Mayor."

Grimmjow rolled his teal eyes and sucked his sharp canines in the gas mask's confines, dragging his feet as he sauntered from the room. It had been a lie but he preferred the relative quiet afforded by the private office and placed the HN virus into a velcro lapel taking up a second of the same when he did hear something.

Scritch-scratch.

Like nails on tiled floors.

Ulquiorra paused, straining his ears, wondering if Grimmjow was foolish enough to attempt to one-up him. That assumption was proved null when the thud-thump of boot clicks padded back, as indolent as before, Grimmjow stopped just in the doorway, rubbing at the back of the rubber mask. "Aw, geez. You're hearing things, Bats. There's nothin-"

He stiffened, catching sight of motion in the mirror to his left.

There was an animal at the end of the hallway. It was reflected in the large antique mirror hanging opposite the Mayor's desk, it lurked right over Grimmjow's broad shoulder. "Close the door. _Now_." Ulquiorra breathed, one hand slipping the vial in his breast pocket to free up his shooting arm. Grimmjow hesitated, "huh? Why-"

"Do it." he bit off.

The animal - _dog_, muscular, sleek, started moving, rhythmic tap-taps. Why did every sense in his body tense and scream it was wrong? "Do it now!" he barked uncharacteristically. Grimmjow jolted and pivoted around, hearing the feral snarl at almost the same time. His teal eyes widened and he grappled momentarily for the rifle over his shoulder, abandoning it when the canine started running, pounding up the long hallway.

The startled soldier grasped the door and banged it shut seconds before the feral animal barreled into it, snapping and snarling at the heavy oak panel. Grimmjow braced against it, cussing, "what the fuck-"

Ulquiorra caught his breath and immediately started tapping at the com piece in his ear. "Can you read me, Bravo team! Stay back! I repeat-" he broke off, the line was flooded with static. "No.." he murmured, hand dropping to his handgun. He strode around the desk, cocking the safety off. Grimmjow stared at him wildly, "no fucking way you're goin' out there!"

"We don't have time for this." he said patiently. "Move."

"Fuck you, Ulquiorra."

They both heard scrambling pairs of footsteps.

Ulquiorra's jaw clenched, he tapped the com again, raising his voice. "Bravo team! Stay back! Get back! Hostile forces-"

Loud barking.

A hail of gunfire, Grimmjow shot like a light from the doorway, hissing, stumbling to the floor on one knee, hand flying to cover the hole shot through his thigh. Ulquiorra stepped back as well, diving to the side in a crouch beside the front of the large desk.

"Sonofabitch!" Grimmjow spat, clenching his teeth.

All too soon the gunfire faded.

He tapped the com receiving a beeping end. "Bravo team, ceasefire."

Careful then, he rose and went to the door, ignoring Grimmjow's whimpers and opened the portal finding fresh spatters of dark blood staining the floor. The corpse of a half-mauled canine lay several feet away. Gun smoke hung heavy in the air. Ulquiorra analyzed the situation immediately, gaze going to Nnoitora Gilga slumped against the left wall of the corridor, his rifle was slung across his lap and he was cradling his arm, attempting to stem the thick flow of red blood.

"It fucking bit me! That piece o' shit took a chunk clean outta me!" Nnoitora cussed, taking away his gloved hand from his arm and waving it at his leader incredulously. Halibel's heeled boots tapped daintily from the shadow of the staircase, her rifle was in her hands. "You provoked it." she said calmly, switching her gaze to Ulquiorra then to Grimmjow limping from the Mayor's office.

"Okay. Who fucking shot?" Codename: Pantera growled.

Halibel's gas mask-clad face turned down toward Nnoitora. "The Mantis did."

"It was either that or get eaten, ya stupid bitch!"

"Be quiet." Ulquiorra ordered disgustedly. Grimmjow stumped up to them, breathing hard, snapping, "and who the fuck taught you how to shoot, you fuckwad! You shot _me_, asshole! You shot your own fucking teammate!" the easily irate Pantera raged at the sulking Mantis. Ulquiorra calmly slid the charger back on the handgun, the sharp rapport instantly silencing the two soldiers.

"Now would you get your-"

Scritch-Scratch.

More.

He froze, remembering the samples. The mission always came first. The dogs came from the third connecting hallway that lead toward the front of the office. Nnoitora, wincing, stood up shakily, hissing, "well fuck me...there's more of them bastards."

Halibel quietly aimed, her visor tilted in the direction of the motionless canines peering around the corner. "K9 unit. They're from the KPD."

"Fuck wherever they came from." Nnoitora hissed, having a hard time lifting his rifle.

Ulquiorra sized up the dogs and the short space between them and the open door. There was another door from the Mayor's office leading into a stairwell which in turn came to a private carpark, from there it opened out onto a side street. Bravo team was meant to be picked up from the roof.

Without warning he set off, bolting down the hallway toward the office. Halibel and Nnoitora yelled after him and the dogs snarled simultaneously. He was ready for them and fired a volley of rounds as the closest leapt toward him, the rest made pivoting bounds down the short hallway. Soon enough Grimmjow's lumbering gait was racing at his heels and the panting teal-haired soldier fended off a charge from one of the snarling four-footed animals, bashing it across the head with the butt of his rifle and pulling the door shut with a satisfying bang. A simultaneous one came from Halibel and Nnoitora, escaping into the other doorway just off the stairs.

"Why'd you follow me?" he asked logically, after advancing to the desk and neglected samples case.

Grimmjow panted hard, hoarsely. "What-?"

"Why did you-"

"Oh. Oh that! Just shut the fuck up for once, Ulquiorra." Grimmjow spat, turning and sliding the bolt home on the door just in case. "Someone's gotta keep your ass alive."

Surprised by the answer, he remained silent and begun gathering up the vials from the desk.

_Malaria vaccine._

_Tuberculosis vaccine_.

He slid them all into the pouch and repacked the metal kit, noticing that there was no vaccine for the G. Strange. Had Dr. Kurosaki taken the antidote to the grave with him? Finally shouldering the pack, he left out a medikit, motioning exasperatedly for the other to approach.

"We must take care of your wound."

"No thanks." Grimmjow muttered, holding his hands up. "I'll take of it myself." and walked over to a knocked over chair, bracing his boot high and prodding at the damp quality of the bullet wound, reached backwards for a tiny zipper. Surprised once again, Ulquiorra watched narrowly through the tinted visor as Grimmjow pulled out a can of _Santen Kesshun_ antiseptic wound sealant.

"Where did you-"

"Last time I went solo with Alpha, Kuchiki gave me one."

This bit of news shouldn't have bothered him. Ulquiorra rammed the medikit unceremoniously into the pack. _But it did_. The tightness in his chest wouldn't ease no matter how he declaimed it as irrational, meaningless to his duty. Bravo team was split now but that mattered little, accomplishing the mission was the priority.

...

"Gunfire." Tesla murmured. Halibel had ordered he and Leroux to stay on the landing two flights up from the floor where Bravo team leader and Pantera, had headed for. Tesla knew Halibel was a better shot than he but couldn't suppress the niggling fear that Nnoitora had been hurt.

"We wait for Schiffer." Leroux said with calm finality. Leroux was unlike brash Grimmjow, with a penchant for quietude like Tia Halibel. He got along best with Schiffer, the leader of the second-best. Never mind that Alpha was lead by a girl, Nnoitora often sneered; _Kuchiki Rukia was the epitome of a leader prized by Aizen Sosuke_. During assessment held each year, agents of Bravo and Alpha would trade off for the duration of a week to complete arduous tasks in New Borneo, an island off the coast of Australia where their physical and mental prowess was tested.

Tesla had a secret about the last assessment. Nnoitora Gilga had failed the mental test and was left to Bravo's second-rate missions. But afterwards in the barracks, Kuchiki had gone over and presented _him_ with the platinum certificate, meaning he had passed both levels required and was Alpha material. He had been ashamed at the competence he was praised for and Kuchiki's gentle prodding for him to join Alpha in the re-swearing in.

How could he leave Nnoitora-sama?

That was the answer he had given her helplessly.

Kuchiki had understood in the end and told him that a position in Alpha would always be open. Tesla hesitantly clutched his rifle, his good eye peering through the visor. His slice of vision wasn't perfect decent enough. Leroux, a large black man from an African mercenaries unit, recruited by Aizen, had his weapon at ease, leaning against the inner wall, seeming to be meditating.

"Shouldn't we-" Tesla faltered as more gunfire splintered the silence and the barking of dogs.

Leroux snapped out of his state and primed his rifle quickly, tapping the inner ear com. "Schiffer! You're breaking up! What's-"

Tesla heard the scratch of claws on metal pushing up. He started from the landing, flying through the doorway into the room where Zommari was, slamming the door with lightning fast reflexes, catching a glimpse of the first beast hitting the land. He bolted the door just as the panel rattled.

Leroux cussed softly, hearing nothing but static on the line.

"Nnoitora-sama..."

"Keep your head together, soldier!" Leroux barked, jumping as the flimsy door started buckling. Tesla backed up around the desk, keeping his rifle pointed at the door. Leroux matched him, circling around the other side of the desk.

Tesla primed his rifle, hearing the scratch of an animal at the door and then something like a muffled groan echoed from behind him. He spun around, finger on the trigger, and found himself visor to face with what used to be a man, a civilian from the looks of the stained blue-striped suit and navy tie. The man's watery remaining eye fixated on Tesla and the slavering maw missing part of its mandible side fell open in a sonorous hungry wail.

Tesla didn't take his eye off it for one second, opening fire.

Leroux did the same with a strange half-yell, peppering something from _under_ the pushed together desks.

...

The splinter of gunfire from the upper floors sent the hackles rising in the stupid rubber suit they all wore. Grimmjow hated the clinging thing and the up the nose respirator filtering airborne particles from the lungs. It still smelled like shit, couldn't do anything about that.

"That's gotta be Leroux and Lindocruz."

Ulquiorra, the shit, didn't even pay attention to him, bent over as he was, scanning a sheaf of papers spread out over the Mayor's desk. Grimmjow had heard the words Biohazard, 'spill' 'virus' and the most enigmatic motherfucker of them all, before.

'B.O.W'

Were the milky blind-looking eyed dogs B. ? They had looked pretty fucked up, he hadn't had a close look, bashing the skull in on one. But he thought he'd seen the grey pink organs of one through the caved-in ribs. That was some pretty messed up shit if he thought hard about it.

Dead dogs walking.

Why wasn't Ulquiorra fazed?

"Hey, you listenin' ta me?" Grimmjow snapped, stepping away from the door just in case. He had switched the MP5K to automatic but left the safety on, he hefted the solid weapon in his hands and stared hard at the asshole mumbling to himself. Thanks to the air raid mask, he couldn't see the expression Ulquiorra had.

"I did. They are simply carrying out orders."

"What do you mean?"

"Must I spell everything plain out for you?"

"Well you're the fucking leader."

Ulquiorra sighed, "Bravo team was given separate orders. We were to contain as much of the spill as possible and plant falsified documents that Pharmaceutical corporation Seireitei Inc was responsible. The media will have a field day with the news and Las Noches Corp. will stand up to provide clean-up assistance."

He understood then. "So...we gettin' extra for this?"

If the mask had been gone, he'd have seen the tiniest jerk of lips, framing a slight smile. "It's already been deposited into each of the seven accounts as soon the Helicopter left the private airstrip."

"Well fuck me." It felt like they were finally one-upping fucking Alpha.

To that, Bats gave a _tiny_ snort and swept up the documents he'd just been studying and packed them into his bag, replacing them with stamped sets bearing the seal of Thirteen, Seireitei's holier-than fucking thou insignia. Grimmjow watched with interest as Ulquiorra tapped his 'com again, "Leroux, Tia, come in."

There was scratchy silence in his own ear piece then Halibel responded first.

"Here." She was a fucking perfect match for Ulquiorra. Always preserving a silence-is-golden rule.

"Use any means possible to evac the building."

"Rendezvous?"

Leroux's deep gravel reiterated Tia. "Where is zero hour?"

Zero hour codename for _get-us-the-fucking-hell-outta-here_.

"There's a train depot on the west edge of Karakura whoever arrives first will wait for the rest of the team. Kill any civilians you find en route but do not waste ammunition unnecessarily."

"Got it." Tia said briskly, far off in the background, sounding like shit or maybe it was just the breaking up 'com link, Nnoitora muttered, "what the fuck did he say! I'm on automatic, bitches! I-"

"Shut up, Gilga." The half-Mexican blond snapped crisply. Halibel was only slightly more efficient at keeping the Columbian rebel-rouser in line than Ulquiorra. That didn't mean that any of them respected her a jot.

"You will stay on semi-automatic." Ulquiorra ordered deathly calm. Fuck, that voice alone made him surreptitiously change the lock on the MP5K. Nothing but the sound of retching could be heard. Grimmjow wondered just long enough if that was Nnoitora's undignified response but then heard Halibel's heel clicks and slight worry.

"Are you alri-"

"Yeah yeah!" The Mantis was up in seconds, coughing deep hacking coughs that made Grimmjow wonder if he had a cold and if it was contagious. Then he remembered the dogs.

Nnoitora had been bitten.

Was it some sort of rabies?

"Fuck you, Halibel. We heard ya, bat-shit." Nnoitora sneered sounding perfectly normal, "shoot ta kill same as always!" another cough and the click of a mag being clocked into the holder. "I'mma be the first one at that train, ya bitches and if you ain't there-"

"You have your orders." Ulquiorra replied, getting in the last word like usual. His gloved fist at ear-level snapped the appropriate switch. "Shoot them in the head." and cut the communication.

...

"What is this...some kind o' fuckin' horror movie-" Nnoitora exclaimed loudly his stringy black hair falling past his sharp, angular jaw. His skin was pallid and sweating and his eyes had a glazed look that hadn't been there before. Halibel stepped away from the quadruple row of sinks, not bothering this time to steady the Mantis as he picked around the pile of sick on the floor.

His boots skidded and he snatched wildly at the jutting out sink lip.

"Watch your step." she said in a monotone, he snarled at her back, forsaking the goopy head gear on the side of the floor. One handed he had wrapped his bleeding arm in a tourniquet but she could still see fresh blood seeping out.

Any other medaid he refused.

Halibel let him suit himself, taking the cautionary lead to the opposite door, shooting the lock out when it wouldn't give. The magnum round sounded impossibly loud in the silence. Using her free hand, she opened the door and poked the muzzle out into the shadowy utilitarian route. As she'd thought, there was a third staircase built maze-like into the City hall, meant for janitorial services to stay out of sight of the Politicos.

She started down the stairs, keeping her rifle primed in one hand, the other giving intermittent glances to the plain cell phone displaying a tiny GPS layout of City hall. After a few minutes of quiet descent, Nnoitora's strangely over-warm gloved hand shot out and grasped her above the elbow.

"I go first, bitch."

Halibel paused on the landing and stepped back against the wall, glaring through her visor. There were chauvinists and then there were assholes. Gilga fell into the last set, worse than Jeagerjaques. Had she not been clad in an almost complete Kevlar-ensemble fortified to protect against wayward shots as the women's wear usually was - make that a heavy skirt to the knee slit on the sides over thick pants, she would've been hesitant at letting him walk behind her.

Now there was no need to worry.

Gilga went ahead, stumbling and cursing at every interval, giving their position away more than a dozen times. Halibel kept a tight line behind him, hearing muffled dragging steps behind the doors of each landing, more than once a growl. She was ready to follow Ulquiorra's command to the letter as they passed through the final nondescript door. Nnoitora, as fucked up as his eye-sight was getting she suspected, didn't see the first shuffling shapes moving past the receptionists desks toward the back end of the large sprawling foyer.

He looked for the doors and squinted at the murky light spilling in through the spotted glass panels.

Halibel didn't have to look twice to see that bloody handprints were smeared down the front, more than one set. Instead she gave a quick look over her shoulder, saying briskly, "I'll take these. You clear the front."

"Wha-"

"Just do it." Halibel commanded, in no mood for shit-talking. The first of the figures stumbled into slanty sunshine and she took one long look at the gore-spattered, milky-eyed woman before opening fire.

...

"We have to get out of this room." Leroux said, snapping off communication to Bravo leader. Tesla nodded, uneasily glancing over the spattered carnage heaping the floor. "The roof?" he offered, popping in a fresh clip. The half-empty he stowed in a pocket. The taller man simply jerked a thumb to the original entry door.

"We'll rappel down."

...

More gunfire.

Instead of above, it was below, getting closer.

Ulquiorra let Grimmjow take the lead, stopping every once in a while to check the wrist-top and see their position. The hardware was wired into the Las Noches security mainframe, on a hunch, he switched over to thermo-scan and was given a rough techno layout of the city.

The cluster of red dots in the middle of the city had to be Alpha.

Two more were hovering around the exit to the city.

And then there was Bravo team split up inside City hall.

He noted the few red heat signatures and puzzled over it, standing in the hall connecting the Assayers office to the Tax Collector. Grimmjow had gone ahead to scout the stairs. _Where were the civilians?_

He wondered if the top-of-the-line gadget had malfunctioned.

He tapped the screen and hit _full view_.

The screen transformed into a million blue dots.

All cold.

Surrounding Alpha and Bravo teams.

...

The airstrip was an empty patch of asphalt ground, an air controller's tower and two other buildings. Kaien glided the chopper down beside a smaller runway, listening to the beat of the propeller blades come to a whirring stop while he glanced over the deserted airport.

For safety's sake, he unlatched a metal case in the cockpit and took out a rifle standard issue to the ones Alpha and Bravo team carried, and even tossed an extra mag in. Kaien whistled cheerfully under his breath, popping the depressurized lock free on the cockpit door, it opened with a hiss, folding back into the metal sheath like an automatic. He hesitated for a second on stepping through the threshold, whatever his fears were, the bogeyman wasn't one of them.

_Less cheerfully_, he poked his head out and surveyed the silence of the usually bustling airport.

The spill had to have reached the surface. A frightening thought for then that meant that all containment measures put into place in the underground Lab complex had failed. It was like Koifushi mountain all over again.

...

Hitsugaya wanted to drop with exhaustion. His legs had dulled from slow burn to rubbery numbness, a stitch in his side caused pain whenever he breathed in deeply, never seeming to take in enough air. He skidded to a stop outside the field's high fenced-in enclosure. Weaving almost drunkenly to the cold metal netting.

He had been just in time to see the Pilot's dark head stride into a nearby hangar.

Had he been any less desperate, he'd have considered abandoning the foolish idea of approaching the enemy for help. Hitsugaya couldn't have known Kaien Shiba was the least antagonistic toward helpless civilians. He had only heard of the ruthlessness of cold-blooded Bravo team and 'Schiffer' the enigmatic soldier-leader. Alpha had never crossed his mind.

As Hitsugaya struggled to clamber up the fence, he heard the telltale shuffle and moan not far behind. He dared pause and glance to see his worst fears confirmed.

At least ten of them.

More decomposed than the rest, stumbling toward him. Adrenaline started pumping through his veins and he scrambled up the very top, making quite a bit of unintentional racket while he went. The undead had reached the bike by the time, he perched at the top, just barely avoiding the line of barbed wire fringing the top. From there, he looked out over the airfield and then down at the drop.

"Kami.."

And with his briefcase tucked into his chest, kicked off the chainlink, tumbling up and over the barbs to fall heavily on his left side. The impact jarred his spine, sending fresh waves of pain to ripple throughout his leg. Hitsugaya warned himself not to turn over and start retching.

The undead deprived of their food, let out a wail of disappointment.

At the sound, he regained temporary control of his wayward innards and flipped over, scuttling like a crab away from the fence. He was in pain, but could walk, propelling himself slowly by the arms then transferring the majority of his lean weight onto shaking legs, gained a hobbling, jerky step. Nearly breathless by the time he crossed the airfield and passed the black Helicopter, he patted the side, his heart clenching at the Biohazard symbol and spun around hearing muffled curses from the Hangar.

Hitsugaya limped to it, rounding the doorway just as the pilot started wheeling a barrel tankard on a cart to the door.

"Whoa." The pilot started, baby blue eyes widening as he dropped the handlebars of the cart and reached for the rifle dangling from his shoulder. Hitsugaya immediately dropped his briefcase, letting it fall with dull clang and put his hands high in the air, praying for the Gods whom had deserted him to have the first shot be quick.

The Pilot hesitated, "you gave me quite a fright, kid-"

Hitsugaya's eye twitched at 'kid'. quickly launching into a quick lie and frantic expression. "I-I'm a civilian Lawyer..."

...

By the time, the Pilot had finished talking, Hitsugaya knew he was a Pilot for one of LS's Special ops teams, had a wife who died in a lab accident five years before and in general was a goofball. The last part was surprising as Aizen had always been known to take qualified people. Add serious.

Kaien carried a rifle and one handgun but seemed to barely know how to use it.

Hitsugaya sighed inwardly, after retrieving his briefcase and walked a little to the side of the pilot wheeling the fuel barrel to the silent helicopter, halfway listening to the man's prattle about old Karakura. Nearly at the chopper, he heard something above the din of the squeaking, sloshing cart and hobbled closer to Kaien, grasping the upper part of the man's arm.

"Did you hear that?" Hitsugaya demanded.

Kaien blinked, stopping. "No...can't say I did, Hitsugaya-kun."

"I told you stop calling me that dammit." The lawyer grumbled, about to detach from the happy-go-lucky pilot when he heard it again. A _scrape, roll and clink_. Kaien looked surprised, "hey I _did _hear that...where..?" and both of them swiveled toward the other building on the strip. As if to prove a point, a metal cylinder rolled from the partially open doorway not thirty feet from them.

"There's someone in there." Kaien said, stating the obvious, reaching for his rifle and stepping around the cart quickly. Hitsugaya followed, eyes darting from the helicopter to the idiot pilot. From their vantage point they couldn't see his entry point and the crowd of undead waiting just on the other side. The absurdity of the situation stung Hitsugaya right then.

_The undead?_

_What was this...some sort of horror movie or cheesy sensationalist novel on survival horror? _ He quickly dismissed the thought and faltered in Kaien's wake, weakly saying, "hey, 'cmon, Shiba. Let's just get-"

"No, wait! What if someone needs help in there?" Kaien hissed back over his shoulder, walking on. Hitsugaya's grimy palms sweated, he'd seen the state of the corpses and children from the park to know anyone in this city was beyond help. He cursed his luck at finding the idiotic pilot just as Kaien reached the hangar door and shoved it open farther, revealing a wiggling corpse.

"Get back!" Hitsugaya yelled, abandoning whispers. He started forward only to come to a complete stop. There was something else in the hangar. Something inutterably hideous, a crouching monster on all fours, raw muscle tissue rippling over powerful arms and thick haunches. Its round domed head was eyeless, nose cavities flat and disturbingly hollow. Its maw was parted revealing rows of jagged fangs and a long serpentine tongue whipped the corpse.

Hitsugaya froze, his blood cold. He had the strangest sense the damned thing had seen him - locked onto him as a hunter does prey -

Kaien hissed an unfamiliar word, "B.O.W." then. "Shit." and started firing even as the giant beast thundered past him and onto the field. Huge curved talons gouging the asphalt as it landed frog-like on the runway. Hitsugaya turned and ran stumblingly knowing it was useless. That his damned, aching legs couldn't get enough speed to outrun the thing before it was upon him.

And then it screamed, a horrid bestial cry of bloodlust that made his heart skip a beat, almost forgetting to beat entirely and his hands flew to his ears, desperate to keep out the maddening sound.

It shrieked again, he smelled the rotted flesh breath of it and then the sound of splintering wood came and something wet, hot and pulpy spattered his back and hair. Hitsugaya tripped the next second, falling flat on his hands and knees painfully as the creature fell just beyond his feet, a smoking round lodged deep into its neural cavity, the facial area a hole of gore.

It was a super-heated round.

He dragged in deep breaths of sulfuric gun smoke-tainted air and turned to look up at Kaien's concerned figure striding up. "Hey, you alright?" the pilot asked, stepping around the creature. Hitsugaya nodded shakily, taking the gloved hand offered.

"What was that?" the question was out before he could even process it.

Kaien blinked and shrugged, looking evasive the next moment. "Meh...nothing but an overgrown wild dog."

"Bullshit!" Hitsugaya swore without meaning to. "It was-" and saw something loping down the runway. Wouldn't these things ever stop? His hand shot for the handgun swinging from Kaien's waist holster, cocking the safety off with practiced ease as the bomb-sniffer dog came barreling at full pelt for the pilot. Hitsugaya wrapped his finger around the trigger and pulled off two shots.

The resulting bang was louder than the rifle shot (somehow) to his aching eardrums. Kaien flinched and jolted, spinning around as the canine's head exploded in a shower of grey brain matter and blood across the asphalt runway.

"Are you sure you're just a Lawyer?" asked the incredulous pilot.

Hitsugaya made no effort to disguise his eye-rolling as he jabbed the smoking gun back at the soldier. "No, I'm your cousin." he snapped sarcastically. Kaien blinked and reshouldered the handgun, striding after him, "really? The Shibas are related to the Kurosakis but there might've been Hitsugayas-"

"I was just kidding!" Hitsugaya snapped exasperatedly, "can we just go now before anything else shows up!"

The pilot took no offense, grinning with a shrug. "Sure. About as soon as we load up this here fuel."

...

The first of the undead stumbled onto the field. Hitsugaya sent a glance over his shoulder, before pulling himself up into the cockpit. Kaien was already in the pilot seat, grinning madly. "Ready, kid?"

Hitsugaya gave a jerky nod, falling into a second half-seat to the side of the pilot's, beside the door. Kaien flicked the switches on the dash, twisting the metal rod key in the holder and grabbed the gear, pulling it back sharply. Hitsugaya fought off a wave of bone-shuddering reverberation humming deeply into his body, fighting the urge not to be sick as the helicopter was steadily propelled upward.

_It was too much like_...

"...gonna be sick." he whimpered, stomach churning. Kaien tossed him a quick look and crammed a hand into the mesh pocket bag on his right side, fishing out a paper barf bag and tossing it with good aim to the lawyer's lap. Hitsugaya caught it and dry-heaved, flashes of the floor rising up to meet him, women's screams and men yelling and the whole terrible screech of metal crashing in above him.

"Hold it in, kid." Kaien said seriously, changing gears and angling them upward.

It wasn't enough.

Hitsugaya could hear the ringing slap of a multitude of hands grasping the runners on the underside of the helicopter's belly.

"What the hell..." the pilot trailed off, scowling. The 'copter rocked some, enough to throw its precarious equilibrium off balance. Hitsugaya let the bag fall from his hands, "take off." he hissed urgently, "take off now!"

Kaien hesitated, keeping a tight grip on the controls. "What is-"

"Just do it!" Hitsugaya snapped and the pilot shrugged and threw the 'copter controls into second gear, sending an extra shot of power into the engine and causing them to lift off into the sky. Hitsugaya slammed hard back into his seat, the pressure of the lift-off, cutting the belt deeply into his chest and stomach. Kaien rode it out more smoothly, twisting the gear to the side, angling the 'copter sideways to pivot back over the airfield.

"What're you-"

The daredevil pilot grinned manically as he swooped low, the runner's almost touching the beginning of the strip.

"You're insane!" Hitsugaya roared, his vision of the windshield being a row of figures standing clumped together. Kaien laughed his head off, pulling hard on the gear, angling the helicopter to soar upward over the bodies, his mirth fading when he glimpsed something before they were over and past the airfield.

"Did you see that?" he demanded as Hitsugaya clutched his stomach, fresh sweat darkening the collar of his blue shirt.

"What?" the lawyer snapped, not in the mood to play -_let's scare the lawyer_.

Kaien's profile was paler than his normal ruddy color. "Their eyes." and he shuddered even though it was hot out and he wore the regulation thick turtleneck and pants. "They were milky white."

...

The track was invisible.

His boots crunched in the painted gravel atop Las Noches office.

The roar of the black helicopter re-entered the city.

He affixed yellow eyes on the metal beast making a leisurely southern way.

It was cousin Shiba and the white-haired kid that smelled too much of antiseptic lab rather than the lead of a pencil pushing bureaucrat.

Akira's gunstore had been broken into one hour before.

The best of the arsenal was in similar type to the BFG gun, he had chosen it for that reason and long-aim. The helicopter was over downtown. He raised the scope to his eye, taking aim with the muzzle and fired at the propeller wings.

She wasn't leaving him now.

...

Kaien was telling him about flying in a snowstorm in the Himalayas.

Anyone else would've thought the brash pilot was making it up, but Hitsugaya had heard of an underwater base off America's coast that belonged to Las Noches corp's American counterpart WillPharma and knew better than to scoff.

He was nodding off and on at the right points, his queasy stomach finally settling when a piercing whistle filtered in from the vents to the engine.

Kaien was mid-sentence when the streaking, smoking flare struck.

Hitsugaya jolted in his seat, clawing at the harness. "What's going-"

"Shit! Was that an RPG-" Kaien yelled, his face a study of sweaty shock. His eyes roved over the dash, flicking at different switches trying to change gears to Glide function. The red engine light bleeped on in response, the 'copter's propellers whirred gratingly taking them in spinning arcs.

"What the hell-"

Kaien was punching in different buttons, finally abandoning the lit-up console to grasp at the lever futilely, pulling back hard on it, yelling to be heard above the clangorous din. "Hold on!"

Hitsugaya saw them careening toward a glass-fronted building and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the stomach-plummeting fall - and then Kaien was yelling in his face – "up! Up!" and pulling him toward the belly of the beast to the open exit ramp. Hitsugaya tripped over the canted floor, feeling at the last minute the cutting bite of the air currents whipping around them – "hold on!" The Pilot mouthed and forcibly threw them both from the crashing 'copter.

...

The windows they were passing, rattled with the force of the vibration. Instinctively Rukia flew into a crouch, arms over head. The rest of the team braced much the same with only Ishida on the landing flying into an adjacent office filled with desks.

"My God!" he cried aloud, and she was up, fleet-footed, racing into the long room, and at his side in the ante-chamber, peering out the large window. "Kaien!"

…

"Think I'll go to Tokyo now. Hitsugaya muttered, swabbing at the cut on his forehead with an iodine dipped cottonball. Kaien snickered, wrapped fresh white bandages up and over his burned hand. "Haha, you and me too, kid. Bad luck follow you here, ne?"

"More like bad luck everywhere I turn in this kamiforsaken place."

Kaien cracked a tiny grin, something about the mold of his features reminding Hitsugaya of someone else...But who?

Then it came to him.

"Hey, I don't have a cut marring my studly face, do I?" Kaien asked suddenly in all seriousness. Hitsugaya threw the cotton ball at the pilot. "Idiot." he grumbled, the recollection fleeting. Why did the pilot remind him of his albino seat mate on the plane? Was it something similar in expression?

"Well anywhooo…gotta take what you can get. You and me are stuck together, little guy. But then again, you couldn't have asked for a better protector than –"

"Shut up." Hitsugaya snapped.

...

…

"We have to keep going." Rukia was astounded at how cold her voice was. The gas mask did little to diminish it as they kept a tight perimeter, scanning over the remains of the crashed helicopter. Inside her nerves felt raw, no attempt at reestablishing contact with Kaien had gone through, all she'd gotten was a static-filled line.

"Fuck this shit!" Ichigo snapped startling her, taking a step back from the perimeter, his visor swiveling from side to side. "There were more ways for the asshole to deploy. He's gotta be around here-"

"Kurosaki! We have our orders!"

"Bullshit orders! He's my cousin!" he flared back at her. It was an absolute lie. He despised Kaien down to the blood they shared through Isshin's sister marrying Kaien's father back in the day. Twenty-some odd years later and Kaien and he were close in age. Except Kaien was loudmouth, bossy and annoying. Make that a widower with his wife dying in the Koifushi mountain incident with as little a fuss as she'd lived.

Yes, he despised Kaien.

But that didn't mean he wanted to see the midget's tears later on, no matter how she bitched about 'the mission'. Rukia was odd about her emotions like that.

"Kuro-"

"Shut up, midget! We'll keep a tight line! No more than three blocks!"

She stood to the side, a tiny figure clad in heavy gear, her MP5K loose over her shoulder. He thought she might've been smiling. "Two blocks!" Rukia snapped warningly, still managing to sound professional.

"Three." Ichigo smirked behind the mask and jerked a thumb at the narcoleptic Gingerback and Chad. Inoue and Ishida looked at each other and nodded, with Inoue, tossing over her shoulder, "Kuchiki-san, will you-?"

"I'll check this block. Remember the drill-"

"Yeah, yeah. Say we're with the police, bio-terrorism that whole shit." Ichigo replied for the rest with an elaborate shrug. Sometimes he liked to give the midget a hard time. He was in the mood to, but didn't doubt she wouldn't swing her rifle muzzle in his face.

"Be careful." she finally nodded, "'com links seem to be screwed. We meet back here in thirty."

"Gotcha." he mumbled, already regretting not sticking to her side. Gingerback was already acting the sleek ex wolf he was, the bastard and motioning for Ichigo to take up the rear while he lead the fore.

Ichigo sent the pushy bastard a burning glare that was ruined by his visor.

Given Gingerback's track record, the guy was a lazy ass only trying to look cool, calm and in-control. The three Cs Ichigo was none. And damned if it wasn't for Rukia's benefit.

...

"I will take the lead."

"The fuck...you will." Nnoitora snarled, his breath foul. Halibel stepped around him, scanning the alleyway ahead, only seeing a smoking Taxi cab with busted windows askew in the path. Then she felt the muzzle pressed to her back through the Kevlar.

"No fuckin' pussy's gonna lead me..."

She weighed her options, hearing the groan and rustle as he straightened, pressing the gun more firmly to her spine. The recoil alone would send him off balance, at such close range it would do medium damage to the fortified material. Halibel though strictly desiring to adhere to Bravo team coda, didn't want to leave the ill man ...

But circumstances necessitated it.

She swung her elbow back, catching the muzzle and batting it aside. Nnoitora nearly tipped over, his sickly face registering shock. Halibel didn't stop there, spinning around and angling her rifle for a prime head-shot then she saw the lurching, shambling figures, arms outstretched, mouths slack, agape.

There had to be at least thirty, covering the back end of the street, honing in on them.

Granted, she alone had enough shots remaining to take the exact thirty out if every one was a head-shot. Her gut instinct didn't like the odds, especially since Nnoitora looked like shit and was acting like one. Rather regretfully she pulled her arm back and sucked her teeth.

The first of the freaks had stumbled through the gap between the buildings, gibbering.

Nnoitora's good eye slid to the side, hearing it. "Shit." A look of naked fear flittered over his face then anger. Halibel backed up a step then turned and ran, engaging the enemy in close quarters was folly. Nnoitora yelled something like, "coward!" but she ignored the antagonizer, running around the cab, launching herself at the chainlink fence, up and dropping over into the short break before hitting the new street. Behind she heard a few shots fired and Nnoitora's cussing, then a bullet pinged off the corner of the brick side to her left.

His aim was lousy as always.

She didn't spare a glance back.

...

"You're a bad, bad man, Aizen-sama." teased a slithery voice.

"Where have you been, Gin?" asked the Director of Las Noches Corp. He was seated before a massive theater-like screen watching a multi-view of camera feeds inside Karakura city. The lithe grey-suited man strolled up behind the chair, "oh here and there." Ichimaru Gin was a tall, almost emaciated man with a silver bob and slit red eyes. He wore a lilac dress shirt beneath his pressed suit jacket and had gold cuff links in the shape of tiny fox-heads on the sleeves.

He was obsessed with foxes.

"They are simply pawns, Gin, nothing more."

"You sent little Bravo team in.

"The stock holders were demanding to see the results of their investments." Aizen keenly noted the leader of the second-rate team followed closely by the thickly-built Jeagerjaques, descend the ladder to the sewers. "What better way than to give them combat feed with some of our newest acquisitions."

"But weren't-"

"The spill leaked to surface level, Gin. One week ago, Szayel was ordered topside to retrieve the G and HN viruses from Mayor Tosen's safe. Last night, Dr. Grantz was still kind enough to release the caged T-virus subjects into the connected sewers. Now Bravo team was sent to recover harmless compounds while their real mission begins once they enter the B.O.W infested sewer system beneath the city. Don't you see, Gin?"

"What about Rukia-chan?" the man still looked unconvinced.

"Alpha's mission is to retrieve Dr. Grantz's samples from the lab . That has not changed."

"Aa. Like I said, Aizen-sama. You are a very bad, bad man." Gin said smilingly, admiring the stage 4 Hunter crawling sideways on the slime-slicked wall on the screen.

...

She reached the first flight of steps to the two-story apartment building. They ran up the central while the two wings of the building spread out on each side. Everything was eerily quiet. Rukia tapped the 'com, hoping against hope that Kaien's cocksure tones would come on giving the usual report. Nothing. Her hand fell away. It seemed likely to acquaint herself with the loss of Alpha's pilot.

Rukia's chest tightened, but that was the only inward evidence that things were amiss with her. She walked up the stairwell, keeping her gun trained loosely ahead. At the landing, she looked from left to right, almost certain the pilot hadn't escaped into the city - well, at least not without trying to contact the team that he was alright. Shaking her head, she thought it wouldn't do to hesitate. After all, she had assured the team, she would check out the block.

Leaving the job unfinished wasn't professional.

She strode to the left first, snatching at the knob in front of her and turning. Even through the thick rubber knobs fine-graining the inner pad of the glove for maximum grip, she was repulsed by the dried bloody handprints littering the panel of the door. The knob was locked. She thought of shooting the lock out then simply decided to bang on the door.

Her raps echoed muffled in the stillness.

She was about to stop and turn around when she heard something.

A shuffle, then a faint wail.

But not from the door in front of her.

Rukia spun around, aiming the rifle just as the door across the landing creaked open.

The sounds came from over there.

With mounting trepidation, she turned and went to the door, pulling it open quickly-

...

Ever since Sora Inoue had died, Uryu could remember taking care of Inoue.

Whether it was a bandaid from trying to pet a stray cat, a gentle push on a swing ...or in this case...

He fired two slugs into the greasy grey-skinned forehead of the towering man.

Inoue squeaked clapped her gloved hands over the sides of the visor. Being the gentlest person he knew, the action wasn't unlike the orange-haired girl. The cat she had attempted to call down from the tree, spat at the air from the communal tree in the tiny park between two squat apartment buildings. Kuchiki had professedly warned Alpha's medic not to stop for anything other than their missing teammate. In this case, Uryu watched the smoke curl from the end of the muzzle and bolstered it, turning to the medic.

"Are you alri-" changing to a sigh. Inoue had gotten over her fright and had gone back to the tree in the corner, coaxing in her soft girlish voice for the cat to come down. Uryu shook his head and turned back to scan the rest of the perimeter. The park was between two apartment buildings, their fronts overlooking a street next over. A few cars with busted windows were in sight and what looked like a woman's pink shoe was thrown in the middle of the street.

A mechanical noise interrupted his musings and he half-glanced over his shoulder to see Inoue tugging off her helmet and visor.

"Stop! We don't know-"

"Uryu," she began patiently, freeing her orange bun and wearing a knowing look. "A spill has occurred, but below ground. I'm sure there's no residual toxins in the air."

"We can't know that..." he faltered helplessly. She ignored him and set the Hazmat head covering to the side next to her medkit. Once that was done, she straightened and reached for the cat, cooing softly. "Here kitty, kitty..."

Uryu had a bad feeling the second the orange-striped cat had fixated its strangely watery eyes down on his partner.

"Don't be afraid, kitty." Inoue said and motioned with her gloved left hand.

Watery...he shot a quick look to the downed civilian. _The crazed civilian_, recognizing the implicit pattern. Without another thought, he aimed and fired.

Inoue gasped when the feline had exploded in a pulpy mass of tissues and blood. Spatters struck her face, she blinked and immediately started back, rubbing at her eyes.

"Geez, Uryu! Why'd you have to do that!"

He grimaced at the remains, hurrying to her side. "I had to. The damned thing was infected."

"Huh? But-"

Uryu shook off her questions, brusquely pulling her aside. "Clean your face. It's possible the virus is still hot."

The girl frowned at him but went over to her medkit and did as she was told. Truth was, once she had lowered her hands from her face, he had not liked the red striations like blood spots in her grey eyes.

...

The Tyrant virus was loose.

Rukia felt physically sick reeling away from the crib done in pinks and greens. The baby had desiccated skin, scant hair and emitted a fetid, rotting odor. It was all telltale signs of the virus's handiwork. She aimed her rifle just as a clawed hand reached out - she spun around and fired off two shots, her blood pulsing thickly, hotly through her veins.

She was vaguely lightheaded, but knew she had to conserve ammo. Reaching for the Bowie knife strapped to her thigh. She had it in hand, the next second when a shambling, shuffling step crossed the threshold into the next room. Rukia darted forward and slashed across twice, dispatching the head from the trunk of a moldering man with a dislocated shoulder. The man collapsed into a heap near her feet, bleeding little. Rukia advanced cautiously, checking the small kitchenette and then moving back through the living room to the single bedroom where the crib was. Resheathing the knife temporarily, she aimed briefly into the crib and pulled the trigger, silencing the abomination's hungry cries.

Once that was done, she headed for the exit. The place couldn't be called secure by no means, but she had disliked the feeling of the virus carriers. The original Tyrant virus had been selective in its hosts, this pattern of infection while obviously stemming from the lab accident the week before, had possibly infected the entire city. _What had changed to make the virus protean?_

...

"Did you hear that?"

"Shh."

"No wait. I'm serious!"

"Shut up." Stark hissed, scanning the narrow alleyway ahead. They were almost to the business section, finding locked doors, bloody handprints smeared on walls and nothing but eerie silence. Ichigo scowled at the order, knowing it was a small burst of gunfire from Ishida's direction then not long after, two shots from the midget's. He didn't like it.

_What were they firing at?_

Alpha wolf had streaked on ahead, Ichigo hurried after, not liking to be left behind.

"Hey, what're you-" he began, reaching out to thump Stark's shoulder, but the soldier was kneeling, plucking something off the ground by a crashed car and turning. Ichigo gasped, "it's a Colt, damned if that's not-" his next words were stupefied by the sound rising up around them. Baying. Like a chorus of multiple wild dogs on a moonlit night. But the problem was, it was daylight and they were in the middle of a mid-size city. Ichigo raised his rifle as Stark casually aimed the Colt - _Nnoitora's Colt_, back the way they had come.

In unison both looked down to the street and the third member of their party.

The howling was closer.

"Shit. Chad!" He yelled as the first of the gummy red-slicked beasts lunged for his friend.

The dogs had sighted their prey.

...

Rukia dispatched more of the carriers, hurling her knife at the forehead of the last, when the howling started. Her body encased in protective Kevlar. The lightheadedness resurged and she felt dizzy. Forcing herself to come out of it, she turned in the direction Ichigo had taken, jogging over to pluck her bloody knife from the cranium of the civilian.

_Dogs. Project Cerberus? Or were they infected accidentally?_

Not eager to waste time, she set off at a brisk run, wending between building gaps, rifle swinging at her side. Rukia cleared two streets before the sound of gunfire ratcheted the air. She slowed, rounding a wrecked car just as more snarls of the canine variety joined in. Ichigo yelled from somewhere nearby and she cleared the alley to the street.

She scanned over the scene presented to her and didn't like it one bit.

Stark was to the left, kicking a dog that looked like it had been skinned; the canine gave a puppyish yelp and crashed heavily to the asphalt. Ichigo was several feet away dispatching three four-footed carriers attacking a downed Chad. Rukia left her rifle and reached for the Bowie, flinging it at the first one that spasmed, legs getting ready to propel its gore-covered body up.

A few more gunshots and Ichigo dropped heavily to his friend's side. Stark was more self-possessed, exchanging clips and sweeping the area, running a short distance up then down back to them, sounding completely unconcerned.

"We need to move."

"Chad..? Hey, buddy. You're gonna be alright. Just hang in there!"

Rukia kept her distance, training her gun down, feeling the telltale speed up of her heart.

Stark was right. They couldn't stay out in the open.

"Ichigo. Is he bit?"

The carrot top ignored her, seeming to be checking a splash amount of blood staining the Mexican's shoulder area. Rukia knew with a sinking feeling that was where the Hazmat suit was weakest. She raised her voice, trying to be patient. "Ichigo! Is he-"

"Shut up!" he snapped, a catch in his voice.

"We've got to move, people." Stark added, like her, aiming a weapon - - which she noticed was a Colt Python rather than an MP5K standard. The glimpse of the heavy gun brought to mind Bravo team. Hadn't Nnoitora always favored a Colt? Before she could ask where he had gotten it, a low moan - no, louder, echoed, bouncing up from the end of the street. Rukia spun as the ex Alpha wolf did, seeing a straggling line of virus carriers round the corner and stumble onto the street, heading straight for them.

"Ichigo," she kept her voice down, not wanting to incite more attention on them. "We have to go _now_."

"Chad..."

"Ichigo-!"

"It's a waste of bullets to take them all down." Stark said quietly, never taking his visor-clad face from the line ever closer. She did, snapping at the carrot top angrily. "On your fucking feet, soldier! We have to move-" To her surprise, she saw Chad _moving_. Ichigo struggled to support his tall bulk, relief surging.

"Are you al-"

She didn't want to believe it when the quiet man she had known for five years as a soldier, ten as a friend-of-a-friend, turned, snarling, lunging for the smaller man supporting his weight.

"Oh geez!" was all Ichigo got out before Stark pivoted gracefully on his feet and put a bullet through the glass visor. Rukia didn't wait to see Ichigo's reaction, hearing his long-indrawn howl was enough. She spun back toward the carriers and fired at the nearest, thinning the line.

"We've-gotta-"

Stark was already shoving Ichigo aside and snatching at the spare clips hanging from Yasutora's belt. In seconds he was on his feet, barking at her. "Go, _go_!"

She didn't argue, grabbing Ichigo by the arm forcefully and pushing him to the alleyway she had gone through. Stark provided coverfire, emptying the Colt's chamber into the burgeoning crowd until it clicked dry. He flung it at the first that reached for him and turned and sped down the narrow space, spotting a chain fencing like the opposite one down the street they had just left. Rukia reached the block one away from their meeting spot and watched as Stark grasped ahold of the gate on rollers and slammed it into place, effectively sealing off the alleyway.

"Riot control..." she muttered, recalling just then that most places in the city had gates to seal off certain quadrants of the city. The one further ahead past the street they had left, had been sealed. Had the KPD done it?

"That's the purpose." Stark said unnecessarily, avoiding Ichigo's furious glares. Rukia felt him tense up beside her and lunge forward impulsively, fist drawn back -

"You bastard!"

Stark sidestepped and caught the fist midair.

"Shut up, you fucking juvenile." The ex Alpha snapped, unusually irritated. He twisted Ichigo's arm painfully around, saying softer. "In case you're slow on the uptake, we're in a city full of virus carriers-"

"Aizen-"

"-didn't tell us the magnitude of the spill, trusting that our professionalism would be able to handle anything."

"Bullshit! That's bullshit and you know it!" Ichigo yelled and wrestled away from the hold. Rukia decided to approach him now, extending her hand which he crudely brushed off, rubbing at the back of his neck, without facing them.

She was spared having to say anything by the running footsteps pounding up to them. Stark reached for his rifle first but stopped, seeing it was only Ishida and Inoue wearing worried expressions. Rukia passed a quick glance over them, seeing at once the lack of a Hazmat helmet on their medic.

"Inoue! Where's your headgear?"

The girl looked properly sheepish, hands fiddling. "Well uh - there was this kitty stuck in a tree and-"

"Typical." Stark muttered and shook his head, switching to scanning the area they were in for possible infectants.

"We ran into two infected." Ishida announced, cutting off the medic's fumbling. He stepped more in front of her, deflecting the attention to himself. Rukia could feel the questions forming, heading them off with a reticent, "we did too."

Ichigo winced, but said nothing.

Ishida tallied them up silently, noting the far off moans and the barrier of chain link, asking the inevitable question. "Where's Chad?"

"He-"

"He's dead."

"What!" sharply, from Ishida and Inoue. Stark ignored them and tossed Rukia a clip he had gotten from the dead soldier's body. She took it unflinchingly, admiring the way he kept his head despite the various unknowns they were walking through.

"How? What happened!"

"So what do we do now, Kuchiki?" The ex Alpha commander asked, disregarding the others swarm around Ichigo.

She attached the clip to her belt and fired once into the air with the rifle. The report was loud, crackling. The three other members of Alpha unit turned incredulous at her.

She switched back to semi-automatic with a click. "We complete the mission."

...

He had to get away.

They had passed City hall and it had killed him to walk by it, the evidences of a gun battle nearby.

The thought was running circles in his mind.

Hitsugaya kept pace with Kaien, the suitcase in one hand, the empty one swinging at his side. He had no weapon. Karakura was almost as silent as a tomb, but smelled like a sewer. The odor was overpowering being kicked up by the wind, it spread like some malignant tumor hanging over the wrecked cars and shattered windows.

Thankfully the Pilot had lapsed into silence, brooding the deeper they went into the city. They were heading in a general northeasterly direction and Kaien had said something vaguely about commandeering a Police chopper.

Hitsugaya had no intentions sticking around until they reached the Police station, he was here on a mission no matter how unpleasant and _off_ the city seemed to be.

"So, you got a family?" Kaien asked abruptly, shooting him a quick friendly glance.

He had been wrong thinking the talkative man could stay quiet for more than ten minutes. "Just a sister." Hitsugaya said carefully, observing the pilot's fleeting depressed look from the corner of his eye.

"You close to her?"

"Y-yeah. She's my only family."

Kaien cracked a feeble grin, "guess you're gonna tell me she's really hot when she's not, for a widowed stud like me!"

He couldn't imagine tiny Hinamori with the brash idiot. "Uh...no."

The pilot was ignoring him like usual. "Normally I'd say _yeah what the heck_, but I got me a sweet little piece of ass for a-"

Hitsugaya had started tuning out the idiot's rambles only to have another sound replace them. Dragging. Immediately he thought of knuckles being dragged along the ground. Thick, large ones.

"Be quiet, you idiot!" he hissed urgently, stopping dead in his tracks. Kaien frowned at that then tensed when the sound came again. "I think we should-"

A huge misshapen shadow appeared on the threshold of a building half a block down.

He barely waited to see what it was before letting out a startled yell of feigned fright and taking off the opposite way. Kaien yelled after him to stay and a bunch of other unimportant shit. Hitsugaya focused on pounding up the sidewalk, not particularly caring whether or not that thing ate the Pilot.

...

"Oh geez." Kaien muttered, staring after the direction the kid had gone then swung abruptly back to face the Tyrant cost-cutter. As hideous as the original Tyrant models were, the Bandersnatch was the stuff of nightmares. Its right arm was thickly muscled, the width almost as monstrously wide as its trunk-like torso. The left arm was completely gone due to cellular breakup during its creation. Its head was round, the features melted into a distorted mass of one jagged line revealing a glint of teeth.

The Bandersnatch easily towered over him.

"Poor bastard." Kaien muttered, reaching for the rifle.

The Tyrant class monster growled and lifted the gargantuan arm. Kaien started moving backward, diving to the side in a roll as the gigantic fist flew out smashing a crater in the asphalt. His mind ran over the plastic file he'd read up about the Tyrant series even while propelling his legs up and racing around a wrecked Nissan. The Bandersnatch hooked claws into the ground and threw itself forward, crossing the distance between them in less than a minute. Its terrible scabby grey body heaved, distended blood-red veins popping as it rasped, fixating sightless eyes in his direction.

He opened fire, peppering the melted face with a hail of magnum rounds. Predictably the holes opened splashes of thick, viscous streams of blood to pour down its face. The Bandersnatch roared dismally, flailing its huge fist at him, connecting to the smashed Nissan and nearby Fiat, sending the wrecks hurtling around clangorously. He barely evaded being struck, racing around it, laser-sight trained on the head.

_Where in the hell was its weakness? _

He quickly tallied up the remainder of bullets filling the mag and set the enhanced heat-grid to maximum wattage. The Tyrant class monster spun around, huge fist lunging for his head. Kaien momentarily glanced down to the laser, seeing it change from blue to red.

The claw-like fingers were extending inches above his head ready to clamp down.

"Enjoy Hell." he muttered, opening fire. The plasma-heated rounds sprayed the reddish organs exposed on through the shattered ribs. The mockery of humanity clawed feebly but he crouched and rolled, scraping his thigh and pulling up, fired twice more at the cranium.

An eruption of gore spattered the asphalt and the Bandersnatch collapsed. He waited until its last twitch stopped before striding up carefully, training the smoking muzzle of burning metal at the domed head.

"...can't believe they let one of these things out." Kaien mumbled, checking the mag cartridge.

Ten rounds left.

The handgun had fifteen.

He pivoted around back the way they had come; he needed to find the lawyer kid before any more Bandersnatches came out.

-TBC-

AN: Thanks for reading! Had to cut it, the length was getting too long

No flames!

Reviews loved


End file.

Bleach, Horror, Romance