Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Ueda's Ramen was a popular lunch destination in Seireitei, especially for Academy students and lower ranked officers who wanted a place to eat but didn't have a lot of money to spend. It was a lovely day outside—the sun was out, there was a light breeze and the sky was clear—which only made it that much more confusing that the tables outside the ramen shop seemed to be deserted. Well, not entirely. There was a lone shinigami sitting at a table relatively far away from the restaurant, shaded from the sun by the branches of a nearby wisteria tree and with a bowl resting in front of him. A safe distance away were located several bushes, which appeared to be rustling slightly and…talking?

"Is that…?" A hushed voice asked, seemingly coming from the bush on the far right.

"No way…" Another voice replied dubiously, this time coming from the bush in the middle.

"It's gotta be!" The first bush insisted. "Do ya know anyone else who looks like he bathes in coins every night and sleeps on a mattress stuffed with money?"

"Still though," a third voice interjected, coming from the bush on the left. "What the hell would Kuchiki Byakuya be doin' at a ramen stand of all places?"

"Maybe he's waiting for somebody?" The first voice asked. "I don't know…he looks kinda lonely, dontcha think?"

The bush in the middle rustled some more, before abruptly stilling. Those who cared to look might have seen something like a brief blur pass from the bush into the street behind the ramen stand. There was a slight pause, before two other blurs followed from the surrounding bushes.

A minute later, three shinigami with the 6th division insignia sewn onto their sleeves could be seen strolling down the street from Ueda's Ramen.

"The hell was that for, bastard?" Voice Number 3 asked, irritably. "Why'd you just take off like that?"

"I woulda thought that'd be obvious," Voice Number 2, seeming slightly surprised at having to explain this. "I'm gonna stock up on food, water and medical supplies, then hole myself up in a basement somewhere. Think about it, ya morons. Kuchiki freakin' Byakuya was just seen sittin' at a fuckin' RAMEN stand lookin' for all the world like he was stood up on a DATE. Don't know about you, but I'm not gonna wait around for giant meteors to start fallin' out of the sky or for the dinosaurs to come back before preparin' for the worst. One sign of the apocalypse is more'n enough for me, thank you very much."

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Iemura stared at his captain, hoping that he'd heard incorrectly.

"You want me to let Yukimura Hisana attend to all the most problematic patients," he said flatly. "You want me to let Yukimura Hisana deal with patients that even seasoned healers have difficulty tolerating," he repeated, because it was just that ridiculous.

Are you crazy? He wanted to scream. Instead, because he actually valued his existence, Iemura asked, "Taicho, are you feeling well?"

"I am feeling perfectly fine, Iemura-kun," Unohana said, actually seeming a bit amused. "But as I was saying, a Fourth Division member must be able to deal with all manners of patients. As I'm sure you've noticed, Yukimura has a lot of potential and I find myself curious to see how she would conduct herself in a trying situation. Think of it as a test, if you will."

"Yesterday, she called Ichimaru Gin a 'mutated, diseased, carcinogenic sperm that should be struck from existence for the good of the human genepool'," Iemura blurted out, still in disbelief. "And you want me to trust her with the more difficult patients? Taicho, by the end of the week, she'll either get herself killed or she'll go on a murderous rampage and then get herself killed!"

"Oh, I think you underestimate her self-control," Unohana said calmly. "She's not the type to ever harm a patient in her care, or directly insult someone…unless that someone is named Ichimaru Gin, but I think he's a special case."

Iemura wasn't convinced. "Sooner or later, she's going to explode," he warned. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach at the lightning-quick flash of anticipation that crossed Unohana's face.

"No. What she will do is teach them that just because she chose to be a healer, it does not mean that she chose to be defenseless." Unohana smiled faintly. "For better or for worse, Yukimura Hisana is the type of person who brings change with her."

She leaned back in her chair. "Just wait and see, Iemura-kun. I think that she'll surprise you."

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"What the hell is that?!" A voice spoke up in disgust. "It looks like shit." Hisana blinked at the Eleventh Division member looming over her, before looking down at the bottle of green mush in her hands.

"It's my lunch. It's quite good," Hisana said, scooping out the last of the unidentified green food. She then opened a second bottle containing the same green paste before offering it to the Eleventh Division member. "Would you like to try? I should warn you however– I've been told that my tastes can be very particular at times." She tilted her head to the side innocently. "So I understand if you don't want to risk it."

As expected, the shinigami took the bait. "Che. I ain't no chicken," he sneered, grabbing the bottle out of her hands. Scooping out a generous portion with his finger, he then proceeded to pop the whole thing into his mouth.

There was a beat of silence. Then–

Hisana watched as the shinigami's eyes widened and his entire face turned brick-red, blood vessels straining against his neck. Without another word, he proceeded to sprint to the nearest bathroom at top speed. The sounds of water flowing combined with frantic gargling and choking noises followed soon after. Several minutes later, he stumbled out, a look of abject horror on his face as he looked at Hisana.

"You– you–" He stammered, something like terror in his eyes. In response, Hisana held up the bottle he'd dropped.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like some more? I know that some people don't like it at first; it's a bit of an acquired taste, I'm afraid," Hisana offered kindly. She frowned as there was no reply, the Eleventh Division member too occupied with getting as far away as possible.

"Well. I gotta say, that's the first time I've seen an Eleventh Division member turn tail and run."

~Several Days Later~

"Is it true?" Kaien demanded as soon as he saw her.

"Is what true?" Hisana asked, looking up from her book. There was a weird expression on Kaien's face.

"Did you really eat an entire bottle of wasabi for lunch?" He asked, an incredulous note in his voice.

"Of course not. That's ridiculous– what made you think that?" Hisana scoffed, turning back to her book.

"I don't know– maybe the fact that the entire Fourth Division has been talking about it? And the fact that half the Eleventh Division suddenly decided to respect you overnight?" Kaien asked sarcastically.

"It was just a jar of mashed-up avocado. I don't know why everyone's getting so worked up over it," Hisana said innocently. "As for the other jar, well…" The slightest smirk crossed her lips. "He looked so eager to try it, and far be it from me to deprive anyone of the opportunity to experience new things."

Kaien stared at her for a long moment. "You tricked an Eleventh Division member into eating a giant mouthful of wasabi," he said slowly, almost admiringly. "You ingenious little shit."

Hisana tilted her book up, hiding her smile behind its pages. "I admit to nothing."

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"…and then Aladdin set the Genie free with his final wish. The Genie bid his friend and former master farewell, and set off to travel the world outside his lamp. The Sultan, recognizing that Aladdin was worthy of his daughter and that he and Jasmine were really, truly in love, decided to lift the marriage law so that Jasmine could marry whomever she wished. She chose Aladdin, of course, and the two of them lived happily ever after."

"That's good. That law was dumb, anyway," Rukia mumbled contentedly, leaning into my side. I laughed softly, wrapping a blanket around her.

"It sure was. I promise, when you grow up, you can marry whomever you like," I said, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead.

"Mmkay 'kaa-san," she said, scooching closer. My hand paused from where it was stroking her hair.

"Rukia-chan…you know that I'm not really your mom, right?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"But you're like my mom, yeah? You brush my hair and hug me after nightmares and make sure I eat my veg'tables and tell me stories and take care of me. That's what a mom does. Kaori-nee-san told me," Rukia said matter-of-factly. I swallowed, throat suddenly feeling tight. Part of me felt like an imposter, because it was Yukimura Asuka who had given birth to Rukia, breast-fed her, kept her alive and healthy those first few months, but…

I'd been the one to take Rukia and run, the one who'd been there for her first word and her first step, and goddamn it all, Rukia was mine just as much as I was hers. And hearing her call me 'mother' made my eyes sting and something swell up almost painfully in my chest.

"How about you keep on being my imouto and I keep on being your nee-chan? How does that sound?" I asked shakily, throat suddenly tight.

"Like Anna and Elsa?" Rukia asked, brightening up.

"Like Anna and Elsa," I confirmed.

"Okay!" Rukia chirped cheerfully, pulling me down next to her on the futon before proceeding to wrap my arms around her. Snuggling against my chest, she added, "Love ya, nee-chan."

I pulled her close, burying my face in her hair. "Love you too, imouto. Always."

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Well, the good thing about having a constant stream of patients to treat was that I had plenty of people to practice the reiatsu transferring technique on. The bad part was that a solid three quarters of those people tended to inspire anything from frustrated irritation to murderous rage in me, which wasn't exactly conducive to maintaining the focused calm necessary for the technique.

Life was so much easier, I thought wearily, when you were the only source of medical assistance around.

"Taki-san," I said for the umpteenth time, voice only faintly strained. "I'm going to ask you one more time—could you please keep still? I assure you, if you stopped moving around, it would speed up the treatment considerably."

"Of course, healer-san," he said, an infuriating smirk on his face. "Wouldn't want to cause ya any trouble, after all."

"Thank you." Taking a deep breath, I slipped into a state of meditative calm before focusing on channeling reiatsu from my palms to the shinigami's injured arm. Barely twenty seconds later, he jerked his arm away, breaking the steady flow of spiritual energy.

"Oops," he said, scratching at his nose. "Sorry, healer-san. I had an itch; I'm sure you understand."

My eye twitched and I stood up. Fuck it, if he wasn't going to be professional, then neither would I. Besides, I'd been wanting to get in more bakudo spell practice anyway.

"What are you doing?" He asked, eying me warily as I backed up a few steps. He then sat up in alarm as I slid into a battle ready stance. "Hey! The hell are you doing? Stop!"

"Since you cannot be trusted to follow instructions, I have no choice but to restrain you for your own good," I said mildly, gathering up my reiatsu. "Please sit still. I would hate for something to go wrong if you distracted me. Now, Baku–"

"Wait, wait! You can't do that!" The shinigami exclaimed, now sending glances towards the door. I mentally snorted—good luck getting there with your broken leg, idiot.

"Can't I?" I asked, smiling pleasantly. "Might I remind you, Taki-san, that as long as you are under this roof, you are in my jurisdiction." Tilting my head to the side, I added reassuringly, "Do not worry, Taki-san. My bakudo spells only blow up twenty percent of the time now." A lie, of course. My bakudo spells only blew up when I wanted them to.

"And if it does? What then?" Taki was looking vaguely hysterical now, especially when it didn't look like anyone was going to come to his rescue.

My smile widened a notch. "Well then, it's a good thing you're already in a hospital bed, isn't it?"

Watching the way Taki's face paled, I conceded that maybe Ichimaru had a point with the whole 'terrorizing people for fun' thing. It was surprisingly satisfying.

"That won't be necessary," he blurted out hastily. "I was—uh—feeling kind of restless earlier, but I'm feeling much better now. I'll stay still; you don't need to do anything drastic."

"I'm glad to hear that," I said softly, voice regaining its warmth. Taki visibly relaxed in relief, and I resisted the urge to grin. Who said that shinigami couldn't be trained?

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"Oh, for—you guys can't come up with a single decent idea outside of 'someone needs to do it' and 'my mom thought I'd die in the field so I took a job here so that she wouldn't be worried'? I didn't use my own money to buy refreshments for you guys just so you could sit around like useless lumps and say nothing." Unohana Retsu paused in her steps as Hisana's frustrated voice echoed down the hallway. A not uncommon occurrence these days.

Feeling rather curious about what her intern was up to now, she quietly masked her reiatsu and headed towards the Fourth Division lounge, where Hisana appeared to be conducting a meeting of some sort. She was currently pacing at the front of the room, a large piece of paper titled 'Ways to Increase Our Frankly Pathetic Number of Applicants' pinned up on the wall behind her. Sitting at a table in front of her were several Fourth Division members. Retsu recognized her fifth seat and seventh seat amongst them.

"Okay, change of plans. Since apparently all of you have temporarily forgotten why you applied here in the first place, let's start from the other side of the spectrum. Give me some reasons as to why someone wouldn't want to apply here," Hisana said after a long moment of silence, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Iemura-senpai, since you were the only one who answered my initial question, let's start with you."

"I do not see what the point of this exercise is," he answered stiffly. "What would be the use in coming up with reasons to dissuade people from joining?"

"So that I can give you guys a much needed lesson in having the right attitude," she muttered. "Indulge me."

With a heavy sigh, he crossed his arms before reluctantly saying, "I suppose that some people might find the lack of…opportunities to prove oneself in the field…discouraging." Hisana nodded, reaching up and writing 'fewer opportunities for promotion,' along with 'see less battle' onto the paper in large characters..

"Right. Thank you, Iemura-senpai. Tsukuda-san, your turn."

She jumped, looking vaguely dismayed. When Hisana's gaze didn't waver, she deflated before muttering something inaudible.

"What was that?" Hisana asked, not unkindly.

"I-I said…w-we um…we're responsible for…for maintenance and cleanup, so uh-" Her voice trailed off, but Hisana didn't seem bothered, instead turning around and writing down 'janitorial duties' and 'unglamorous' before looking expectantly at the nervous-looking boy behind her who stammered out something about sewer duty.

As the meeting went on, Retsu had to admit that even she started feeling unsettled as the list got longer and longer. Still, Hisana never blinked an eye even as 'no one respects us' went on the paper, followed by 'it's a job for girls.' It wasn't until she filled up the entire left side of the first sheet and half of a second that she stopped at Tsukuda's quiet, "Sometimes the people from the other squads order me to…to d-do things I don't want to do." As innocuous as that statement seemed, there was something in her tone of voice…in the way she looked down at the table, bottom lip trembling, that left Retsu more uneasy than the rest of the complaints—words made bitter by resignation—put together.

"Thank you, Tsukuda-san," Hisana's voice was quiet now, a solemn understanding in her eyes that caught Retsu off guard. Shaking her head briskly, she turned back to the list behind her. "Now, the reason I asked you to do this is because all of these things? What you just came up with?" A steely glint entered her eyes. "They're all true."

Whatever Retsu was expecting her to say, it wasn't that. She pursed her lips in thought even as half the room flinched. Where are you going with this, Hisana?

"Wha—Yukimura! You can't-" Iemura sputtered, the indignation in his voice only tempered by his shock.

"Can't I?" She asked breezily. "After all, you're the ones who came up with that list. Who am I to tell you you're wrong? And if you go up to anyone…anyone at all, regardless of what squad they're in and ask them if they agree, they will—even if they're too polite to say it out loud. You know that as well as I do, Iemura-senpai, so there's no point in denying it. I didn't come here to lie to you guys; in my experience, there's never much use in ignoring the truth."

"Then why…" Tsukuda's voice shook as she looked up angrily, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Why would you join here, then? Why bother taking that stupid internship at all if you think our squad is so awful, huh?"

Retsu narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at Tsukuda's unexpected outburst. As taken aback as the rest of the room had seemed with Hisana's response, there had been something personal in the seventh seat's words. What exactly was Hisana to her to warrant such an emotional reaction?

Hisana blinked in surprise before her eyes softened. "Tsukuda-san, you didn't let me finish. The things on that list are all true, and they're all reasons why our division is scorned by the others. But I look at that list and I don't see a single reason to be ashamed." Her lips tilted up in the faintest smile, expression gentle.

"The reason I asked you all to do this exercise was because I wanted to show you what I see when I look at our division." She pointed to the top of the sheet. "It's true that a Fourth Division member generally has fewer opportunities to earn a promotion. An officer can spend decades working hard without getting moved up a single seat. But that just means that when they do get promoted, it's because they truly deserve it. Because they devoted their lives to saving lives, to stopping bloodshed with no promise of a reward—and really, isn't that what a shinigami is supposed to do in the first place?"

The way she turned back to write 'more deserving of promotions' on the as-of-yet blank right side of the paper meant that she didn't see the stark relief that flashed across Iemura's face, as if something that had been knocked truly off-center in his world had suddenly aligned in its proper place again. Retsu had to suppress a smile—it was nice to see that he valued his 'kouhai's' opinion more than he let on.

"Number two on the list…'see less battle.' Well, to be honest, I don't see what the problem is here. I mean, when it comes down to it, isn't a drastically lower mortality rate a good thing? Doesn't mean we're cowards, it just means that we're pretty much the only squad with common sense," Hisana continued, looking puzzled. Shrugging, she lifted her arm and wrote 'aren't masochists—don't enjoy pain' next to her original statement, causing several people to choke.

"What about the next one?" The boy sitting behind Tsukuda called out eagerly. Hisana glanced up and grinned.

"Oh, the extra 'chores' we have to do?" She asked, using her fingers to make quotation marks around the word 'chores.' "So we're the squad with the greatest variety of jobs. I don't see that as a bad thing? Personally, I think it's nice that I get to take a break from healing sometimes by painting a wall or cooking or building a fence. And since our jobs take us all over the city, whenever I want to visit my friends in other divisions, I just request a cleanup job to that squad," she shrugged. "It's a great way of balancing my work life with my social one."

"Okay I'll give you that one, but even you can't make the sewers sound nice," he challenged. Hisana raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We have intimate knowledge of a secret network of tunnels under the city. Do you know how many times I've managed to avoid Ichimaru Gin by ducking into the nearest sewer entrance?" At this, Retsu had to hide her smile behind one hand even as Iemura shook his head exasperatedly. If nothing else, Retsu thought in amusement, no one could accuse Yukimura Hisana of not having an interesting way of looking at the world.

"And when people call us weak? That we're so pathetic a lot of us don't even carry our swords around?" A small, brunette girl spoke up from the back. "I m-mean even you…even you don't, Yukimura-san."

Hisana snorted. "The only reason I don't carry Tenshi no Tsubasa around is so I won't be tempted to castrate half my patients and murder the rest whenever I have a bad day," she said flatly, causing the brunette's eyes to widen. "A quick piece of advice. If anyone calls you weak for not carrying a giant weapon around, remind them that if you were to have a psychotic break—say, one brought on by having to deal with an excessive amount of irritating comments—it would lead to a disaster. A massacre of epic proportions, considering the amount of time we spend around relatively helpless injured shinigami. So really, when you choose not to carry around a weapon, it's for their own good, as well as the good of the general population. It's far easier to subdue an unarmed opponent, after all." Turning to the rest of the room, she added, "The same goes for if someone calls you useless. Remind them that the mortality rate of shinigami would be over ten times higher without us. And that chances are, we've saved their life at some point or another. So when they call you useless, they're really calling their own life worthless."

"What about when people say healing is a 'feminine' job?" A blond-haired boy—Retsu vaguely recognized him as having joined last year—asked. At this, Hisana tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Well, I guess that one makes sense. As you all know, we see a lot of blood in our line of work." Several people nodded and she paused for a moment before moving on. "So it only makes sense that healers would need tougher stomachs. And it's a fact of life that females see more blood in their lifetimes than males do."

"What are you talking about?" He interrupted, confused. Hisana blinked, before her eyes curved into happy crescents—an expression almost disturbingly reminiscent of Ichimaru Gin's. Out of the corner of her eye, Retsu saw Iemura Yasochika wince.

"Isn't it obvious? We shed the insides of our organs once a month. Given the amount of blood and tissue that comes out of our genitals, of course girls see more blood than boys," she said sweetly as the boy paled, slinking back into his seat. The brunette girl from before ineffectually tried to hide a giggle behind her hand and Hisana quirked a smile at her. "If you consider that, it's only logical that most healers are girls—a lot of men can't handle the stress of the job. If you need any more proof about how hardcore women are…well, taicho's a woman. You should be honored to have such a feminine occupation." Retsu touched a hand to her lips, unable to keep from smiling softly at the implied praise in her student's words. Oblivious to Retsu's presence, Hisana then clapped her hands together and smiled. "Now that that's taken care of…any more questions?"

There was a long silence before Tsukuda spoke up quietly. "Just one. The last thing on the list…it's easy to talk about saying 'no,' but what do we do if someone…hurts us for not doing what they want us to do?" A hush fell over the room and Retsu stiffened, her expression hardening even as she waited for Hisana's answer.

A shadow passed over Hisana's face. "I can tell you what not to do," she said, eyes hardening. "What you don't do is face them alone. Everyone in this squad knows what it's like to be at the bottom. Well, except maybe taicho, but almost everyone. And that means we have to support each other, because if we don't, who else will? So if someone hurts one of us…well, Squad Four may be the healing squad, but if someone harms one of us, I have absolutely no compunctions against making them bleed." An unmistakably vicious smile crossed Hisana's face—one Retsu couldn't help but approve of. "Because that's the thing about us healers, isn't it? We're good at putting a body back together, but that also means we know exactly how to take one apart."

Looking at Hisana now—the way she casually, effortlessly, took command of a room, despite being the newest, smallest, arguably most delicate-looking figure there, Retsu couldn't help but compare her to another incredibly talented young man she'd once known. Yamada Seinosuke had been much the same—hopelessly charismatic, intensely driven, frightfully intelligent. And yet…that wasn't quite fair, was it? As much as Retsu had loved Seinosuke, had thought of him as a son, she'd never been blind to his faults and he'd always been too ambitious for his own good, so determined to escape the stigma of his Rukongai background—and in the end, it had caused him to leave. But Hisana…

"Ack! Taicho, I didn't know you were there! Did I keep you waiting? You should have said something!" Hisana exclaimed as she almost bumped into her on her way out, face reddening. Retsu laughed, reaching out to grasp one of her wrists as Hisana began gesturing wildly in embarrassment.

"You had such a lovely speech. I didn't want to interrupt you," she replied. Hisana smiled sheepishly.

"You exaggerate, taicho. Any speechwriter would cringe at my presentation," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "There was no structure whatsoever."

"But it was effective," Retsu said, raising an eyebrow. "You managed to take most of their insecurities and turn them into things to be proud of. Not everyone can do that."

"Ah, that was nothing. Sometimes you just need a different mindset," she deflected.

"Hmm. Well, it's a useful skill to have," Retsu said, smiling. "And you're quite good at it. How did you learn to do such a thing so successfully?" Hisana coughed, looking slightly awkward.

"Um…resume writing," she mumbled. "I got very good at turning my faults into admirable traits."

Retsu's lips twitched. "Well, however you came by it, I must say that you were very motivating."

"I wouldn't say that. Still…" Hisana's voice trailed off softly as she looked towards where Tsukuda was talking to Iemura, an animated light in her eyes. "I…I think I helped them feel a little better. About themselves. And that's…that's enough for me."

No, Retsu thought to herself as she contemplated the girl standing next to her—still so young, so inexperienced, but so full of a kindness that practically shone. No, Yukimura Hisana was nothing like Yamada Seinosuke.

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"What's a little girl like you doin' here?" A drunken voice slurred. "You lost?"

I stiffened, pinning the man who'd slipped into the seat next to me with a sharp glare.

"Waiting for someone. Not that it's any of your business," I said curtly, wishing that Tatsuya would just hurry the hell up already.

"Well, I wouldn't feel alright just leavin' ya here. Someone might take advantage of a delicate thing like you," he said slyly. I didn't like the gleam in his eyes.

"I assure you, I'm quite capable of taking care of myself," I said, one hand drifting towards where my knife was strapped to my waist. Black eyes caught the motion and before I could do anything, one hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, squeezing hard. With a gasp of pain, I let go of my knife, the weapon falling to the floor with a clatter.

"Now, now, there's no need for that," he said, suddenly not looking as drunk as he'd been a moment before. "I'm just tryna' help you out, after all." I pursed my lips, trying not to panic as the stranger stepped forward, crowding me against the wall. Fuck Tatsuya and fuck his tendency to conduct shady deals in even shadier places.

"Let go of me," I demanded, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I didn't quite succeed.

"Oh, come on sweetheart. I won't hurt you—I just wanna have a little taste, yeah?" He leaned in, breath stinking of alcohol.

The hand that wasn't holding my wrist captive inched its way up my thigh and fuck everything, he asked for it. Gritting my teeth, I head-butted him as hard as I could. As he recoiled, clutching his bloody nose, I reached over and grabbed his sake bottle, smashing it against the wall. Before I could do anything—like gut the asshole with the sharp end, see if he could touch me when his innards were falling out—a heavy blow to my face sent me crashing to the floor, stunned. The taste of iron sat heavy in my mouth. Through the thick haze of pain clouding my mind, I noticed that a crowd had formed.

"What is going on here?" A familiar voice asked coldly, and I almost felt like crying with relief.

"Nuthin', Yamato. Just teachin' this bitch a lesson here," the stranger said, spitting at me. A glob of saliva landed on my bruised cheek and something in Tatsuya's eyes darkened. Whatever it was, it vanished a moment later, leaving behind a friendly, genial expression.

"Ah," Tatsuya laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck like a scolded schoolboy. "My apologies, Ueno-san. That one can be a bit of a spitfire, I'm afraid." Ueno made a noise of comprehension.

"She's one of yours, then?"

"You know me. I can never resist the wild ones," Tatsuya's smile widened, as he reached out to pull me against him. I played along, tucking my face into his chest. "Makes them so much more fun to break. Don't worry; I'll be sure to thoroughly punish her for this." I flinched; objectively, I knew that he was just trying to get us away without starting a fight, but the sadistic viciousness in his voice was still startling. I'd never heard it directed towards me before.

Ueno snorted derisively. "Make sure to train your pets better next time, Yamato." Leering at me, he added, "Make sure to fuck the little slut silly, yeah? Teach her some respect."

Tatsuya's returning smile was all teeth. "You can count on it."

He waited until Ueno was out of earshot before turning back to me. "C'mon. Let's get you out of here," he murmured, grabbing my arm gently. As soon as we were out of the bar, he took my chin with one hand and tilted my head to the side to inspect my cheek.

"You're hurt," he said softly. There was a simmering sort of fury in his eyes as he took in the sight of the bruise blossoming on my face. "He'll pay for this. I swear to you, Hisana-chan, he'll pay."

I laughed hollowly. "It's Inuzuri. I've had worse—we all have. This is nothing."

"Regardless." His fingers were gentle as he lightly skimmed my cheek with his fingers. "I take care of what's mine. Don't worry—he'll never touch you again."

"Goddammit," I swore to myself as I raced home. "Kaori's gonna kill me."

It was kind of ridiculous that I had a curfew again, but Kaori was weird about me staying out after dark. Then again, Inuzuri wasn't exactly the safest place for anyone, let alone a child. And this was my third time in the past two months that I'd lost track of time while picking herbs in the forest, so yeah. Kaori was definitely going to yell at me.

I was about five blocks from home when I caught sight of a familiar figure. Where the hell was Tatsuya going so late at night? I wondered, frowning. Making a split-second decision, I chose to follow him—hey, I was going to be in trouble either way. Maybe normally I would have let it go, but…he wasn't going in the direction of any bars or brothels or wherever the hell Kazuki and Tatsuya went to during their spare time (I wasn't stupid, I'd seen the lipstick stains). No, instead he was heading towards the outer slums, where Rukia and I had lived before Tatsuya had found us.

Sticking to the shadows like Kaori had taught me, I followed him at a safe distance, wandering through side alleys and mostly-deserted roads.

After about ten minutes, I debated forgetting the whole thing and just making my way home, but I'd already come this far. Not to mention, for the past two or so days, Tatsuya had been coming home with blood on his clothes—the dark coloring of his clothes didn't hide the bloodstains completely—and considering the fact that he never seemed to be injured, well…I was curious.

Still, this would be a complete invasion of privacy, and Kaori's warning about not getting on Tatsuya's bad side still rang in my head. And considering the fact that I had no idea how Tatsuya would react to me essentially spying on him, the logical choice was to leave quietly and run home as fast as I could.

As it happened, the choice was taken out of my hands. The wind picked up, blowing a cloud of dust into my face. Against my will, I sneezed. Tatsuya whirled around.

"Who's there?" He demanded, sharply. Wincing a bit sheepishly, I stepped out from behind a building.

"It's just me," I said, shifting my feet nervously. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes.

"Hisana-chan? What are you doing here?" Tatsuya asked, relaxing a fraction.

"Well, I was coming home a bit late…and I saw you walking in this direction. I, uh, got curious," I said, voice small. "I'm really sorry for following you, but you've been coming home with blood on your clothes and I've been worried about you and Kaori keeps brushing me off whenever I ask her about it and I just wanted to make sure you were okay." I said the last part all in a rush. Tatsuya's features softened.

"You don't have to be sorry, Hisana-chan." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Actually, maybe it's for the best that you're here. C'mon, I have something that I want to show you. I think you'll like it," he said in a cheerful tone. "We're close. It's just around the corner aaaaand— here we are!"

"You wanted to show me a shack?" I asked flatly, staring at the abandoned, dilapidated house in front of me. Tatsuya laughed, grabbing me by the hand and dragging me inside.

"Of course not."

"Then…?" I asked questioningly. He winked at me.

"Just a little promise that I'm fulfilling. There!" Tatsuya pointed to the corner of the room and I froze abruptly at the sight of a miserable-looking figure tied to a chair. Even at this distance, I could see that he was horribly injured; his hands were swollen and inflamed from multiple broken fingers, one eye was bruised shut, and his breathing was unsteady. "Look familiar?"

"Tatsuya, that's–" I said softly, swallowing hard. He didn't reply, instead bouncing over and yanking the man's head back cruelly.

"Ueno-san! I've brought you a visitor today!" Tatsuya sang out, a kind of vindictive glee in his voice. And I'd seen hints of it before, that same sadistic satisfaction that only came at someone else's expense, but it'd never been this clear until now.

Ueno groaned, his one uninjured eye flitting open before settling on me. Cold hatred entered his expression.

"You! You're the bitch who–"

"Nuh-uh," Tatsuya chided gently, his tone a stark contrast to the way he reached down and casually broke another finger. Ueno let out a howl of pain and suddenly I understood why Tatsuya had chosen this location. No one around to hear the screams. "I wouldn't be so rude to Hisana-chan. That's what landed you in this mess in the first place, after all.

"Tatsuya, you–" I began again, trying to reconcile the teenager I'd come to trust over the past few months with…this. He looked up at me grinning, eyes bright.

"I told you that I'd make him pay, didn't I?" He said, and oh god, he sounded proud.

"You didn't have to hurt him like this!" I blurted out. Tatsuya sighed, an indulgent smile on his face.

"Still so kind. But if you insist…" He looked down at Ueda and a disgusted expression crossed his face. "It's your lucky day, Ueno-san. It looks like Hisana-chan is far more merciful than I am, so I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself. Apologize to Hisana-chan for your behavior the other day, and I'll make your death quick. But I want you to beg for forgiveness," he said softly, dark eyes glinting.

"Go to hell, you sick fuck," Ueno spat out, blood splattering onto Tatsuya's face. "Go ahead, kill me—my brothers will make sure that whore of yours dies painfully, and you'll be forced to sit there watching, helpless, as they take their turns with her, as she screams–"

A hand wrapped around his throat, cutting his words off abruptly. Tatsuya's face was carefully blank as he stared down at Ueno, and for the first time since we'd met, I felt afraid of him.

"Hisana-chan." I shivered at the coldness in his tone. "You might want to go outside for this."

I didn't need to be told twice.

I didn't know how long I sat there, arms wrapped around my knees, staring blankly ahead. All I knew was that I'd started covering my ears tightly sometime after the begging started. I didn't quite manage to block it out. An indeterminate amount of time later, there was an sickening snapping sound—final and unmistakable—and Tatsuya walked out, hands stained red. I scrambled to my feet.

"He's dead, isn't he." It wasn't a question.

"Of course. I would never allow him to live after what he did to you," he confirmed. I nodded, feeling oddly numb. A glimmer of understanding entered Tatsuya's eyes as he walked towards me.

"Don't blame yourself, Hisana-chan. I know that you hate seeing people hurt, but remember what he was like when you met him. He's dangerous, Hisana-chan, he wouldn't have stopped and he would've killed you if I hadn't been there. And who knows how many other girls he's left broken on the streets, or how many girls he would've raped and killed in the future. He's not innocent and he deserved to die. Now come on; let's go home." He reached out to me and I couldn't help it—I flinched away. Tatsuya looked like he'd been slapped, and for the first time, a hint of worry crossed his face.

"You—you're afraid of me," he said softly, voice pained. "I—Hisana, you know that I would never hurt you, right? Look at me." He took my face in his hands—the same hands that had snapped a neck without hesitation not ten minutes earlier—forcing me to meet his eyes. "I would never hurt you or Rukia, I promise. I've never lied to you, have I? And…and I know that I'm not a good person, but I'd only hurt those who threatened my family. I swear." Tatsuya's voice was impossibly earnest. "You can trust me."

I was silent for a long moment as I thought back to how my life had improved drastically ever since Tatsuya had taken me in, how I no longer had to worry about food or shelter or finding a knife in my back. How I never would have managed to find a life with Rukia here if Tatsuya hadn't been there to teach me the skills I needed to survive. How even now, I wasn't sure if I could survive on my own, with just me and Rukia against the world.

"I know," I said finally. The sigh of relief he made was unmistakable and I let him pull me into a tight embrace.

"Thank you. I promise Hisana-chan, I'll always take care of you," he murmured, holding my face against his chest.

"I believe you," I said back, closing my eyes. Because when it came down to it, it didn't matter what he'd just did. It didn't matter that he'd just tortured a man for a minor offense, that he killed as easily as breathing, that behind that smile hid someone who found enjoyment in another's suffering. It didn't matter because I was depending on him to keep Rukia and me safe.

I had to trust Tatsuya. What other choice did I have?

Chapter Text

"Are you really sure this is a good idea?" Tsukuda asked nervously as I braided up her hair. "I mean…won't taicho get mad?"

"Not if she doesn't know," I answered. "Besides, it isn't like we're harming anyone, right?"

"I guess not," Tsukuda said, pressing her fingers together nervously. "Still, it does seem a bit…childish. Not to mention, I always thought the saying 'place yourself in their shoes' was supposed to be, well, less literal and more metaphorical."

"As long as it works, who cares?" I shrugs. "And we won't know if it works or not until we try it out, will we?"

"We're going to get caught," Tsukuda moaned despairingly.

"Even if we do, what's the worst that could happen? We get ourselves banned from laundry duty?" I snorted, handing her the recently washed and dried garment. "More of a benefit than a drawback, if you ask me. Now go ahead—put it on."

"I…I still think that this is a bad idea," Tsukuda muttered, slipping on the haori with great trepidation. "I mean, there are other ways to increase my confidence and—oh." She stilled as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. "I look…wow."

"Right?" I asked grinning, throwing one arm around her shoulders. "You look badass, Tsukuda-san."

The faintest blush rose to her cheeks as she stared at her reflection, the pure white captain's haori lending an almost palpable air of authority to her slim figure. It was similar, I mused, to the feeling I got when I put on a doctor's lab coat for the first time. There were just some outfits that radiated control.

"Now, who are you?" I asked, voice soft. Tsukuda cleared her throat, chin tilting up the barest fraction.

"Tsukuda Ayame, member of the Fourth Division," she said without hesitation.

"And you are…?"

"Confident. Calm. In charge," she answered steadily.

"And what do you do the next time someone challenges your orders?" I questioned. What would Unohana-taicho do?

Tsukuda faltered for a moment before glancing back towards the mirror, as if searching for strength. It seemed to work since she straightened up resolutely, expression hardening.

"I make them regret it," she said, voice clear. "And I show them why it's a mistake to cross me."

"And why is that?" I asked.

"Because I'm a shinigami but more than that, I'm a healer and I deserve respect," Tsukuda said evenly. I was silent for a moment, feeling unexpected pride well up inside me.

"Now there's the Tsukuda Ayame I know," I murmured, grip tightening around her for a fraction of a second. She turned to face me, cheeks flushed and eyes oddly bright.

"Yukimura-san-" She began. That was as far as she got before the door slid open and an irate-looking Iemura stepped through.

"What is taking you two so long with the laundry-" He began before stepping dead in his tracks at the sight of the normally-timid seventh seat wearing his captain's haori. "Yukimura, explain yourself."

I huffed in indignation—Tsukuda was the one wearing the haori, so why did he automatically blame me?—and released Tsukuda from my grasp.

"Just a little experiment I'm conducting. You'll be happy to know that it was a success," I said, folding my arms across my chest. Iemura opened his mouth, no doubt prepared to go on a rant about 'propriety' and 'respect' and 'goddammit Yukimura you can't just go around playing dress-up with a captain's haori,' but I cut him off before he could continue.

"Say, Iemura-sempai," I said, eying him speculatively. "How would you like to experience life as a captain for the next ten minutes?"

"Hisana-san, one of the other officers said you were in here and I was wondering if you'd like to—please tell me that's not Unohana-taicho's haori."

"Hey Isane! Hey Hanataro! It's great to see you guys—come join us, we have plenty of room."

"You guys were throwing a party in here, and you didn't invite me? I'm hurt."

"Ogidou-san, what a delightful surprise! Come on in!"

"I brought a few friends, hope you don't mind?"

"Not at all, the more the merrier."

"You know, I don't actually think you've gotten to try the haori on yet, Yukimura-san," Tsukuda mused. "Which isn't really fair, since this was all your idea to begin with." Isane looked at me in surprise.

"Well, we can't have that," she protested. "I mean, half the division's gotten a turn at this point; you should get a turn too."

"Ah," I laughed. "That's not really necessary, guys, although I'm touched by the offer—" Iemura cut me off sharply.

"Nonsense. You're the one who deserves it most after taicho—" Then, before I could make sense of that inexplicable statement, he continued, "—and besides, given that this was all your fault, it's only right that you be just as complicit in this as the rest of us."

"It'll be too big on me," I protested half-heartedly. "I don't want the bottom to get dirty by trailing it on the floor." Ogidou grinned at me.

"That's alright, we can pull up a stool for you to stand on," he teased. I scowled and pointedly ignored him, grabbing the haori from Hanataro and slipping it on.

There was a beat of silence. Then—

Ogidou let out a snort. I glared furiously at him as he cracked up, doubling over in laughter.

"It's not funny!" I snapped, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.

"Of course it's not," Isane placated, although the corners of her mouth twitched tellingly. Next to her, I heard Ogidou mutter, "You're right, it's fucking hilarious," before Yamanaka stomped on his foot. "You look very intimidating, Hisana-san."

"I agree," Tsukuda said. It might have been more believable had the expression on her face not been one typically reserved for baby ducklings and fluffy kittens.

"I hate you all," I muttered, grumpily staring at my reflection. It did nothing to improve my mood. Stupid sleeves that went down to my knees…stupid tall people with their stupidly impractical clothing…I doubted I'd even be able to walk in this thing without tripping over my feet. Hanataro—the next shortest person after me—patted me on the shoulder commiseratingly.

The sound of the door opening momentarily distracted me from my increasingly foul mood and I looked over, an irritated response already forming on my lips.

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware that I look ridiculous so if you're going to laugh, do it n—oh, it's you, taicho," I finished weakly. Meanwhile, the rest of the room seemed frozen in horror.

Unohana glanced around before looking back at me, one eyebrow raised delicately. For a moment, I swore I caught a flicker of amusement cross her face before it was replaced by a sweet smile.

"I'd wondered where half of my division had wandered off to," she said mildly. I winced. "I'm glad to see that you were enjoying yourselves. Do continue—I wouldn't want you to stop on my account."

"Uh taicho, I swear this isn't what it looks like—"

"And Hisana?" She said, cutting me off. I snapped my mouth shut so quickly my teeth clacked together. "I have no objection to you wearing my clothes but I do request that you ask first next time." With that, she shut the door behind her.

For a moment, I just stood there in silence. Then I tossed the haori at Iemura before heading for the window.

"Yukimura! And where do you think you're going?" He barked.

"Off to commit seppuku via jumping out of a window, with any luck. Failing that, I'm off to the Thirteenth Division to see if Shiba-fukutaicho's offer of letting me join is still valid."

Chapter Text

On the morning of the autumn moon festival, Renji finds Hisana alone in the Fourth Division kitchen, kneading a giant ball of dough. There's flour everywhere- it covers her arms up to her elbows, and there are streaks of it on her clothes, her face, in her hair. She doesn't seem to mind though, flashing him a warm smile that momentarily erases the tiredness in her eyes.

"Hey, Hisana-nee-san," he greets, eyeing the rows upon rows of dango spread out on the table before her. "I see you've been busy."

"Ah, just a little," she laughs sheepishly. "Rukia and I are handing them out to the kids in the nearby districts later."

"Gotcha. Mind if I lend a hand, then?" He offers. She gives him another fond smile, moving to the side to make room for him.

"That would be much appreciated, thank you."

"How long have you been up, anyway?" Renji wonders out loud as he helps her shape the dough into balls.

"Since six," she answers absently. "I figured since I have the day off, well…"

"You'd spend the time making enough dango to feed an army?" Renji asks dryly. Hisana ducks her head in answer, a faint smile curving her lips up.

"I suppose I'm feeling a little wistful, since I won't be able to participate in Inuzuri's annual dango eating contest this year. So this is me trying to make the best of things," Hisana says, laughing a little. "It just doesn't feel right celebrating the festival without tsukimi dango."

"Yeah, it sucks that we're going to miss it," Renji agrees quietly. "It's always been my favorite holiday."

"Really?" Hisana asks, looking at him in slight surprise. "I didn't know that."

"Well, since I got sent to Inuzuri, anyway," Renji amends. "Maybe things were different once, but I wouldn't know. I mean, I don't even remember my parents, so…" His voice trails off for a moment. "I know I was poor, though. Before, back when I was still alive. Always hungry, never havin' enough ta eat…that kind of stuff sticks with you, yeah? It made transitioning to the Rukongai pretty easy though, so I guess in a weird way I was lucky."

"Renji," Hisana begins softly before stopping, looking at a loss for words.

"You know why the autumn moon festival's my favorite holiday?" Renji interrupts. "Two months after coming to Inuzuri, I woke up to one of the other kids shaking me awake, telling me to hurry up or I'd miss the annual dango eating contest. When I told him there was no way I'd be able to pay the entrance fee, he just laughed and told me that it didn't matter, because 'Sensei always covers the cost for any kid that can't afford it.' Man, I ate so much that day I thought I'd puke afterwards. I didn't care though, because that? That was the first time I ever remember feeling full."

He turns to where Hisana has one hand covering her mouth, violet eyes shining with tears.

"I've never forgotten that day, Hisana-nee-san. I just wanted you to know that."

"I—" Hisana swallows heavily before a thought seems to strike her and she lets out a choked laugh. "I just realized, you're the kid who beat Kazuki's record for 'most dango eaten by the five minute mark.' He sulked for weeks about the 'red-hair punk that probably cheated his way to victory.'"

Renji blinks in surprise before smiling proudly. "Well, yeah. As if Kazuki could beat me when it comes to food," he brags. "Please, he doesn't even come close. Mitsuo, on the other hand…"

"Tell me about it. I have no idea how he does it, given that he doesn't have high spiritual energy," Hisana muses, before hesitating a little. "I…I'm glad I was able to make things easier for you, even if it was just for one day a year. I'm sorry I couldn't do more—"

"You know, for all that everyone back home callsyou the Angel of Inuzuri, you aren't actually a messenger sent from heaven," Renji remarks casually. "So stop trying to act like one. When you gain the power to end all hunger and poverty with a snap of your fingers, then you can blame yourself for not doing more."

"You're beginning to sound like Mitsuo now," Hisana teases, tossing a ball of dough at him.

"That's fine. As long as I don't begin to sound like Kazuki, I'm cool with it," Renji snorts. He catches the dough absently with one hand before pausing, looking down at it thoughtfully.

"Hey, Hisana-nee-san?"

"Yeah?"

"Would it be okay if I went with you and Rukia this afternoon? When…when you go hand these out to the kids, I mean," Renji says in a small voice, not quite able to meet her eyes. He can feel her watching him, and when she speaks up again, there's a note of gentle understanding in her voice.

"Of course, Renji-kun. I'd love for you to come with us."

Chapter Text

Kurosawa Haru maintains that he didn't mean to eavesdrop. It's just that…well, he's worried about Kuchiki-fukutaicho. He knows he's not the only one either; she's been unusually short tempered these past couple of weeks and even the most oblivious members of the Fourth Division have noticed. Sure, part of it may be attributed to the fact that both her husband and her sister are currently on a 2-month long mission in the living world, but the other day she'd actually snapped at Ukitake-taicho before promptly bursting into tears, mumbling an apology, and running off.

So yeah. Haru thinks he has decent reason to be concerned at this point, especially given that fifteen minutes ago, Kuchiki-fukutaicho had entered the Fourth Division headquarters (already an unusual occurrence, given that it's half past noon and she's normally in here by seven in the morning) with an incredibly distracted look on her face, before making a beeline for Unohana-taicho's office without so much as offering a greeting to anyone in her way.

This is around the time that Haru decides it's a good time for a little extra spring cleaning (everyone knows that Kuchiki-fukutaicho is a stickler for good hygiene; since it's pretty obvious that she's fairly stressed right now, what better way to cheer her up than by going above-and-beyond his usual cleaning duties?). If he chooses to sweep the corridor outside Unohana-taicho's office first, well, it only makes sense that he start with that area. Taicho deserves only the best, after all. And if he just so happens to sweep that area a few more times than strictly necessary, hey, that's just him being thorough.

…okay, maybe it's possible that the eavesdropping may not have been strictly accidental. Haru can't bring himself to regret doing so though, not if it means getting to the bottom of what's been bothering Kuchiki-fukutaicho. After all, if he doesn't know what's wrong, how can he help fix it?

"So, you're certain then?" Kuchiki-fukutaicho's voice comes from behind the door, sounding a bit shell-shocked. Haru frowns, straining to hear more (he's also holding his broom about a foot off the ground, and it's a sign of how focused he is on the conversation happening inside the room that he doesn't realize he's now sweeping the air). He can count on one hand the number of times he's heard his lieutenant sound so unsure, and it's never preceded anything good. "I'm really…?"

"Yes," Unohana replies softly. "You were right, Hisana."

There's a long silence and then Kuchiki-fukutaicho lets out a slightly choked noise, full of emotion. Haru swallows, hands clenching tightly around the handle of his broom, because that? That had sounded like a sob.

"I-I'm sorry," she apologizes wetly. "I just…I-I can't believe…"

"Take all the time you need," Unohana says, gentle and kind and reassuring. Haru's never heard her talk to a patient any other way, not even in the face of the most terrible injuries, and while he's always admired that ability of hers, he curses it now because it gives nothing away on how the situation really is.

It must be bad though, for Kuchiki-fukutaicho to cry about it. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to figure out how he's going to break this to everyone else. God, and with Kuchiki-fukutaicho and Rukia-chan out of the Seireitei—

It doesn't matter, Haru decides firmly, hands tightening around the handle of his broom. It doesn't matter that they're not here, because she won't be alone. She has me, and taicho, and the rest of the Fourth, and we're all going to help her through this.

Haru tunes back into the conversation just in time to hear Unohana-taicho mention something about weekly health check-ups.

"—so that I can keep a close eye on things," Unohana-taicho says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. "And of course, I don't think I have to tell you to refrain from using kido and to stay away from anything too physically taxing." A pause. "In fact, perhaps it's better if I take you off active duty for the foreseeable future."

"If you think that's for the best," Kuchiki-fukutaicho agrees.

Haru drops his broom. Dear god, it was worse than he'd thought.

"What." Ogidou Harunobu says flatly.

"I'm telling you, it's true!" Haru insists. "Kuchiki-fukutaicho's really sick!"

With a sigh, Harunobu turns away and goes back to folding the bedsheets. "If you're going to spread stupid rumors, couldn't you have at least bothered to make up something believable?"

"I'm not lying!" Suddenly angry, Haru grabs Harunobu by the arm and forces the other healer to face him. "Look, I was outside taicho's office when they were talking, and it sounded really serious, okay? I wouldn't joke about something like this."

"Then you must have misheard," Harunobu says, shaking his head. "There's just…no, it's got to be a mistake. Besides, don't you think Kuchiki-fukutaicho would have said something?"

"When's the last time Kuchiki-fukutaicho said anything in regards to her own health aside from 'I'm fine, don't worry about me'?" Haru snorts.

"Okay, I'll give you that," Harunobu admits. "But I still think you're overreacting. So she took some time off, what's the big deal? As far as I'm concerned, she deserves it. Aside from trips to Inuzuri every two years or so, she hasn't taken a single vacation day in her time here."

"Look, I know it sounds hard to believe, but you weren't there. She—" Haru swallows. "—she was crying, man. And sure, maybe I don't know exactly what she has, but I do know that it's serious. I mean, she took time off. Think about that for a moment, will you? Kuchiki Hisana willingly went on a medical leave of absence."

For the first time, a flash of uncertainty crosses Harunobu's face.

"That doesn't mean anything," he protests weakly. "She's allowed to take some time off if she's not feeling well—just because she refused to when she broke her arm that one time…or when that Clown-faced bastard 'accidentally' poisoned her…or when she ended up with four broken ribs and a concussion after that spar with Ichimaru-fukutaicho…" Harunobu trails off, horrified, as Haru nods grimly. "Oh my god, she must be dying."

"Kuchiki-fukutaicho?" Nakada Fujiko asks hesitantly as she spots the Fourth Division lieutenant in her office, pouring over a stack of paperwork. "Aren't you…aren't you supposed to be resting right now?"

"You too, huh?" Hisana smiles wryly, flipping over another sheet of paper. "You're the third person today to ask me that question, and I've only been here an hour. I'm guessing by the reactions of everyone here that the secret is out?" Hisana's voice is carefully blank and Fujiko takes a brief moment to mentally curse Haru. Of course Kuchiki-fukutaicho would be upset; she'd barely had the chance to come to terms with the news herself and the idiot had gone and blabbed her private life to the entire division.

"It's okay, I'm not mad at you Nakada-san," Hisana says kindly. The other girl has a faint smile on her lips as she studies Fujiko, having apparently guessed the direction of her thoughts. "The news would have come out eventually. Granted, I would have liked to tell Byakuya and Rukia first, but if people know, they know. Honestly, I should have known better, given the strength of the Seireitei's rumor mill."

There's a spark of humor in Hisana's eyes and Fujiko swallows, feeling her admiration for her lieutenant grow. She's pretty sure that if she was in Kuchiki-fukutaicho's place, she'd be in bed and huddled under a dozen blankets right now, not doing paperwork and cracking jokes to make some girl twenty ranks below her feel better.

"I…I promise to do everything I can to help you through this," Fujiko vows, making a mental note to enlist a couple friends to help her contain the rumors. Or, failing that, to help her stop any nosy shinigami from bothering Kuchiki-fukutaicho about her illness. She deserved the chance to tell people herself, when she was ready. "You just focus on taking care of yourself, alright? Anything you need, anything at all, just tell one of us!" To her mortification, Fujiko feels herself tearing up and she angrily forces them back. Kuchiki-fukutaicho was the one who was sick and she wasn't crying, so why was she?

"That's very kind of you to offer," Hisana says, looking slightly surprised at the fervor in Fujiko's words. It only makes her feel worse—for as long as she can remember, Kuchiki-fukutaicho has always been someone she's felt she could turn to for any worries or troubles in her life. And for her to be so taken aback at Fujiko offering to return the favor…had that relationship really been so one-sided? "This is all new territory for me, I'm afraid, so I'll need all the help I can get…" Her voice trails off. "Are you feeling quite alright, Nakada-san?"

"I'm fine!" Fujiko squeaks, choking back the sob that threatens to escape. "I just…I want you to be, that's all." At that, Hisana's expression softens.

"Well, I can't say that it's going to be easy, especially with Byakuya gone right now and all," she admits. "But I'm in the best possible hands right now, I've got people I trust supporting me—" Here Hisana glances at her warmly and Fujiko can't help but blush slightly at the implication. "—and that's all I can ask for, really."

Fujiko leaves not long after, promising to stop by later and drop off some homemade baked goods because "You need to keep your strength up, Kuchiki-fukutaicho!" Hisana watches her go, a slightly puzzled frown on her lips as she mentally reviews the other girl's behavior.

She'd expected that a few people would get emotional at the news and had anticipated some concern, just…not on this level. It leaves her feeling equal parts touched and worried (Unohana-taicho had mentioned that compared to a human, her body would be put under a lot more strain and thus the associated risks would be proportionally higher. Still, the way Nakada—and several other members of the Fourth—had been acting, you'd think she was dying or something).

If they're scared, it's only because they care, Tenshi no Tsubasa points out.

Hmm. I guess you're right, Hisana agrees, choosing to put the matter out of her head. I suppose I'm very lucky then, to have so many people care so much. Absently, she rests one hand against her stomach and smiles.

Yes, very lucky indeed.

"Well?" Haru snaps as Harunobu slips into the room, closing the door behind him. "What'd taicho say?"

"From what I've gathered, there's a pretty good chance of everything turning out fine as long as she gets through the next few weeks. Apparently, the first three months are the riskiest period for things to go wrong," Harunobu sighs, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "What a time for Kuchiki-taicho to be away, huh?"

"Hey now, let's worry about one thing at a time here," Haru says hastily, even as Hayashi Tadahiko pales at the thought of Kuchiki Byakuya's reaction to his wife's illness. Harunobu doesn't blame him—the Sixth Division captain's anger is a scary, scary thing indeed. So scary, in fact, that 'sakuraphobia' has become a legitimized disorder in the Seireitei.

There's even a support group for it. They meet on Thursday evenings. By the way things are going, Harunobu's willing to bet that they'll be getting some new members soon.

"What about you two? Anything new to report?" Haru continues in a quieter voice, turning to the girls sitting in the corner of the room. "You're the ones closest to her. How's she doing?"

Harunobu watches as Kotetsu Isane and Tsukuda Ayame exchange a glance, before Isane turns to offer the rest of the group a weak smile.

"It's been hard," she admits. "But, well, you know Hisana. She's trying her best not to let it show, to pretend that nothing's wrong. She actually got in a shouting match with Iemura-san over it yesterday, kept telling him to 'quit coddling her' and to 'stop wasting division resources by assigning healers to stalk her.' Even threatened to send him on a week-long mission to the Rukongai if he didn't listen. Which honestly, we should have expected. I mean it's Hisana; of course she'd hate the thought of troubling us."

"Stupid," Ayame sniffs angrily, wiping at her eyes. "As if she could ever be a burden. But of course, she doesn't see it that way, and now she's…she's—" Blowing her nose loudly into a tissue, she stands up and promptly runs out of the room. "Excuse me for a moment."

"…Kuchiki-fukutaicho's been getting worse, hasn't she?" Haru asks solemnly as he watches Ayame go.

"She fainted in the hallway today," Isane confirms quietly. "If Hanataro-kun hadn't been there to catch her…" Her voice trails off. "It's getting more and more difficult to keep this from the other squads too. I know Yamanaka-san and Nakada-san are trying their best, but people have started to notice that…well, that something's wrong. Hard not to, when she can hardly keep anything down these days, sleeps twice as much as she used to, and walks around with a constant low-grade fever."

"Does anyone actually know exactly what is wrong with her?" Tadahiko asks curiously. "I mean, judging by the symptoms, the most popular theory is that she has some kind of reiatsu-draining, nutrient sucking parasite that's attached itself onto one of her vital organs, but Unohana-taicho and Kuchiki-fukutaicho are the only ones who know the details. Wouldn't it be easier to help if we had a better idea of what's going on?"

"Yes, let's go and ask Kuchiki-fukutaicho to tell us all about the dangerous parasite currently sucking the life out of her. That'll cheer her up," Haru snaps.

"Haru," Harunobu says warningly, before turning to Tadahiko.

"I did consider talking to taicho in more detail, but she's made it clear that she has the situation in control for now. And besides, if it ever gets to the point where it's out of even Unohana-taicho's hands—realistically, what are the chances of any of us being able to do anything?" Harunobu points out reasonably. At that, Tadahiko deflates.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he says, looking down. "I just hate being so helpless, you know?"

Harunobu nods in agreement, running one hand through his hair.

"Believe me, I feel the same way. Still, just because we can't do anything about her condition doesn't mean that we're useless. There's plenty of things we can do to help."

"Really? Like what?" Tadahiko asks dubiously.

"Well for starters, you can stop running away every time the phrase 'vaginal discharge' comes up," Isane suggests, hiding a smile behind her hand. From where she's sitting next to her, Yamanaka Aiko scoffs in agreement.

"I still can't believe that out of all the body fluids we've had to deal with, that's the one you're most uncomfortable with. It'd almost be funny if it weren't so sad," Aiko says in disgust, flipping her long, blonde hair disdainfully. "For god's sake, you're a healer. Woman up."

"Oi!" Tadahiko says indignantly, flushed red with embarrassment. "So what if I'm a little uncomfortable with stuff that comes out of, um—" His face turns an even brighter red as he stumbles over his words. Harunobu sighs and covers his face with his hands. "—that specific part of Kuchiki-fukutaicho's body? There's nothing wrong with that. And besides, isn't the expression supposed to be 'man up'?"

In response, Aiko lifts a delicately groomed eyebrow.

"Hmm, let's think about this," she says sarcastically. "Our captain's a woman, and not even Zaraki-taicho dares to cross her. Our lieutenant's a woman, and when she speaks, captains listen. In fact, out of our top five commanding officers, four are women. Face it, if the phrase 'man up' has a place in any squad, it's not in this one."

Healthy skin glow, my ass, Hisana thinks viciously to herself as finds herself throwing up in a bucket for the umpteenth time that day. If that so-called glow isn't just sweat caused by episodes of projectile vomiting, I'll eat my blanket.

"I don't think I've seen anyone throw up that much in my life. You must be getting one hell of an ab workout," Yamanaka comments, tone a curious mixture of disgust, awe, and concern. She hands Hisana a wet washcloth. "Here, you look like you need it."

"Aiko-san!" Ayame scolds from where she's holding Hisana's hair out of her face. "Have some tact, will you? Hisana-san, don't listen to her, you look fine—"

"Nah, Yamanaka-san's right. I'm not exactly a glamorous sight right now," Hisana waves her off, wiping her mouth with the offered washcloth. Leaning back against her pillow, she smiles tiredly up at them. "Thank you, by the way. I know I'm not exactly the most pleasant company to be around right now, so I just want you to know how much I appreciate you putting up with me." One side of her mouth quirks up in amusement. "And to think, Byakuya doesn't even know how lucky he is; bastard's already managed to dodge a month of dealing with my mood swings and general grossness completely by accident."

"If Kuchiki-taicho's the type to complain about something like this, then he's not half the man he pretends to be," Ayame says, voice abruptly sharp. "And you don't need to thank us for looking after you. It's the least we could do." Hisana blinks, a little taken aback by the other girl's change in tone.

"Well, I'm grateful nonetheless," she says cautiously.

"Don't worry about it. Like Ayame said, we're here to help," Yamanaka says lightly, causing Hisana to frown at the note of forced cheerfulness in the blonde's voice. The entirety of Squad 4 has been on edge around her all month, and while she knows she's been rather moody lately, she hadn't been that bad, had she?

"Well prepare yourselves, because it's only going to get worse over the next couple of months." Which is definitely something she's not looking forward to. It was one thing to know, objectively, what was going to happen, and another thing entirely to actually experience it.

"Is there a reason why we can't use healing kido to help alleviate the symptoms?" Ayame asks, voice carefully neutral. "It does seem like this whole thing is taking a rather large toll on you."

"Something about my body being in a hyper-defensive state where it'll reject just about any unfamiliar reiatsu, even most types of healing kido," Hisana says absently, before noticing the look of horror on Ayame's face. "It's not as bad as it sounds. I mean as far as side effects go, it's a fairly rare one, but it does happen occasionally. Honestly, I'm more concerned about the drain on my reiatsu." Fainting like that had been humiliating, and she'd rather not have a repeat performance. Iemura's reaction hadn't helped things either. Seriously, that man was like the king of overreactions—it had been one measly dizzy spell, hardly the end of the world.

"You mean this is going to get worse?" Aiko asks, not quite managing to conceal the dismay in her voice.

"Tell me about it. I'm beginning to see why this doesn't happen that often in the afterlife; I'm half-convinced thisis going to kill me, and I haven't even gotten to the grand finale yet," Hisana says grumpily. And to add…well, injury to injury, Unohana had banned her from eating any ramen for the next seven and a half months, even going so far as to replace all the ramen in the Kuchiki clan kitchens with spinach (how?). Tenshi no Tsubasa had laughed at her for hours.

With a sigh, she turns her attention back to where Ayame and Yamanaka appear to be having a nonverbal conversation with eye contact and weird expressions alone. "At least Byakuya's going to be back soon. I've missed him," Hisana says wistfully. "I do hope he takes the news well. I mean, I'm almost positive he will, but it's going to be a pretty big shock for him." Chewing on her bottom lip, she narrows her eyes thoughtfully. "Maybe I should line the floor with cushions first, just in case he faints or something. He's kind of a sissy at times; he might not take a fall as well as I did."

"What do you mean we have to break the news to Kuchiki-taicho?" Haru yelps. "Are you insane?!"

"Look, I don't like this either but the alternative is him freaking out in front of Kuchiki-fukutaicho. And you know he will freak out," Aiko points out. "So it's either him freaking out in front of you beforehand, or him freaking out at her, and I know which one I prefer."

"The second one!" Haru hisses frantically. "I mean, theoretically there are rules preventing captains from killing off ordinary officers left and right, but you and I both know that's total bullshit or else Kurotsuchi-taicho wouldn't still be leading the Twelfth. I'm too young to die, Yamanaka-san."

"He wouldn't kill you. It would make Kuchiki-fukutaicho sad," Aiko points out reasonably. "Maybe maim you a bit, but I hear scars are considered pretty manly nowadays."

Remarkably, this does absolutely nothing to make Haru feel better.

"Well, why can't you do it then?" Haru glares at her. Aiko raises her eyebrows at him.

"And risk this face? I don't think so," she snorts. "Please, it's clear that between the two of us, sacrificing your looks would be the lesser tragedy in the grand scheme of things."

"What about Ogidou then? Can't he do it?" Haru asks, after pushing down a sudden, murderous urge to punch his fellow Fourth Division member. His mother had raised him to never hit a girl (unless she hit him first—then she was fair game) and he wasn't about to disappoint her now. Even if Yamanaka did deserve it, in his objective, unbiased opinion.

"His looks are better than both of ours combined, so that's a no," Aiko says, idly inspecting her nails. "Besides, you were the one to tell the rest of us about this, so it's only fitting that you extend the same courtesy to Kuchiki-taicho, don't you think?"

Unable to refute that, Haru slumps against the wall, defeated.

"I hate you," he mumbles under his breath.

"I know," Aiko says, patting him on the back. "If it makes you feel any better, I promise I'll come up with a better story for your death than 'he got killed by a bunch of angry flower petals.'"

"Um, K-Kuchiki-taicho? Do…do you have a moment?" A voice squeaks from behind Byakuya. A quick glance downwards tells him that the voice belongs to a skinny kid with round glasses and messy brown hair. He's wearing the Fourth Division uniform though, which gives Byakuya pause.

"Yes?" He asks, turning slightly.

"Um." The kid gulps, swallowing heavily. A bead of sweat drips down his face onto his uniform but he doesn't seem to notice as he wrings his hands together nervously. "It's actually, uh, somewhat of a delicate matter so if you could just follow me into—or out here is fine!" He amends hastily as he sees Byakuya's eyes narrow slightly. Patience waning, Byakuya cuts him off, already eager for this conversation to end.

"Is the matter urgent? I'm afraid that I have somewhere t—"

"Hisana's dying!" The kid blurts out. A fraction of a second later, he seems to realize his mistake as he covers his mouth with both hands, but it's too late. Whirling around, Byakuya's gaze sharpens as he refocuses on the boy.

"What did you say?" Byakuya asks dangerously, only for the boy to fall to his knees, struggling to breathe against the sudden onslaught of Byakuya's reiatsu. With a frustrated growl, Byakuya forces himself to reel his spiritual energy in before proceeding to drag the boy up and slam him into a wall. "Speak," he commands, ignoring the sound of bones creaking beneath his hand. "I swear to you, boy, if this turns out to be some sick joke of yours—"

"It's true!" He gasps out, eyes blown wide with terror. His words are undeniably sincere though, even as he instinctively reaches up with both hands to claw at the grip currently holding him captive. "I-I'm telling the truth!"

He doesn't even manage to scratch the skin and distantly, Byakuya feels a twinge of pity towards the boy for trying.

"S-She's b-been sick for over a m-month now and at first it d-didn't seem so b-b-bad but she's only been getting worse and K-Kuchiki-fukutaicho says she's gonna be okay only…only her reiatsu's c-constantly depleted these days and yesterday Iemura-san had t-to carry her in 'cause her stomach hurt so bad and she was crying and none of us knew what to do or how to help and—" Byakuya drops him as if burned and flash-steps away, leaving the sobbing boy to collapse against the wall. He can't bring himself to feel any guilt though, because there's a nauseating, hollow feeling spreading from the center of his chest that's consuming all rational thought. He'd thought it was odd that Hisana hadn't been at the gates to welcome him back, but this—

Shinigami, as a whole, are not an overly religious group of people. Now, as Byakuya frantically extends his senses, reaching out for the presence that has come to signify home to him, he finds himself praying for the first time in his life.

Byakuya senses her before he sees her and the boy is right, Hisana's spiritual energy is dim, far dimmer than it usually is. At his sudden entrance, she looks up startled, almost dropping the plate she's holding.

"Byakuya! You're back early," Hisana exclaims, looking flustered. "I wasn't expecting you for another hour, I haven't even finished making din—" Her voice trails off as she registers his appearance. "Is something wrong? You're white as a sheet."

When he doesn't answer, she steps forward hesitantly, taking his hands in her own. Byakuya can't help but notice that her hands are freezing, and he feels his grip tighten involuntarily.

"Byakuya, sweetheart, you're scaring me. Talk to me, please," she pleads, stepping closer to him. "Is it Rukia?" Her face pales. "Is she hurt?"

"Rukia's fine," he replies, voice coming out oddly distant, before looking down at her intently. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" She asks, bewildered.

"I was just stopped by one of your subordinates, and—" He begins only to be cut off mid-sentence.

"Ah. Someone told you," Hisana interrupts, realization dawning on her face. A scowl forms on her face. "Honestly, can't anyone here keep a secret? You'd think they'd never heard of patient-healer confidentiality before."

"Yes, someone told me—as they should! Hisana, how long were you planning on keeping this from me?" He demands, fear bleeding into anger.

"I was hardly 'keeping this from you.' You were on a mission, what was I supposed to do?" Hisana asks, frowning at him. "And for your information, I was going to tell you tonight. After dinner." Glancing at the dining room table, Byakuya belatedly registers that it's covered with his favorite dishes, and he feels a sharp pang of remorse. He can't even imagine how terrified she must have been these past few months, how nervous she must have been to break the news to him, and here he is yelling at her instead of offering her any support.

"I'm sorry, Hisana," he apologizes genuinely. "I'm not angry at you, I'm just frustrated at myself. I should have been here, been at your side—" Honestly, what had Unohana been thinking, not informing him about this? Mission or no mission, if he'd known that Hisana needed him, he would have dropped everything and opened a Senkaimon home then and there.

"Hey, you're here now and that's all that matters," Hisana says soothingly, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face.

"Of course. I swear to you Hisana, I'm going to do all I can to make sure you get through this," Byakuya promises earnestly. "What kind of treatment options have you discussed thus far?"

"…treatment options?" Hisana asks, confused.

"We don't have to talk about it now," Byakuya says hurriedly. "I understand if you don't want to. Just tell me what I can do to make this easier on you."

"Um," Hisana says distractedly before shaking her head, clearing the confusion from her face. "Don't worry about it, it's nothing, really—"

"What is it?" He asks softly, reaching out to cradle her face.

"Just…" She hesitates, not quite meeting his eyes. "Some optimism would be appreciated, please. I'm not asking for a lot here, just a smile or something—"

"Of course," Byakuya replies immediately. If she needs him to provide a positive presence in her life, he can do that. He will do that. "You're going to be fine, everything's going to be alright—"

"Not about that!" Hisana cries out, frustration warring with sudden, sharp disappointment on her face. "Will you stop focusing on me for a second here? For god's sake, of course there are going to be risks! I knew that and I accepted them, and…and I thought you did too, but apparently not because all you and everyone else can focus on is the bad stuff! I don't care about stupid stuff like the nausea or the occasional fainting spell or not being able to eat ramen! Okay fine, some sympathy is nice, but I thought that you would at least be a little happy about this!"

"Happy?" Byakuya repeats in disbelief. "How could I possibly be happy about you being sick? About possibly losing you?" At that, Hisana falters.

"Wait, what?" She asks, blinking.

"And I…I don't know what you want from me here," he continues agitatedly, ignoring her. "I'm trying to be strong, to be supportive, but you…do you have any idea how it feels, when it seems like every time I turn around, you're getting poisoned or getting caught in a training accident or…or stumbling home half-dead after yet another mission gone dreadfully wrong? And now you're sick enough that you have the entire Fourth scared about your wellbeing, and this is somehow worse than all the other times you've been in danger because I…I don't know what to expect and I can't fight this and I can't lose you, Hisana, I just can't—"

"Byakuya, Byakuya, calm down. Breathe," Hisana instructs, taking his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. "Now, you're going to have to help me out here, because I have no idea what's going on. What in the world are you talking about?"

"One of the healers…one of the healers in the Fourth stopped me just as I got back from my mission and told me that you've been sick, that you've been getting weaker and that…that you might not survive—"

"Oh my god," Hisana interrupts, realization dawning on her face. Releasing him, she steps back and pinches the bridge of her nose with one hand. "Byakuya, you don't have to worry. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're not?" He asks hopefully. "You're going to be okay, then?"

"More than okay," she confirms. Glancing at him, she takes a deep breath before continuing. "Byakuya, I'm not sick. I'm pregnant."

There's a long silence.

"...come again?" Byakuya asks dumbly.

"I'm pregnant," she repeats, offering him a tentative smile. "With child. Knocked up. Carrying your baby—"

Shaking himself out of his stupor, he reaches out to grip her by the shoulders, shock bleeding into something he can only describe as wonder. "You…you are serious?"

"Yes I am," Hisana says, laughing a little now. Her eyes are wet and Byakuya doesn't need a mirror to know that his are as well. "You're going to be a father, Byakuya."

"I—" He chokes on his words, voice heavy with emotion. Kneeling down so that he's eye level with her stomach, he reaches out before hesitating. "May I—?"

"Of course," Hisana says softly, pressing his hands against her stomach. She hasn't started to show, not yet, but Byakuya imagines he can almost feel where the baby's heartbeat is.

"We're going to have a baby," he whispers, feeling awed and more than a little giddy. "We're going to be parents."

"Now there's the reaction I was looking for," she teases warmly. "You had me really worried for a while there…" Her voice trails off, causing Byakuya to look at her worriedly.

"What is it?"

"I'm a little concerned about the fact that the division responsible for all things medically-related mistook the signs of pregnancy for the symptoms of some mysterious, life-threatening illness," she admits. "Although this explains so much. You know, two days ago I asked Isane to bring me some tea and she knocked over three healers, elbowed two others, and nearly scalded herself in her haste to get it to me? It is very sweet of them to be so concerned about my wellbeing, though." With a sigh, she glances towards the door. "I suppose I should head over there to reassure them, make a formal announcement or something. They're probably still freaking out."

"Mm. Do you have to go now, though?" Byakuya murmurs, pressing a light kiss against her stomach. He tilts his head up to look at her meaningfully and smiles at the pretty pink blush spreading rapidly across her cheekbones. "I've missed you so."

"I, uh—" She clears her throat, voice coming out noticeably higher than normal. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to leave an hour or so later—"

"Two," he interrupts smoothly, feeling a rush of satisfaction as her cheeks darken even further in response. "You're going to want to make that two hours, love."

"Someone's feeling ambitious tonight," Hisana laughs breathily as Byakuya slides his hands up to her waist, pulling her close. "Very well, two it is then—"

This, of course, is the exact moment Rukia comes crashing through the window, hair a mess and eyes frantic.

"Nee-chan, you're dying?!"

Chapter Text

For a long moment, all Gin can do is stare incredulously. Finally, he speaks up.

"Alright, that's it. I'm takin' ya to the Fourth."

His companion has the gall to look slightly amused.

"I assure you, Ichimaru-san, that I am of perfectly sound mind and body right now," Hisana states over a cup of sake.

"You're drunk," he says flatly. Granted, she's only had one cup so far and he knows from experience that she has an impressive alcohol tolerance for someone barely 90 pounds, but there are exceptions to every rule. Hisana shrugs.

"I made my decision before I started drinking. This is just to help ensure I don't back out."

"Ya find me intimidating, Hisana-chan?" Gin can't resist asking.

"It's scientifically proven that people look better when the observer is slightly intoxicated. Even you, Ichimaru-san," Hisana replies without missing a beat.

"Mm." His smile turns slightly sharp. "I don't suppose all this has anything ta do with the fact that Kuchiki Byakuya just got engaged, does it? Nice girl; rich, beautiful—a noble, of course. I hear his family is overjoyed."

Hisana doesn't flinch—no, her reactions are far too controlled for that—but her breathing hitches for the briefest fraction of a second before she regains her composure.

"Of course not. I am very happy for him," she says, in the tone of someone who's repeated those words over and over again in the hopes that it might make them come true.

"You can be happy for someone and sad for yourself at the same time, ya know," he says, tilting his head to the side.

Hisana glances away in reply, almost visibly withdrawing before his eyes as she downs the last of her sake and stands up from the table.

"I see that this isn't something that you are amenable to. Very well, I'll see if I can find someone else—"

Faster than she can register, he reaches up and grasps her wrist, freezing her in place.

"Sit down," he orders, voice hard. At her startled wince, he realizes that he's squeezing her wrist tightly enough to bruise and quickly releases his hold, motioning for her to take a seat.

"Sit down," he repeats, gentling his tone. "I didn't say I wasn't going to agree."

"But you—"

"You want to feel wanted, right?" He interrupts, looking at her knowingly. "Needed, desired…that's why ya came ta me tonight."

"And do you?" Hisana asks quietly, glancing up at him through her eyelashes. "Want me, that is."

He opens his eyes fully, taking her in. There's something strikingly vulnerable in her right now—in her words, her tone, her posture.

"I'd be a fool not to," he says, and it comes out more honestly than he'd intended.

He's never been able to resist vulnerability, something he knows Hisana is well aware of. After all, she's the same way.

A flicker of relief flashes across her face before she manages to hide it behind a cheeky smile.

"So," she winks at him. "Your place or mine?"

"If both your eyes close, it's called blinking, not winking," he says mildly.

"Oh, shut up," Hisana scowls.

"Also, I don't warrant a better pick-up line? That one's so overused," he continues, amused.

"I've already convinced you to sleep with me; I don't need to get creative," Hisana points out.

"I dunno, Hisana-chan, my feelings might be too wounded to continue—"

"Are you going to be like this all night?" She asks, exasperated.

"'All night'? My, my, somebody sure is eager," he smirks at her. Hisana simply shakes her head in reply.

"Seriously, isn't there any way to shut you up?"

"Well, normally I wouldn't consent to bein' gagged on the first date but with you, I might just make an exception—"

"Don't tempt me."

*insert long sex scene here*

"I look like I've been mauled," Hisana says, clicking her tongue in annoyance as she glances down at her body. "What is it with you and biting?"

"I didn't hear ya complainin' five minutes ago," Gin replies, and he doesn't even try to keep the smugness out of his tone. "Then again, I doubt ya were in a state ta really notice much, given that you were in the process of coming on my cock for the fifth t–"

A pillow comes flying at his face, cutting the rest of his sentence off.

"I was there, you don't need to remind me," Hisana hisses, her face tomato-red.

"Oh come on, don't be embarrassed," Gin coos, openly smirking now. "Tell me, was it good for you? How would you rate my performance? Would you recommend to a friend?"

"This was a mistake," Hisana mutters to herself, covering her face with her hands.

"Probably. But you enjoyed yourself, didn't ya?" He asks, smiling crookedly. Hisana lets out a startled laugh, and looks down at her hands.

"Yes. Yes, I did." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "You know, it feels weird to say this because it's us, but–" A flicker of movement in the corner of the room catches their attention, and Hisana frowns as a hell butterfly flutters over to her.

"That's Byakuya's," she murmurs, stiffening. "I should go, it might be urgent–"

"Still at Kuchiki's beck and call, I see," Gin says, abruptly annoyed.

"He's my best friend; of course I'm going to be there for him if he needs me," Hisana answers distractedly, yanking on her shihakusho with one hand and using healing kido to erase all signs of their earlier…activities with the other. In any other situation, he might have appreciated that kind of efficiency.

"Oh and before I forget, we need to meet up at some point to organize that joint presentation at the Academy next month. And don't worry, I'll send a couple new recruits over later today to repair the garden wall by the Fifth's barracks," she adds, slipping her shoes on. "I think that's everything? Ah well, if I forgot something, I'll just send over a hell butterfly to you later–"

"What were ya going ta say earlier? Before we were interrupted," Gin cuts in, voice coming out a little sharper than intended.

"Ah." Hisana pauses in the middle of tying her hair up into a bun. "I suppose I just wanted to say that you made me feel better. About myself, I mean." She takes a deep breath. "I wasn't…I don't know what I was expecting, but…last night, I was in a state of mind where I would have let you do almost anything to me," she says finally, words ringing with a kind of quiet sincerity. "Thank you for not taking advantage of that."

"Anytime," he says after a pause, his earlier spike of irritation fading. Winking at her, he leers, "Believe me, it was a pleasure."

Hisana rolls her eyes, shoving at him lightly before heading out the door.

"If your eyes are squinted shut to begin with, it doesn't count as winking either!" She calls out over her shoulder.

Shaking his head, Gin crosses his arms behind his head and leans back, a content smile on his lips.

Maybe he'll head over to the Fourth later today, he decides. Granted, it was a bit early to begin working on that presentation but…well, there was nothing wrong with getting a head start for once.

*Roughly one month later*

Tenshi no Tsubasa blinks once, slowly, the expression on her face confirming just how screwed Hisana is at this moment.

"Well then. I suppose congratulations are in order," she says tonelessly, voice carefully neutral. In response Hisana lets out a strangled sound, not sure whether she wants to laugh or cry.

"Years," she says wildly. "Decades, even. That's how long it takes most people, and that's with assisting medication. For this to occur by natural means, by complete accident, on the first try is almost unheard of!"

"And yet, it makes sense, in a twisted way. It's a little similar to achieving shikai right? After all, that's supposed to be something that takes years of hard work, and yet both of you achieved it in near-record time," Tenshi says tightly.

Hisana briefly debates banging her head against a tree until she knocks herself out and achieves blissful unconsciousness.

"That's spiritual prowess! This is biology!" She wails, covering her face with her hands.

There's a long moment of silence, during which both of them contemplate just how fucked up her life is right now.

"What are you going to do?" Tenshi asks, voice subdued.

"First of all, I'm going to try to eat something, because I'm starving and I haven't kept anything down all day. And then…" She hesitates, her hands falling to her abdomen. It's early enough that she can make this all just…go away. She has the skill to do it herself– no one would even need to know.

But then, she already knows that that isn't an option for her.

"Then, I'm going to go straight to Unohana-taicho and request a prolonged vacation," Hisana finishes, peering down at her stomach.

"Troublesome. Just like your father," she whispers.

One thing was for certain, though. This definitely changed things.

Chapter Text

"Sensei, she's back."

There's no need for Hisana to ask who 'she' is. Even if her assistant's pale, terrified face hadn't given the fact away, the overwhelming reiatsu pulsating from the front door would have. With an exasperated sigh, she marches over.

"What was it this time?" she asks irritably, not bothering with politeness. As far as she was concerned, Unohana Yachiru didn't deserve politeness. Politeness was reserved for those who didn't stop by every two weeks to leave piles of near-corpses at her door. "They bumped into you on the street? They had punchable faces?"

"They claimed they were strong fighters," Unohana replies before giving her an amused smile. "Although, yes. I guess you could say they did have… 'punchable' faces." Hisana sighs, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"There is such a thing as self-restraint, you know," she says, even as she bends down to inspect the two men in the process of bleeding out at her feet.

"I did exercise self-restraint. I didn't kill them, did I?" At Hisana's continued silence, Unohana goes still. "You're upset with me. Why? Is it because I didn't wait outside? I know how you hate cleaning up bloodstains."

"It's nothing. Just…don't worry about it," Hisana says as she concludes her diagnostic scan. Patient one had four broken ribs, a cracked collarbone, a concussion, and a broken nose. Patient two had a cracked sternum, a dislocated shoulder, and was bleeding sluggishly from a laceration in his side. She quickly stops the bleeding before motioning to a few nearby aides to carry off her newest patients.

Glancing at Unohana's blood-splattered clothes, Hisana bites her lip.

"You are not hurt?" She inquires. Unohana laughs, softly.

"After all this time, you still feel the need to ask that question?"

"I'll always ask," Hisana replies. "You are my friend."

"Even so, it is kind of you to worry. You really are a gentle soul, aren't you?" Unohana murmurs.

"I must be, to put up with you," Hisana says wryly. She looks towards where Unohana's latest victims were carried off. "Doesn't it get boring? Those men…they stood no chance against you. They had barely a hundredth of your spiritual energy."

"And yet, even they had more than most. It's becoming increasingly difficult, finding opponents with enough spiritual energy that they aren't immediately crushed like a bug the moment I stop suppressing mine," Unohana admits. "Sometimes I feel like I've fought them all already."

"Wait, what about me? You've never challenged me," Hisana points out, looking suddenly offended.

"You?" Unohana presses a hand to her lips in a futile attempt to suppress her smile. "Hisana, physical combat is hardly your strong point."

"Maybe not, but I could do a better job than them, at least!" Hisana says indignantly, motioning towards where Unfortunate Unohana Victim #1 and Unfortunate Unohana Victim #2 are now being tended to.

"You forget, my dear, that I already challenged you to a fight," Unohana says, lips twitching.

"What? No, you didn't. When?" Hisana asks, wringing her hands distressingly.

"Our first meeting. Don't you remember? I let you have the first attack– held myself wide open and you took it as an opportunity to run a diagnostic scan on me, of all the ridiculous things. And then you had the gall to tell me to stop wasting your time if I wasn't injured, because you had actual patients with actual wounds to tend to," Unohana says, growing steadily more amused at the sight of Hisana's now tomato-red face.

"I, um." Hisana takes a moment to clear her throat. "Sorry about that. In my defense, I was just starting out in my practice and you were covered in blood. Normally when people come to me covered in blood, it means that they're dying." She pauses. "But why didn't you ever try to clear up the misunderstanding? That was years ago!"

"I confess, I found myself quite charmed. It'd been a long time since I've been lectured," Unohana says, a glint in her eyes. "And afterwards…well, I decided I found your company more valuable than whatever fight you could grant me."

This time, Hisana finds herself blushing for an entirely different reason.

"Stay," she blurts out. At Unohana's raised eyebrows, she finds herself blushing deeper. "I mean, I can teach you how to heal. So, uh, you don't have to worry about your opponents dying on you too soon. And…in return, you can teach me how to fight? I can't promise I'll be the most interesting opponent but I'm a pretty quick learner and–"

"If you want me to stay, Hisana, you can just ask. You don't need to provide a reason," Unohana says with a slight smile. "Knowing you want me around is enough."

"If you want to visit, Yachiru, you can just come by. You don't need to drop half-dead men at my doorstep all the time. Having you around is enough," Hisana retorts snarkily before promptly slapping both hands over her mouth. She turns to look at Unohana with wide eyes. "Um…ignore that, please–"

Unohana cuts her off with a laugh, shaking her head.

"You really are something, aren't you," she says fondly. "I hope you never change, Hisana."

"I'm glad you think that way," Hisana says distractedly. "Now can we please get you out of those clothes–"

Unohana raises an eyebrow.

"– not like that! Because they're filthy and– would you stop looking me like that? Because they're covered in blood and– you know what, forget it. You can just stay in them all week for all I care–"

"I don't see why you're getting so flustered, Hisana. I would happily undress for you any time you like," Unohana says serenely.

"…I regret this already."