Disclaimer: Standard "Me does not equal Greatness" applies.

Chapter 13

"When you walk away,
I count the steps that you take.
Do you see how much I need you right now?"-Avril Lavigne

By the time they arrived at the party the second time, a lot more people showed up. Half the population of the younger members, in fact, and also one Shunsui Kyoraku, who was too busy harassing a very scandalized Nanao-chan to notice their arrival.

Kiyone, Rukia's sandy haired squadmate, squealed the moment Rukia was ushered through the door. Quickly, she called everyone close to them in a circle around the punchbowl and saved Nanao-chan from an unsightly slobbering. Somehow, someway, Hitsugaya was pushed into the smack dab middle, and was promptly made the subject of conversation.

"Oy, Hitsugaya, better not break this bowl, okay?" Matsumoto found her way to the group and smirked. "We kinda want something to drink this time."

Hinamori, who was standing next to Kira, smiled and cheerily served everyone some punch from the container. "I made it with a special recipe," she added confidently.

Somewhere nearby there was a loud, boisterous laugh, followed by insults.

"Yo Renji! Costume parties aren't supposed to be last minute raids from your taicho's closet!" Ikkaku, a bald man from the eleventh division, pointed a finger at his red-haired friend. By the way his eyes were watering up, Ikkaku certainly found Renji's found Renji's get up extremely funny. Rukia honestly couldn't blame him, although she at least thought her Nii-sama deserved more credit for his outfits.

Renji's face went red with embarrassment and anger. "Shut your trap, baldie!" His finger extended forward, meeting Ikkaku's insult.

" I'm surprised that you, bladie, didn't dress up as a bowling ball or at least a large gob stopper so that Yachiru-chan could have had fun. Inconsiderate."

Kira, of the third division, was garbed in a formal tuxedo and was currently in conversation with Yumichka, who had taken advantage of the situation and donned a slightly feminine kimono. The two were discussing the tailorings of their suits, and Yumichka was earnestly agreeing, nodding and saying, "Yes, quite beautiful," every other second.

Besides the couch, Hitsugaya was fending off potential enemies by standing as close to Hinamori, as was proper, and sending all the males death glares. He failed to see all the hopeful female glances he received along the way.

Oh well, it was his loss. Rukia smiled. Hinamori was in good hands.

Rukia felt at ease here. Sure, all the strobe lights and the loud music were getting to her head, but the fact that her friends, the people that she had known since she could ever remember, were happily surrounding her made Rukia extremely content. She half listened to Kiyone and Sentarou's incessant reports about their division, nodding sporadically, while half listening in to the other's conversations.

Isane made her way over to Rukia and the two embraced with much chatter and delight.

"How's the fourth division work nowadays?" Rukia inquired, quickly spotting a light bag under Isane's eye. "Don't tell me you've been pulling the night shifts again."

Isane laughed, her voice tinkling with laughter. "Oh, it's fine. Same as usual. Recently, the new guy from the Karukura bank incident's been transferred to my ward, and he's been quite the stress case."

Rukia could tell that there was more to this than Isane was letting on, judging by her's merry wink. "Knight in shining armor much?"

"Breathe one word, and I'll make it a point to ransack your room," the silver-haired woman threatened jokingly.

The rest of the night passed in fun and slight craziness…until Matsumoto pulled out the dreaded sake bottles. Only Hinamori and Rukia refused the drink; the others downed at least four bottles each. And, much like clockwork, everyone crashed.

It was now morning, and Rukia and Hinamori tirelessly tore through "the field of carnage", as they called the vast array of their wasted friends and garbage on the floor. The pair did what they could amids the drunken stupor of their friends. They pulled up random blankets to ensure a more restful sleep and confiscated the bottles clutched in unrelenting hands. It was so hard resisting the temptation to plant the occasionally doodle on someone's face...

Hinamori was adjusting the pillow under Hitsugaya's head, but his resistant white hair kept on poking at her hands. She gave up and stuffed a balled up blanket under his head after Rukia helped her hold his head up.

Nearby, Matsumoto was snoring loudly. Rukia never knew how such a beautiful person could emit such an unpleasant, odd noise, but the loud snoring attracted her to the busty woman.

One slender hand was propped against a picture frame above, another was touching the floor along with her leg, as if Matsumoto's unconscious form couldn't make up its mind where to rest. Rukia chuckled and shot Hinamori a glance, making her aware of her of their friend's comical position.

But then, as Rukia tried to push Matsumoto's hand under the covers, a sound escaped the blonde's parted lips. "Gin.…" It was a funny sound--, high and breathy, but full at the same time.

Rukia, startled, stopped and looked at her friend's face. Matsumoto's nose vibrated slightly as another snore floated in the air. Judging by the frantic motion of her eyes under her thin eyelids, the troubling dream was not over.

"Gin? No," shook her head, smiling slightly when she realized Matsumoto's ever-apparent need for alcohol, "No more sake or anything alcohol of the sort for you."

The two petite girls both watched Matusmoto's sightless eyes roaming beneath her lids, and were startled when her hand flew up in the air , frantically, making as if to catch onto something. "…Gin, stay, please…"

There was something odd about this, the raven-haired girl realized. Rukia looked at the fifth division Vice Captain carefully. Her eyes were enlarged, and she had her hand covered infront of her mouth. "Oh, poor Rangiku-san…"

"What's wrong?" Rukia asked her, concerned. It wasn't like Matsumoto or Hinamori to keep things from Rukia. That fact got her more worried. "Do you know what's happening?"

Hinamori met Rukia's eyes and she shook her head. "No, just a dream. But oh, poor poor Rangiku-san! Still thinking about Gin.…"

Rukia frowned. She didn't know what was going on. Gin? A drink? A person? "She never told me anything about this…Gin."

"All in good time," Hinamori assured her. She proceeded in making Matsumoto comfortable while talking to Rukia. "I think it was before our time, when Matsumoto lived in Karakura. Ask her about it when she's ready."

Rukia left her friend's side with her mind full. Matsumoto was always either very open or very introverted. When she got depressed, she tended to get very severely so. With those heavy, tumulus concerns in her mind, Rukia inspected the room. Who else needed taking care of?

Hisagi was surprisingly obedient in his sleep, and so she skipped by him. Renji was a completely different matter. Rukia remembered having thrown a blanket over her friend, but that same blanket was now lying useless under Renji's bulk. She sighed and got another blanket from her room. It was her favorite one, and there were bunnies on the fleece. Renji was going to through a hissy fit when he woke up with the pink thing on him, but he would just have to deal, Rukia reckoned.

As she was about to leave her dorm, it dawned on her that something wasn't…right with Renji. Strange as it was, but it bothered her to pieces that Renji's boxers had monkeys on them. When Rukia recovered from her guffawing attack, she pulled the blankets over him ritually with a soft goodbye.

The rest of her day went by rather smoothly. She hadn't been expected to clean up after the party because of her makeshift nurse work over the night, and she had left considerably early. That is to say, before someone with a hangover could wake up and insist on dutifully spewing out their stomach contents, like they were prone to do every time they woke up.

After sitting at her desk doing her homework for two hours, Rukia stretched and swirled around her chair. She had crept into Byakuya-sama's lavish retreat hours ago without much notice, and she was ready to move.

Grabbing her dance bag, she went to seek permission from her brother to go train for ballet. Disappointing Sode no Shirayuki on the second week of school was not a part of Rukia's agenda, and she needed her own time, away from people, to just think and reflect.

She went to Byakuya-sama's room with caution. Ukitate-taichou had told her that a mission to quench an uprising in the northern region had failed, and that the sixth division captain had been the main director in charge of the movement. She shivered slightly. A silent and brooding Byakuya was more terrifying than the normally reserved version of himself.

She slid the shoji doors open and stepped slowly into the room. It was undeniably colder than the rest of the house, and Rukia doubted that it was the precious papers stored in there that was accustomed to cold.

"Ano, Byakuya nii-sama," she called hesitantly to his back, "I have a request to make."

Byakuya, who had been in the middle of dictating a particularly…difficult matter on an even more difficult issue, paused his strokes and set down his pen without turning to Rukia. "Please state your business. I'm busy currently."

"I see," Rukia shifted to another foot, trying not to be bothered by the unnatural tidiness and the barren quality of her brother's room. "I have the report for Ukitate-taichou here, and I wish for permission to go to the gym grounds."

The clock on the wall ticked time away, and Rukia was beginning to fear that he fell asleep.

Her older brother slowly turned to her and fixed his unflinching gaze onto hers. Her eyes evaluated him and found that a vermilion bandage was bound tightly around his torso. She inhaled sharply, feeling his pain but afraid to express her worry. "Nii-sama, your body—"

He put up his hands. "No matter. Unohana will be in to see me." Rukia slowly tore her eyes from the bandages. "You want me to give this," he held up an open report, visible with her typewriter words, "to Ukitate-taichou and let you go to train ballet." The words came out flat from Byakuya's prim mouth (which hadn't appeared to have moved), and were more of a statement than a question seeking a confirmation.

Rukia almost questioned Byakuya's hearing. That's what she just said! But she couldn't do that. Byakuya had taken her in to the Society, cared for her, and basically thrown her a rope of redemption those years ago, when, according to Byakuya, she had roamed the streets aimlessly. To backtalk someone that she respected and especially someone she absolutely did NOT want to cross was not the brightest idea.

So, she responded with a simple, "Hai."

"I will allow both occasions to occur," he said, though from his uplifted hand Rukia could tell that he was not finished, "though, it is needless to say that I am disappointed in your behavior."

Rukia paled. What did she do wrong this time? Then her heart sank. She knew what was coming, and she dreaded it. It was like having a recurrent nightmare that insisted on replaying its gory scene, time and time again.

"As a Kuchiki, you are not only expected to adhere to Society ways. You are to set an example for the rest of the members. I am not admonishing you for leaving the Society complexes to go to Wilford; that was in part asked of you, in addition to your wanting to attend. Neither have you done anything wrong.--" Yet, his low tone seemed to add. "However, I have must strongly caution you again."

Rukia knew all this. She knew of the honor bestowed upon her when she was chosen to be the Kuchiki heir. She knew her duties, her unvarying obligations as a noble of the Society. She had never once forgotten. However, Byakuya would unfailingly remind her, as if he feared that one day she would snap and do something completely irrational. Rukia never understood why Byakuya kept such a close watch on her. She was staid, she was dependable, and, although Renji was would loath to admit it, she was one of the best young assassins in the Society. The doubt sheathed within her Nii-sama was disheartening. Why did it feel like she couldn't be trusted?

But something else came.

"You must be careful at Wilford. The Twelfth division has predicted a strong inclination that Empties will attack there within the next months. They know that we have sent Death gods to Wilford. That means you."

Rukia was taken aback. No further reprimands from Byakuya…instead, his warning appeared to be his discrete way of relaying classified information to her. "But wasn't I sent there to scout out more Empty activity?"

"You were. There are Empties on campus every single day. We know this from various dispatch signals we've managed to intercept coming from Wilford. However, Mayuri's precious technology isn't advanced enough to pinpoint the location of the sender, nor the contents. We can only haphazard an estimated location…each which is within half a mile of known Empty strongholds."

"I can handle that," Rukia assured, swallowing hard. Empties. In the plural. At Wilford. Her new school…

Well, she hoped she could handle that.

Byakuya shook his head. "That is where you err, Rukia. You cannot always assume that you alone can take care of it. At any moment, if an Empty attacks, you are to alert the Society. It is no inconvenience to us to send out members at 1 one in the morning; it is to lose such a person as yourself." And then, almost imperceptibly: "You are my sister..."

"I will keep that in mind, Nii-sama."

"The most important information I am about to tell you must remain secret. I have to impress this upon you. For your ears only."

"Hai, Nii-sama."

"Roughly six years ago, right before you came to the Society, there were three Ttaichos. They were named Aizen, Gin, and Tousen."

Rukia inhaled sharply at the second name. Why did it sound so familiar?

"They were some of the best Taichos the Society had ever had. One was the most staid and composed that the Society had seen; one was the most cunning, and one was the greatest mastermind. However, what the Society had deemed as virtues in those people quickly turned into vices. They were not content to simply aid the Society in helping the helpless; they mutated into beings that wanted to amass the cruel terror over the people, much like the Empties had done. So, with a cunning plot laid out for two years, they deceived the rest of the Taichos and made plans to learn all the inner workings of the Society, planning to undermine it when they betrayed us."

Byakuya paused and nodded pensively to himself. It was the first time Rukia caught him looking even a bit distraught.

"Where are they now? Did we catch them?" Rukia tottered on the edge of the seat, hoping for an answer different fromt he one she was dreading.

Her brother silently shook his head."By the time that Yamamoto had unearthed their plan, they had already deceived most of the lower guards and some of the other Taichos. However, we managed to…recover. The trivialities will not be recounted here. In any case, we have not yet brought them to vengeance." Byakuya propped himself up slowly despite his wounds and retrieved a small folder from his bookshelf delicately. "Here are their pictures."

It took Rukia a moment to digest. The picture that she was handed was a very old tintype that was already showing its age through the tears on its side. In it, all 13 captains were smiling, each looking utterly composed and regal in their shihakushōs. Kaori, Yamamoto, Mayuri, Soi Fong, Shunsui, Kyoraku, Kenpachi, her Nii-sama, Unohana, Komamura, and four others she could not identify.

The four unknowns did not strike her as especially vile or conniving, save one. The first her eyes landed on had soft brown hair and a gentle complexion. Calm brown eyes shone through a pair of neat glasses. His shihakusho labeled him as the fifth division captain. This was… a traitor?

To his immediate right was a slimmer man that immediately evoked a feeling of trepidation in Rukia. The man had mere slits for eyes, and cold, flat silver hair. An unsettling sneer played at the corner of his lips. The fox-like third division captain stood unnervingly close to the fifth Taicho.

A bit further from them stood yet another Taicho unknown to Rukia. This one stood out from the others because he was uncomfortably resembling someone else Rukia felt she must know. Not being able to put a finger on it, Rukia settled with taking in his physique. Stubble-ridden chin, rebellious hair, and a defiant grin against all of the more composed expressions of the other Taichos. His countenance almost reminded Rukia of Renji's recalcitrant trainee days, and she was compelled to surpress a grin.

The last person was a black man. Rukia couldn't make much of him because he had been sporting a pair of dark sunglasses. He appeared even more frigid than Byakuya, if that was at all possible.

"Which ones were the traitors, Nii-sama?"

"Aizen." The brown haired man.

"Gin." The silver-grin fox.

"Tousen." The black man with dreadlocks.

"Ano, who is that taicho over there?" Rukia inquired, pointing at the unmentioned fourth captain.

"No one that concerns you."

Ah, well. Rukia didn't expect him to tell her anyways. She felt it was already a breach of Society rules that her Nii-sama was warning her of something highly secret. Besides, she had an implicit trust in his judgment, even when he did not repay that faith.

Clearing his throat, Byakuya resumed. "They have since been reassigned the titles of "PE 1, PE 2, and PE 3."

The Public Enemies. Rukia took back her assumption that she had never known of them before. She knew them, alright. The Public Enemies were the bane of the Society's existence. What an ironic circumstance, though, that they once were Taichos of the organization they were trying to overthrow! Besides the wealthiest Empty families, whom the Society were restricted from eliminating (due to the substantial revenues they bring to Karakura and Rukongai, however illegally) the Public Enemies were the most feared Empties of them all. They often worked individually, but on the rare cases they collaborated, their grand schemes usually cost the Society dearly. Their last heist had been the Hōgyoku. In attempting to regain the Hōgyoku , Kaori-taicho had been stripped of all his power; he had received a crippling blow in the lungs, in addition to having to have his left leg amputated due to a planted bomb in his squad car. Kaori-taicho was no fool- to have wounded him beyond recognition was not an easy task.

"I've received word that the three are cooperating on a mission targeted at Wilford. That implicates matters for the Society. Firstly, the majority of students attending are Innocents, according to your report. Secondly, Wilford spans a colossal area. Thirdly, we have no idea what they're after."

The latter statement made Rukia's blood run cold. This was an open-ended operation. Dealing with the three PE's in one go; desperate. Dealing with said PEs when their objective is unknown; suicidal.

"However," Byakuya continued, attempting to be reassuring when he saw worry flit over Rukia's pale features, "fortunately the PEs usually only go for substantial trophies. Antiquities, gold…things that will gain them prestige. It is highly unlikely that they will implicate hostages. Yet…be careful, Rukia. I showed you those pictures for a reason."

"Thank you Nii-sama. I know that you care deeply for my well-being. But, realistically, the most I could manage would be to hold them off for ten minutes…twenty if I had all my Society equi—"

"Rukia. Never try to take them on by yourself. Promise me that." Byakuya cut in sharply.

She sighed. Why was she so easy to read? After years of Society training, she was afraid that it had all gone to waste. The only people that had been able to see through her as clearly as reading an open book were Renji, Byakuya, and Kaien. And now recently, a certain orange haired idiot. (Though she'd insist that it was his dumb luck.)… It was rather aggravating at times, having your plans shot to the ground even before they escaped from your lips.

"Hai, Nii-sama." She thought to herself, "When have I ever disobeyed you?"

"That is all. You've taken a thorough account of Wilford's affairs." He gave her a deep, appreciative nod. "Your Taicho will be pleased."

"Thank you. If that is all, I would not dare intrude upon your presence anymore." Rukia bowed deeply and straightened.

"Rukia."

"Yes?"

Byakuya's stoic face colored. Yes, that's right. The Great Byakuya-sama's face muscles actually possessed the ability to blush.

"When is your next dance competition? I…would like to go."

Caught completely by surprise, Rukia almost lost her ability to speak. "They're random… I think there's one in a month from next Tuesday; that would be the fourth. And then the Niwa regionals two weeks after that, and—"

He cut her off. "Nevermind. I'll just go to whichever one you want me to go to the most."

Rukia could not help but beam at Byakuya's awkward encouragement. When she realized that she had enough of stupidly grinning at her Nii-sama, she bowed down, slung on her jacket, and was out of the Kuchiki grounds in ten seconds flat.

The Society had an old recreational center, complete with an auxiliary gym located in the smack dab middle. Wooden doors swung open to reveal a small, cozy practice area resting completely deserted. Not many members danced, and Rukia was thankful for the peace the familiar studio offered her.

It was here that Yoruichi-sama, an elite dancer in her own right, had first instructed Rukia.

Rukia had bound excitedly to the Fifth Division Captain after the music box find.

"Ballet? No way, kid." Was was the dark woman's initial response. "Find someone else with the time. I'm not about to waste mine with a flimsy wish."

But Rukia hadn't budged, and eventually proved her persistence by almost beating Soi Fong, an extremely devoted captain, at stalking Yoruichi-sama. The tall woman had finally caved in after two weeks's of sleepless nights with Rukia sitting motionlessly on her lawn. That Rukia also held up with a sign that declared "Teach me or else" with obscene goth bunny caricatures did not help matters.

Now, however, it was up to Rukia herself to train. Yoruichi had taught her all that she could and then some, but her constant captain duties and her running out of techniques to teach had restricted further instruction. Most days, Rukia would squeeze time out and practice on the sequences that Yoruichi assigned.

Rukia slipped quickly into her dance clothes, tutu, tights, and ballet shoes. She felt like she was finally in her own skin.

Rukia placed a CD into a player on the wall and set the barre up. After a few quick stretches, and she was ready to go.

A Tchaikovsky piece titled Danse du corps de balletet des nainssailed blissfully through the speakers and Rukia began her dance.

The age-old twirls seemed etched in her mind. After years of performing, all of the positions, impossible body bends, and prances were at her disposal. She leapt freely to the rhythm of the music, letting the dance sweep her every which way. Today, she did not adhere to any sequence; the beauty of the melody simply bewitched her nimble limbs to heed its call. Rukia's elfin frame made her perfectly molded into a poised ballerina, and her agile movements made the impromptu dance seem perfected and effortless.

It was in times like these, in the deserted gym, that Rukia could think, or completely shut off her thoughts. Her mind first wandered to Wilford, and how she must research more on how the Empties sent out signals there. And then, the three elusive PEs. They would be spooking her in the form of every unchecked corner, every menacing shadow.

And then, there was… Ichigo.

In the midst of her brisé, she faltered. He didn't belong anywhere in her thoughts. With a frown, she tried rather futilely to focus on dancing.

…which failed miserably. Somehow, even though she did couldn't immediately recognize the connection, Ichigo reminded her of Kaien. It wasn't simply the exterior appearance. Something more subtle and profound was hidden beneath Ichigo's surface, she grudgingly admitted. Both men were rough around the edges when you first met them, but… there was that promising edge, that steely determination that flashed in their eyes, the eternal promise to a friend. The irony in this last sentiment startled Rukia as a shock of guilt stabbed her insides.

He never broke any promises. Yet Rukia had, however unwillingly, broken him. Godammit, why did humans have to remember the things that hurt the most?

He was running to her through the blinding rain, only a smear of white and black from the distance. And then crimson red slowly asserted itself on Kaien's torso as he crumpled at Rukia's feet.

"Rukia, please."

She remembered being wordless at this point. Her mentor, her most trusted fuku-taicho, was faltering on the ground before her, and her heart had been tearing up into a thousand pieces—

"Please kill me now. I just tried to assassinate your brother."

"Why, Kaien-dono, why?" She was sobbing, clumsily pressing her small, shaking hands to his gaping wounds to try and stop the bleeding in vain. "Don't say such crazy things, Kaien-dono…"

"Rukia," he grabbed her hands unsteadily and pressed something cold and metallic into them. "Don't look at my injuries. Look at me. You're the only one that can save me from hell. Please."

She was shaking her head in silent agony, an unspoken, "no, no…" trembling on her lips. But his pleading, teal eyes beseeched her in a way she could not refuse.

"Kill me, Rukia. It's the only way I can live with myself in the afterlife. Your brother was almost like a father to me when I first joined the Society … I repaid him by making an attempt on his life." Kaien regarded himself with a bitter chuckle laced with self-disgust. "Rukia, this is the last I'll ever ask of you…"

She never could refuse Kaien.

This torrent of feeling drained Rukia of all energy. She faltered again in the middle of her dance and landed painfully on the barre. Yet the fleeting physical pain was nothing compared to the mental torment she'd suffered since that incident a year ago. Kaien was torn from her world…by her very own hands.

Nobody blamed her. But that did not mean she didn't blame herself.

Somehow, the fiery teenager seated unwillingly next to her at Wilford evoked fresh memories of Kaien. The funny, encouraging, and slightly gruff Kaien she had loved and respected contrasted to a plain, rude, disrespectful, and impatient Ichigo.

He was also lingering a bit too much on Rukia's thoughts for her liking. Ichigo was a pain in the ass with no respect at all for personal boundaries. But, he also was incredibly perceptive and empathetic, even though he was repressing the 'demonstrating sympathy' component of the 'empathetic' package. There was something undeniably sincere in Ichigo's voice as he protested in the importance of life over wealth. He was so earnest, so convicted of what he believed in.

He also had the nicest coffee russet eyes…

A confusing, churning emotion bubbled up within Rukia. And why was she even thinking about this dumb Ichigo jerk again? She shook her head, silently condemning what teenage hormones did to a person.

By this time, her musings had whirled her through 12 tracks, the extent of the CD. That was enough dancing for one day. The sky had churned into a restless gray outside, and rain was steadily drumming its beat on the top of the roof. It was time to go.

The intimidating warning Byakuya had issued to her earlier that afternoon seemed unreal and far away: it was all but forgotten. Replacing it were those recurrent, fleeting memories that pained her.

On that day, the rain had been falling just as thickly and unrelentingly. Yet today, unlike her past remembrances of Kaien, persistent bolts of flaming orange appeared at the corners of her vision. For reasons unknown to her, she felt her heart lift imperceptibly at that image, and somehow the pain seemed to lessen.

Thank you guys so flipping much for the reviews -tears- Instead of five, I got forty. ILU!!

That being said, a HUGE, bankai-sized thanks to Goku's Daughter! She helped me beta this ridiculously long chapter with promptness and IchiRuki expertise. Check out her stories...(PS they're much better than mine x333)

And all my returning readers from eons ago... (Joster13, marislily, virtualailee, HyuugaHotness to name a few) I owe you my life.

I'm afraid that there was no IchiRuki banter. But I thought it's time for them to be a little more mature (as I need to grow up sometimes too). A plot is also nice for a story (lol) The next chapter will be Ichigo's POV, and a delightful omake I couldn't fit in this chapter will be tacked on at the end. In two chapters, our two lovelies will be squabbling again!

Love, Jerkess!