As requested in my new pool, a new chapter! Thank you for those voting! And commenting, of course! :)

I am unhappy with the result of this chapter, to be honest, hopefully it is not bad enough to be a hindrance to your enjoyment, though. Unfortunately I do not have a beta for this story (any volunteers?) so you'll have to bear with my errors a bit until I notice them...

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The abnormal warmth continued during that week, putting the whole Seireitei in a lazy, grumpy mood. If anyone would have noticed a certain captain's tired state, they would surely accredit it to the heat that was not letting anyone sleep. They would not be entirely wrong in this.

One thing did not go unnoticed, though. While Abarai Renji secretly wished his captain would join the general indolence that had befallen upon them, it was clear the heat was reason for a severe case of surlier-than-usual mood instead.

#####

Those warm days passed quickly, so quickly and hot and gloomy and busy that if the Kuchiki siblings were not so normally dedicated to their shinigami duties, the household would start to wonder if they were avoiding each other. The corridors and walls of the Kuchiki mansion were even emptier than usual, like an unspoken pact.

It was better that way, Byakuya thought at first. The less he saw her, the easier it would be, especially with things still so fresh and shaken. Living with her was becoming increasingly painful, and if he could not trust his own actions in the recent past or his treacherous heart that would take new life at the mere thought of her, now he also needed to erase whatever she could have imagined from their last encounter under the sakura trees. Yes, avoidance was the best solution for his current predicament, and he would ensure it with his actions, if he could not do it in his thoughts.

However, as the days passed, Byakuya noticed he did not need to so purposefully avoid her – Rukia could never be found anywhere around their rooms and would not show up for their meals on the right schedule either – in fact the only time they met was in the dining room when, after a few days, he got up earlier than usual, intending to avoid her, and found her already dressed in her shinigami uniform, heading the same way. At their meeting, she avoided his eyes and immediately mentioned she was not hungry and would go straight to her division, heading to the opposite direction.

In the days that followed, he observed she had not once showed up on his division, not even to see his lieutenant, nor could she be found in company of her captain, or on the streets of Seireitei or anywhere in the Kuchiki estate, even if he could still feel it when he searched for her reiatsu emanating from the other side of his wall at night. And in that Wednesday night, when he finally attended dinner at the usual time, the candlelight would make only one shadow at the wall, and the empty plates and glasses in front of him bothered Kuchiki Byakuya more than he would like to admit.

The emptiness of the house, that in the past had been so comforting for him, had once again started to feel unbearable, haunting him with those ghosts long forgotten in his heart that had reawakened with that fatidic mistake. Because it was exactly when she was nowhere, that she was everywhere. And it felt like he needed her to breathe.

And after two more days of steps that barely meet, and nights tortured by memories of her, he found himself searching for her reiatsu on the Kuchiki grounds that afternoon.

#####

There was not a hint of blue in the sky – instead, it showed a cadency of colors that varied from icy white to the darkest, slate-like grey that inevitably reminded her of eyes she was trying to forget.

The girl walked aimlessly through the gardens, letting herself be taken by the strong wind that mercilessly carried the heat away, announcing a storm that would probably fall before she got back to the house. She did not care.

#####

It did not take him long to find what he was searching for. She was not trying to conceal it, her reiatsu pulsing, screaming - a perfect reflection of the stormy wind surronding them. Following it, he easily spotted her, sitting not far from where they had met in their previous time there. His garden. He approached her slowly, making no effort to hide his presence either, but if she saw him, she made no indication, her eyes fixed on the greyish skies. Byakuya duly noted it felt comforting to see her again.

Scrutinizing her face, he found a delicate tinge of redness in her nose and eyes that indicated recent tears. Concern rose in his chest and he wished he could inquire about it, but he knew that questioning would simply damage the already feeble barrier that he had reconstructed between them and that would not do.

"Rukia, why are you here?" was the only question he allowed himself, and his tone deliberately sounded more like admonishment than concern.

"I…" she started to answer, but a single and big raindrop fell on her cheek, silencing her for a moment. She looked absentmindedly at the dark sky in response, and a gush of wind hit her face, her violet eyes falling on him again.

"It is nothing, nii-sama. I… just like the gardens," she lied, her eyes resting in the beautiful landscape around them. The strong wind would play with their clothes and shake their hair in contemptuous disregard for the tension between the pair.

The sky decided to imitate the girl with sporadic big raindrops that caught their attention. It was clear that in a few seconds a heavy thunderstorm would descend upon them. She looked at him and Byakuya couldn't quite decipher what exactly seemed different in those pools of purple.

"We should go inside," he suggested, but he made no move to denote intention of following his own advice.

"We should," she agreed, but kept staring deeply into his eyes, frozen in place.

A thunder echoed, calling their attention to the skies, but there was another grayness that seemed to get Rukia's attention more intensely. The raindrops were now a proper rain, starting to wet them, but the couple simply stood there, ignoring it despite their previous words.

"Rukia-"

"Please-"

They spoke at the same time, and stopped at the same time, still staring at each other, silence reigning for a while. She was the one who broke the eye contact, contemplating the rain falling over the trees.

"Does it bother nii-sama," she asked very slowly, very softly, almost in a whisper, without looking at him - "that I like the cherry blossoms?"

The second meaning of her words did not go unnoticed.

The cold wind blew strongly, raindrops falling over her trembling lips.

The rain had started to pour intensely upon them, hitting them almost painfully, causing shivers, awakening senses. He noticed she was shaking, perhaps because of the coldness, perhaps for other reasons. Her hair was becoming a mess of wet strands, her light yukata getting transparent, her eyes getting even more transparent, if her words were not enough.

Byakuya walked a few short steps, closing the distance between them. He stopped in front of her, their height difference becoming more evident. Pulling her face to him, he looked deeply into her eyes before answering:

"It does not. And therein lies the problem."

And then he kissed her. Or rather, they kissed. And behind those tied lips, there was secluded combustion, hidden fire, pain and relief. It was almost unfair that a single kiss could not portray the shattered hearts, that it had to encompass all those days of absence, all those nights of imagination, wonder and pain. To compensate for fifty years, for a whole life.

It was still contained, refrained, uncertain at first. The first kiss for her, he couldn't avoid the thought. It was almost refreshing, if it wasn't so full of guilt.

Again, she accepted it, like he knew she would. She was trembling and he pulled her to his embrace, warming her up. And he almost wished he did not feel so alive, that it did not make him so complete and happy to have her in his arms like this - and only like this.

Because he knew he did not deserve such happiness, not with Hisana and not with her, and it would only break him to taste it again. But he found out he could not stop it if his life depended on it. Because it felt like the opposite, like a survival instinct, to let his heart and his body feel and live again.

As this instinct took over, he concentrated on the kiss and nothing else, he breathed her essence and gave her his. The kiss started to get deeper, frantic, breathtaking. Hands would search for the other, pulling closer and closer in disguised desperation, finding only wet clothes to hold on. It was not close enough.

The coldness was no longer a problem, though. And yet, the storm was so intense that the wind could almost carry them, the raindrops falling with such violence that it was slightly painful, but it did not matter.

In perhaps a lasting sense of propriety, Rukia felt him pulling her into his arms bride-style and shunpoing to her bedroom, whose door was still opened, before she could even notice what happened.

What she did notice was him delicately putting her on her bed and resuming the kiss as he started to open her obi with skillful but reluctant fingers. Fingers that knew what they were doing but decided to do it anyways. These same fingers reached for the soaked kimono covering her shoulder, her arms, which were then being covered with his lips instead. She started to do the same in that dance of discovery, and when they were finally completely free of the inconvenient wet clothing and she could feel his skin on hers she decided that it was the best shelter she could ever hope for.

And for a moment, they were not who they were, he was not Kuchiki Byakuya and she was not Kuchiki Rukia… they were just themselves, male and female, man and woman, a couple that loved each other, that desired each other and it was perfect and simple as it should be.

And in their moment of abandon, both hearts just wished that was all they ever were.

#####

For some hours they slept entangled in each other's arms, and Rukia was unaware of his inner struggle as he once again had to remove himself from her embrace, where he wished he could stay for as long as the days he had.

He moved in a familiar direction in the dark, his heart heavy.

As he approached the table, however, he was surprised by a voice coming from behind him:

"If you do that…

…I will never forgive you."

"What?" He asked almost inaudibly, turning a bit.

"I mean it. If you do that again... if you remove yourself from my life and pretend this did not happen, I will never forgive you. If you never let us find out what this is or could be, I will never forgive you! Whether I remember or not, it will be forever in my heart and I want you to know that I will never forgive you!"

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And that is all for now. Hope you enjoyed it, please R&R.

Wynn