Thanks to: Anonymous (who doesn't have an account), falconrukichi, DarkFlameInfernal, xwhitemoonx, SuperRukia, PsychoNinjaWolf, Bluesky21543, chuela7795, Molipop595 and zombiegirl22.

I appreciate all of your reviews very much and I'm glad to see I don't disappoint in keeping everyone in character. No, I have not and will NEVER give up on this story. Regrettably, my everyday life comes first, and my stories second. I wish I had more time to devote to this fic, I really do. I'm trying. Please bear with me.

Chapter 4

Present Day

To say that Ichigo was pissed off...was the understatement of the century. Ichigo Kurosaki was livid-—fucking livid.

He'd managed to gather the optimism necessary over the week in hopes that Rukia would come and talk to him so they could hash things out. Unfortunately, she seemed determined to ignore him.

Little did they know, they were both using the same silent-treatment approach, so it was backfiring.

He did almost everything he could think of to get her attention, and them some. Nada.

Now here he sat listening to Keigo babble on about Bad Shield, the movie, which, in his personal opinion, was the cheapest piece of shit he'd ever watch. He swore to Christ, he'd wipe his ass with that before he ever thought the actors were remotely convincing.

Mizuiro, of course, was under the impression that there was something wrong with Ichigo because he kept glancing to the far corner of the room.

Rukia sat there at her desk, legs demurely crossed, palm cradling her chin as she gazed off into distant galaxies beyond imagination. Ichigo was just about to go out of his mind with Keigo's insane and bizzare form of conversation, when he heard the pleasant and utterly life-saving—not that pleasant—beep of the device in her breast pocket.

Rukia fumbled with the phone and flipped it open, not even minding the glances cast at her from the lingering students who were chatting while the others shared lunch.

Having forgotten to pack bento, Rukia just sat there in her chair even when class had been dismissed, without so much as a word to anyone who passed her way.

Ichigo would have offered her some of his own, but he remained obstinant in the thought that she had done it on purpose and was her way of covertly mind-fucking him.

In reality, Rukia had done no such thing. Having been in a hurry that morning so that she wouldn't have to confront him at breakfast, she had bolted from the house and had overlooked the minor detail of brunch. Thus there was one less thing to keep her head and her hands busy.

Luckily, her handy cell phone saved her before she melted under the scrutiny of all the students there in homeroom, who were pondering why Kuchiki wasn't with Kurosaki. Rumor had spread, after all, that they were in a relationship. It was abnormal for them to be too far apart from each other on any day.

Thankful, Rukia praised the Gods and hastened her way out the door faster than you could say "Hollow".

As Keigo and Mizuiro took a momentary pause to observe, Ichigo contemplated whether he should follow her. It was none of his damn business what she did, yet...what if another incident occured like the last? What if he wasn't there for her when she needed him the most?

But then there was always the likelihood he would pursue her, which would end in banter, or her calling him appalling names then laughing at his dismay—or both. At a loss to come to an agreement in his mind, Ichigo just sat there and fidgeted.

Keigo asked him if he was constipated. Ichigo punched him in the face.

Already a block away, Rukia halted and looked down at the screen on her cellular phone. The signal flashed once and vanished.

"Dammit!" she cursed. Someone else had gotten to it before her. Most likely Renji or Ikkaku, or one of the other Soul Reapers that had been posted here in the world of the living.

Even knowing that she didn't have to eradicate the Hollow, Rukia had done it anyway. Why? Was she really that eager to go and fight another Hollow? Maybe it was just a craving to be out in the field again, to buoy herself and discourage these underlining misgivings about being a warrior.

Maybe she just couldn't stand another second in that confounded classroom with everyone breathing down her neck for answers.

It had been about over a couple of hours and despite coaxing from Orihime, she would enlighten no one as to why she had been absent for nearly a week other than to fib about being sick. Everyone but Chad and Uryu, whom she was eternally grateful to, seemed to still want to mangle answers out of her.

The juiciest buzz yet among the humans yet was that Rukia and Ichigo had split, even though it had never been confirmed to begin with that they were in a relationship.

At lunch, Ryo, Chizuru, Michiru, and Mahana had tried to pry, compelling Rukia into the bathroom stalls where she hid until they went elsewhere.

Questions abound, but, alas, no replies. Rukia was a professional at that type of thing; she could bend very far for other people, but it was only to a certain extent. Her acting skills and ability to steer around the truth only got her so far.

The walls she put up to protect herself may have been harder than steel, but they weren't completely invisible to everyone, and to those who saw it, it was a guise to obscure her emotions, which were more transparent than she cared to confess. Her mind and heart, though, were an entirely separate matter. There were things there she would never let anyone see—even Ichigo.

A wistful sigh escaped her.

Deeming it worthless to go back, Rukia decided to go to play hooky a bit and pivoted on her heel, only to collide face-first with another person.

"Ow," said the lackluster voice.

"Ow, yourself," she told him. "What the hell are you doing here?" Ichigo cocked his head to the side, as if thinking. "Well, if I recall correctly, I followed your tiny ass all the way here, and there's no Hollow." Zangetsu, which was slung across his shoulders, caught the sunlight with its unique patina and held it.

"Someone else got it," she said, putting her phone away and turning to walk off.

"Whoa! Hey, wait! Where are you going?" he cried, trotting to catch up with her. Ichigo swung his arm back and put his zanpaku-to away now that it wasn't needed. His zori scuffed against the pavement as they walked, unnatural black shihakusho casting an eerie picture against the warm backdrop of Karakura's skies and buildings.

"I'm going to Urahara's place. I'm in need of supplies. I have no gikongan or somafixer," she told him.

"Wait, you don't have gikongan and you came all this way to fight a Hollow?!" he exclaimed.

Rukia shrank back, hissing at him for being so loud despite the fact that no one could hear him and the streets were relatively empty.

To the naked eye, she was just your average school girl walking home alone. Her skirt fluttered around her slender legs, her button-up accentuating each camber and line. Her eyes caught the glow of the sun, causing the normally indigo depths of her eyes to put accent on the violet flecks there in her irises.

Rukia had taken a much needed shower the day before returning to society, so her tresses were nothing short of silky and shimmered with health.

"We should be going back to school," Ichigo told her. Right now, he was looking anywhere but in the direction of the closest educational facility. Right now, he was staring at Rukia Kuchiki.

"Ichigo, you are entitled to do as such. However, I don't come from your world. I don't think missing a day of school is going to mar my academic record," she said. "Where I come from, I have the highe-Why are you looking at me like that?" Rukia stopped in her verbal tirade when she saw the expression on his face.

"Like what?" he questioned blankly. Above and beyond, the sun was in such a position in the sky that its luminescence cast a collage of colors on the clouds, giving everything an almost fluorescent glow. This glow combined with Rukia standing at such a point gave her an almost ethereal radiance. It was hard not to stare.

"Like that," Rukia said, pointing at him. Ichigo slapped her hand away.

"Tch. As if. Being with you on a daily basis is bad enough. Why would I have any interest in looking at you?" A vein visibly twitched in her neck, and her limbs spasmed.

Rukia lashed out with lightning-fast reflexes, bitch-slapping him so quickly he pirouetted on his heel like some demented ballerina and face-planted violently into the sidewalk.

"Gah, you sadistic-!" Ichigo's expletive was cut short when she kicked him in the gut with such brutality all the oxygen rushed out of his lungs in one foul swoop. The strength and drive behind the action was so unforeseen he nearly let go of the contents of his bladder and pissed all over himself.

"Asshole," she said scathingly, and flounced off. Rukia didn't know what it was about Ichigo that got under her skin. It was just, sometimes he could be such a prick.

Maybe she was a bit harsh on him, but God only knew that that condescending jerk needed a little tough love. That, and maybe the current events between them contributed to her violent behavior as of late.

For all that was holy, was he really so dense? Or maybe it was she who was so incompetent.

Rukia had been forwarned, after all...Could she expect anything less? Nevertheless, for a reason beyond her comprehension, she kept turning a corner in faith that...what?

"What?" A cold, callous finger trailed down her spine like the most icy of waters. It was relentless.

Byakuya continued to gaze at her in an impassive manner, prim hands holding his cup of tea in what could only be described as a decorous fashion. He continued to stand there in the entryway of the rice-paper doors.

Outside, cherry blossom petals shed themselves from their blossoms with the gust of one zephyr, dislodging themselves from the trees and floating down to the ground. An exquisite sight though it was, it only served to be yet another reminder of the forthcoming autumn.

Byakuya didn't so much as blink or show any sort of indication that he was stirred by this.

"There is nothing for you there, Rukia. There is only death," he reiterated, albeit in so many words.