Hello, it's December Chocolat~

It's been a while since I've updated this story. I have taken down the previous chapters and considered deleting the story but decided against it. I will try to begin this story anew and hopefully you will see that my writing skills have (somewhat) improved.

Please bear with me once more. This story finally has a stable direction and I plan on writing chapter 2 this weekend.

I'm so sorry for the wait, and I will always be grateful for the readers who were kind enough to support me and this nightmare of a story.

If you don't like the changes, that's fine. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. This story begins when Hitsugaya and Rukia are in their orginal positions as captain of the tenth division and lieutenant of the thirteenth. I'll build on from there. This story has a hell of a long way to go, so please stick around! I have not lost faith in this story, and neither should you.

Here we go again :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Chapter 1:

He remembered seeing an awful lot of blood on the ground as he walked through a graveyard of fallen corpses of hollow and shinigami alike. Blood seeped through his white socks and left a crimson trail as he stumbled aimlessly through a human city he had never particularly cared for. For the first time in his life, he allowed his feet to lead him somewhere, anywhere but this city drowning in blood. Perhaps this was what being dead truly felt like: hollow and apathetic.

He halted in his tracks when he felt something crumble underfoot. Ice. It wasn't his; his zanpakutou produced blue ice. The frozen shards littered on the red ground looked like glass. A shinigami with an ice-type zanpakutou like his had fought here. It must have been one hell of a battle, judging by the apartment buildings that had been sliced in half and the massive debris that piled on the decimated streets.

He watched as crimson liquid dropped onto the ice shards around him, one globule at a time. The white ice did not turn red as he had expected it to, nor did it melt. How peculiar. He would search for the owner of such a puzzling zanpakutou, granted that he survive to return to the Soul Society.

"Hitsugaya-taichou?"

That voice. He knew that voice. He lifted his head and drowned in a pair of violet eyes, rimmed with dark lashes so long they could brush against his cheeks if the owner leaned any closer.

As abruptly as the violet eyes had come into view, they briefly disappeared as the person in front of him turned around and called for Unohana-taichou. He felt disoriented when the striking violet focused on him again.

"You've been injured, sir." The girl with the peculiar eyes said. His fingers tentatively touched his left temple, where she was staring at, before examining his hands. Blood coated the tips of his fingers and trailed down his palm. He had sustained a head injury, and would require Unohana's healing immediately. He urged his body to move, but his legs did not obey. His body felt heavy and foreign, like a gigai that did not quite fit.

An arm linked around his and tugged him forwards. He stumbled after the girl who had found him, his vision blurring with each staggering step he took. By the time she stopped, his arm had been tossed over her shoulders. He wondered if this was a wise decision, letting such a tiny girl carry the bulk of his weight.

"Unohana-taichou, I've brought Hitsugaya-taichou!"

The girl's soft hands curled around his forearms firmly as he fell onto a soft surface. A cot, he supposed.

"Unohana-taichou will be with you shortly, sir."

Through his hazy vision, he saw the girl's smile of determination. He watched as the girl whirled around to help a fourth division nurse carry a limp body. Her retreating profile was the last sight he saw as his eyelids shut from sheer exhaustion.

"Thank you…Kuchiki."

…

Several months had gone by since the war, Kuchiki Rukia noticed one day as she glanced outside the window of the office she shared with her captain. She had been distracted from her reports from the rambunctious hooting she heard outside. A mob of officers, most likely from the eleventh division, lumbered past the thirteenth division barracks with jugs in their hands, spilling sake all over the ground and themselves. Spring had arrived, Rukia could tell. The palest blossoms were tentatively peeking out from their buds, contrastingly sharply against the dark branches of trees in their division garden.

"Kyoraku must be drinking on the roof again." Ukitake Jushiro said, shaking his head in mild disapproval.

In reply, Rukia let out a small laugh. "Ise-san must have a hard time, dealing with a captain who's MIA half of the time and drunk the rest."

"You must have a tough time yourself." Ukitake's vaguely melancholic gaze settled on the girl sitting at the desk across from him. Stacks of paper covered every inch of her desk, with plenty more on the floor of her half of the room while there were none on his half.

"Why would you think that, sir?" Rukia asked, her eyes wide. "You don't drink sake, do you?"

Before she could launch into her infamous sermon about how sake was detrimental to the liver (she had recited it many, many times to Matsumoto, Renji, Kira and Hisagi), Ukitake erupted into a coughing fit. Rukia stood, as if to walk over to her captain's desk and hit him on the back, but Ukitake gestured for her to sit with a wave of his hand.

"I'm fine." Ukitake said in a raspy voice, once his coughs had subsided.

"I'll make tea." Rukia offered.

Ukitake watched as Rukia balanced precariously on the tips of her toes to reach the tea leaf jars stored at the back of the cupboards. He was impressed by her ease and steady movements. When she had first served him tea several years ago, she had been overwhelmed by the sheer variety of tea leaf jars stored in the cupboards; now she knew the names and the uses of each kind of tea leaf.

"It's also time for your medicine, sir." Rukia said as she handed him a packet of pills along with a steaming cup of herbal tea. "I asked Unohana-taichou to increase the dosage because your coughing fits have been becoming more frequent. She requested that you drop by at the fourth division for another routine checkup."

This, he thought as he sipped his tea, was the reason why he chose Rukia as his second-in-command. Her attention to detail, meticulous organization and efficiency was what kept his division united and functioning in his absence.

The captain and his lieutenant lapsed into a comfortable silence, the captain sipping his tea thoughtfully while the lieutenant resumed writing reports to be submitted to the 1st division by the end of the day.

Kyoraku had mentioned several times what a lucky bastard Ukitake was to have such a pretty second-in-command, much to Nanao's fury. Ukitake had silently nodded his agreement; Kuchiki Rukia was very pretty. She always had been, although when she was younger she had been called "cute" more often because of her clumsy behavior. She still was adorable, but no one said it aloud for fear that the lieutenant would take the compliment the wrong way and see it as an insult to her height, an issue she was still incredibly sensitive about. As far as Ukitake knew, Rukia still visited the fourth division once a month for checkups and vitamins that Unohana claimed "could potentially aid vertical development".

"I can lend a hand." Ukitake said.

Rukia glanced up from her paperwork and shook her head firmly. "I can handle the paperwork by myself, sir. You should rest."

"Since I've come to the office, I might as well lend a helping hand." Ukitake smiled as he gestured to the piles of paper on the floor. "I didn't know that the amount of paperwork had increased so much."

"They aren't ours, sir." Rukia confessed, her fingers touching her neck. A habit, Ukitake noticed. "They're from the third division."

"How did the third division papers end up here?"

Rukia bit her lower lip. "I offered to assist Kira-fukutaichou with his paperwork."

Ukitake resisted the urge to sigh. "Why?"

"His division has been suffering because of Ichimaru-taichou's death." Rukia said quietly, rubbing her nape of her neck awkwardly. "I'm not good at comforting people, so I thought I'd help with paperwork instead."

Rukia avoided her captain's eyes as she dipped her brush in ink and continued writing on the paper. She could feel the weight of his look of disapproval. He disliked it when she spread herself too thin, adding another division's workload on top of her own, but she hated the feeling of helplessness when she saw Kira-fukutaichou in his dim, empty office that he had once shared with his captain.

Ukitake let out a soft sigh; at least he knew why Rukia had been sleeping in the office instead of going home to the Kuchiki mansion. He had seen the dark shadows under her vibrant eyes, a pale grey that blended quite well with her pale skin but would only darken if her exhausting work ethic continued at such a ceaseless pace.

"When are you going to find the time to train?" Ukitake asked in an admonishing tone.

"I've been meaning to, sir." Rukia let out a soft exhale. Clerical work and managing a rambunctious and disorganized division on her own took up most of her time. The few hours she had to herself at the end of the day were used up by sleep.

"I don't see your zanpakutou around these days."

"I don't see the need to have my zanpakutou with me," Rukia said with forced cheerfulness. "If there is ever an intruder in the barracks, I'm sure Kiyone-san and Sentaro-san will manage."

To be frank, Rukia had been avoiding her zanpakutou. Ever since the war had ended, Sode no Shirayuki had been speaking in a cryptic manner that frightened and irritated her. She feared for her zanpakutou's mental state and wondered if Shirayuki was losing it.

"Well, if I'm not needed her, I might as well pay the Head Captain a visit." Ukitake rose to his feet.

"How is he, sir?"

Ukitake's white eyebrows were knit together in a concerned frown. "Unohana-taichou informed me that he had recovered from his injuries, but he refuses to grant an audience with any of us."

"He's a recluse now?"

"For the time being." Ukitake smiled at his lieutenant. "I'll be back before you know it."

….

"Taichou~"

Hitsugaya Toshiro sighed when he heard the all-too-familiar voice, not bothering to look up from his paperwork. He had sensed his lieutenant's reiatsu minutes ago and had internally cringed when he felt it invade his division barracks, barreling straight towards his office.

Seconds later, the door to his office slid open to reveal Matsumoto, tipsy as usual and exuding the stench of sake. She wasn't alone; she had an arm slung around another person's neck. A member of the twelfth division, he assumed, judging by the lab coat and lopsided glasses. Why Matsumoto had brought a shinigami who wasn't even in their division was a mystery he did not want to delve in.

"Taichou!" Matsumoto waved clumsily at him, stumbling into his office and dragging the overwhelmed twelfth division member along with her. "Did you miss me?"

"Matsumoto-fukutaichou—" The shinigami protested, trying in vain to disentangle himself from the lieutenant's iron grip. He was promptly ignored.

"Matsumoto." The beginnings of a migraine began to throb in his head, induced by the alcoholic he had chosen to be his second-in-command, a decision he regretted every day.

"I brought a friend!" Matsumoto grinned cheekily at him.

"Wonderful." Hitsugaya muttered under his breath, setting his brush down. It wasn't often that Kurotsuchi Mayuri, captain of the twelfth, sent a subordinate to his barracks. He ignored his lieutenant's nonsensical ramblings and turned to face the guest. "What does Kurotsuchi want?"

The shinigami flushed and looked down at his sandal-clad feet. "K-Kurotsuchi-taichou didn't send me, sir."

"Then why are you here?" Hitsugaya asked. After a second of contemplation, his eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me that Matsumoto forced you to—"

"No, sir, she didn't." The shinigami said frantically, waving his hands. "I was heading to the tenth division barracks, and I just happened to meet her on the way."

"What brings you here then?"

The shinigami bowed, his posture so rigid that it formed a perfect 90o angle. "Thank you very much for saving my life, Hitsugaya-taichou!"

The captain raised an eyebrow. "Did I?"

"Yes, sir." The shinigami straightened. "I was in the Human World after the war in a research unit to collect reiatsu particles. A hollow disrupted our investigation and it cornered me into a building. I would've died, but you appeared and killed your hollow with your reiatsu."

"I don't remember." Hitsugaya frowned.

"You were bleeding." The shinigami recalled. "I was trying to bring you to Unohana-taichou's station, but your reiatsu froze me to the ground and you continued to walk."

"Then I don't deserve your gratitude." Hitsugaya picked his brush up to resume completing his tedious paperwork. "I wasn't in control of my reiatsu."

"Nevertheless, I thank you." the shinigami bowed once more. "If you ever need technical assistance, please pay a visit to the twelfth division."

"I'll escort you back to your division!" Matsumoto flung herself up from the couch. "I have to visit Nemu anyway."

Before Hitsugaya could freeze her to the couch, Matsumoto grabbed the shinigami by the arm and whisked him out of the office.

"Matsumoto." He growled, his reiatsu sparking in irritation.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning against his chair. He'd saved so many lives during the war without even trying to, yet he couldn't save the one he wanted to: Hinamori. A girl he had sworn to protect and ended up stabbing. The irony haunted him to no end.

He appreciated the shinigami who had mustered the courage to thank him, but was frustrated by his unclear post-war memories. Whenever he closed his eyes to remember, startlingly vivid fireworks, always dark violet, exploded under his eyelids. The color of Kuchiki Rukia's eyes. He hadn't thanked the lieutenant of the thirteenth division for saving his life that day.

"Might as well do it today." He straightened his haori as he stood.

He needed to visit the thirteenth division.

….

"I thought you had the reports!"

"Why would I? Aren't you the one who does the paperwork while I assist Ukitake-taichou?"

"You do not!"

"I do too!"

"The lieutenant's going to kill you!"

"Me? You're the one who lost the papers in the first place!"

Hitsugaya sighed as he approached Ukitake's infamous third seats: Kotetsu Kiyone and Kotsubaki Sentaro. Why Ukitake had appointed such an incompatible duo was beyond him.

"You don't care for Kuchiki-fukutaichou's well-being at all!" Kiyone shouted, gripping her colleague by the front of his robes.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sentaro yelled, pointing an accusing finger at his fellow third seat. "My loyalties lie with the lieutenant, and she knows it!"

"Then you wouldn't have lost the papers, idiot!"

"Kotetsu. Kotsubaki."

Both officers jumped in surprise.

"H-Hitsugaya-taichou!" The two third seats yelped, bowing hastily. "What brings you to the thirteenth division, sir?"

"Ukitake-taichou is at the 1st division." Kiyone added. "Shall I take a message for him?"

"I'm not looking for Ukitake." Hitsugaya said irritably. "I'm looking for your lieutenant."

"Oh." Kiyone rubbed her neck awkwardly. "She's not to be disturbed-"

"I'm sure she can spare a few minutes for a captain." Hitsugaya said coolly. The temperature of the usually warm barracks dropped a few degrees, and the sudden chill loomed over the two third seats like a threat.

"O-of course, sir." Sentaro forced a laugh, pulling Kiyone out of the way. "Kuchiki-fukutaichou's office is on the top floor, the very last office. Shall I escort you there?"

"No need."

Hitsugaya was gone, leaving a slight chill in the air. Sentaro and Kiyone released the breath they hadn't known they had been holding.

"He's scary." Kiyone shuddered. "Almost as scary as Kuchiki-taichou."

"Doesn't he remind you of our lieutenant?" Sentaro commented absent-mindedly. "The reiatsu, the atmosphere…."

"How dare you compare our lieutenant to such a cold-hearted person!" Kiyone shouted.

"Shut it, Kotetsu! You're just jealous that Kuchiki-fukutaichou trusts me more than you! And how the hell did you lose those papers anyway?"

….

"Kuchiki."

Hitsugaya stood in front of the shoji doors that led to the lieutenant's office. He allowed his reiatsu to spike to make his presence known, but there was no reply from inside of the office.

"Kuchiki, I'm entering." Hitsugaya said aloud as he slid the door open. Neither the lieutenant nor the captain was inside. There were two desks across from each other. He assumed that the one on the left half of the room as Kuchiki's, because the floor and desk were covered with stacks of paper taller than the ones in his own office. It seemed that Kuchiki had to the paperwork by herself because her captain was never at work, clearly shown by how immaculately tidy and bare his side of the room was.

He noticed ink from a brush was bleeding onto the report Kuchiki had been writing. The writing was nearly unintelligible because of the ink spots, but Hitsugaya could tell that it was about the third division's casualty numbers. Why would Kuchiki be writing a report that was Kira's responsibility?

A breeze tickled his cheek and swept a few papers off of the desk and onto the ground. The window was open. He walked to the window and reached out for the window latch to close it before more papers could be scattered around.

A pair of tiny feet peeking out from beneath black, billowing robes dangled from above. In a blink of an eye a small figure dropped from the edge of the roof onto the windowsill with the stealth of an Onmitsukido member. The dark, chin-length strands. The wooden badge around a thin arm. His eyes widened in recognition.

…..

Rukia often enjoyed sitting on the roof above her office, her feet dangling off the edge of the roof. It was a pastime of hers, climbing out the window and enjoying the fresh air in a relatively high altitude whenever paperwork became too unbearable. The early spring air still retained a biting winter chill but carried a floral scent.

After humming a tune she had heard Ichigo play on his phone, she decided it was time to return to completing paperwork. The thirteenth division's had been finished and she had been the midst of tackling the third division's. She pushed herself off of the tiles, dusted her uniform and leapt off. She gripped the roof ledge and swung herself onto the windowsill. It was a perilous act; if she missed landing on the narrow windowsill, she would fall and break bones.

She breathed a sigh of relief once she was safely crouched on the windowsill. Her relief died when she saw an arm out of the edge of her vision. Yes, that was definitely an arm beside her, reaching out to the window latch. Slowly she raised her head to the owner of the limb.

Please don't be Ukitake-taichou, please!

She stared into teal, a color that was so vivid and so close that she couldn't help but let out a shriek and scoot backwards. Which was a terrible idea because she was crouched on a narrow window ledge. She promptly lost her footing and felt herself topple backwards, to a fall that could've resulted in grievous injuries if it hadn't been for the hands that gripped her forearms and pulled her forwards.

Clumsily she stumbled into the office and collided into wall. Not a wall, she realized once her cheek was pressed against a beating heart. A person.

"You're as light as you seem, Kuchiki."

She raised her head and saw the same teal eyes looking down at her. She saw a flicker of… was that amusement?

"H-Hitsugaya-taichou!" She gasped, disentangling herself from the captain and taking a step back. His fingers dropped from her forearms to her wrists.

"What the hell were you doing on the roof?" He demanded, his voice rough.

"I-I…" Think! "I was taking a break, sir."

He regarded the girl in front of him. Rukia forced herself not to flinch under his heavy gaze. She wondered if he noticed that his fingers were still curled around her wrists. She could feel every callous against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. His fingers were as rough, a sharp contrast from his youthful appearance, but his fingers were surprisingly warm and gentle.

"I suppose we're even then." He said finally, after moments of uncomfortable silence.

Rukia blinked. "I beg your pardon, sir?"

"You saved my life. I saved yours. We're even, Kuchiki."

She had no idea what the captain was saying. "I saved your life?"

She bit her lip, mentally going through her archive of memories. She spent a lot of time at the third, sixth and eighth divisions but rarely ever the tenth. Matsumoto was one of the only people she knew at the tenth division anyway, and they met each other often enough when Rukia carried a drunken Renji home from a bar. She racked her brain and could find no memory of her even speaking to the captain.

"I believe you're mistaken, sir." Rukia said, mulling over her words. "I don't recall—"

"Karakura." He said, cutting her off. "After the war. I was injured, and you somehow managed to find me."

Rukia's eyes widened. "Oh, you mean that? Sir, that hardly counts as saving your life. I happened to find you and brought you to Unohana-taichou. You should be speaking to her, not me."

"How did you find me?" His dark eyes bore into hers.

"Your reiatsu isn't all that hard to track, sir." She replied, glancing away from the intensity of his stare.

She took a step back, freeing herself from his hold, and bowed.

"Thank you for catching me, sir." Rukia managed a slight smile once she straightened. "If there is a time when you need my humble assistance, please come to the thirteenth division."

He stared at her smiling face. Those eyes of hers shone like amethyst and her complexion brightened.

"Is there anything I can help you with, sir?" Rukia was saying as he blinked. "I'm afraid Ukitake-taichou's not here at the moment."

"I wasn't here to see him anyway." Hitsugaya grunted, crossing his arms, his fingers missing the warmth of the girl's skin. He had felt her pulse drumming steadily under his palms, like a butterfly's wings and wondered how such thin arms could wield a zanpakutou. He had heard rumors of Kuchiki's prowess in the battlefield; after all, the girl was known as one of the stronger lieutenants. He had never seen her in battle personally. What was her zanpakutou again?

"Your zanpakutou." Hitsugaya said abruptly.

Rukia blinked owlishly at him. "What about it, sir?"

"It's an ice-type, isn't it?"

"Yes."

He remembered stepping on shards of ice. He had relished the chill the glassy ice had emanated, his only saving grace in a city drowning in the blood of people he failed to protect. It was only fitting that the wielder was the same girl who had saved him, led him to safety, away from the bloodshed and destruction.

"I hope to see it one day." He said in a low voice, so low that Rukia wondered if she had heard him correctly.

The captain turned on his heel and headed to the door.

"Kuchiki." He said before exiting, glancing at her from over his shoulder. "Thank you."

The corners of his lips twitched and the shoji door shut after the captain, leaving a chill in the air as the only proof that he had been in Rukia's office in the first place.

...

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