It was raining. The rain still made her nervous, even after years of living in the very safe, very sheltering expanse of the ancestral Kuchiki home. She would wake wanting light and a blanket, wary of creeping things trying to escape the wet and the cold. Not here of course. No rat or insect had polluted the main halls of the Kuchiki estate in decades. None would dare. But in the straggling, dirt-floored shacks of the slums in Rukongai the pitter-patter of rain outside would be matched by a pitter-patter of legs within. The memory of unseen things crawling across her skin in the dark could still make Rukia shudder, years after the fact.

Ironically, the rain itself could cleanse the sensation. With a hundred droplets drumming her skin there was no room for an unwelcome tactile memory. She liked the way, too, that it closed the world down until she was the only thing in it. All the politics, all the change, all the cold and jealous eyes disappeared behind that shimmering curtain. And of course it was silly to feel lonely when you were the only person in the world.

Tonight she could believe she was the only one even before she stepped into the rain. No servants stirred, no lights shone, there was no evidence anywhere that more than ghosts lived here. Ghosts and Rukia the pretend Kuchiki.

She slipped down the hallway like a ghost would, soft and silent, zanpakuto in hand because it was part of her, not because she expected to use it. She carried a blanket, too, so that when she came back in, dripping and shivering, she would leave no trail behind her. No evidence that a living being had walked that cold and sterile hall. The blanket would warm her and comfort her, help her remember that she was in fact not one of the ghosts. Not yet.

She laid her blanket on the floor behind an ornate curtain and pulled the window before her silently open. Every part of the estate was immaculately maintained; the Kuchiki pride would accept no less. But she kept this particular window extra well oiled, for nights like this one. It was in a secluded hallway, not far from her room, and it opened on a garden enclosed by tall hedges. The perfect spot for someone who did not want to be seen or disturbed.

Rukia sat on the sill and swung her bare feet out. The night was as dark and cold as the house, but it felt alive in a way the house did not, had not in the entire time she'd lived there. Little gusts of wind swirled, branches dipped and swayed, and everywhere the rain hurled itself at the black earth. If she stretched her legs as far as they would go she could just wiggle her toes in the dripping fringe where rivulets ran from the roof. Water trailed over her feet and up the backs of her calves, and she knew when she hopped down from the window she left invisible wet footprints on the stone walkway. She left the window open behind her.

The rain drove at her in a frenzy as she left the shelter of the roof and inched her way across the wet grass. She closed her eyes and felt each drop hit her, imagined the dizzying feeling of looking up into a sky that was nothing but gray clouds so close she could taste them and streaking silver that seemed to fall through miles and miles of empty space. She let that feeling fade slowly into the conviction that the world existed exactly as far as she could sense it through the downpour. The universe was six feet wide, and she was the center of it…

Someone else was there.

It had happened before that ghosts had followed her into the garden. Kaien-sama found her there from time to time, and once in a while she would see her old friends from Inuzuri. In the few weeks since her brother had disclosed the identity of his lost wife, Hisana had made an appearance as well. Hopes, memories, regrets… but none of those things had a living presence, a reiatsu. Tonight's guest did not reside in her head.

Rukia followed the faint pressure, moving two delicate steps to the edge of the lawn. The prickly, towering bulk of the hedge, usually such a protection to her, blocked her view and left her feeling anxious and vulnerable. She knew who it was, of course; even with his energy shielded and hidden away as it was now. But what was he doing? It would be embarrassing if he found her here, alone in the dark and the rain.

She ducked as she passed under the stream of water from the roof and onto the sheltered walkway. Rukia peered cautiously around the edge of the hedge.

Nii-sama.

Byakuya's white captain's haori was barely visible, a splotch of gray in the darkness. It hung straight, heavy with rain, ignoring the impertinent weather as completely as its wearer did. Her brother's back was to her, his face turned to the sky and his unbound hair a smudge across the top of the haori. No kenseikan, no scarf. Whatever his purpose here, he came as a man and a warrior, not as the head of the Kuchiki clan.

Rukia pulled her own reiatsu tighter, grateful for the shelter of the darkness and the storm. She retreated silently to her window. She was safe. He hadn't noticed her.

But she had noticed him.

It was unthinkable that the stoic, unflappable Byakuya would want her near. He didn't seem to enjoy anyone's company under any circumstances, and to seek out the garden in conditions like this… He had not come to be found, any more than she had. She should go in, return to bed, leave him alone. After all, he hadn't seemed distressed in any way. He was simply standing in the rain.

What could she offer him if he did have need of consolation?

She reached through the window and grabbed her blanket, her mind racing ahead of her body to the sanctuary of her room. She would light a lamp, change into dry clothes. She would...

She would think of Byakuya, standing alone in the garden.

She shook the blanket out and pulled it around her. The night wasn't cold, but the rain had her shivering. She stood for a moment, wavering, and then Rukia made up her mind.

She crept soundlessly back to the hedge.

She could not approach him. It would be too awkward and too intrusive. But she could not leave him, either. She sat on the walkway, as far away as she could without losing sight of him. She pulled her legs under the blanket and made sure that her reiatsu was hidden as thoroughly as she could manage. She laid Sode no Shirayuki on the stone beside her. She rested her chin on her knees.

Rukia waited.

It was no more than half an hour, although it felt much longer. Byakuya never looked toward her, never made a sound. He stood, and when he was finished standing he turned and walked away from her, into the house. Rukia washed her icy feet in the waterfall from the roof, resettled her damp blanket, reclaimed her sword, and slipped back through the window. She still felt invisible, ghostly, as she padded down the hall, but for some reason she felt that she belonged.

As she changed into dry pajamas she noticed her own wet footprints, glistening in the lamp light. She pictured them extending from the window, a trail down the hall, and smiled. This was her home, after all; it was reasonable that she leave the mark of her passage every now and again.

She turned off the light and let the rain send her back to sleep.

*****

In the morning, as she left for work, she was stopped by a spot of color on the floor just outside her door.

Hydrangeas from the garden, still glistening with rain.

Her footprints had long since dried; there was no note, and no trace of another living being ever walking down that hallway. Kuchiki Rukia stood in the empty corridor, cradling the delicate blooms.

"You're welcome, nii-sama," she whispered. Only silence answered, but she did not feel alone.