Wishing You All Happy Easter! It's been almost a year since my last update. So I'd like to say a big thank you to everyone for the kind messages, well wishes and feedback. And as always, Thank you for reading.

Cover art was drawn by the amazing Ra7matigorti. Unfortunately it had to be cropped. The full version can be found in the edits section of my tumblr.

Contains; Coarse language (profanity), implied violence and gore, suggestive violence of a sexual nature, lime and Character death.

Warning: Will contain at times; coarse language, drug and sexual references (lemons), occasional violence and OOCness. Rated M for suggestive themes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or its Characters.

~ THIRTY-ONE ~

Eye to the ground, Kenpachi followed the scuffle tracks and eventually came to an access tunnel underneath the Onose-Karasu Bridge. Situated outside of Karakura's borders, the network of tunnels made up a Maintenance site for the two Rivers as well as the Railway lines. Very few would need to come here. So this was a sickeningly perfect place for Nnoitra to hide out.

A rusty sign bolted to the concrete wall that read; 'RESTRICTED AREA. KEEP OUT' and a thick iron grate barred the only entrance. But clumps of damp soil stuck to the rim hadn't closed it properly.

Kenpachi almost laughed out loud - Nnoitra was getting sloppy.

He plied the grate open easily with his bare hands, and grinned. He was closing in. He could feel it just as sure as the blood pulsed in his veins. This time Nnoitra's fate wasn't going to be left to a susceptible Senate deep in red tape.

Immediately the overpowering stench of wood, ash, lime and rancid flesh hit his senses as he delved deeper into the tunnel. The scent of death. Fluorescent tubing bracketed on the walls shone pockets of pale light along the concreted ground, highlighting the septic greenish-orange of some chemical waste bleeding on the walls. Maintenance in this section was nonexistent.

Trekking on, his black leather combat boots quietened to a squelch masked even further by the first morning train rumbling overhead. Soon he came to a fork. Unsure. Then gut-wrenching cries of a man being tortured, made the decision for him.

'If your God is kind, die quickly,' Kenpachi spared a thought for the victim. Making a mental note to arrange for two body bags. It didn't occur to him that the poor soul might survive.

Taking out his 24" serrated bowie knife Nozarashi stashed in his leather coat, he marked the left and right tunnel walls and took the center path. Sobs petering out into a series of choked yelps turned to shrieks over the cracking of a whip. Kenpachi didn't have to guess. The Special Forces Agent knew Nnoitra's preferential brand of torture like the back of his hand.

Then it went deathly quiet. Even the cogs of some barbaric contraption he'd heard earlier fell silent.

Kenpachi veered west, passed a door marked; Valve Room; and a maintenance shaft leading up. As indicated by a yellow voltage sign, it went to a fusebox supplying power to this site. The tunnel ended. Squinting into the lower light, he saw the 7'0½" Nnoitra with a blowtorch in his right hand. Past the sadistic Giant, Kenpachi saw the upper half of a man. Strung taut over a wooden gallows, a pulley system similar to a rack used to stretch a body beyond limitation was attached to the frame. Its cogs, showing like the insides of an intricate clock, were slick with machine oil and body fluids.

He felt his stomach roil. This wasn't just torture - This was a prolonged, calculated execution.

"Eh, I came all this way looking for a good fight, and I see a coward."

That got Nnoitra's attention. Turning around to his surprise guest, an insidious smile showed off a gleaming row of ruddy white upper teeth. Decked out in a high-collared white vinyl pantsuit open at the chest and a matching white eyepatch, Nnoitra, along with his Medusa-esque jet black hair looked like a cross between a Vampire Pirate and a retro Rock star.

"Fucking SFA Dog!" Nnoitra sneered, his voice cold and raspy. He'd reached a new level of pissed off at being labelled a 'Coward'. "You're in my Hell now! I'm going to do to you what I've done to your Bitch here, and ram your fucking head up your whore Director's ass!"

Casting a clinical eye at the Hanged man, Kenpachi only saw a mess with an eyepatch. Which meant; Agent or not, this guy put up one hell of a fight. He laughed. His bass-booming roar ripping a metaphorical hole in Nnoitra's pride.

"Blah, blah, blah. Don't care." Kenpachi kept on grinning. Nnoitra had clearly never met the 'force-to-be-reckoned-with' Director Shiba, or else he wouldn't dismiss her so freely. Standing tall in his 90 kgs, 6'7½" skin, he raised his arms to his sides. Nozarashi curved harmlessly inwards. Taunting. "Make this worth my while."

A split second of despair flickered across Nnoitra's face before bloodlust took over, further feeding off Kenpachi's insatiable thirst for combat. He recognized in that moment, they were two sides of the same Damned coin.

"You're dead, Asshole." Frothing at the mouth, Nnoitra threw the blowtorch aside and picked up his prize weapon; Santa Teresa. Uniquely shaped as two large crescent moon blades conjoined back-to-back, its dark silver metal cast an unearthly hue in the rudimentary lighting.

Before Kenpachi could blink, Santa Teresa's cutting edge slashed the air around him, and he heard, rather than felt the leather tear on his left shoulder, drawing first blood. His grin broadened at the sight.

"I'm going to enjoy this."

...

Ichigo's resistance towards the group's new Lexus LX 570 SUV didn't last long past the first mile. Equipped with a state-of-the-art HUB interface and satellite tracking Tōshirō personally designed, field missions would now be ten times easier.

He was even starting to think maybe Byakuya wasn't so bad in the grand scheme of things. Afterall if he didn't trust Rukia to know her own heart, then he was letting her down as a friend. And Ichigo understood the need to protect the ones he cared about. It had been driving him for as long as he could remember... Ever since his mother sacrificed herself to save-

Ichigo glanced at Nel and frowned, trying to shake off the fragmented memory. He couldn't be sure if it was his or not. Or if it was even true. He didn't remember his time before the Institute or Senna and the others. Nothing but a blank screen. A chill ran down his spine. It made him think of Blanks. Those faceless, white Humanoid globs Nirvana had conjured at the Showgrounds.

Frustrated, Ichigo smacked his palm on the steering wheel, making Nel flinch.

"Sorry," He mumbled, scowling to hide his concern. Barely having said three words since they had left Chidoribashi, this version of her riding shotgun was not the energetic optimist he was used to. "Are you okay?"

She blinked absentmindedly at him before answering. Her head throbbed, though she was trying to hide it. "No, I'm scared."

"Scared about what?" Ichigo asked in surprise.

"I'm scared for you, Ashido and Rukia... I want you all to be safe. My friends."

Nel spoke with such eerie calm, it sent that chilly feeling running over him again.

"Nel, you're weirding me out. What's going on?"

"It's him. I can feel him..."

"Him? Who?"

"The man plaguing my dreams. I'm starting to remember bits and pieces- And he was something to me once. Something terrible..." She trailed off as a wave of mental images flooded her mind. Fidgeting with her skull badge, its green-stoned eyes glistened mutely back at her. It held no answers for her either.

Ichigo let out a shaky breath. Ashido had filled them in on Nel's situation and how her amnesia was saving her from a whole world of trouble. But to him, she was the key and possibly his only way of rescuing Senna from the so-called Valley of Screams.

"What do you remember?" He coaxed.

Nel hesitated. Ichigo was starting to think she wasn't going to talk. Finally, "I-I remember-" Her eyes closed. Visualizing. "-We were put in cages with numbers on them. There were ten of us... And the screams. I remember the screaming..."

Warning bells rang in Ichigo's head. But he ignored it. The need to know was too strong.

"Our Creator told us we were miracles, but we were failures. When the bad guys came, eight of us were put to sleep... 'You're dead!' That's what Nnoitra said to me before the lights went out."

Ichigo's hand slipped on the steering wheel in shock. "Nnoitra?! Nel, you remembered his name!"

"Wah, I did!" She said happily, then her excitement deflated like a popped balloon. "Poor child. He always had something to prove..."

"Poor child. Are you kidding me?! The guy is a Monster, who just happens to be out for your blood! Don't forget he attacked Rukia too!" He thundered. Nel, touched by his outburst, simply shook her head. Then a thought occurred to him. "Only eight went into cryo, so who didn't?"

"Ooh, um... I don't know." She shrugged. Unable to put names to the faces of Subject E 1 and Subject E 10 who were allowed to integrate into Society. "I'm a serious Masochist, Ichigo, I'm not afraid to die."

"That's not- Agh, nevermind." His face reddened. He didn't even want to think about why she said that. Their gazes met and held there for what seemed like an eternity. His amber to her cloudy grey. He couldn't say for sure when he started to care, but he did. She was his friend. And like Rukia, his friends were his family. "Nel, you're not going to die. I will protect you. No matter what. Okay?"

The sheer determination radiating off him made her believe him.

"Okay."

"Kurosaki, Odelschwanck, you're nearing the location now..." Tōshirō came through on Comms.

"Got it," Ichigo replied as he slowed the Lexus SUV to a stop at the southern end of the Onose-Karasu Bridge. Ashido was nowhere in sight. Instead, he spotted a black Hummer H2 SUT parked further up. "Can you run a plate match for me? SD-011?"

"Copy that," Tōshirō responded. "...Vehicle is registered to Special Forces Agent Kenpachi Zaraki."

"Great, just what we need," Ichigo grumbled. Despite being cliquey with a few Agents, and Rukia's status as an SFA Field Consultant, their group didn't mix well with the Law.

Meanwhile, Nel was no longer listening. Her head pounding like a double bass drum, consumed by a singularity; 'He's here.'

"I'm picking up a heat signature in your immediate vicinity. Three more in the access tunnels."

"Access tunnels?" Wildly looking around for the place in question, he was left cursing as Nel bolted from the car, leaving the door wide open. "Shit- Wait!"

"-Kurosaki!" Tōshirō called through the line.

"What?!" Ichigo barked in return. Nel was disappearing in a green and white streak.

"The E Subjects in Project Spearhead aren't like us. They're worse. Don't underestimate-"

"-I got it. Thanks." The line went dead. Ichigo clicked off and ran, barely remembering to grab the keys out of the ignition first.

He caught up to Nel just as she reached the Hummer blocking the walkway, its bumper grille inches from the bridge railing. She didn't stop, and went around the beast of a vehicle, passing Ichigo in a mint candy floss-scented haze. Ominously whispering, "Hide and seek."

Ichigo's heartbeat rapidly sped up. He'd seen her eyes had turned to crimson. Which meant she was one scream away from annihilation-mode. Hot on her heels he followed, unaware their movements were being watched behind the Hummer's dark tinted windows. Yachiru poised with a Remington 870 12-gauge shotgun in her small, capable hands.

A sudden awful screech of grinding metal diverted their attention across the two converging Rivers. The day's second train narrowly avoiding derailment due to the unusual spectacle of two burly men duking it out on the tracks. Nel and Ichigo locked eyes on Nnoitra and an unknown male, almost as gargantuan in size.

"Nnoitra..." Her face paling to the color of the white cotton hoodie she wore, the ground threatened to give way amid a rush of painful memories;

Nnoitra tricked her at Hell's Gate with the help of Gemini, who was exiled there, and smashed her skull in, supposedly killing her; She next woke up in The Wandenreich Hotel and tried fleeing to Spain; His brutality forever marked upon her body.

Torn between wanting Nel to walk away and knowing their chances of finding Ashido were greater if they stuck together, Ichigo drew on Rukia's influence in making a decision he hoped he wouldn't regret.

"Come on, let's get to the access tunnels..." Prompting her into moving again.

Tracing Kenpachi's earlier footsteps through the grotty access tunnels, Nel was the first to spot the maintenance shaft, wracked by the funny feeling it would lead her to Nnoitra. She hung back and checked out the Valve Room while Ichigo went directly ahead, stealing away as soon as he was out of sight.

Ichigo, plagued with a sense of urgency, failed to notice she was gone. Eyeing the crescent-shaped indents cleaved in the tunnel walls, that was nothing compared to the Torture Chamber he stepped in to. It reeked. He fought to keep his breakfast down. Then his gaze shifted to a body half-hanging off a crude wooden construct, causing him to nearly slip on a blowtorch lying in a pool of blood. Barely recognizable, it was Ashido, naked and beaten senseless.

"Fuck!" Ichigo rushed over, fell to his knees, and wrestled desperately at a lifeless Ashido's last restraint. "Fuck! Fuck...! NEL?!"

But she wasn't there. He was on his own.

Wrenching Ashido free, the full weight of his body crashed down on Ichigo. Hot to touch. Slumped together in a hematic mess, Ichigo, frantic, felt for a pulse. There was none.

"No. No. Fuck, no..."

Ichigo shook all over. Hot, thick tears streamed down his cheeks and onto Ashido's head resting on his chest. He could've been sleeping. An anger that he'd never felt before rose in him, and he madly brushed at the face of his friend.

"Someone, help me! I don't know what to do... Don't be dead. Don't be dead...!"

His cry became an incessant howl. In his panicked mind, Ashido's image was suddenly replaced with a light-brown haired woman smiling a sad, weak smile up at him. There was something about her.

"You cried then too," She said. "It's alright. I did what any Mother would do. I can die in peace knowing my son, my precious boy, will live on."

Her hand reached up to stroke his face, but mid-way it fell and she died in his arms.

The memory faded...

Ichigo couldn't save his mother Masaki back then. Now he was a biological weapon, and he wasn't going to let Ashido be a sacrifice. Rocking back on his heels, his eyes squeezed shut to focus. All of a sudden he felt a power rise up and surge through him like a sharp blade. His skin glowed golden, and his entire body trembled and dissipated, piece by piece on a cellular level. Converging his life force into transmutable energy. Ichigo plunged his fist into Ashido's chest, sending pulse waves and restarted his heart.

Ashido came back to life in a jerking fit, sucking in lungfuls of air. Intense, agonizing pain seared through his battered body. Blinded, he felt a warmth, but he didn't trust it. Ashido screamed.

Ichigo held him gently, and soothed in his ear. "It's me, Ichigo... It's okay... You're safe..."

Clinging onto Ichigo's voice like a lifeline, Ashido quietened. Until he became calm.

"Holy shit... It worked..." Ichigo rasped. Still buzzing on his power trip. "Just don't die on me again anytime soon..."

"It's a promise," Ashido wheezed in reply.

Then Ichigo half-carried, half-dragged Ashido out of the access tunnel and back onto the Bridge.

They had just made it to the stationary Hummer when its passenger side door burst open and out jumped a blushing, pink cuteness of a girl; Pink hair, dark pink eyes; Even the cross-bone hairpin in her short bob had its charm. But it ended there. Armed with a fierce expression and a shotgun, Ichigo backed away. Until her face lit up in a dazzling smile. All clear.

"Honorary Special Forces Agent Yachiru Kusajishi! Looks like you got roughed up pretty bad Ashi-kun. But don't worry, I'll see you to your wheels," Yachiru prattled off a mile a minute.

"Wait? What-?" A flabbergasted Ichigo began, but Ashido interrupted him.

"-It's alright, Ichigo. Yachiru is one of us."

Ichigo didn't have the heart to point out this gun-toting youngster wasn't one of them per se. A wise choice. The sound of a round being chambered, a lethal reminder she meant business.

"Icchi, move it! Or do you want people to walk by and see Ashi-kun's willy!"

Just like that this girl effectively embarrassed two grown men.

"You let me walk out nude?" Ashido hoarsely whispered in Ichigo's ear.

"Hell, I just saved your life, so quit complaining!" He grumbled, hastily helping Ashido into the backseat of the Lexus and closing the door. Yachiru rounded on him. Apparently not done yet.

"Better go get your other friend now." Yachiru tilted her head to indicate across the River. "If I were you, I'd leave. You don't wanna get in Ken-chan's way."

Wobbly on his feet, Ichigo started running before she even finished her sentence.

...

Kenpachi paused and looked over his shoulder at the figure of a one-woman stampede appearing on the tracks. Her long, green wavy hair flying like a pillar of fire around an impassioned face. Nnoitra took note too, suspending Santa Teresa in mid-air. Annoyance at being toyed-with by Kenpachi, turned into a burning hatred for the one woman whose spirit he could not break. And no matter how many times he abused, raped or tricked her into fighting him, her pacifist ideals remained intact.

"Nelliel, you've crawled back at last!" Nnoitra jeered, glaring at her urban clothing with distaste.

Nel just stood her ground. His words couldn't wound her anymore. "Nnoitra, what is your reason for this? We had the chance to be better. But all you've done is maltreat innocent people."

"Innocent?! Blegh! You're even more fucking pathetic than you used to be... The 3rd Vasto Lorde?! I should've been 3rd!"

"You haven't changed one bit." Shaking her head sadly.

"Eh, touching reunion 'n all, but this fight's mine, so back off," Kenpachi cut in.

Despite feeling like a mouse next to two elephants, she wasn't fazed. "Your eye. He did that?" Kenpachi nodded. "Look at my face. He did this." Indicating a large scar running a jagged line from her forehead to her nose. Then she removed her left glove and raised her hand palm-side up to show the motley burn scars on her peachy skin. "He did this too." Unzipping her white hoodie, she took it off, and let it fall to the rocky ground. Leaving her with a fern green tank top on with her white and viridian plaid checker shorts. Taking a step forward, Kenpachi saw a crude '3' carved onto her back. He laughed a deep rumble in his throat. She'd won the right to even the score.

"Fine, have your vengeance, Lady. Just save me his eye." Having come to terms with his asexuality long ago, Kenpachi was conceding purely out of admiration for her survivalism. And the reward of holding out for a greater fight.

"This will be over soon..." She said quietly, resolute.

Nel stormed the tracks. The rocky ballast quaking under her green skater shoes. Nnoitra looked on, licking his lips. With a mighty heave, he swung Santa Teresa, slashing at air as she jumped up clear of its blade and somersaulted over him. Just as she touched ground, she kicked him in the back.

"You forget...who I am."

Steadying his slide, Nnoitra spun around. Attempting to cleave her. But she dodged. Ducking and weaving each strike of Santa Teresa's cutting edge. Nel, in a show of strength, batted the blade away leaving him wide open to attack. Smacking him with a meaty right hook, Nnoitra tasted leather. His head snapped back. A trickle of blood ran from his split lip.

"I'll make you pay..."

Another kick sent him flying. Steel clanged on steel alloy as he fought to stay on his feet. And lost. Nnoitra's large bulk crash-landed, forming a small crater in the earth.

Kenpachi watching from the sidelines, grinned. This beast of a woman sure could fight.

"...For hurting the ones I care about."

"Bitch! I'll chew you up!" Nnoitra spat a glob of blood on the ground. He wasn't done yet. "Just like I did to your pussy of a boyfriend."

"Ashido?" Shocked, Nel's eyes went wide as saucers. "Where is he?! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"I fucked his pretty ass up good. Ya know, how we used to. He. Died. Squealing." Nnoitra laughed, savoring the devastation washing over his former partner's face.

He closed in. Thick threads of his mutated hair flanked him as he walked. Swept up in her grief, Nel stumbled. One shoe snagging on a railway sleeper. Inches away from being halved into two. Then she dived sideways as Santa Teresa bore down on her, lopping off a lock of her wavy, green mane. Advancing, Nnoitra wrapped a cord of hair around Nel's throat and dragged her to her knees in the lithic dirt. He liked her better submissive at his feet.

"Ain't no salvation for us. Never has been. You'll die a failure, but I'll only get stronger. Stronger than anyone! I'll smash 'em all to pieces!" His voice cracked with fury. One dark grey eye watched as she struggled to breathe. Remorseless.

He would devour all in his path and be the strongest Vasto Lorde. And surpass even the Dollmaker or the wheelchair-bound sissy that made them.

Nel's vision blurred. Her eyes stung. But in the far recesses of her mind she clung to a glimmer of hope - Her friends - A place where she belonged. There was redemption for one such as her. Ashido, Rukia, Ichigo, even Renji had taught her that.

Then she heard her name.

"Nel! NEL!"

It was Ichigo. Calling to her.

Out of bloodshot eyes, she craned her head to see him running headlong towards her and Nnoitra. It also seemed to be raining rocks; Ichigo throwing handfuls of ballast lining the tracks at Nnoitra in a bid to ward him off.

"-The fuck's this shit?!" Sufficiently distracted by the lame attack.

Nel reached out her hand. Then it fell mid-way. Grabbing hold of Nnoitra's right arm, she snapped it like a twig. A flicker of incredulity crossed his jaunty face before he howled; Only she knew that his genetically modified skin was impervious to harm, but his bones, of a normal density, weren't; Her fingers clawed their way around Santa Teresa's hilt, and putting her full weight behind it, she hacked off his hair, cutting all the way to the side of his skull.

Throwing the sword down to land on the pile of shorn hair, she breathed in deeply.

Inhale. Exhale.

Her focused, piercing shriek hit Nnoitra dead on, grounding him. Flaying the skin from his bones in fleshy chunks. He lay face-up, twitching in a smoking pool of his own blood and tissue.

"It's over," She declared, standing over him.

But Nnoitra spiraled into despair. If he were to die, it should be a Warrior's end. Not this.

Nel walked away, then ran, flinging herself at Ichigo and tackling him in a bear hug. She burst into tears. He couldn't make out what she was saying through her sobbing moans. Nor could he breathe. Suffocating in her ample bosom.

"Geh...oof...eee..." Came a garbled plea.

Still in hysterics, she nevertheless let go and peered up at him, her face shining with tears.

"Wah! Ash-" She choked.

"He's okay, I swear."

"You mean it?"

"Yeah," Ichigo reassured her. Nel engulfed him once more, forcing him to pry her off before he was rendered unconscious. "Let's get outta here."

Kenpachi stopped them. "Lady, I'm coming for our match when you've recovered."

"Like hell!" Ichigo protested, though he felt himself shrink under the Agent's eerily calm gaze. Nel put a hand up to silence him, and smiled.

"You're on scary Eyepatch guy. And thank you."

Inclining his head in acknowledgment, Kenpachi simply stared at their retreating backs.

"-It's not over... Not yet..." Nnoitra went unheard.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, clutching his dislocated left arm to his chest. Rock dust stuck to his lacerated skin making it look like he had been dipped in a vat of tar. Limping towards them, and dragging his blade behind him. A third train in the nearby distance drowned out the chink of leaden steel. Then the last ounce of rational thought fled his mind when he saw Nel was leaving with the orange-haired kid. Nnoitra hurled Santa Teresa at the unsuspecting pair. While he still had breath in his body, he'd fight.

Kenpachi caught the sun-sparked metal glare and threw his combat knife, piercing Nnoitra square in his one good eye.

Staggering blind, Nnoitra stumbled over to the wrong side of the tracks, and into the nose of a N700 Shinkansen clocking 260 km/h. His toughened skin didn't stand a chance against the 715 tonne aluminum train. Nor was his pain threshold high enough.

Nnoitra went down screaming.

Ichigo, having pulled Nel to the side for safety, shielded her from the grisly sight. Now it was over.

"Scram," Kenpachi startled Nel and Ichigo into action. It was bad enough he had the unfortunate task of explaining this debacle to Director Shiba, these civilians would only be more paperwork if they stayed.

They didn't have to be told twice. And left.

Wrenching Santa Teresa free from the railway sleeper it was embedded in, Kenpachi hoisted it onto his shoulder. Blade for a blade. Not a bad consolation.

Fate was a cruel Bitch.

Nnoitra knew that now. His vision gone. Mobility nil. His breathing a shallow rasp. Yet he was still alive; He had wanted to die drenched in blood, standing on his feet and fighting with his last breath. This was not the glorious death he craved.

Eight Masked men suddenly appeared. Nnoitra felt their vibrations fan through the crushed husk of his body like a cool breeze. Then there was the arrival of a ninth accompanied by a few bars of a familiar, haunting requiem. Invoking him with dread.

"Fuck you..." Hissing, Nnoitra could have gone another lifetime without hearing that vile melody.

"Oh, you don't like it? I thought it quite appropriate considering the circumstances. Then again, what would a depraved, misogynistic cretin like you truly know about Music?" A voice as equally haunting berated him.

"Come closer and-" Nnoitra didn't finish his sentence as a skeletal hand quickly sewed his lips shut, muffling cries of desperation.

"Hush. We've played this game long enough." Footsteps began to fade away. Striking up the chorus once more. "Bring me his head. There are four of us left, and I would like to know who the culprits are."

"Yes, Dollmaker." The Eight chorused.

They swiftly severed Nnoitra's head from his body and disappeared.

Born in Despair. He died the same way.

"Senator Kuchiki," Rukia said cordially. Silently thankful for her few lessons in etiquette. "I would like to say that I have heard much about you, but I'm afraid I haven't."

Not one to be easily impressed, Senator Kuchiki responded with a curt smile. "Direct. I like that."

Breaking the awkward tension, Byakuya's cellphone beeped from an incoming text message. It was from Kaien, informing him that Kukaku had called for an Emergency Meeting with all of those in the Central Core Team. Rukia's consultancy status excluded her.

A second text message read; 'Seijōtōkyorin and Matsukura was a bust'.

Byakuya's expression cooled. Preemptively dreading the fallback.

At the same time Chōjirō Sasakibe, Senator Kuchiki's trusted advisor, entered the private hospital room. A mute statue, his presence nevertheless reminding the Senator had veered off-schedule long enough. She gave Sasakibe a slight nod to say that she understood.

"You will have to excuse me. I have Agency matters to attend to," Byakuya stated.

"You haven't even been discharged yet." Rukia frowned. Barely out of Senzaikyū Asylum in one piece and already back on duty? She didn't like it. She liked the Kuchiki's virtually identical stare even less, as if she had just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

"A mere triviality," Senator Kuchiki said dismissively. Rukia kept her tongue in check - They even spoke alike. Turning to face Byakuya gathering his briefcase, the Senator's grey eyes shone with a maternal affection that was wasted on him. "I must leave as well. Consider my words, Byakuya, please."

"Perhaps." Came his noncommittal reply. Then they bid each other goodbye with a bow. Addressing Rukia, he was slightly less succinct. "There is a car waiting for you downstairs. I shall see you later this evening."

Simply nodding, she knew better than to question him in the presence of his Aunt, and bowed. He looked down at her, the corners of his mouth curving upwards. She was a quick-study.

Coming up alongside her, Senator Kuchiki wasn't about to let this opportunity pass. "Rukia, walk with me."

Led by Byakuya, they walked procession file down the corridor. Half of the Security detail flanked them on both sides. Giving Rukia a glimpse of times to come. As soon as Byakuya had left, Senator Kuchiki got right to the point.

"I do not doubt your sincerity, Rukia. My nephew is of the highest calibre in a Suitor. He is on the cusp of a great legacy handed down to him by his father, my brother. But it is because of that, you should ask yourself; Are you truly capable of standing beside him?"

Rukia listened to the Senator's words, trying her best to shake how she made Byakuya's life sound like the clincher of a business deal.

The two women entered the adjacent elevator. Sasakibe standing dutifully behind his Mistress. Perfectly poised, with his slick silver-grey hair and black handlebar mustache. And his pupil-less gold eyes always watching, never telling.

"If the Council could-?" Rukia started.

"-Could what?! Pander to the whims of Youth?" Her harsh tone cut like a knife. The infamous Kuchiki glare dominating her regal features. Then she sighed, allowing Rukia to see the woman underneath the Politician's mask. "Even if I were to give you my blessing, there are two other Council Elders you must seek approval from. And I assure you, I am not convinced."

Staring at the level numbers as they descended, Rukia thought hard. She had known the Kuchiki's would be their biggest obstacle - Just not how much. No guns or swords could win this fight. It was going to take something different entirely.

Then it dawned on her - Senator Kuchiki was giving her a slim chance. To prove herself.

"With all due respect, Senator, have you ever been in love? So much that you would lay your life down for that person? And that you would crush the world if it dared to hurt that love? That's what it's like for me with Byakuya-sama." Rukia breathed in deep, pausing to gauge the Senator's reaction. There wasn't one. But she was still listening. "I have loved him since we were children. He meant everything to me then. As he does now."

Lift doors opened up to the clean and brightness of Seireitei Hospital's ground floor. Staff, Nurses, Patients and Visitors alike busied themselves in a sort of chaotic order. Amongst the crowd near the entrance, Rukia quickly spotted a sign with the name; Kuchiki; in bold print. The person holding it was none other than Byakuya's Butler. Rukia's insides leapt at the kind of 'rescue'.

Still, Senator Kuchiki remained silent. She didn't move either. Her car was situated in the Hospital's private underground carpark. So Rukia bowed, and left the Senator stewing on her words. Dinner tomorrow night was going to be interesting.

Curled up in a swivel chair in the Medical bay, Isane didn't realize she had dozed off until a beeping alert woke her. She rubbed at tired grey eyes and peered hazily at the console. One of the cryogenic tubes was showing a fluctuation in the temperature reading. Odd. But it always paid to check.

Stifling a yawn on the back of her hand, it didn't dawn on her until she reached Shūhei's tube; His was the wrong one. Isane swayed on her feet and her hands shook. The extensive use of her abilities that morning had exhausted her so much, she temporarily forgot what she had done.

"Isane, are you okay? You're as pale as a ghost." Rukia said from behind.

Startled, Isane spun around, clutching the tube for support. "Y-Yes... I'll be fine after some rest."

"Alright," Rukia replied, but the look of guilt didn't disappear. "I heard what happened to Ashido. Is he here?"

"Yes, he's in the Examination room. And I'm sure he would be happy to see you."

"I wouldn't count on it," Rukia mumbled to herself. If she hadn't abandoned him on the Bridge and hijacked his car, Nnoitra wouldn't have caught and tortured him.

As she turned away, Isane spoke up quietly, "We all do things to save the ones we care about. Some brave. Some unspeakable. There's no way to know the consequences until it hits us in the face."

Rukia nodded and tried to smile. Somewhat comforted by Isane's wise words.

Isane watched her go, then looked back at Shūhei suspended in cryostasis, awaiting the miracle Dr Soma could provide. Noting with a touch of sadness that she was too. A silent tear spilled down her cheek. There was still time to back out before Yoshino woke up, but Isane knew she wouldn't.

She just hoped they would forgive her in the end...

...

Rukia rapped on the door and waited. Holding her breath at the shuffling sounds coming from the other side. The fact that she was nervous was putting it mildly. She didn't even think she should be here. Hadn't she caused enough trouble?

Then the door opened. Ashido, looking a damn sight better than she'd have imagined given Ichigo's recount, just stood there in an unbuttoned shirt and slacks. Rukia half expected him to slam the door in her face, vowing never to speak to her again. But he didn't. Instead, he stood aside to let her in and closed the door. Avoiding eye contact all the way back to the bed.

"I'm so sorry," She whispered.

"What for? You didn't do this." His words sounded so empty. And she saw the brokenness etched in his silver eyes. The tremble of his mouth and hands. His physical wounds were gone. Leaving emotional ones behind.

She knew, because she had been the same way without Byakuya.

"I left you behind. It was so stupid of me. I didn't-"

"-Rukia, stop," Ashido interrupted her. "It's not your fault, or anybody else's..."

He looked at her then. His hands were shaking so badly, he lost the fight with his shirt buttons.

"May I?" Rukia asked gently. With his nodded approval, she did it for him, barely managing to see through the build up of unshed tears. Ridiculous. What right did she have to weep? "Please tell me you don't think it's your fault either."

"No, I don't, but..." Answering honestly, Ashido made the mistake of closing his eyes. Flashes of memory ran rampant - The assault. The humiliation. He had been violated in every way possible. Now he had to live with it. And he didn't know if he could.

Studying her in silence, Ashido was overcome with shame. She had no clue how beautiful she was. Inside and out. Breaking out in a cold sweat, he realized that he should have told her sooner.

"Rukia, our meeting wasn't a coincidence. I was sent to retrieve you. And then when I failed, a kill order went out... So you see, I'm the one who should be sorry."

Rukia shook her head. Placing her ear to his chest, she closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic beating of his heart. Trust was still there. "Why did you fail?"

"Because I- I..." He choked.

"It's because you're not like Them. It's the same reason why you saved me at the Pier. And why you were willing to sacrifice your life for Nel," Rukia spoke for him. "You may think you can't, but you can survive this. You're not alone. We're right here beside you. Don't ever forget that. Just promise me, you won't give up."

"I promise I'll try," Ashido pledged.

"Good enough."

The dam burst. Locked in an embrace, Ashido and Rukia softly wept for everything they had gone through, and suffered. For the loves. And the losses.

Byakuya pulled into the parking ramp at Chidoribashi, and left the engine running. Irate after the day's events, it only got worse when his passenger raised up on her haunches and proceeded to clean herself. He had nearly forgotten the bundle of fur was even there. Each scrape of her tongue reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard.

"Must you do that in my car?" He said in his withered tone. Already mentally arranging to have the interior steam cleaned - Twice.

Yoruichi flashed her golden eyes at her fellow colleague, undeterred. "I could do a lot worse, and you know it."

"I will throw you out the window if you dare."

Right on cue, Rukia bounded into view. Decked out in a purple button-up jacket over a cerise skirt and matching ankle boots, Byakuya felt his mood lift at the sight of her. He was impressed too. She wasn't giving him a single clue as to where or what was planned for their date.

"Kindly move," Byakuya instructed Yoruichi to get out of the passenger seat.

She graciously obliged - He hadn't specified where - And jumped up onto the dashboard, flicking her black tail along the windscreen. Just as Rukia got in. Caught off guard, it took a moment before she recognized the feline fearsome enough to take on Gin.

"Oh! Yoruichi?" Rukia snuck a glance at a tight-lipped Byakuya. He drove off. The inertia forcing Yoruichi to topple onto Rukia's lap. She started stroking Yoruichi's fur. Much to his chagrin, who sighed audibly. "I didn't get the chance to thank you before, so thank you."

"You're welcome anytime," Yoruichi stopped purring long enough to reply.

Then Rukia became baffled. She had naturally assumed she would be spending the night with Byakuya. Alone. "Um, so, what am I missing?"

Yoruichi got in first. "Well, since our partners are out of commission, Ku has teamed us up for the time being-"

"-As absurd as it is unnecessary-" Byakuya interjected.

"-And...we've been ordered to stay in pairs for our protection."

"Okay that makes sense," Rukia admitted, now worried. Emergency meetings were one thing - This sounded downright serious. Glaring at her fiancée, she wished he wasn't so adverse to teaming up with others. Not when safety was involved. "And you call me stubborn."

"With good reason." He glared back.

"Why don't you both admit you're just as bad as each other?" Yoruichi quipped. Getting comfy, she curled up into a tight ball to take a catnap until she was dropped off.

Rukia's cheeks colored. When exactly had she turned into a pet cushion?

Then a giggle coming from the backseat caused another stir. Rangiku, materializing out of the plush leather upholstery, hadn't made it ten minutes without blowing her cover. Wholeheartedly in agreement. "So called it."

"Not you too..." Rukia mumbled under her breath, and shrunk in her seat. She would have laughed at Byakuya's abhorred expression if it was funny. Which it wasn't. Looking a little embarrassed, she explained, "I had no idea that Miss Stowaway was back there, but we've been experiencing a surge in activity ourselves. And because of what happened to Ashido, I guess caution isn't a bad thing."

"You left out the part about your hiney being prime target No.1," Rangiku added with a flourish.

"Did you have to put it like that?" Rukia blushed even harder. Suddenly feeling as if this car was overcrowded. "It's not like it's a new thing."

Eyes on the road, Byakuya drove on in stony silence. Unappeased.

Meanwhile, Yoruichi brought Rukia up to speed on Agency news; They had suffered two fatalities that morning. Agent Momo Hinamori dying of a stab wound in the Matsukura Hospital incident. And Agent Kensei Muguruma had been brutally killed by an unknown assailant while out on his morning jog. His headless body discovered in Tsubakidai Park; Agents Kisuke Urahara and Nozomi Kujō replacing them in the Central Core Team.

Amidst the peril, the Senate was now questioning The Special Forces Agency's usefulness, as well as Kukaku Shiba's directorship; The mysterious escape of the prolific Criminal, Hollow, being the biggest black mark against them.

Chatter died down to a strange graveness. Yoruichi, exceptionally skilled in espionage, picked up on it. Leaving Rukia's lap, she leapt to the backseat, pawing at the voluptuous blonde still semi-fused with the upholstery. A case three years ago had given her whispers of an organization doing illegal and inhumane experiments on orphaned children. But just as Soi Fong and her got close enough to blow the lid on the case the evidence trail disappeared.

"Ha, I knew it. Project Ground does exist."

"It did," Rangiku admitted, her beautiful face looking sour.

"What happened?" Yoruichi inquired. Ever curious.

This time Rukia answered. Fondly recalling the day her outlook changed; It took failing her mission to assassinate Jūshirō Ukitake for that to happen; The Empath had touched her frozen soul without meaning to. She had never looked back.

"We grew up. And we wanted to do more than survive. We wanted to live."

"Shihoin, I trust you will not speak a word of this to anyone," Byakuya said. Listening all along.

"Of course! I deal in secrets and I never kiss and tell," Yoruichi positively purred. "So how many of you are there?"

"Hn let's see..." Rangiku counted everyone off on her fingers while saying aloud, "I'm Mirage, and there's Leader, Prodigy, Healer, Mecha, Brand, Reaper, Blade, Nirvana, Banshee, Genesis, Zero and...Hollow."

Rukia tensed. It was bittersweet hearing Rangiku recount the original group, as well as their newest editions; Senna was still one of them. Also true to her word, Isane hadn't mentioned what happened to Gin. Neither had Tōshirō. Meeting Byakuya's stern gaze, she read what it meant; 'Say nothing.'

"Ah, codenames." Yoruichi didn't miss a trick. "Don't worry Mirage you can trust me. Hollow, you too."

"How did you know?" Rukia balked. Was it that obvious? Or was Yoruichi that much of a sleuth?

"Psh haven't you figured it out yet?"

"Shihoin, preening doesn't suit you," Byakuya snapped. Rukia wasn't sure why exactly, but she had the sinking feeling it revolved around the lines of more secret-keeping.

"Takes one to know one." A flash of brilliant light later, Yoruichi shifted back into her Human form. Crossing her arms and legs, all she wore were two gold bracers on her forearms, a tattoo on her left outer thigh and a cheeky grin. "I've got a few titles under my collar. One is my Codename: Nekomata."

The only one who didn't freak out was Byakuya, though he sorely wished he was anywhere but here. Rukia's jaw hit the floor, thinking the former Princess turned Stealth Agent hadn't needed to reveal quite so much. Her face contorted in an expression akin to furious disbelief.

"Oh, my, I never guessed you were woman," Rangiku pouted, bright blue eyes sparkling. Not to be outdone, she added, "I'll take my clothes off too!"

"NO!" Byakuya and Rukia voiced in unison, exchanging a could-this-night-get-any-worse? look.

In the furore, Rukia didn't notice they were going anywhere in particular until Byakuya stopped on the edge of a cobblestone driveway overlooking a paddock. A copse of lush green cryptomeria trees loomed large around a red two-story circular structure. It looked like its Architect had tried to create something unique but it was just an eyesore.

Lights streamed from the inside. Someone actually lived there.

Then a female servant came to the doorway and waved at them. A rather mean-looking boar lazed at her heels.

"There's my cue. Don't worry, Rukia. With us working together, nothing could go wrong," Yoruichi assured her.

"Thank you, Yoruichi," Smiling back.

Yoruichi was about to get out when she turned to Rangiku. "Mirage, fancy a girl's night? And give these two lovebirds some space..."

"Sure, why not." Rangiku, only too happy to accept. In her book 'girl's night' read 'party'. Wagging one french-polished nail at the couple, she said in earnest, "You two stick together, you hear?"

Byakuya shot her the haughtiest glare. As if he needed the reminder. "I will not let Rukia out of my sight."

Yoruichi and Rangiku then left for the house and its eccentric occupants. Not at all shy about having to walk the short driveway without clothing on.

"Oh my god. We just got 'mommied'," Rukia mumbled. She was smiling too in spite of herself. Because quirks and all, they were soul sisters. "Who's house is this anyway?"

"Director Shiba's residence."

Rukia couldn't help feeling a little funny at the mention of Kukaku's name, but ultimately she was Byakuya's Superior. And their past relationship was exactly that - In the past.

"And the boar?" Casting a wary eye as the animal seemed perkier by the arrival of guests.

"That is Bonnie." Choosing not to elaborate on the Shiba's nonconformist lifestyle, he popped the Lexus LFA into gear and drove away. Free from his rowdy passengers the tension slid right off him. "The night is ours. Where to?"

Rukia didn't mind the abrupt change in topic. She had feared their date wasn't going happen. Again. "Do you remember in the Institute we used to talk about going where no one would find us?"

Byakuya paused for thought - Rukia had made up a code so that the Personnel wouldn't be privy to their personal discussions - Then he got it.

"Follow the white rabbit."

Her smile widened. "Ahuh, well I found the perfect place. I'll direct you."

"Very well," His tone smug. "Along the way, you will explain to me why you've been crying."

Crinkling her nose at him, she'd forgotten how perceptive he could be. Or maybe she was just that lousy at hiding things. Especially when it involved matters of the heart.

Yoshino stirred. Bathed in a warmth she had never felt before. A soft smile played on her lips. She liked this feeling. She clung to it as her deep brown eyes sought to focus. While vaguely wondering how long she had slept for this time.

Minutes? Hours? Days? It was like a game, somehow compensating for her immortality.

Her smile disappeared as she remembered her impending execution. Propping herself up on one elbow, her long, brown hair fell silkily over her bare shoulders. Yoshino had thought her hair was tied up when she fell asleep.

Then her confusion deepened as coherency seeped in; Asparagus green walls instead of ghost white stared back at her. Mens clothing, pairs of broken sunglasses and empty food packets littered the woven mats covering the floor. There was even a long, segmented blade taking pride of place on the lone coffee table. Also the room smelled faintly of sweet beans.

This was not her prison cell.

'Am I dreaming?' Yoshino thought to herself. But it didn't feel like a dream.

All of a sudden she was ousted from the futon she laid in and landed unceremoniously on the floor. Scrambling into a sitting position, Yoshino collected her robe back around her shoulders. Confusion turned to horror. The muscular and prominently tattooed arm and leg of a very tall man was poking out of the blankets. Evidently the source of the 'warmth' she felt earlier, as well as the reason she currently occupied a space on cold tile.

Worse still, Yoshino recognized him in a heartbeat. He had matured since the last time she had seen him in the Institute, but there was no mistaking his distinguishing ink art, bold and black. Nor that glorious mane of crimson hair. Long and loose, it weaved its way in and over his rippling muscles, down to his backside.

Renji Abarai. Subject 6 B. Codename: Brand.

She went red in the face. Embarrassingly thinking up all sorts of diabolical scenarios that led her to being here. With him. Sharing a bed. It made her angry. Then afraid. Picking her way through the assortment of junk, she tried to flee. But the door was made of a carbon steel alloy. And she didn't have the superhuman strength to open it.

Renji bolted awake to an earful of banging and panicked moans. His own deep brown eyes peered glassily at Yoshino, surprised and a little hurt. Reluctance was one thing; Attempting to run without a word was another.

"Oi, just quit it already."

Resigned, Yoshino stopped. But the fire still burned in her eyes. "What am I doing here?!"

"Yeah, 'bout that..." Renji said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "It's kinda a long story."

"This is a mistake!" Frenzied eyes darted around the room looking for another way out. "I kept my distance for your own good. You have no idea what you've done by releasing me from Prison!"

Renji stood up. His 6'2" frame towering above her. His sad puppy dog look changed into something more brittle.

"For a long time now, I wondered what you were like. I thought I had to be the biggest piece of shit for you to not want to know me. And I hated myself for it, but forget all that. My friend is gonna die if you don't help him. So please, help."

Yoshino just stared at him. His herculean body clothed in white and pink floral boxers reminded her that he was no longer the boy she had forsaken. And by her count, now 21 years old. She felt a rise of sympathy. Yet no amount of guilt was going to change the fact that she was the 10th Vasto Lorde.

"Fine, I will do what I can for your friend. But The Army of The Dead will find me. And when They do..."

"...Here we are!" Rukia exclaimed proudly.

"A ghost town?"

Following her line of sight, Byakuya wasn't seeing it - Literally. In the heart of Minamikawase, its boom days had clearly died long ago. Now there was nothing to see but empty, rundown buildings and vacant lots. Age-old billboards erected under static lighting promised a future that would never happen. And an Art Gallery that once held a 10 year old disabled boy's dream of public acceptance.

Yet Rukia couldn't have known because he never told her.

"It may look that way, but there's a place called Inochi no Ori that has the best dishes, like you would not believe!"

"A Restaurant," Byakuya said dully, earning him a playful tug on his coat sleeve.

"Trust me, it's more than that," Her excitement refusing to fade, she chuckled.

Rummaging through her bag, she pulled out their masquerade masks and handed him his. Then she stripped off her jacket. Her cerise skirt turned out to be a strapless dress and full-length arm sleeves. The angel figurine he'd gifted her now hung off a silver chain around her neck.

"Your turn," She smiled impishly.

Byakuya smirked. This role-reversal was turning him on. Playing his part, he took off his black coat and carefully laid it along the backseat of his car. Then he turned to face her for inspection. "Is this what you had in mind?"

"Better." Rukia felt tingly all over; Ripped-sleeve indigo vest with matching skintight pants and calf boots; He had followed her outfit request perfectly.

After securing their masks, Byakuya locked up his Lexus, and was soon dragged away by Rukia. Walking the short distance to the dilapidated Art Gallery, he sighed in relief when they went past it and down an alleyway. Their path ended at a black painted door resembling the front of an oversized locker. Rukia rolled up her left sleeve and touched her wristband to a hidden mechanism on the door. Several clicks later it slid open.

They were greeted by a slender woman with long, purple hair, black lipstick and black swirls decorated on her cheeks. With a smile nearly as large as her heaving bosom, she beckoned them over to a podium.

"Hello Kirio, is there space for a late entry?" Rukia inquired.

"For you Honey, always," Kirio said, delighted. She took a quill from a large silver ornament in her hair and scribbled in a thick leatherbound book. Then her dark eyes settled on Byakuya. "Who's the Handsome Devil?"

"Oh, this is Zero. Zero, Kirio Hikifune, the Ruler of Grain," Rukia introduced.

"Evening," Byakuya said, however reluctant. He'd never heard a more ludicrous title.

"Well, you're in for a treat. My recipes are legendary!" The lively Matron went on to ask, "How many keys will it be, Hollow?"

"Two please. For Levels 3 and 6, if I can."

Unclipping a keychain off a rope attached to a large wooden spatula tied to her belt, Kirio selected three gold keys, instead of two, and placed them in Rukia's palm. "Level 10 is on me."

Rukia knew better than to refuse a grand gesture from Kirio. The Ruler of Grain was far more than her appearance or name suggested. And she hadn't had the luxury of being on Level 10 before.

"Thank you," Rukia said graciously.

She then led the way to a cage elevator and going by sequential order, inserted the first of her gold keys into a panel on the wall.

"Inochi no Ori is like a Neutral Zone. Exclusively for members of the Trade."

"As in Contractors and Mercenaries." Byakuya refrained from using the less savory terms.

Rukia nodded. "I may not be one anymore, but as funny as it sounds, here I don't have to pretend."

A coyness crept into amethyst eyes. Gin and Rangiku, in a happier time, had told her about this underground society. So she came. In these walls she found the beloved partner she had lost years ago. Now that fantasy was real.

"Who were you with?" Misconstruing her diffidence for something he would not like.

The elevator stopped on Level 3 and the grille doors rolled open, halting their conversation. Sweet, soft instrumental music filtered through surround sound speakers. The fragrant aroma of spices and various foods wafted in the air; The Wok Chuan; Traditional decor dipped in earthen hues of gold, red, cream and dark brown creating an inviting ambience.

Other dinner guests were dressed in a similar fashion and all wore masks. True identities belonged on the outside. Selecting a table for two nearest the Chefs cooking over an open flame, Rukia got cosy on a cream colored zabuton. Byakuya sat across from her. Slate grey eyes cooling to a dusky stone.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"You're one to talk!" She smarted. Yet again reminded of his double standards.

"Of which I make no apology," He retorted.

"I know," Sighing as she admitted. They both had their faults. He was too used to getting his own way. "You'll think it's stupid..."

"Try me." Byakuya challenged. No response. Watching while Rukia read the menu, he tried a new tactic. "I have told you before. You need only ask, and I will tell you. No truth will be withheld."

That did the trick.

"Okay. Why did you buy Chidoribashi?"

Taken aback, Byakuya knew he had put his foot in it. Curbing the urge to point out that they were going off topic. There was only one person he could think of who's mouth was big enough to tattle - Rangiku Matsumoto. "Mirage."

"Not the point. But actually it was Healer. Mirage told me how much it cost."

"Of course," He deadpanned. "Fine, if you must know. I bought it purely out of self-interest."

"That cost $13 million?" She asked, suppressing a laugh. Was it so bad for her to know that he had a generous side?

"The price is nothing. With your friends safe, you are less likely to rush headlong into dangerous pursuits. And I can have you all to myself."

Suddenly hot, Rukia was thankful she was wearing a masquerade mask. For more than one reason. Her mouth opened and snapped shut again at the arrival of a young, male Waiter.

"Hello, my name is Rikichi and I'll be your Waiter," Rikichi bowed, shaggy black bangs falling into grey eyes. When he straightened up, they saw a tattoo inked above his left eye. His gaze flickered in between Rukia and Byakuya, waiting in silence. Then he bowed again, and took off without another word.

"Is that normal?" Byakuya queried. So far unimpressed.

"Um, no..." Determined to stay upbeat, Rukia dismissed it. "I'm sure he'll be back."

Byakuya no longer cared. The engagement ring in his pants pocket felt like leaden weight. His plan was to surprise her later on, yet there was no time like the present. He slid a small white jewellery box across the dark brown wooden table. Rukia froze, and just stared at it like it was a foreign object.

He sighed audibly. Nothing she did was how he expected. "Open it."

Breaking out of her trance, dainty fingers grasped the box and opened the lid. Her breath caught in her throat. 'Stunning' did not describe the ring inside; A cluster pink sapphire cut in the shape of a snowflake set on an 18 carat white gold twin band; Even the purple velvet lined box looked costly.

Rukia snapped it shut and pushed it back. Rejected, Byakuya spit tacks. "Don't look at me like that. It's too much!"

All of a sudden Rikichi emerged carrying a large tray laden with platefuls of various dishes; Ramen seasoned with shichimi, chirashi, fried egg nigiri and omuraisu with a side of umeboshi. Topping it off was a bowl of sliced banana, rice dumplings and a carafe of umeshu plum wine.

"Thank you, but we didn't order this," Rukia said.

Rikichi, looking a little flustered, just bowed. "The Matron took the liberty of doing it for you. She hopes you enjoy her creations." Then he left the table.

Already counting himself the winner of this non-argument, Byakuya started sampling the dishes. It smelled wonderful. Rukia began salivating just looking at the culinary delights. Vaguely curious as to how Kirio seemed to know both of their preferential foods.

"The Council won't allow it," She protested further.

"The Council cannot stop me. You will have to do better than that."

"I can't let you give up your legacy for me."

She was quoting his Aunt, and he knew it. Byakuya put down his chopsticks and tenderly lifted her chin to meet his smooth gaze.

"I will not live my life without you."

Touching her hand to his, Rukia's heart swelled until she thought it would burst. She nodded. Byakuya took her ring out of its box and slipped it on her finger. Sealing the deal.

"Good. Now you should eat."

Rukia's lips spread into a brilliant smile. Caught up in the moment, she forgot all about telling him that she was going to the Valley of Screams with Ichigo, Ikkaku and Yumichika tomorrow night. Nel, having recovered her memories, and hence, the full extent of her Vasto Lorde powers, could now open the Gateway. Their intent - To rescue Senna.

They had almost devoured their entire meal when Rukia didn't think she could fit in another bite. Byakuya too, as much he loathed to admit, was satisfied.

"I want to eat it all, but I can't."

Overhearing, Rikichi appeared at their table again wheeling a trolley cart, looking peppy as punch. He cleared the plates before they scarcely got up to leave. Rukia awarding the adolescent a serene smile. "Please give Kirio our thanks. It was delicious."

Rikichi nodded, and bowed. Kind grey eyes watched as they walked away. And he whispered softly under his breath, "Goodbye, Rukia. Be safe..."

...

Back in the elevator, Rukia inserted the key to Level 6. - The Rave Tank.

Doors opening, they were instantly blasted with Electro music pumping out of massive speakers. Rainbow colored strobe lights cut lanes across a sea of masked faces gyrating on a crystalline dance floor. Five floor-to-ceiling tubes filled with a gelatinous liquid set center stage, casting a neon green, yellow, purple, red and blue glow.

DJ Ōetsu Nimaiya, the King of Clubs, stood atop a pedestal stage ripping beats on a colossal-sized turntable. His stylized mop of black and dyed green hair, and trademark gold and blue sunglasses was as famous as his talent for remixing tracks.

Hips swaying, Rukia led Byakuya by the hand, past the throng to the giant tank bar.

A tall, thin male approached them. Dark brown, shaggy hair and purple eyeshadow laden turquoise eyes, his most prominent feature was exquisitely long fingernails. Manacles attached to his wrists.

"How may I serve you?" His polite voice carrying over the din.

"One soda water please," Rukia requested. Fuel for dancing.

"Make that two," Byakuya put in.

The bartender responded with a genial nod, and took two highball tumblers off a glass rack hanging overhead. As he turned to the refrigerator, another bartender barreled into him. Too busy to watch where she was going. Twin pairs of turquoise eyes blazed at each other.

"Ugh, Muramasa you're such a dweeb!" She jeered, then hurried on before he could so much as say a single word.

Staring at his colleague's pink faux-furred back, Muramasa looked as if he wanted to poke her with his dagger-esque nails. But instead, he continued with his job, plucking two glass bottles of chilled soda water from the refrigerator and returned to the counter. Apologizing for the delay.

"Please excuse me."

Rukia felt sorry for him. It wasn't his fault. "Do you get that alot?"

"Yes." Muramasa looked downcast when he said it, adding, "Haineko cannot help the way she is... Have a good night." Finished serving, he moved onto the next patron.

They took their soda water and walked to the far end of the bar. Haineko sat there sipping a glass of milk as if she didn't have a care in the world.

"Hope you choke on it," Rukia said, going past to the nearby standing lounge.

"Mind your own business!" Haineko shot back. But she made herself scarce. House Rules dictated Staff were not allowed to be rude to Clients.

Byakuya gave Rukia a pointed look. Typical of her to stick up for the underdog.

"Have you got that out of your system?"

"Yes." Rukia knew he was being facetious. All smiles, the whites and diamonds of her masquerade mask sparkled under the incandescent lights. Sipping her soda water in neat sips, she eyed the photo booth, tossing up between getting some snapshots in now or after.

Meanwhile Byakuya surveyed the floor. He didn't quite trust it. Every one of these people could be potential or known enemies. And it was naive to think no one would break the rules given the right incentive. As a Special Forces Agent, he shouldn't even be here. But then he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. They deserved this time together.

Suddenly commotion erupted from the stage. DJ Nimaiya's voice boomed over the sound waves.

"CAN YA FEEL IT?!"

"Yeah!" A chorus rang out.

"'CAUSE IT'S ABOUT TO GET HOTTT N' IIICY IN HERE!"

The crowd roared.

"Come on, we've got just enough time before the main event starts," Rukia said as she grabbed an unsuspecting Byakuya and whisked him off to what looked like a space aged jukebox.

A piece of loose thread on Byakuya's collar caught and snagged on the frame, fraying the fabric along his collarbone to his right shoulder.

The door sealed shut closing them inside the small photo booth. The music drowned out into a dull, vibrating thud. Above the mirrored glass panel a digital timer started counting down from '30'.

Byakuya caught on too late. But he didn't mind. Not when it clearly meant so much to her. Sitting down on the available padded seat, he eased Rukia onto his lap. She gasped, a little surprised, yet elated that he would make the effort. Byakuya usually shunned cameras. Why, was anyone's guess.

This moment had to be perfect. Rukia untied their masks and let them drop.

She saw his vest was torn, and bit her lip. Unable to resist, her fingers trailed exposed flesh, feeling the contour of his smooth skin and muscle. Reveling in how dirty it made him look.

"If you keep biting your lip, I may not let you out of this booth," Byakuya warned, his voice husky to match the smoldering grey of his eyes. His thumb swept over her cupid's bow mouth, prying her lips apart like a rosebud in bloom.

Lingering in his lustful gaze, she nearly gave into temptation. Damn tease.

"Oh no, you're not getting out of this that easily..." Taking his hand away, she lost her balance and nearly slid off his lap. Byakuya hiked her back up, keeping a firm hold on her leg. Rukia bit back a laugh. Acutely aware of how much he was enjoying that.

The timer flashed: '10'.

Heads touching and bodies pressed up against each other, they faced front, and waited for the flash.

Once.

Rukia wriggled as Byakuya inched his hand further up her dress, caressing her thigh. She turned her face towards his to catch the hint of a rare smile. And lost it. Laughing as the camera snapped them a second time.

Third.

Feeling cheeky, Rukia held up two fingers above Byakuya's head to mimic bunny ears.

Fourth.

Byakuya captured her mouth in a kiss. Hands roamed. Fondling, pinching at moistened skin.

Fifth.

The camera stopped. They didn't. Engrossed in each other even as their pictures spat out of the slot panel. Kissing, biting swollen lips. Teeth and nails grazing and probing at flimsy fabric. Pushed up against the booth's wall, he lifted her up to meet his erection. Her breath puffing out in heavy pants, she ground down around him. Wet and ready. Throwing her head back as he kissed the nape of her neck, down to the supple mound of her breasts. He growled. His fingers working at the zipper of her dress.

Their moment fizzled out with a bang. As if something had been pushed up against the booth. Next they heard a faint, catty laugh. Closest to the door, Byakuya tried the latch. It wouldn't budge. They were trapped inside.

Just then Rukia's expression went from puzzled to grim. "Is it me, or did it just get hot in here?"

Byakuya wished she was speaking metaphorically.

Author's Notes: Onose, Karasu, Seireitei, Matsukura, Minamikawase and Tsubakidai are all fictional places in Bleach.

Terminology: Inochi no Ori; translates to 'Cage of Life'. Wok Chuan; meaning 'spatula'. Ramen = noodle soup dish. Shichimi = 7 spice mix. Chirashi = scattered sushi. Nigiri = type of sushi, traditionally without seaweed. Omuraisu = omelette made with fried rice. Umeboshi = pickled plums.

Special Thanks to; To All you readers & reviewers! 2014 was a huge personal upheaval for me and I'm grateful for all of the support I received over that time.

Also a HUGE Thank you to new readers/followers of this fic. And for the favorites/alert adds. Greatly appreciated!