The young Shinigami looked nervous as she entered the room, and Yoruichi couldn’t blame her. Rukia was still a rookie, and finding herself face to face with the Kuchiki elders, including the Captain of Squad Six, would be enough to make any trainee tremble.
Yoruichi hadn’t been able to warn Rukia about what to expect; her mission from Byakuya had been short and simple, and needed to be done with the highest level of discretion.
Find Hisana’s sister. Tell no one.
The request was not a formal one—Byakuya, his stoic face hardened further with the loss of his wife, had asked an uncharacteristic favour of his old mentor, off the record. Yoruichi would have said yes to him regardless, but when his carefully composed façade cracked for a split second at his regret of not granting Hisana her dying wish, to reunite her with a long lost loved one… well. Yoruichi could empathise.
The room was dark, the only light the windows providing coming from the surrounding hallways adding to the unnerving atmosphere. Yoruichi watched from the side lines as her mission came to an end, with the Kuchiki family offering to adopt Rukia. The excuse of her looking like Byakuya’s late wife was a flimsy reason for the adoption, but Byakuya had been adamant that nobody but himself should know the true reason, and there was no one in the Kuchiki estate brave enough to deny their mourning Clan Head his unconventional whim.
Yoruichi wasn’t really listening to what Byakuya was saying, instead watching the reactions of those in the room. The disapproval of the Kuchiki elders Byakuya had brought was clear in the narrowed lines of their eyebrows and their hard set mouths, a sight Yoruichi was too familiar with from her own family to be shaken by. She was impressed, however, by Rukia’s nerve; she was clearly surprised by the situation, but her poise never faltered. No matter the reasons for her being adopted, Yoruichi could see the Kuchiki family would be getting a strong asset to their household in Rukia.
She was not, however, the only person capturing Yoruichi’s interest as she leaned against the wooden wall panels, just out of the line of artificial light streaking through the windows. Rukia’s friend, the redhead Yoruichi had observed her with, seemed ecstatic at Rukia’s chance, but Yoruichi could see the conflicting emotions underlying his cheerful demeanour. When Rukia shrugged his hands off her shoulders, Yoruichi tilted her head as resignation flickered across Renji’s face, and her brow furrowed. It was the look of someone who had given up already, and Yoruichi wasn’t sure exactly what he’d lost.
No words had been shared with Yoruichi since she had led Rukia to the room, finally confirming that she was who Byakuya had been looking for when he’d blinked at the girl’s entrance—there was no denying Rukia’s relationship with Hisana, although nobody was questioning that she was any more than a coincidental lookalike. Instead Yoruichi observed the scene, the sole witness who knew the extent of the truth. She watched the nobility parade out, the only reaction from her former protegee the barest hint of a nod as he passed her.
Rukia followed her new family, and Yoruichi frowned at the tremble of the younger girl’s hands before she clenched them tight. Glancing at Renji, Yoruichi shook her head, and decided to invite the newest Kuchiki to tea.
She looked like she may be in need of a friend.
| until i see you again |
Years passed by like seconds, and Yoruichi watched the world spin on an axis of disappointment.
She saw Shinigami come and go through the ranks, battles fought and battles lost all in a never ending rotation of clashing metal and heartless paperwork. There was always light to be found, of course; Yoruichi watched Soifon become almost as fast and deadly as herself, and saw Rukia blossom as she entered Squad Thirteen, becoming stronger and ever so slightly more comfortable in her own skin.
For every battle there was some kind of party, a situation helped greatly by the introduction of Lieutenant Matsumoto to the ranks, but as often as Yoruichi found herself laughing at a joke from her companions, she found herself turning to nudge where Kisuke should have been by her side. Nearly a century of looking, and she hadn’t found him.
It was rare that the something new would break the cycle, but her family’s first attempt at arranging a marriage for her certainly threw a spanner in the works; albeit not for long.
Soifon was furious as she carried the reply back to the Shihōin estate on Yoruichi’s behalf. The refusal to entertain the notion was blunt in Yoruichi’s sharp worded reply, and although sending her Lieutenant was veering on the cusp of disrespectful, neither woman particularly cared. Yoruichi knew she would need to give Soifon time to cool off before sending her on the next mission, lest some poor subordinate caught the end of her Lieutenant’s rage at the suggestion of Yoruichi marrying to stabilise a noble house which needed no such thing.
If she was being honest with herself, Yoruichi knew that such a message would eventually appear. Her position demanded the respect of traditions, but Yoruichi would set the Seireitei on fire before following in the footsteps of the leader of the Kasumiōji Clan.
Instead of deigning her family with any further response, Yoruichi followed her schedule for the day, waiting patiently at the outskirts of Squad Thirteen’s barracks. Evening was beginning to fall, the sunset painting the stark white walls of the Seireitei honey gold. Yoruichi inhaled deeply as she pushed down the anger bubbling within her. Really, she balanced her family duties and responsibility as a captain on a perfect knife edge—how dare her family imply she needed a husband?
Her anger was cut short with a call of her name. She looked up to see Rukia, on time as always.
Yoruichi’s smile slid easily on her face, a perfect lie nobody—bar one—had ever seen through. “Rukia,” she said with a wave as Rukia stopped next to her. “You’re looking well!”
Rukia bowed, slightly breathless from her sprint through the barracks. “Thank you, Lady Yoruichi.” A flick on the forehead was Yoruichi’s response, and there was something strangely gratifying in breaking Rukia’s polite demeanour as she scrunched her face up in response.
“Kaien’s right, you really won’t let up on the formalities, will you?” Yoruichi laughed. “Come on, there’s been a change of plans for tonight. We’re going out,” she decided on the spot. Tonight was not the night for a formal tea at the Shihōin estate.
Rukia blinked, but didn’t take much convincing as Yoruichi led her out of the Seireitei and towards the food district. Nobody batted an eye at the two Shinigami, even one with a captain’s uniform, as they strode towards Yoruichi’s favourite restaurant. Enough of them visited that the district kept itself out of trouble, and if the owner was disappointed that neither Shinigami had long strawberry blonde hair when he personally led Yoruichi and Rukia to the room tucked at the back of the restaurant, he had the grace not to show it.
A hum of conversation filled the venue, chatter punctuated by increasingly loud laughter as the drinks poured freely between the tables. As she and Rukia took their places kneeling either side of the low table, a glass bottle of water and cups already placed on the pale wood, their attendant bowed and slid the door shut behind them as he went to procure the finest sake in the building, the number on the back of Yoruichi’s haori doing the work for them.
The privacy granted by the closed door allowed both nobles to relax, Yoruichi more so than her younger counterpart; Rukia never seemed to be fully at ease, the burden of her new status heavy on her shoulders.
Yoruichi steepled her fingers, resting her chin on them as she leaned her elbows on the low table. “You know, don’t need to stand on ceremony all the time—especially with me. Relax, Rukia; there are no Kuchikis hiding behind the screen to judge you on how straight your posture is right now.”
A hesitant smile was Rukia’s reply, even as the tension in her shoulders lessened. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t put it past a couple of them,” she said, eyes flicking around the room as if expecting a Kuchiki elder to jump out from behind the large painting of a mountainous landscape. Yoruichi laughed, the sound bouncing off of the thin walls, and Rukia tried not to look pleased at the reaction. The door behind them slid open, and the women nodded in gratitude as the server left them a bottle of sake—good quality, Yoruichi noted—and some small plates of food placed carefully between them.
“On the house,” the girl murmured, bowing as she exited the room. Yoruichi shrugged as she took the bottle and opened it with a pop. Pouring the clear liquid into the unused water cups, she met Rukia’s eyes.
“Sometimes being nobility has its perks,” Yoruichi grinned, putting the bottle down and raising her cup. “Kanpai!” Rukia clinked the dark blue ceramic against Yoruichi’s, repeating the cheers before taking a sip whilst her superior took a gulp. Yoruichi nodded as the sake hit her tastebuds; the restaurant had definitely brought out the good stuff. “So, Rukia, tell me. How’s your new Squad?” Byakuya would tell her absolutely nothing about how Rukia was getting along, and catching Ukitake between missions, training the new recruits, and bouts of sickness was near impossible. Only Lieutenant Kaien was any use in keeping Yoruichi in the loop with her new friend.
Tension shot through Rukia again, and Yoruichi silently cursed her question. Both of Rukia’s hands cupped her drink, and her eyes dropped to the table.
“I’m trying—Sir Kaien and Captain Ukitake are so kind, and patient, but I—” Rukia stopped herself, lips twisting into a grimace. “I do not want to dishonour the Kuchiki clan with my lack of skills.” The self deprecation was clear on Rukia’s face. Yoruichi decided to wipe it off by throwing a piece of takoyaki, carefully arranged on the plate in a perfect circle, at Rukia. To her credit, Rukia barely flinched as she caught the ball in her hand; the only indication of surprise was the perfect o her mouth dropped into at Yoruichi’s action.
Yoruichi wagged a finger at her companion, keeping her chin in her palm as she gave Rukia a stern look. “None of that. Kaien says you’re exceptionally good with your kido, even if there’s room for improvement with your sword skills.”
Rukia’s brow furrowed. “Then why did you ask?” Yoruichi grabbed another piece of takoyaki, this time with a set of chopsticks resting on the plate, and popped it into her mouth.
“I asked how your squad was, not how your training was going,” she said thickly as she swallowed. “Are you all getting along?”
Rukia perked up instantly, and Yoruichi couldn’t help but smile at the light in her eyes. “Oh, yes. They’ve been so welcoming. I’m still adjusting,” she admitted, “but I’m happy to be part of Squad Thirteen. I hope I can do them and the Kuchiki name proud.” As she spoke, Rukia’s back had straightened again, her chin lifted as though reciting a mantra. Yoruichi’s head tilted, her purple hair brushing over her shoulder, vibrant against her stark white coat.
She reached out, placing her hand on Rukia’s wrist and squeezing it gently.
“The most important thing is that you’re proud of yourself, Rukia. The right decision isn’t always the one that’s expected of you,” Yoruichi said. “Even with your new position, there will be times you need to remember that.”
A twist of her lips was Rukia’s only response; too polite to verbally disagree with Yoruichi, but not sure enough to agree with her, either. Yoruichi let go of her wrist, smiling warmly; she knew when to pick her battles, and this was not one of them. For the moment, at least.
Rukia reached out to pick up one of the dumplings laid out in a line with the chopsticks resting on the plate, taking a bite as she nodded slowly. Yoruichi exhaled; it was obvious that Rukia didn’t understand yet, but maybe one day she would.
She didn’t let the thought linger, instead pointing her chopsticks towards Rukia. “So, far more importantly, anyone in the Squad caught your eye, oh, noble Kuchiki?”
Rukia’s face turned red, and Yoruichi’s eyes widened, her mouth splitting into a wide grin.
“Ooooh, does my Rukia have a crush?” Yoruichi leaned forwards, steepling her fingers together and resting her chin on them, eyes glittering in the low lighting. “Who is it? Anyone I know?” She knew pretty much everyone, but that wasn’t the point.
Even in the dimly lit room, Yoruichi could see Rukia’s face heating up as she shook her head. “No—it’s nothing. There’s nobody.” Rukia poured more water into her cup, taking a long sip and refusing to meet Yoruichi’s gaze.
An arched eyebrow was her companion’s response. “Remind me to help you work on your poker face. C’mon, you can tell me!” A memory flickered in the back of Yoruichi’s mind, and she shot Rukia a frown. “Oh, is it someone not in the Squad? What about that boy you knew in the Rukongai—Renji?”
Really, Yoruichi wished she could have captured the look on Rukia’s face as it contorted in abject horror. “Oh, no. No. Renji is—well, he was—like a brother to me.” A sadness Yoruichi knew from the reflection in her own mirror dulled Rukia’s eyes, her small hands cupping her drink as she rolled the clear liquid in the cup. Yoruichi regretted the guess, and reminding Rukia of her friend, immediately. “We haven’t spoken for years. Not since—well. It doesn’t matter.” Rukia’s violet eyes met Yoruichi’s, and even worse than the sadness in Rukia’s gaze was the false smile Yoruichi could see right through. “It’s not Renji. It’s nothing, really.”
Yoruichi let out a gentle hum of consideration, lifting her chin and leaning back in her chair. Another tidal wave of anger was threatening to spill over her, this time for the girl in front of her, bound by a responsibility she’d never expected and abandoned by the one person she’d relied on. Kisuke would have never—
She stopped that train of thought in its tracks; no more sake, Yoruichi decided. “Okay, Tiny Rukia,” she grinned, trying to lighten the mood, “you keep your secrets. But any boy problems, you come straight to me. I don’t think Byakuya would be good at dating tips, unless they involve glaring.”
The snort Rukia let out was the least ladylike thing Yoruichi had ever seen the girl do, and Rukia immediately clapped her hand over her mouth the second it had slipped out of her mouth. Yoruichi only winked, determined to save at least one Kuchiki sibling from being crushed by the heavy weight of their name.
| until i see you again |
The Captains’ Meeting had been called unexpectedly, the hell butterflies only relaying that there was an emergency following an incident in Karakura Town. It was the second time in her life that Yoruichi felt like the world was playing a cruel joke on her.
Head Captain Yamamoto was too calm, she thought, as he sentenced a young Shinigami to death. Ukitake was protesting vehemently, his words unable to break through the panicked static filling Yoruichi’s mind as she pictured Rukia on the Sōkyoku, her friend’s small frame eclipsed in fire for what was barely a crime. They were Shinigami, their job was to protect the living—why should Rukia be punished for doing her job?
Yoruichi only realised she had spoken out loud when she heard Ukitake agree with her. She blinked, aware of her fellow captains’ eyes on her. Ukitake’s impassioned outburst was expected, but the hardened Captain of Squad Two was not one to protest orders.
She hadn’t before, after all, when they had expected her to.
But it was Yamamoto’s response to Ukitake, his cold reply of, It is the will of Central Forty Six, which lit the spark Yoruichi had kept dampened for over a century. She spun on her heel to face the Head Captain, anger flashing in her amber eyes as her ponytailed hair slapped the shoulder of Captain Kyoraku next to her.
“The will of Central Forty Six should not be absolute, without questioning,” she said sharply, before looking at Byakuya. “Don’t you have anything to say about this?”
Fury burned through her at Byakuya’s dispassionate stare. “It is the law.”
“It’s wrong,” she snapped, but was cut off before she could elaborate.
“Captain Shihōin,” Yamamoto boomed across the hall. “If you wish to remain a Captain, you will bite your tongue. Central Forty Six’s decision is final, and any further debate from any Captain—” he looked directly at Ukitake, “—will result in their title being stripped from them. Now, that will be all.”
The captains bowed instinctively at the dismissal, Yoruichi following suit as fury burned in her throat. She strode out of the hall, her haori flowing behind her like wings, as she ignored the sound of her name being shouted behind her. Yoruichi just about registered the voice as Ukitake’s, but it was all she could do not to head straight to the Shishinrō and break Rukia out there and then.
Her office was empty when she arrived, flash step bringing her there quickly, the desire to be alone overtaking the need to present a calm façade. It was quiet, calm; birds chirped happily in the trees outside, the midday sun
Yoruichi leaned on her desk, fingers gripping the dark wood so tightly her dark knuckles paled in tension, and tried to calm herself. She looked up, the bright white canvas with her squad number delicately painted onto it stark against the walls. Yoruichi took a breath, letting the tension in her body ease as she reminded herself of who she was, Shihōin Yoruichi. Captain of the Stealth Force, one of the Seireitei’s strongest and deadliest units. Leader of a noble house or not, she was not a woman to be trifled with.
The execution was in a few months; she had time.
Yoruichi would not fail her friend. Not again.