Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ 30Kisses ❯ Countdown ( Chapter 7 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
When people move from Rukongai to Seireitai, they often leave the memory of their troubles behind. It's encouraged, actually. The Academy's 60/40 in Rukongai's favor and the instructors can't be everywhere. If the class distinction got out of hand . . . well, frankly they can't afford to be patrolling for hollows and policing the streets of Seireitai for vigilantes at the same time. So the basic premise is once you're in the Academy, you've proved you have what it takes and that makes you the same as any other student. Sure, there are still snobs (Byakuya and Kenpachi) and geniuses (Byakuya, again, and Toushiro), but prejudice and talent comes from both sides of the tracks and otherwise most students successfully integrate with their peers.

Rukongai students, in general, have a slightly more difficult time accepting this, but instructors usually go out of their way to bring them into the fold. Ukitate Jyuushiro and Unohana Retsu are the best examples of this. When they were still instructors they were famous for (s)mothering their students. Ukitate never went anywhere without his pockets filled with candy and Unohana often knew her students were coming down with colds before they did. They almost seemed to believe there was a void in their students, that could only be filled by stuffing them with wholesome food (well, Ukitate was a bigger believer in sugar), a chill that even the stout walls and good clothes could only stop with handknit scarves and blankets, a vulnerability that needed all the clean water and hygiene that Seireitai could provide.

(And if you think this made them soft, you've never seen Unohana during a room inspection or Ukitate after you forgot to do your homework. They didn't become Captains because they were kind.)

And it was easy to forget, being cold, thirsty or hungry. Seireitai may not concern itself with what's outside its walls (aside from Hollows), but it binds the loyalty of its Shinigami with chains of gratitude. Rukongai-born shinigami may visit their old haunts, may chase down criminals or give alms to beggars or improve their old neighborhoods in any way, but few of them ever consider living there again. By far, the most successful project ever attempted by Seireitai is the brainwashing of its adopted children.

But no matter how thick the wall or guarded the gate, sometimes a bit of Rukongai manages to sneak in and rear its head, reminding them that they are still connected. And one of these vipers not only slipped past the wall, but into the house of the most prominent family of the Court of Pure Souls.



"Please eat, Oneesama. It'll make you feel better." Rukia bowed her head to the floor, not caring that she was messing up her hair and Academy uniform.

Hisana looked over the tray that had been placed in front of her. On it were the most exquisite delicacies, her favorite foods and even dishes that Rukia must have made herself. Rice and umeboshi with tea poured over them. Fresh watermelon. Rice pudding. Even a thin soup made from dandelions; Rukia must have ventured out into Rukongai for those. Everything designed to tempt her appetite (and strengthen her failing body).

Too bad she'd never had one. "Hisana is not very hungry, Imouto-chan."

"Just a bite. The doctor said it will help you fight the illness." The doctor had said nothing of the sort, but it was one of the things they had done in Rukongai. Given the sick the cleanest water, the warmest spot, the best food. Even if the individual couldn't use spiritual energy, they had forced them. And my friends had still died, a little voice inside Rukia's head whispered, but she shook it away. It would work this time. Here in Seireitai the water was clearer than the air in the 79th district. The food was better. They lived in a house now. Seireitai had medicine. There was no way her sister could die!

"Hisana is very sorry, Rukia-chan. Perhaps you could pour some tea instead?"

"Sure!" Even if it wasn't her sister's preference, Rukia made it in the modern, European style, laded with cream and sugar. If she couldn't get Hisana to eat, she'd make sure the older woman got some nutrition! Maybe Rukia could steal one of the IVs from the 4th Division and feed her intravenously!

"Thank you, Imouto-chan," Hisana said, trying to hide a grimace at the way her sister had polluted the tea. Fortunately, she was saved by the arrival of the master of the house. "Rukia-chan, Byakuya-sama is home. Would you please greet him on behalf of Hisana?"

The younger girl nodded and dashed out of the room.



"Niisan!" Byakuya barely had time to close the door before Rukia glomped him. She let go a second later, dropping to the ground to bow to him when she remembered. "I'm sorry-"

He caught her before she hit the floor. "It's alright." Rukia was the one person he allowed the liberty to act as she wished; Hisana never dared act outside her role. "How is my wife?"

Tears filled Rukia's indigo eyes and she let them run freely down her face. "According to the servants, she hasn't gotten up at all today. And I couldn't get her to eat anything, only some tea. Unohana-" a deep shuddering breath before she continued. "Unohana-taichou says she won't see the flowers bloom again."

"I see." To others, Byakuya might have seemed cold and unfeeling, but after three years, Rukia had learned to read him. Despair weighed just as heavily upon him as it did her, maybe even more so. "I'll see her now."

"Please, try and make her eat, Niisan."



"Welcome home, my Lord."

"Greetings," he replied. Noticing the still full teacup in her hand, he poured himself one. He filled his with cream and sugar as well; while he preferred it plain, Rukia thought it might encourage Hisana if she saw them doing the same. "Is something wrong with the food?"

"No! No," she whispered, taking a sip when she noticed him watching her. "Hisana was just feeling guilty, since she can't finish this much food."

"Don't worry about it." Servants would take whatever remained home to their districts to distribute. "Perhaps you would like to try something different." He picked up a bowl of steaming soup. "I remember this. Rukia said it was good for warming people up."

"Chicken noodle soup," she smiled. "One of Rukia-chan's new, Occidental dishes."

He hmmed, then brought the spoon up to her lips.



"Well?"

"I got her to eat half a bowl of the 'chicken soup' before she claimed exhaustion and went to sleep. We need to add that to the list of dishes that she actually has eaten."

"I'll tell the cook that." They entered the dining room and sat down. Byakuya looked down at the simple repast. It was just rice, steamed vegetables and fish. Filling, but not rich, adequate, but nothing like the feast that had been presented to Hisana.

"Itadakimasu," whispered Rukia. She looked at him. He looked at her. He took a bite of rice. Even though the food looked, smelled and tasted wonderful, he could barely choke it past the knot in his throat. Turning to look at Rukia, he guessed from the sick expression on her face that she felt the same way.

They could eat this food; feel it satisfy the hunger rumbling in their bodies. But the knowledge that such a simple thing could sustain them while even their most valiant efforts couldn't save Hisana made it all turn to ash in their mouths.