Author's Note:

Takes places shortly after the Soul Society Arc.

Title comes from that classic work of poetry, Just Give Me a Reason,by P!nk.

Rated T for mild language.

"Aaaaaand this one needs a signature."

Captain Kuchiki signed with a flourish. "Is that the last one?" he asked, handing the paper back to his adjutant. It was amazing how Captainly he still managed to look while wearing a bathrobe and propped up on a bunch of pillows.

"Yes, sir," his lieutenant, Abarai Renji, replied. "You know, sir, a lot of these could really wait until you're back in the office. Regrowing organs is serious business."

"Convalescence is its own form of torture, Abarai," Kuchiki regarded him coolly. "I am actually quite grateful for you coming out here."

"Oh, it's no problem, sir!"

Byakuya folded his hands on his desk. "How are the men? I did circulate that memo indicating that I had my full trust in you, and I hope they are treating you with the appropriate measure of respect. After… all that occurred."

Renji suddenly seemed to find the ceiling very interesting. "Ah, well, funny thing that. You remember that discussion we had when I first came on, where you asked me what I thought of everyone? And I said that I thought 7th Seat Gotou was a bully and that he was really affecting morale?"

"I recall."

"Well, when I busted out of prison, I mean, I wasn't really going after anyone, I was just… focused on what I was doing and it turned out I plastered Gotou just immediately. Utterly trashed. His sinus cavities are a disaster."

"I see."

"And you know how he is, he would never admit how badly he got wrecked, so he's being super polite to me."

"7th Seat Gotou is a high ranking member of one of the Kuchiki branch families, did you know that?" Of course Renji knew that. Even if the guy didn't go around pointing it out seventeen times a day, he had the Kuchiki Look- tall, heavily-lidded eyes, that nose. Well. He used to have that nose.

"That would make him somewhat difficult for you to discipline in ordinary circumstances, right, sir?" Renji pointed out.

"This was, of course, an accident," Byakuya noted off-handed. He had become interested in some other papers on his desk.

"Exactly, sir."

"And also, I am not there to weigh in."

"No, sir."

"I've apologized to the other guys I hurt and gave them some extra one-on-ones. The lower ranked ones especially seemed pretty happy with that."

It was obvious that the captain cared much less about what the lower-ranked guys thought. "Very good, Lieutenant, thank you for the report. You are dismissed."

"Hey, Captain, before I go, can I ask-" Renji took a deep breath. "How is Rukia?"

A muscle in Byakuya's jaw twitched. He was silent for a long moment, then he looked up at Renji, carefully studying the younger man's face for a moment. Finally, he spoke.

"Before we go any further, Lieutenant, I need you to know something: I do not, generally, want to know any of the details of your personal life. This is because I enjoy a relationship of detached professionalism and also because I do not care about you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. So, I am only asking you this question because it is pertinent to a present difficulty: How do you know my sister, anyway?"

Renji blinked. "You don't know?"

"I noticed on your personnel form that you are from South Rukongai 78, as is she. Did you know each other there? A district is a big place. And I imagine you attended Shin'ou at roughly the same time? You weren't… sweethearts, or whatever the young people call it, were you?"

Renji felt his cheeks color. "As you said, sir, we grew up together in Inuzuri!"

"You were close?"

"Inseparable, sir! For ten years!"

Byakuya frowned. "Strange, then, that she has been a member of my family for four decades and has never mentioned you." It did not seem relevant to Byakuya that Rukia had never mentioned anything personal to him, let alone any people she had known.

"Once we moved to the Seireitei, we became… separable, sir," Renji cringed. "I didn't think it would be proper to continue our association after her adoption."

"Hmm. A surprising appreciation of propriety, Lieutenant."

"Thank you? Sir?"

"Then I can tell you this, and expect that you will treat this information carefully: Physically, she is well recovered. However, her spiritual powers are not returning. It is possible they may never."

"Oh," Renji said softly.

Byakuya went on. "I was not pleased to hear that, while I was still recovering at the Coordinated Relief Station, she went out to Rukongai to see the Shiba family, although I understand her reasons. At the time, Kurosaki was still wandering the Soul Society, and it would have been a fool indeed to make an attempt on Rukia with him in earshot."

"An attempt? You think Rukia is in danger?"

"I am not confident that we have unearthed every last tendril of Aizen's plots. He could still have agents working within Soul Society. Urahara, the immoral libertine who used her as a science experiment, apparently still has reach here, despite being banished over a century ago. Additionally, my family always has enemies. Now is a terrible time for Rukia to be without her defenses. I have ordered her to stay on the grounds of the manor, and appointed a special guard post to ensure that she is watched over at all times."

"How is that working out, sir?" Renji asked mildly.

Byakuya's steely eyes bore into him. "She is driving me into madness, Lieutenant."

Sounds about right, Renji wisely chose not to say. "Surely she's not… misbehaving?"

"Hmm? No, of course not. I…" Byakuya frowned. "I don't know how she's doing it. She's been obedient enough, perfectly polite about it, really, but somehow, she has managed to cast a net of nervous tension over the entire household. It's like there are bees in the walls. Buzzing. I haven't even seen her in two days and I can… just… feel it. Putting us all on edge. How is she doing this?"

"Yes, sir, I am quite familiar with the sensation."

Byakuya didn't seem to notice that he was clenching and unclenching his fists. "How do you make her stop?"

"You give her what she wants. Sir."

"Of course I cannot, it's for her own protection."

Renji shrugged noncommittally. "Just so you know, sir, I have never outlasted the bees. You are my superior in many ways, so please let me know if you do."

Byakuya set his clenched fists on his desk. "Abarai, you were ready to die for her at Soukyoku Hill."

Renji became very serious. "Sir, yes, sir."

Byakuya made a face like he had eaten a newt. "Then I would ask you a favor."

It was a fine day, a jewel of a late summer day, the kind that should be treasured before warm sunshine made way for the chilly winds of fall. The garden was filled with full blown flowers and beautiful scents. Rukia held back her kimono sleeve as she swept through the motions of calligraphy, so like the sword release she could no longer perform. She chucked the brush carelessly in the general direction of its holder. She wanted to burn this place to the ground.

"Excuse me? Lady Rukia?" a soft-voiced servant murmured behind her. "You have a visitor."

As Rukia turned to address the servant, she noticed Kamata Dai, the head of the House Guard whispering to the young guard on Rukia-duty.

"Okay," Rukia mumbled noncommittally, trying to look casual while awkwardly groping for her sword, which was sitting on the engawa behind her. The two men disappeared back into the house.

"Shall I show him in?" the servant girl prompted. "And would you like me to fetch some tea?"

"Yeah, show him in," Rukia went on, her left hand finally closing on Sode no Shirayuki's sheath.

"And let's have some tea."

"Very good, miss."

Rukia got up on one knee, in a crouched drawing position. The fingers of her right hand hovered over the sword grip.

"Lieutenant Abarai for you, miss."

Rukia fell back on her bottom. "Aw, man. I thought I was getting attacked."

"Effusive and excessive greetings to you, Lady Rukia!" Renji said, too loudly, stepping through the doorway.

The servant frowned, and slipped back into the house for the tea.

"Did I do that right?"

"No," Rukia grumbled.

"Do you always carry your sword around the house?"

Rukia's face turned a bit sad. "If she has something to say to me, I want to be nearby."

Renji plopped down on the sun-warmed engawa. "Can I sit here? Am I dishonoring you?"

"Constantly. Why are you in my house?"

"Your brother is even worse at resting than you are. He asked me to bring him some paperwork. And you don't need to turn your bees on me, I'm on your side."

"Either you're here to break me out of the Maggot's Nest here, or you can-" she grabbed her calligraphy and held it up for his examination. In beautifully curling strokes of expensive black ink, it read "Eat a bag of dicks."

"Your handwriting has come along beautifully, you know. And I really like the way you're bringing our Inuzuri cultural heritage into the classical traditions."

She slammed the paper back down again, sullenly. Ichigo had been much easier to horrify.

"Did you know I was coming? Why would you make that? Who else could you possibly show it to?"

"No one," she groaned. "I'm so bored."

"Let's go out. I'll take you to dinner."

"I can't," she protested. "I'm on house arrest and I have to have these dumb guards around all the time. Speaking of, what did you do to my guard?"

"The captain said," Renji explained gently, "that if I promised to protect you with my life, I could be your guard and I could take you around the Seireitei."

Rukia's eyes went wide, first with delight, and then with anger. "This is humiliating!" She was expecting the traditional chest thumping and posturing, and was absolutely not prepared for,

"I know it is, and I'm sorry."

She made as if to draw her sword again. "Who are you and what have you done with Renji?"

He didn't even have the decency to chuckle, he just looked her in the eye and said, "After all you've been through, it really sucks that your powers haven't come back and it super sucks that you're being treated like a piece of glass. But also, who the hell knows what's going on these days? You came real close to dying there, and nobody wants a repeat of that." He took a deep breath. "Look. When I got my position at the 6th, I saved my entire second paycheck so I could take you out to dinner. I was gonna tell you about it as soon as you got back from your mission in the living world."

"Don't spend your money on me, dummy!"

He regarded her very seriously. "Rukia, our whole childhood, I could never afford to do anything for anyone. I have been planning this since we passed the entrance exams at the Academy."

Damn the man, he knew she had no defense against him when he was being sincere!

"C'mon, do you want to stay here and be pissed, or can you humor your old buddy and maybe even have a good time?"

"Oh-kaaaay," she relented. She did, very much, want to get out of there. She sprang to her feet just as the servant returned with a tea tray. "Belay the tea! I'm going out!" She snatched up her calligraphy project and thrust it at Renji's chest. "Here. This is for you."

"Do you mind if we swing by my place to drop this stuff off?" Renji jostled the pile of paper in his arms for emphasis. "I wanna change clothes, too. You given any thought to where you wanna go? It's your pick."

"Tampopo," she replied without hesitation.

"The ramen place over by the Academy? A vice-captain's salary isn't what you might hope, but I can definitely take you to a nicer place than that."

"I always wanted to go and I never got to," she replied simply.

Oh. Ohhhhh.

There was always food available for free in the Academy cafeterias, but the students enjoyed getting off campus once in a while, and there were a variety of loud, cheap eateries in the vicinity. As scholarship kids, Renji and Rukia had each received a small stipend, which they hoarded like dragons in case of emergencies. They lived in terror of a ripped uniform or lost textbook. They were strict cafeteria adherents.

Izuru and Momo never said anything of it. They were vaguely aware of Renji's financial situation and very aware of the delicacy of his pride. There may have been some joking fictions maintained about his devotion to the cafeteria yakisoba or mealtimes being his special time to lecture Rukia on the finer points of being an advanced shinigami.

It must have been after she was adopted, then, the first time Kira had said to him, "Come along with us, Abarai, we're going out today. It's my turn to buy, you don't have to worry about that."

He had hunched his shoulders and been very interested in collecting his notes. "Yeah, but it won't ever be my turn to buy. I'll stick to the cafeteria, thanks."

"I don't care about that." Izuru landed a triple-punch on his shoulder, their usual gesture of affection. "Momo and I are bored of making fun of each other and we want to make fun of you." He glanced around to verify that the classroom had mostly cleared out. Momo was bothering the instructor about something, as usual. "There are lots of ways to show friendship, Abarai. Paying for lunch is a tiny imposition for me, and I understand that I am actually asking for a much greater imposition from you. But I think we're good enough friends now that maybe you wouldn't mind me asking."

Renji's face burned a little, even just at the memory. In the last few weeks, he'd awkwardly passed Kira a few times in the hallway, visiting Momo at Squad 4. Maybe it was time to send the guy another text.

"It's not that good, I've been," he blurted at Rukia, trying to cover the fact that his mind had been wandering. "But if that's what you want, I'm game."

"It is what I want, and I want to go with you," she sniffed.

Renji looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't sure if he was eventually going to get tired of looking at her, but it wasn't going to be anytime soon. Seventeen inches down and a little off to the side, that little bobbing mop of dark hair, right where she belonged. Maybe. "Hey, Rukia?"

"What's up?"

"I know you're sort of in a hostage situation here, but I, uh, I am actually pretty happy- no, that's not what I mean. What I actually mean is, I just would like to- if you want to- like to start, you know. Hanging out again." Wow, that was smooth, his jerkbrain congratulated him.

Rukia had only very recently gotten back into the habit of walking with friends. For a long forty years, she had mostly occasionally trailed along in the shadow of her brother or a superior officer, called on to nod or "yes, sir!" at appropriate times. Officer or friend: which was this tall stranger walking beside her? Her brother's deputy, the very picture of a model young officer, assigned as her protection detail, babbling strange, disjointed, vaguely affectionate things at her, reminded her of no one so much as...Inoue. She gave up trying to parse whatever he had said. "What?"

"I want to be friends again," he blurted out. "If it's okay with you."

To say that Rukia hadn't thought about resuming contact with her old friend was not entirely true. She had thought about it, in fact, quite a lot. She had been stuck in her house for the last two weeks, following an even longer, more boring (if also terrifying) imprisonment. If there was an elaborate, dramatic fantasy to be imagined about anyone and everyone in her life, she had entertained it. It is also to be noted that Rukia had read quite a bit of dramatic manga in the World of the Living. She had imagined countless scenarios that ended with him dying, her dying, both of them dying, confessions of love, professions of hate, and the complete destruction of Soul Society. She had not, however, bothered to consider the case that he might just want to get a drink once in a while or ask for feedback on potential haircuts. Could she even be that sort of friend?

"I'm not sure I'm still the same person you used to know," she said softly, staring at her feet.

He tugged at his ponytail. "It's still not coming out right! I didn't mean to put you on the spot! I just… I just wanted you to know that I didn't talk to you for all that time because it wasn't proper. I mean, I don't care what's proper, but people do, and I didn't want to cause trouble for you, and also, I wanted to see you again someday, so I was trying to avoid getting killed by your brother. But it wasn't because I didn't want to see you! And according to this very large book in the library that I have been consulting, it is Appropriate for an Assistant Captain (active duty or retired) to associate with members of the nobility. Normally, as an unmarried lady, you would require an older, female chaperone, but since you are also a shinigami, most of the standards for unmarried women are waived. Also, your brother just ordered me to. Anyway, I had sort of been… working toward this for a long time, and I was going to tell you as soon as I got my commission, but you were, uh, out of town. And then some things happened."

Rukia was staring at him as if he had managed to grow a second head.

"Look, if I'm addressing you with too much familiarity, just, uh, let me know," he finished up lamely.

"Renji, I understand that you're probably going to have to fake it in front of the real Kuchikis from time to time, but if I ever ask you to address you with 'less familiarity', please just stab me instead, okay?"

He snorted. "Okay. Good."

"And am I to understand, from that rambling dissertation on etiquette, that you got yourself promoted for the express purpose of seeing me again? Or was that just a side benefit?" The speed with which Renji had risen through the ranks was remarkable, but not unheard of. Several of his classmates had beaten him to it. But still… Rukia's stomach clenched. She, herself, had risen absolutely nowhere in the same time. She hoped, desperately, that he would give the second reply.

Instead, he dodged the question. "Oops, here we are! Sixth Division." He started pointing out various features. "That's my office, over there, and we're having the West Training Grounds resurfaced-"

"I know," Rukia tried to interrupt him. "I've been here before."

Renji plowed on determinedly, pointing out various amenities until, "And here's my quarters!" He stuffed the paperwork under one arm so he could get the door. "You just wait out here until…" he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be guarding her. "Shoot. Uh…" he glanced around wildly, but no one seemed to be around. "You better come in, it'll only be a minute." He shoved her through the door, shutting it quickly behind him. "Don't tell the captain you were in here."

They stood in the entrance for a moment, just taking it all in.

"I just moved in," Renji finally explained, shucking his sandals. "Make yourself at home, I'll be right back."

Kaien hadn't actually lived in his quarters, since he and Miyako had a house off-base, but he kept them furnished as a sort of crash pad and general hang-out space, so Rukia had been there many times. Renji's had the same layout- a large main room, a kitchen area off to one side, and a shoji in the back, where Renji had just disappeared, probably leading to his bedroom and bathroom. The difference, however, was that Kaien had owned furniture.

Nothing about this was surprising, to be honest. In their younger days, Rukia had been a magpie, constantly decorating their living quarters with pressed flowers or colorful bits of ephemera she came across. She collected bits and hoarded pieces, you never knew what would turn out to be useful. Renji was the opposite. If he managed to get ahold of something of good quality, something useful, a piece of clothing, a tool, he would take care of it like a precious jewel, trying to wring out all possible utility, but otherwise, he was never much for things. He preferred to be able to carry everything he owned on his person.

It was obvious what his most valuable possession was these days. Against one wall was a sword stand of very simple design, but made of beautiful, polished tigerwood. Zabimaru sat atop it, giving off the aura of a cat curled up in front of a fireplace. Nearby was a small shelf full of oils and whetstones and other sword maintenance paraphernalia, carefully organized.

Allllll the way across the room, against the other wall, was a table that seemed to serve as a desk.

There was some sort sports bag left open near the window, presumably to air out. Rukia peeked in. Futsal gear.

That was it.

She wandered over to the desk. He had dumped all of Byakuya's paperwork there on the way through. A corkboard hung over the desk, pinned with all manner of things. The futsal league schedule. A weekly workout regimen. A hand-drawn diagram of his tattoos, with little marks that she guessed indicated which ones he already had. And some photographs. Renji with Kira and Hinamori, his friends from school, showing off brand-new Squad 5 insignia. Was that Lt. Hisagi, playing a guitar? Possibly from the first and only Seireitei Open Mic Night, an event that would live in infamy. A lot of pictures of hideous men she didn't know, mostly either flexing or making rude gestures. Of course he would have made friends in Squad 11. He made friends wherever he went. And down in the corner, a grainy, yellowed newspaper clipping of her own face, from the social column of some long-ago issue of the Bulletin.

Rukia straightened up abruptly, feeling like she had seen something she shouldn't have. She hadn't been snooping, it was a thing he had hung on his wall, right? For anyone to see?

Renji was sliding the shoji closed again. He had changed out of his shihakusho into a red patterned yukata that, frankly, looked terrible with his hair. Rukia never bothered to criticize his fashion sense. It was more fun to let him walk around in public like this. How had he possibly put on this outfit and decided, 'yes, this looks good'?

"You ready?" he asked, his eyes darting briefly between her and his corkboard curiously.

"When are you getting your butt tattoos?" Rukia asked pointedly. The tension in the room evaporated; she had pulled the classic conversational redirect of Asking A Tattoo Buff About Their Next Tattoo.

"Soon, actually! I just need three consecutive days off, for, you know, recovery, so I have to wait until your brother is back in the office. Assuming he gives me the time off."

"Here's a tip: Don't tell him what it's for."

It was a weeknight, so the restaurant wasn't too crowded, but it was rather loud, and dark, and, like student restaurants everywhere, weirdly cramped. Renji hadn't been here since graduation. He felt the strange compulsion to hunch. "Why is everyone here so short?" he grumbled as they slid into a booth near the back.

"Because they are tiny baby students," Rukia replied, as though she weren't still the shortest one in the place.

"Ahem. Hello, and welcome to Tampopo Ramen," a nervous voice addressed them. "I am your waiter, Keigo. Have you been here before?"

"No, it's my first time!" Rukia chirped cheerfully. "I know a guy named Keigo."

"Yeah, but it's been a while," Renji frowned, squinted at the menu in its smeared plastic holder.

There was a long pause, and then, "Excuse me, sir, but… aren't you a vice-captain?"

Renji froze. "Uh, yeah. Yes. Actually. Can you, uh, be a little quiet about that?" The last thing he wanted was to be swarmed by seniors, desperate to get into the Gotei 13.

"Wow!" Keigo looked about the right age to be a student, but didn't appear to be giving off even a sniffle of spiritual power. "I saw your picture in the Bulletin! Did you fight the ryoka? Were they scary?"

Rukia leaned forward, setting her chin on her interlaced fingers.

"Naw," Renji shrugged. "They turned out to be okay."

"I bet you didn't even see them," Rukia teased, looking him straight in the eye.

He returned her gaze and smirked. "I was standing in the back."

Keigo was definitely confused, so he decided to go back on script. "Do you know what you would like to order, or would you like me to Tell You About Our Menu?"

"I'll have a number two," Renji said, holding up two fingers. It was hard to mess up shoyu. He was still looking at Rukia.

Rukia, for her part, had no time for handsome distractions. "NUMBER SEVEN," she demanded, slamming her hands palm down on the table.

Keigo gasped, and the place went silent. Somewhere, someone dropped a plate.

Renji felt all the blood drain from his face. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. How had he forgotten? How had he not seen this coming?

Keigo cleared his throat. "Ma'am, I am obligated to inform you that the Number 7 Atomic Tan Tan Ramen is the spiciest ramen in all the Seireitei."

Renji groaned, pulled his bandana down over his eyes, and slumped down in his seat as the waiter continued to recite the history of the Number 7, a graphic description of its most recent victims, and current success statistics. Rukia was practically bouncing in her seat.

"...and of course, as I am guessing you know, if you finish it, your meal is free!"

"I will do it!" Rukia proclaimed.

Keigo seemed to have gotten caught in her enthusiasm. "I have never actually seen anyone do it, but I believe in you, ma'am! I will go put in your order. Oh, you also get free unlimited tea for even making the attempt." He scampered off.

"Rukia. You don't have to do this. I told you I would buy you dinner."

"You are doing something even better: you are Witnessing My Glory."

Renji had Witnessed Her Glory before. Stunt eating was not a thing in Inuzuri, where any kind of food was hard to come by. They had happened upon a similar deal at a curry stand in the 32nd on their long journey up through the districts on the way to the Academy. It was extremely fortunate that they were already signed up for entrance exams and on a strict travel schedule, or Rukia would probably, to this day, be wandering the Rukon in search of her next gastronomical challenge.

"Why didn't you just come here back in the Academy days? It woulda been free."

Rukia frowned. "I was worried that maybe I couldn't do it, and I didn't want to fail in front of the other students."

Renji re-adjusted his bandana. "Get real, Rukia! I have yet to see the bowl of food too spicy or greasy or massive for you. It's disgusting, but it's your special gift. Or something."

Keigo had started lining glasses of iced tea up on the table. Rukia made eye contact with him, and held up five fingers. "No ice," she mouthed. He nodded, and flashed her a thumbs up.

"Why are you doing it now? You certainly don't need the free food anymore."

She tasted the iced tea, swishing it in her mouth and trying to decide if she wanted to confide in him. She decided she did. "I need a win."

"Huh?"

"Brother told you, right? About my powers?"

"He said it was slow going."

"It's not slow going. It's zero going. I might be a nobody now."

"It's only been a few weeks! Don't lose hope!"

"I haven't lost hope, but I'm also trying out the idea of life outside of the Gotei 13."

"You would still be a Kuchiki, right?"

She made a noise low in her throat. "Yeah. Dressed up in silks, writing rude haikus, drinking floral tea with the aged."

"You could… go back to the World of the Living," Renji said slowly, his stomach twisting at the thought.

"I won't say I haven't considered it," Rukia said slowly. "What would I do? Go back to human high school? No, thanks. I would have to get… job skills." She frowned. "Isshin said if I wanted to talk about it, he… has some experience in the manner."

"Isshin? Isshin who?"

"Shiba Isshin. Did you know him? He was Captain at the 10th before Captain Hitsugaya."

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I fought him once. Isn't he missing and presumed dead?"

"Hmmm," Rukia said, looking off to the side. "Anyway, as I said, I haven't given up yet. But sitting around on house arrest isn't doing much for my morale. I could just… really use a win right now."

"Yeah. I get it." Renji took a deep breath. "Can I help?"

"Help? You can't help with the Number 7. Its against the rules, and also, your poor tummy couldn't stand it."

"Help with your powers, dummy! I've helped a couple of other people get to shikai, you know, I do know something about this stuff."

Rukia looked thoughtful. "That's not a bad idea. The doctor told me to get lots of rest and keep trying at jinzen. I've been carrying this… this asauchi around with me like a trainee. It's been too long. I need to try more things."

"You can't hear her?" Renji asked softly.

"Not since… not since I gave my powers to Ichigo."

They sat in silence.

Renji shook his head and looked away. "Damn, Rukia, I can't believe you made it through all that without your zanpakutou. Zabimaru is an old grump, but I don't know what I would do without them." He shook his head. "I don't know how you keep surprising me with how damn brave you are, but you've done it again."

Rukia felt her eyes prickling. She didn't feel brave, she felt defective. For the first time, she allowed herself to just think the thought: I miss Sode no Shirayuki. I miss my zanpakuto.

"Here! It! Is!"

Keigo the waiter set a massive bowl of ramen before her. Her nose burned, just inhaling its steam. It had little flags in it. It… sparkled.

"You got this," Renji regarded her with utter seriousness.

"Here I come," Rukia murmured.

"And… smile! Got it!" Keigo turned his soul pager around so they could see the picture. Rukia's eyes looked bloodshot and her smile was more than a little manic.

"Perfect," Rukia approved.

"Great! I'm going to print this out and post it on the Wall of Flame. Ma'am, that was amazing. I am so grateful to be your service staff."

Rukia was so swamped with adolescent admirers that she didn't notice Renji catch the waiter's sleeve. "Hey, man. Would you mind getting me a copy of that picture?"

"No problem, Vice Captain, sir!" Keigo agreed. "Please bring her back any time!"

"Any time she wants," Renji agreed.

~ end part 1 ~