Author's note: Hi, I'm back after a loooong hiatus. I thank everyone who has been supporting this fic. It's so good to be back! Now I have time to write regularly as I wish!!!

shiromuku: traditional wedding kimono; sado: tea ceremony; buyo: Japanese traditional dance; ikebana: flower arrangement

Chapter 10: Shadows and Mirrors

Rukia looked into the mirror and stared quietly at the unfamiliar figure who gazed passively back at her with hooded eyes. It sat perfectly still in the wooden frame, enveloped in heavy layers of white brocade, delicate and pale like an expensive porcelain doll on display. Her face was unreadable; a white mask, flushed at the cheeks with exquisitely crafted crimson lips parted slightly. Rukia lifted a languid hand to brush back a stray strand of hair. A slight movement and the gold combs that adorned her elaborately woven buns caught light, crowning her raven hair with a golden halo.

For a brief moment, Rukia wondered if Sode no Shirayuki had materialized before her. She shook her head. Her blade's presence was chilling and cruel, but Rukia only felt fatigue. The thought of her blade made Rukia frown and the mask before her became distorted. Her blade had not spoken to her since that night.

It had already been a month.

The warmth of summer had fled and the autumn chill crept in slowly in its wake. Some of the trees gave in early this year, already blazing into a glory of crimson, orange and brown. Maple leaves danced wildly in the cool crisp air, carpeting the roads into an ochre trail.

Autumn had announced its presence and the wedding too, had come.

Kuchiki Byakuya, head of the Kuchiki house, Captain of the 6th Division, the most sought after yet elusive bachelor in Soul Society, would be marrying his adopted sister from Rukongai, the sister of his late wife, an officer of Gotei Thirteen, a well-know figure in Soul Society for the significant role she played in Aizen's betrayal and her close friendship she had with the infamous ryokai, Kurosaki Ichigo.

That was how controversial her wedding sounded to the inhabitants of Soul Society, but if anyone had anything to say against it, none voiced it, not within earshot anyway. "Marrying his sister, and one from Rukongai!" Someone would hiss viciously and every now and then, a disapproving cluck of the tongue would follow. That was just market talk or upper society gossip. They were all the same, vicious, scandalized and whispered when they thought no one was listening. But of course, someone was always listening.

The wedding preparation had however, caused quite an open uproar. It was after all the wedding of a noble house and no expenses had been spared in its preparation. Top artisans of all crafts were hired for the wedding; kimono makers, sake brewers, ikebana masters, sado masters, top banquet chefs and the list went on and on with no end in sight. Kuchiki servants scurried around the market everyday, ordering papers in one hand and mountains of packages and parcels in the other. The upper society was up and about in frenzied excitement. Guests came knocking upon the Kuchikis' door in waves, offering congratulations with their expensive gifts and money. Even at the lower side of Soul Society, Rukongai buzzed with anticipation as word of yet another Rukongai marrying into a noble household spread like wild flames.

It was all exciting and frenzied to everyone except the ones getting married. Byakuya stood calm amidst the excitement like the eye of the storm. Even then, occasionally, his reiatsu would flare ever so slightly as he lift a finger to press upon his temple. His servants and subordinates could not help but notice the line between his brow were beginning to settle in permanently, scarring his perfectly expressionless face. They knew to avoid the eye of the storm. Experience and prudence told them, a place seemingly calm did not mean it was therefore perfectly safe.

Rukia was however, blissfully oblivious to the frenzied preparation and contagious excitement in Soul Society. Her torture however, was of another kind. For the past one month, she was confined in the branch house belonging to the Kuchiki elder ladies. Unable to take a step beyond the gate and ever under the watchful vigilance of the elders, she passed the one month in a state of zombie-like daze.

Before sunrise, she would be dragged out of bed by the chattering and tongue-clucking ladies and forced into a formal kimono that left her gasping for air. After breakfast, a lineup of lessons awaited her. First was sado and two hours of tea ceremony would leave her legs numb in pain and the elder lady faint at the way Rukia sloshed her tea about. All she could manage was to leave green stains on the tatami mats. Then came buyo, which Rukia found ironic considering how after cutting her legs off blood circulation, the elder ladies had expect her to dance. Nonetheless, her dance sensei was mildly impressed at her talent for traditional Japanese dance, That said, she did comment that Rukia's dance seemed somewhat murderous in intent. "Elegant and beautiful, yes," Her sensei would remark thoughtfully and shudder, "but also very murderous. Work on that, would you?" Rukia merely nodded politely. Her shikai was after all, a dance.

Her subsequent sensei were not that lucky. Her music lessons left the elder lady in tears because she broke three antique shamisen in three lessons. Ikebana and calligraphy lessons were less catastrophic, but that was because you could only do this much damage with flowers and ink. Literary lessons often leave Rukia feeling brain-dead and bewildered. She could not understand why a poem about a frog leaping into a pond was, in her sensei's words, "a work of remarkable genius." Neither could she understand why Genji was considered a "stud" (that was a word she learned in the mortal world from a little black box called TV) among the Heian court ladies. Handiwork classes left her with nothing but pricked and swollen fingers.

Her favorite lessons were probably before lunch and dinner when she would be sent to the kitchen to help out. That was when she would learn how too cook. She did not burn down the kitchen as the elder ladies expected that she would, much to their relief and surprise. On the contrary, Rukia did pretty well. "We used to cook back in Rukongai," Rukia piped happily as she rubbed her sleeves across her perspiring forehead, glad to be doing some bodily work. "With whatever we could get our hands on of course. Cooking was always a good thing. It meant no starving for the night!" And the elder ladies would shake their heads in disapproval and some would feel rather sick as they wonder what Rukia used to cook in the gutters. Oh they wouldn't want to know…

What she hated most were the classes after dinner, which often left her feeling rather uncomfortable and embarrassed. She still remember the first class where the elder ladies stripped her for inspection.

"Uh… I'm feeling rather cold." Rukia mumbled in embarrassment as she tried to cover her naked chest and crotch and the elder ladies slapped her hands away.

"Lie down on the futon." One ordered and Rukia meekly comply. It was impossible to feel brave and rebellious while naked.

"Spread your legs, child."

"W-WHAT!?"

"I said spread your legs."

"But! But-" Rukia's complains were lost as the ladies held her down and pried open her legs. She gasped at the pain that penetrated her nether region and she felt tears burning in her eyes.

The elder lady nodded in approval and announced, "Virgin." One of them then jotted on a piece of paper.

Humiliated, Rukia wrestled out from the grips of the elder ladies and shouted angrily, "Of course I am! Who the hell do you think I am? A whore!?"

"One never knows." The elder lady answered calmly as she motioned to the other elder ladies to dress Rukia. "After all, you lived with Abarai Renji in your Rukongai days and took up residence with Kurosaki Ichigo during your missions to the mortal world. We were obliged to make sure that you are of appropriate condition to be received into the Kuchiki family."

Rukia's face burned like hell.

The elder lady gave her a stern glance, "Now stop your yakking and learn. We are going to teach you the affairs of the bedroom."

Rukia stared blankly at her and stuttered, "I- I'm sorry? I'm not sure if I got that…"

The elder lady rolled her eyes, "The art of pleasuring your husband, you daft girl."

"WHAT?"

A vein throbbed at Rukia's temple and she resisted the urge to massage it. It would mess up her makeup and send the elder ladies into hysteria. She groaned loudly instead. No matter how hard she tried to forget them, the contents of the lessons were always there, burnt deep into the depths of her brain. How could she do… do... do that with Nii-sama? Was… was that what he expected of her? Must she do as the elder ladies taught her to? Her face flushed at the thought.

Out in the courtyard, a distant crunching sound of feet upon gravel could be heard. Rukia took no notice of it till a gruff voice came from behind.

"This doesn't suit you."

Rukia spun around and gasped, "Renji!"

The tall figure shifted uncomfortably and averted his gaze. He didn't mean it, well, not every word of it. She looked beautiful, like a doll. But she looked brittle to the slightest touch too. That he did not like.

Rukia's face beamed, happy to see a familiar face after a month of seclusion. Happy to see Renji. She rose up quickly, gathering the heavy brocade around her feet as she ran to meet him.

"Renjji!" She cried as she jumped off the platform. The soft ground never came and she felt herself suspended in mid-air, supported by a pair of strong arms grabbing her by the waist.

"Renji?" She stared at him, confused as Renji held her by an arm's length away.

Gently, he placed her back onto the platform and gave a wry smile. "You wouldn't want to ruin your wedding kimomo with soil, would you?"

"Uh… right…" Rukia's shoulder slumped, slightly disappointed with Renji's cool response. "My wedding kimono…"

An awkward silence settled in between them. After sometime, Renji gave a discreet cough and cleared his throat.

"So… this is where they have been keeping you for the past one month?" He asked.

"Yes." Rukia nodded. "Why are here, Renji?"

Renji ignored her question, "You would think they are going to execute you again the way they are trying to keep you hidden from sight."

"It's tradition, Renji." Rukia explained, without much conviction. She didn't understand the point of the seclusion anyway. She hated every single day. It was confusing to look forward to the end of the seclusion every sunset while dreading the day of the wedding every sunrise.

Renji scoffed, "Tradition my ass. They just don't want us poking around. Kuchiki Taichou doesn't want us messing with things again and running away with his bride."

"Renji…" Rukia warned.

Renji turned upon her, suddenly very angry. "Do you have any idea how hard it had been for me to find you? Do you have any idea how secretive they were about your whereabouts!?"

Rukia took a step back and Renji followed, his height towering over her as he stepped onto the platform. The room looked smaller now with him in it.

Rukia gulped.

"No? No? Well, let me tell you. No one, not a single soul in Soul society knows where the hell you were! I followed the servants whenever they came to town and finally, finally one led me to this place!" Renji threw his hands up in frustration. "And guess what? They had this place charmed with boundaries! I couldn't cross without setting the alarms off with my reiatsu! I had to wait till today to get in because they had to remove the charms for the wedding preparations. Now do you have an idea?"

Renji huffed angrily and Rukia stared, a little taken back by his sudden outburst. A smile spread slowly across her face and she laid a gentle hand upon Renji's arm, "I know. I know. Thank you Renji."

Renji stared at her hand and she gave a assuring squeeze, smiling at him. Guilt washed across Renji, "I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't shout at you."

Rukia shook her head, "There is no need to apologize."

Renji's hand engulfed Rukia's and held it gently. "Rukia, tell me honestly. What are they doing to you this time?"

"Renji… It is only a wedding, not an execution." Rukia stated slowly and carefully.

"Only a wedding? Only a wedding?" Echoed Renji, incredulous. "Rukia, did they force you into it? What did they threaten you with this time?"

"Nothing Renji." Rukia slipped her hand out of Renji's grasp. "Nothing at all. I agreed out of my own free will."

Renji was starting to get exasperated, "Rukia… you have to tell me. You got to tell me! I can't let- well… you-" He paused, unsure. "I can't do anything if you don't tell me."

Rukia peered at him, something did not feel right. Renji was planning something.

"Renji… what-"

"Look, I want to know, so just answer me. Do you love Kuchiki Taichou?

Rukia's eyes widened, "What? What are y-"

Footsteps scurrying along the corridor caught their attention and both heads turned in unison to the voices coming nearer.

"Rukia-sama? Rukia-sama?"

"The waiting ladies are coming!" Rukia gasped.

Renj cursed under his breath and grabbed Rukia by the shoulders, "So? Do you love Kuchiki Taichou?"

"Renji," She cried. "This isn't the time!"

"Yes or no? Rukia!"

"I… I…" Rukia's eyes darted fearfully to the door as the footsteps drew nearer.

Renji groaned in exasperation, "Alright, do you like Kuchiki Taichou?"

"Of course I do!" Rukia gasped indignantly, her full attention upon Renji now. "He is my brother!!!"

"Brother, you say?" Renji repeated and Rukia clasped a hand over her mouth, realizing what she had done. A grin came upon Renji's face as he stepped back into the courtyard and Rukia panicked.

"Renji! No!"

"Rukia-sama? We're coming in…"

Renji was retreating and Rukia followed anxiously, but her kimono kept her from keeping with his pace. "Renji… what are you thinking!?"

She watched as Renji leapt effortlessly onto the ledge of the wall.

He peered down at her, "Wait for us Rukia. We will come to get you. You hear?"

"What?! Wait for!? US? What do you mean by US!? Renji! Renji!"

But he was gone. A shriek was heard and anxious scuffling sounds came from behind.

"Rukia-sama!!! Rukia-sama!!! What are you doing out there! You'll ruin the kimono!!! You'll get a cold!!! Come back into the room!" Rukia did not even notice when two firm hands settled upon her shoulder and directed her back into the room. The waiting ladies sat her down forcefully and clucked their tongues disapprovingly as they fussed around her.

"Oh thank god the hems are all right." One sighed in relief after a brief examination. "We must put on your head dress now, Rukia-sama. The carriage is waiting and we must not miss the auspicious hour."

Rukia wasn't listening. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Oi!" Shouted Renji anxiously as he banged heavily upon the desk. The sleeping shinigami, Rin, jumped and automatically wiped his drool with his sleeve, eyes darting around in a daze. They came into focus upon a raving red-haired man on the other side of the desk.

"Abarai fuku-taichou?" He smiled groggily as he rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry, I had to pull an all-nighter last-"

Renji wasn't interested in what the 12th division officer had to say, he was running for time. "I need a hell butterfly now."

"Now? But I wasn't give the order to-"

"It was a last minute order. An emergency, I need a hell butterfly now."

Rin frowned, visibly confused. "Um… ok. But I need your authorization papers."

Renji growled and grabbed the shinigami by the collar. "LOOK, I SAID IT IS AN EMERGENCY. I DO NOT HAVE THE FUCKING PAPERS. GIVE ME A HELL BUTTERFLY."

The shinigami quivered like a leaf and raised both hands in surrender. "All right, all right! But I need to know at least upon whose order and for what purpose before I'm authorized to issue a hell butterfly!"

"Kuchiki Byakuya." Replied Renji with gritted teeth. "6th division. Wedding purposes."

"Ok, got it got it! Now let me go!"

Renji released his grip and Rin slumped in his seat, relieved.

"Now work." Renji commanded, a lethal glean in his eyes.

Rin gulped, "Yes."

"Be quick." Said Renji as he watched the shinigami typed frantically away, eyes scanning the computer screen fearfully. "You don't want to ruin Kuchiki Taichou's wedding, do you?"

Rin gasped loudly and shook his head anxiously. "Oh no! Nonononono! I wouldn't dare to."

Renji grinned. Oh yeah? But I do…

Kuchiki Byakuya stood at the gate of the shrine with his entourage of priests, shrine maidens and clan members, their eyes fixed upon the gravel path that stretched into the distant horizon before them. The early morning sun peeked through the canopy of trees and made its slow ascend into the sky. Shafts of golden light came streaming through the gaps of the leaves and a golden carpet came unfurled upon their feet.

One of the priests observed the position of the sun and motioned to the younger priest. The younger priest nodded and came to Byakuya's side.

"Kuchiki-sama, they should be here anytime soon. The hour draws near."

Byakuya nodded, his face devoid of emotions as he stared ahead, his cool demeanor betraying none of the turmoil that was brewing within him. He felt nervous, unsure and agitated. His fingers twitched at his side, the only betrayal of his emotions.

This is ridiculous. He thought. To feel this way. Ridiculous.

He had done this before. At this very spot. Waiting for the very same purpose. That was many, many years ago.

But he always remember.

It was a beautiful spring morning with pink petals dancing silently in the breeze and the air was filled with the sweet fragrance of cherry blossoms. Hisana smiled at him, her white silhouette blending beautifully into the backdrop of soft, pastel pink as she reached forward and gently brushed a petal from his hair.

The sound of hooves and wheels approaching abruptly pulled him out of his thoughts. He narrowed his eyes into the far distance of the horizon and within moments, a carriage could be seen with an entourage of women following closely. A sense of déjà vu came over him as he watched the carriage ambled closer and he suppressed the wild panic arising from the pits of his stomach.

The carriage drew to a stop a few feet before him and two waiting ladies hurried forward to lay a white cushioned footstool by the side of the carriage. They knelt by the side of the footstool, steadying it with their hands as another waiting lady opened a red lacquered umbrella above them.

"Rukia-sama, we are here." Said another as she drew aside the bamboo folds.

A white sleeve emerged from within the carriage, gently grasping the supporting arm of the waiting lady as small white feet stepped upon the footstool. Byakuya watched the small white silhouette stepping out from the carriage with the careful guidance of the waiting ladies. The figure straightened and stared ahead, towards his direction and Byakuya suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

It was Hisana. The delicate figure wrapped in a pure white shiromuku, shaded under an umbrella as she slowly ambled forward with one hand laid upon the supporting arm of a waiting lady.

The figure came before him and his eyes met hard, burning amethyst. A wave of revulsion washed over him. He had done it again, to mistake Rukia for her sister, his beloved wife. It took all his strength to not avert his gaze.

"Rukia." He acknowledged.

"Nii-sama..." Rukia greeted quietly. Behind her, one of the elder ladies cleared her throat loudly.

"Byakua-sama." She corrected quickly.

Byakuya merely nodded and turned away to face the shrine gate. His mouth was dry and revulsion churned within him. He felt sick. Rukia took her place next to him, her face blank as she stared ahead. He saw steel in her gaze.

This is not Hisana. This is not Hisana… so why I do keep seeing Hisana in her?

It was true that Rukia looked like a mirror copy of Hisana, but that was only a fleeting illusion. It was clear as daylight that Rukia could hardly be anymore different from her sister.

Hisana was frail, soft and delicate. Her gaze was poignant and her smile, rueful. She walked with the gait of a fragile porcelain doll and held her gaze low. Her voice was barely above a whisper. She was tormented with guilt and fear, that was why she never loved. She thought she did not deserve any of it. Hisana never loved him and Byakuya knew. Till the very end, she never loved him. She was grateful for him, that he gave her a dream, but she never loved him.

Rukia was… different. Rukia was hard as steel and stubborn as an ox. Her eyes were piercing and her gaze was sharp. She carried herself like a warrior, with her head held and a vigilant hand upon her zanpakutou. There was something cheeky about the way she smiled, boyish the way her voice sounded and manly the way she spoke. And Byakuya knew, Rukia loved and she loved with a passion. He could see he it in her laughter with Kaien, her petty squabbles with Renji and the way her face lit up whenever she was with Ichigo.

There was nothing soft about her, nothing feminine, nothing delicate.

Nothing like Hisana.

Yet, before Byakuya, she metamorphosed into the silent girl who kept her gaze low trailing dutifully and fearfully behind her brother.

Like a shadow.

His shadow. Hisana's shadow.

The crisp sound of bells ringing signaled for the entourage to enter the shrine. The older priest shook the bells as he marched ahead and the younger one followed, waving a baton of white paper strips. The shrine maidens came next, each carrying a tray of sake and cups and Byakuya and Rukia followed with their entourage closely behind.

A sudden tremor rippled through the air, quick and brief as lightning and Byakuya's eyes narrowed. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Rukia jerked in shock.

"Renji…!" She whispered, her lips trembling. Renji's reiatsu was gone, at that split moment. She could not find him anyway in Soul Society.

If I felt that, there is no way that Nii-sama didn't! Nii-sama, he must kn-

"Renji." She heard him say. Her eyes darted to Byakuya and her mouth went dry when she met his cold gaze. "He left Soul Society, without permission."

"Nii-sama! Please! Let me go to him! I'll bring him back! I-" Rukia flinched when Byakuya's gaze hardened.

"You will remain where you are, Rukia." Byakuya's voice was calm, but his reiatsu pulsated ominously. "You are not going anywhere till the wedding is over."

"Nii-sama…" Rukia pleaded.

"Is there something wrong, Kuchiki-sama?" Asked the waiting lady behind them as she peered at them. "We have to move to the sanctuary before the auspicious hour is over."

Byakuya nodded curtly and turned to Rukia, "Till the wedding is over. Whatever happens after, is not of my concern."

"Nii-sama…" Rukia knew his word was final. There was nothing to do, but wait.

"Please take a rest here till the wedding reception and call for us if you need anything, Kuchiki-sama."

Byakuya nodded at the servant, "You may take your leave."

He closed his eyes in relief when he heard the door slid shut. The ceremony was over, all that was left was the wedding reception in the evening. His eyes darted to Rukia who was kneeling silently by the table. His gaze lingered briefly before he closed them again.

"Nii-sama."

Byakuya opened his eyes and stared at the small figure before him, his usually expressionless face replaced by a rare display of genuine surprise. Rukia knelt before him in her white kimono undergarment and her shiromuku was laid out on the tatami mat. She was bowing so low that her forehead touched the ground.

"Nii-sama… Please forgive me." Rukia lifted her head and smiled ruefully at him.

"Rukia… You…" Byakuya could hear his own voice shaking as he stared into her misting eyes. He wanted to turn away from her gaze, her face.

"Nii-sama," Her lips were quivering. "I… I have to go. I'm sorry I couldn't stay."

Byakuya watched as Rukia stood up and backed away from him. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes as she kept apologizing. He took a step towards her and she recoiled sharply.

"I'm sorry, Nii-sama." She shook her head. "Please understand. I beg you to understand. I have to bring Renji back. I have to go!"

Rukia reached for her headdress and tore it away. She let it fall to the ground as she dashed out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. Byakuya listened as the footsteps faded into silence and his gaze came to the headdress lying in a crumple by the door. He reached for it.

Silence filled the room. Outside, the rhythmic sound of bamboo hitting bamboo could be heard over the burbling of a spring.

Kuchiki Byakuya stared blankly at the white brocade in his hands.

What do you do when your shadow leaves you?