Last night he had dreamed she was still there. He had felt her fingers entwined with his, the soft silkiness of her hair, the warmth of her small body. Her smile, to him as bright as the sun and tinged with sadness at a past which could not be retrieved, her large eyes, so wise and kind. Everything.

She had been there with him, promising that they would never be separated, touching his face gently, reassuringly as she spoke, her voice like music to him…And then he had woken and nothing had remained. Only the painful memory of her smile, her touch, her warmth in an empty bed and a cold lonely room.

Afterwards he had found himself silently making his way through the house to another room, one with a sleeping girl in it, almost an exact replica of Hisana, and as he had watched her small form, her chest rising and falling gently, he marvelled at how peaceful she looked, how similar she was to her sister…

How she could sleep in the same house as the 'brother' who had abandoned her to die for the sake of family honour.

Part of him, the part that screamed to forget his noble blood, wanted to curl up in shame at the way he had treated her, at the way he had ignored and sidestepped Hisana's last request, managing to convince himself that taking her in was enough.

Because to tell the truth, he had resented the girl sleeping before him deeply; she was the living memory of his beloved wife, who he had risked everything for. Every day she reminded him that he no longer had Hisana. Even though she didn't mean to, even though she had had no idea until recently about anything, he had still resented her and the pain of the memories she had evoked within him. The thought of how petty he had been still ashamed him.

He couldn't understand how she could look at him with such…love, such pride. How even after he had explained to her she could hold his hand and smile at him, how she could greet him every morning and ask how he was feeling, help him with his clumsy attempts to make amends.

It had taken him a long time to realise that it was only him who was making the memories unpleasant and painful. It had taken him far too long indeed to understand that this innocent, forthright, strong girl could not be made to take the blame for something that had happened long in the past and she had no control, or even knowledge of. That in a way she was a blessing. She allowed him to keep Hisana close. Every time he looked at her he could smile inwardly and remember what he'd had, and how, in a way a small piece of that was continued to this day.

He had once heard one member of his squad comment that "half a loaf of bread was better than nothing". He hadn't quite understood how true that comment was until recently, but now he thought, looking at the woman who in so many ways was still a child, unready for what she had been forced to experience, that he finally understood.

He might not have Hisana anymore, but he had someone else now. Someone who carried a part of Hisana within her, and there was no point mourning what could have been when he had a perfectly good reason to live now.

Hisana had been his pride, his joy, his love. That didn't mean Rukia could be the same, he just had to allow her to fill the mould that had been left for her.

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