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Pairings: Rangiku and Gin, Ulquiorra and Orihime, Rukia and Ichigo, Retsu and Jushiro, Grimmjow and Soi Fon, Kisuke and Youruichi, along with Hitsugia and Momo.

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Drip, drip, drip.

Thunder clapped in the distance, lightning arcing across the sky in flashes of light. Dark clouds brewed on the horizon, heavy with rain.

Children abandoned games in the dust, running inside. Shops closed up, windows slammed, doors clicked shut. The streets where plunged into silence but for the light pattering of the water falling and hitting the ground.

It almost never rained in the Sereitei. When it did people fled inside all over, inside of the Gotei 13 and all throughout the rest of Soul Society. Sometimes the rain just couldn't be ignored- when it came down heavy enough people fled for the indoors.

The streets were deserted.

Dark clouds shadowed two shinigami souls, running out of the forest of the Rukon district. A mane of flowing orange hair trialed behind the figure in the lead, her blondish locks quickly becoming soaked. Behind her zipped a man with grey hair, eyes squinted shut and yet somehow he didn't run into any trees.

The woman stopped when she spotted an old, run down abounded hut. She stopped for a moment to point it out, yelling to her counterpart. After a few words the two seemed to vanish. Not much longer later, a thin curl of smoke drifting up from the rafters of the house.

"It's getting late. I should go."

Rangiku Matsamoto looked out at the sky, filled with dark brewing clouds. She wondered to herself how she had failed to notice the rain clouds tremling on the horizon right up until the moment it had started to rain. But then, of course, she knew the answer.

Gin Ichimaru had a way of making her neglect her surroundings.

The war was bad for her. He had left her, had betrayed her. And just like when they were young, he would show up out of the blue like he hadn't left at all, with no explanations. Except, now it was dangerous. But Matsamoto had never really strongly regarded dangers when it came to her personal life- she liked to live close to the edge if not on it; that was why she drank, after all.

That afternoon it had been the second time he had come to her. She had been sent out to the very edge of the Rukon district by Hitsugia, who spouted something about unrest. She had looked around, but nothing had really be wrong except for a small gambling match in a bar that had gotten a little out of hand. It had easily been resolved.

Rangiku was then left with two options. Option number one- return to squad ten to do more paperwork. Or, option number two- make good on the fact that her captain hadn't actually given her more of a set return time than "I will expect a full written report on this tomorrow at noon."

It wasn't a hard choice- she had gone with the section option and then had a nice little stroll into the wilderness beyond civilization- out into the forests.

She had taken a moment to herself to just lie out by a pond, the soft chirping of the birds soothing her eyelids closed.

"Well it's been ah while, huh Ran-chan?"

Her eyes had flown open when she heard Gin speak to her. He had been there, in the flesh, bent at the waist and grinning at her like he had never left at all. She hadn't pressed him for answers- she had just told him to leave. She was too confused to fight him. She too careful about him to call for help. And she was much too in love with him to ever turn him in, despite his betrayal to her.

"Aw, don be like that, Ran'. I jus wanna take a lil' break is all."

And though he wasn't telling her the whole truth- was he ever?- she had let him. She had closed her eyes, letting her hand fall from her zanpakto, and then waited. After a moment, she had felt the air stir beside her, the rustle of the grass close to her ears.

He just lay there by her side, quietly, like he had used to.

She wondered to herself if maybe she was dreaming. He hadn't been with her like that in so, so long. The fact that he was actually so close next to her, without talking, without doing anything… It was nice.

It was also scary.

"What are you doing here?" She eventually asked, the sound tired and worn out- like a violin that hadn't been tuned in a long time and was clearing itself of dust.

He hadn't answered her. He had simply leaned over, until he had her trapped, hands braced beside her ears, knees on the outsides of her own. "Why do ya' always gotta ask questions?" His breath fanned out over her lips, hot and humid.

"To see if one time or another you won't avoid them."

His kiss was surprisingly gentle for a man of his intensity, his smirk gone for once to be replaced with a gentle frown- something much more meaningful than any smile from him could ever be.

The green of the world around them had become all there was- the sparkling blue of the water next to them melting into the sky. For once, just once, in the middle of the stirrings of the cold distance that would become war, they could be themselves.

They had kissed and talked of idle things in the sweet scent of the afternoon, hands linked between them as they watched the clouds roll overhead. She didn't press him for answers. In turn he didn't press her for much of anything other than company.

The thunder had shattered their little world, though, and soon they were running. They had found an abandoned hut, taking refuge in it, Gin building up a small fir in the middle of the room.

Rangiku looked out at the sky, frowning, and then spoke softly. "It's getting late. I should go."

They both knew that wasn't what she was really saying.

"Yeah. Yer right, I s'pose. Best be on yer way."

You should go.

I am.

He had taken a step forward to kiss her one last time before stepping back out into the rain. But as his hand cupped the back of her neck they both stopped, just inches away from one another, and then Rangiku had frowned. Gin didn't, his smirk was still present, but that didn't mean anything. They could both feel it- the moment had turned bitter. A kiss before he left would be like a peck of acid, and so they both realized he should leave without anything more than their words. He did.

In another world, the bars of a prison cell kept a bright orange bird from singing. Her feathers were drenched in her own sorrows and pain. She had never been in a place so dry and cold before- so hostile and vile.

She was molding from the inside out.

Then there was the tortured soul who had his heart wrenched from his chest, his tears imprinted on his catatonic face. He would never laugh or smile, and unlike the bird he could not long for the sun he had never even seen. He could long only for the sun inside a cage- the bird that built a nest inside the gaping cavity inside his chest.

But it was sick of him to want her.

"You will eat it- every last bight."

"No."

She was stubborn, too, to a point where his admiration turned to frustration.

"I will tie you down and force it all down your throat, woman."

"… Fine."

But even the sun could break.

He watched her from the shadows the nights she cried herself to sleep. She was alone, and her happy heart was filling with the bitter traces of melancholy. He was only helping her to worsen, as he constantly broke her down with words as cold and nipping as the frostbite that was sure to come to her if she did not become more obedient in the future- once winter came, she would need to listen in order to be given any form of heat.

Still, though, when he did not picture the destruction she would surely bring on herself he would think her name to himself, a flower growing amongst the weeds of his dead world.

Orihime.

He had orders to strip her of herself and then build her back from her destruction as a perfect soldier. He was the perfect soldier she would be molded after, and as a perfect soldier he had no choice but to follow orders.

"They will all die. And it will be all your fault."

He broke the sun.

And watched as her tears came, hot and thick and without stop, just like the rain that poured outside.

He knew the meaning of hate then, because he hated himself.

In a world full of color and sound, the world where things lived and thrive in the new age, it still rained. The rain came down in that world and in the minds of those living there- another orange haired being caught in the downpour. He sat on the curb, looking up at the sky, waiting for a glimpse of the moon.

He had a lot on his mind.

It was times like those he needed someone to come and stop the rain, to dry it, and let him be in peace. But the moon wasn't out- it had disappeared from the sky.

Rukia was still in Soul Society. And he didn't think she was coming back.

He sighed; looking up at the sky, not caring that his own face was splattered with the raindrops falling from the clouds up above. "I don't even know what to think anymore." He muttered to himself. "Without her here to think it through for me."

In the Soul Society, Rukia herself was looking up at the cloud filled sky, waiting for her captain to get back from the hospital- all the humidity wasn't good for him, so she had to sit and wait for him until the rain let up.

She wondered how Ichigo was doing.

She thought to herself that his mind wasn't probably as doused in rain as the land around her, or her own insides for once.

Her captain, meanwhile, was laying in the room that had become like a second home to him. He was just so sick; he was always there, for some reason or another. He didn't let it show, but it really did frustrate Jushiro. He wanted to be out doing things, too, though he really had come to live with being sick.

Retsu Unahana was the best healer there was. She was smiling, polity, hovering over his bare chest as she applied some sort of salve. You could see it in her eyes, though, her worry. He was sure that she was the only person other than himself who knew, but it was clear she had figured out that he was getting worse.

He started coughing, suddenly, the violent movement wracking through his body in a series of waves. She drew back, still smiling, and brushed away a droplet of water that hadn't fallen from the sky from her face. She wouldn't let him see her tears. She didn't want to worry him. She knew he would be just fine.

"You mustn't worry about me." Ukitake breathed, smiling away her concern once he had composed himself. "I'll be fine."

She knelt be his side, and nodded gently. "Of course."

There was a slight pause as she went back to her treatment.

He smiled at her when she opened her eyes, looking down at him. They had known each other for so long. So long that nether could seem to recall what it was like before the other.

It wasn't a surprise when Unahana firmly pressed her lips to his, pushing his raised head back into the pillow. "You should rest." She whispered to his lips. "You need to regain your strength."

He had surprised her when he stepped out of character for a moment to wrap an arm around her, his thumb brushing her jaw before settling over one of the vertebra in her neck. "I will rest in due time." He mad muttered. He drew her lips back to his, ignoring the small trickle of blood that stained her pale kiss with his life force.

In the world without life at all, simply pure force, two beings lay basking in the light of the moon, not caring that they were becoming soaked. The woman was bleeding from a wound dipped into her arm, her eyes narrowed and yet still so far away. The man lay with a wound cut deep into his thigh, blood rolling over his hakama to soak into the sand below him.

"You'll have to go back." Grimmjow muttered, scowling up at the moon. "This was supposed to be a scouting mission, right? Yer gonna have to go back."

Soi Fon looked at him from the corner of her eye for a long moment, taking him in, before casting her gaze back to the moon. "I know."

"You ain't gonna come back here. And I ain't gonna follow you."

Once again she regarded him for a long, long moment. And then, just as she had before, looked back up at the moon as if searching for something there. "I know."

"And then we ain't ever gonna see each other again."

This time she rolled over, grabbing his shoulder and forcing up onto his knees, slamming her mouth down on his to slide their lips together in the slickness of the rain. "I know." She ground out.

"Make the best of it while we can?" He growled, nipping the skin along her neck, eyes narrowed and brimming with animalistic concentration and desire.

"That's to be assumed. You are an idiot for a feline."

Her usual insult didn't have any effect- the rain dampened her words to the point where the meant almost nothing but longing.

Back in the world of breath, another feline prowled the interior of the shop Urahara had come to posses. Recently turned back into a human, Yoruichi paced over the floors again and again as she waited for someone to come home. She had just returned from the Soul Society to find no one about- her planned escape from the rain ruined when she found the downpour to be present in both worlds.

"Yoruichi."

She spun around when Kisuke made his presence known, quickly coming into the shop and locking the door behind him.

"Where are Tesia and the brats?"

He shrugged. "Some indoor play ground."

Yoruichi huffed, plopping down on the floor, crossing her arms and huffing. "I came here to escape the rain, but it's even worse." She complained. She suddenly smirked, looking up at Kisuke, an idea coming to mind. "Want to have a race, Kisuke? I could kick your ass in three seconds flat."

He didn't rise to the challenge, which tipped her off to the fact that something was wrong. "Hey… what's wrong with you?"

He looked up at her, from under the shadow of his hat, and smiled dryly. "Today was the day I let Miyu out of the Hornet's nest." He said, slumping against the door. "I was thinking about dropping in unexpectedly to see if he's invented anything useful yet."

And then she realized what he was really saying. I'm tired of not being allowed to go home. I miss home.

"You could have come with me to poke around and laugh at him." The man put on a phony smile, beaming so brightly that he had to squint his eyes closed.

I miss you.

"Kisuke…" She came to his side and sat down, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

He had simply let her- the icy tangibility of the cold misty rain outside like some sort of wall around their shop.

In the Soul Society, the man of ice himself , Toshiro Hitsugia, was walking down the halls of the fourth squad, under the pretense of visiting Jushiro Ukitake to check on his condition in the humidity. In reality, he was visiting his childhood friend, Momo Hinumori.

She wasn't completely right, so she wasn't supposed to get visitors. Well, that's what they told him. He knew that she was confused, but it wasn't like she had lost her mind. She would be okay, with some time.

Or at least, that's what he told himself.

He stepped into her room silently, noticing with a mixture of relief and annoyance that there was no nurse or guard. Weren't they supposed to be looking out for her, there for her every need? Wasn't someone supposed to be protecting her? He had to admit, though, it made his visit to her a lot easier.

She was so pale- so frail.

He came to her bedside and sat down at a chair that was stationed there, crossing his arms and looking down at her. An IV drip was hung up beside hi head, the long clear tube from the bag curling down to a needle that was embedded in her arm.

He didn't like it. He wanted to take the needle out; Hinumori had always hated needles. But it was for the best that he left it. He had hurt her enough trying to protect her, hadn't he?

"Momo." He looked down at her, eyes closed, peacefully breathing. He leaned forward until his face was pressed into the mattress of her cot, his hair lightly falling onto her exposed arm.

He stayed there, in that position, until he realized the sun was setting. Rain had started to fall, he didn't know when, and the dark clouds were blotting out the sky. He had sent Rangiku out on a wild goose chase just to get some time with Momo, but she would probably be getting back soon and would wonder where he was.

He stood, about to leave, and to have a word with the front desk about Momo- the whole time he had been there, not once had anyone stopped in to check on her.

"Sh… Shiro?"

He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide.

She was awake.

"What… what are you doing here?"

He turned, looking back at the girl. She was sitting up in bed, her eyes slightly blank, dark circles around them. She had lost weight- her cheekbones really did stand out.

"Hinu… Hinumori." He took a step back towards her, trying to gauge her reaction.

She yawned, stretching, before she smiled weekly at him. "Where's captain Aizen?"

Toshiro froze.

And then she was trembling, shaking her eyes going wider. "Sh-Shiro?"

He left the room when the machines started beeping, nurses running past him as he fled from the room. Hinumori's cries chased him down the hallway, and out through the rain, and all the way into his chambers. And then they lingered in his mind, screaming in his ears.

Toshiro closed his eyes and fought back tears, letting his head hit the table.

He should have listened.

She showed up in his quarters that night, to his surprise. The people from the hospital dropped her off, saying that he had been first on her list of people to go to. There was really nothing they could do for the girl, and they had calmed her down from her spook earlier in the day. A huge fight had broken out in squad 11, all of the seventh squad joining in, and shortly after that there had been an arrancar attack in the world of the living- the officers there heavily injured before they returned. The casualties were too great to have untreatable people taking up beds.

He had let them help her into his bed, stating that he would take the couch. They left shortly after that, and then there was just a thin silence left to hang in the air. Hitsugia noted that it was night, though, and so he turned to Momo and turned the lights low.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

She blinked, hurt flashing over her face for a moment, her fragile smile from a moment before slipping. "Oh… okay."

But before he left, he turned, and smiled just the tiniest bit. "You better not wet my bed, Momo."

And she had smiled, though she blushed, and snuggled deeper into the covers. "I'll do my best."

He turned, to go, but was stopped once more. "Shiro?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you stay with me? You know, like we used to. A long time ago." She smiled up at him, suddenly not looking so sick. "Please?"

He smiled again, this time just the slightest bit wider. "Are you still scared of the thunder, Momo?"

"Maybe."

With a roll of his eyes, he stalked over to the bed, slipping in beside her. "Goodnight, Momo."

She rolled over, throwing her arms around him, and snuggled into his shoulder. Just like she had used to, back when they were little kids. "Goodnight, Lil' Shiro!"

"Bed wetter." He countered lightly, looking down at her with found eyes.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

He wondered if maybe he shouldn't send Rangiku on more false missions.

In her own quarters, Rangiku was sitting down in her bed, tired breath escaping her as she pulled off her sopping wet Shinigami uniform. She felt her eyes go wide with surprise when a small rectangle box fell out of her hakama pocket, thunking on the ground and then staring up at her.

Cautiously, she picked it up. It was a small cardboard box, nothing special. With a small shrug, she lifted the lid.

Inside was a note, pressed neatly and folded to fit perfectly in the box. She took it, ignoring anything else that may have been inside the small package, and carefully unfolded the note.

Happy Birthday.

She felt her eyes start to well up with tears. Looking over at the calendar, she choked back a sob, finding that it was the day he had found her- collapsed on the side of the road, passed out from hunger.

She threw the note down, tears coursing down her cheeks, and snatched up the box. She opened her palm and turned the box upside down above it, stilling for a moment when an object hit her hand.

It was food.

A dried persimmon.

She screamed, throwing the box across the room, more tears streaming down her face in hot torrents of sorrow. She sunk her hands into her hair, pulling at the roots, and slid down off the bed. She cried herself to sleep, her heart heavy with longing and the throbbing wound of love's betrayal.

Not everyone had a happy ending.

In her cage, the orange bird looked up at the moon, her eyes brimming with moister. Outside there was rain, for once, reminding her of her own days in the world of the living, where she had wished that she could connect to people like the rain connected the sky to the ground.

She was making herself sick with sorrow.

The door creaked open, and in walked the man who she had been expecting. She was always expecting him. There wasn't a moment where she wasn't.

"You are distressed." He noted.

She didn't rise to the bait. She stayed quiet.

"Why are you so unhappy, woman? Do these living accommodations not meet your standards? You have a very nice room, provided by Lord Aizen himself. You have food and you bathe regularly. Is this not all you want? What is it that saddens you?" His breath was icy, cruel, not caring at all. He was trying to get her to cry again.

"I…" She turned around, carefully regarding him through a gaze filled with hesitation. "I…" She set her jaw, then, and stood tall. "I miss my freedom."

He raised an eyebrow at this. "Oh?"

She wasn't so sure how to answer, so she went with the easy reply. "Yes."

The man took a step forward, placing a tray of food on her table. "You should not. Wishing your freedom is pointless. To want for some idealism that you will never once hold in your possession again is simply pointless. You are an idiot to long for something you will never again have, when you have so many things that others in this place would kill for. You're a vain little creature, aren't you, Orihime?"

She shook her head, furoisly. "You don't know what your saying! Do you know what it feels like to have everything taken away from you? Even your freedom?"

He had been on his way to the door, but in that instant stopped to throw her a reply over his shoulder. "Of course I do not. I never had anything to begin with. Not even this, freedom you speak of." With that he opened the door, lightly stepping out of her domain, and closed the door.

It was then that Orihime realized she wasn't the only prisoner in the palace.

"I… I'm sorry. I…" But she was talking to thin air. He was gone.

She hated herself for missing him.

Many people were tormenting themselves for missing others that night, it seemed, as Rukia Kuchiki was doing the exact same thing. She was angry with herself for missing Ichigo Kurosaki. She was a Soul Reaper, he was a human, and she was way older than he was. On top of all that, she had duties to fulfill! She didn't have time to miss Ichigo!

She told herself this as she unlocked the door to her room in the squad barracks, preferring them to the Kuchiki manor on most occasions. She opened the door, sighing, removing her shoes and cursing the rain that had her soaked to the bone.

"Rukia! Rukia! Wait!"

She turned in surprise, her eyes narrowing for a moment before springing wide open. "I-Ichigo!?"

When he met her, he greated her with a heated kiss, pushing her back into her bedroom. She didn't think twice before closing the door, adding her own force to the duel of wills, kissing him with a passion she didn't know she had. She was happy to be met with a boldness she didn't know he had, it was so unlike him, though she was smug to see she had made him blush.

She realized what the spiritual pressure fluxuation at the gate between world had been earlier.

He broke of suddenly, smiling, tilting his head to the side. "Hi."

She breathed, shakily, her insides turning to mush when she saw the smile. "Hi."

"Looks like the rain finally stopped."

She could hear it thundering down outside, lightning flashing in her windows, but she didn't ask him what he meant. She just smiled, pecking his chin. "Yeah. I guess it has."

Meanwhile, Jushiro was stroking Retsu's hair from her face, smiling softly as he watched while she slept next to him on the futon. He decided then and there that he really did have a lot to live for. He promised her, and himself, to hold onto life just a little bit longer, if only to keep his doctor busy.

He smiled. Getting sick had its perks, didn't it?

And the world of the desert, the endless sands, a lone beast howled to the moon. "DAMN IT!" The blue haried espada kicked sand into the air, growling, his rage fully unleashed onto the hollows hiding in the sands.

"WHY'D SHE HAVE TO GO!?" He roared, blasting a cero out over the sands. His wounds were beginning to ach, they hadn't before, but now they did. He didn't feel like the king, anymore. He had been reduced to the panther in the desert, eating others just to stay alive. It's what it felt like, anyway, to him. And he hated it. "GOD-FUCKING-DAMN IT!"

He dropped to his knees, the rain drenching him causing sand to stick to his limbs. He roared to the sky, his cry that of an injured predator calling for non but one.

In her own world, the woman herself crawled into her tree, hoping that her face was stoic as usual. When she knew it was she marched back to her squad, head held high, and was delighted that the rain hid things she would not want discovered. When her luetenant asked her for her report so that he could turn it in, she had glared at him, and with a simple, "I am going to my quarters." She had flashed out of there, ready to tear something apart.

It only seemed fair someone else suffer- she was being torn apart from the inside.

In the world of the living, Kisuke stirred in his sleep, turning to wrap his arms around the waist of the woman laying beside him. She made the pain dull, he had noticed.

But she wouldn't be there forever, would she?

After all, in life- and after life- you're banished from all your heart truly desires, unless you're one of the lucky ones to win.