Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Murder My Heart ❯ Awake ( Chapter 18 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.

 

(A/N: Hello peoples, wow, this chapter came out faster than I thought it would. But then again, it's more of what I call a “filler” chapter. But I still think that it's incredibly sweet. All the legal jargon I learned from the Law and Order series, which is why I love the fact that I'm going to write scenes that feature courtroom and lawyers and stuff. I just think it's so cool.

Oh, and Happy Post Turkey-Day. I'm currently gorging myself on pumpkin pie. My sister (who is stick thin) is complaining about how fat she feels and I just want to punch her in the face. But I won't, because I'm nice. : )

Anyway, ENJOY THIS CHAPTER AND DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! I love you all!!!)

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

When Assistant District Attorney Toshiro Hitsugaya came into work on the morning of February 5th the last thing he expected to see on his desk was an indictment against the Captain of the thirty first precinct, Sosuke Aizen, for the kidnapping and attempted murder of Rukia Kuchiki.

 

He had only to stare at it a couple of moments before scowling fitfully and picking up his phone. He angrily punched in a quick extension number he knew by heart and waited not-so-patiently for his second chair to answer.

 

“Yoruichi Shihouin speaking Oh-Tiny-One.”

 

Hitsugaya scowled even further, “Call me that again and you're—”

 

“Fired.” Yoruichi sighed, “I know, I know… but you always say that and I've been working with you for well over two years so it doesn't bother me anymore.”

 

“You're incorrigible.”

 

“Did you want something Oh-Tiny-One?”

 

Hitsugaya had to force a shudder of hatred from rolling down his spine as he spoke, “I wanted to know why I am currently holding an attempted kidnapping and murder indictment against Captain Sosuke Aizen.”

 

“Because he kidnapped and attempted to murder someone.” Came the short reply, a sawing sound appeared in the back round, Hitsugaya cringed at the coarse sound of her filing her nails and instantly rubbed his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose.

 

“It says he tried to kidnap and murder Rukia Kuchiki.” Hitsugaya growled.

 

“That it does.”

 

“Is it true?”

 

“Ah, ah, ah Oh-Tiny-One, it doesn't matter if he is guilty, only that you convict him.” Yoruichi said in a sing-songy voice. “Come on, my cat knows that much.”

 

“GET IN HERE NOW!” He screamed into the telephone, slamming it down almost hard enough to break the receiver.

 

There was a giggle from outside his office and a second later Yoruichi Shihouin opened the door to Toshiro's office and popped her head in, “You bellowed Oh-Tiny-One?”

 

A vein almost popped in Toshiro's forehead as his small body leaned against his large oak desk and he attempted to control his breathing. Damn, all those anger management classes and he still couldn't control his freaking temper. Oh well, Yoruichi wasn't much help either—always raising his blood pressure until he could barely feel his brow. He snarled inwardly and shook his head, it was mostly because he was young, short, and looked like an elementary student with white hair.

 

Toshiro Hitsugaya, nineteen years old, boy genius, graduate of a prestigious law school in less than two years, promoted to the office of Assistant District Attorney at the age of seventeen, and currently the best prosecutor in the tri-city area. And fucking proud of it. He had crossed years off of his social life by going as far as he had in the world of law and justice.

 

Respect. That was what he needed—no more diploma's or newspaper articles, just respect. Honestly, he wouldn't have to go to those fucking anger management classes if people gave him some ounce of respect. Yoruichi was actually one of the only ones who did admire him a bit, with the exception a few of the police precincts he worked—and won cases—for. She only teased him because she was just a fun person.

 

His lean and quirky assistant sauntered up to his desk and sat comfortably in one of the leather chairs he had situated in front of his desk. Her brown skin and slightly purple-tinted hair brought a bit of life to the stagnant room. Yoruichi was wearing a large grin and a slightly tilted face as she wiggled comfortably into the plush seat.

 

He growled silently as he looked at his attractive ADA next to him, she was sitting in his office, her feet propped on his desk, admiring the expensive engagement band on her finger. He narrowed his eyes at her and tried to suppress a rising quell of jealousy.

 

He wished he had something slightly resembling a social life.

 

Toshiro shook his head to clear it, now was not the time to be thinking of such things.

 

“Yoruichi,” he began, his voice official and tense, way too tense for a five foot nothing nineteen year old, “Please tell me who brought these charges against Captain Aizen.”

 

The pretty woman gazed at her sparkling ring for a moment longer before giggling, sighing, and turning her attention back to her boss. Her playful aura dropped in a minute and she spoke with a voice edged in iron. “These charges were filed on behalf of Rukia Kuchiki.”

 

Toshiro frowned at her, “But by whom?”

 

“It was filed jointly by Detective Ichigo Kurosaki and Captain Zaraki Kenpachi, both of the thirty first precinct.” Yoruichi answered crisply.

 

“Another captain filed the charges?” Hitsugaya could barely contain himself from gaping.

 

“Apparently he's pretty convinced Aizen's guilty.” She shrugged.

 

Hitsugaya groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose once again, the spot was red now from all of the massaging he was doing to that area. “Where is Miss Kuchiki now?”

 

“The ICU of the Seiretei Hospital.”

 

“How bad?”

 

“All I know is that she hasn't woken up.” Yoruichi sighed sadly, “It's really depressing to think about.”

 

Toshiro frowned, “Wait… is this the same Detective Kuchiki whose brother was killed about a year ago?”

 

Yoruichi nodded solemnly.

 

Another sigh. “Is anyone at the hospital with her?”

 

A small smile appeared on Yoruichi's distinctively cat-like face and she sighed romantically.

 

Toshiro narrowed his eyes at her. “What?”

 

“It's just… just so sweet, really.” Yoruichi roved her head around her neck and shrugged her shoulders lightly. “Ichigo Kurosaki hasn't left her side since she got there.”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

 

The intensive care unit in the Seiretei Hospital was well lit and well maintained. Nurses in brightly colored scrubs with little teddy bears decorating the cloth scurried around each hour; they changed sheets, fluffed pillows, fixed IV tubes, and asked constantly if Ichigo needed anything to drink or wanted something to do.

 

He didn't talk to them at all, he didn't look at any of them; it was like he could barely hear or see them. They just padded in and out of the room, making sure that the machine next to Rukia was constantly beeping, displaying her life on that simple monitor.

 

It bothered Ichigo sometimes that all they had to show for Rukia's life right now was a beeping machine with a jagged green line across the front. What about her personality, her kindness, her will, her strength… any of that? Nothing but a single green line to represent her entire being. He hated it. He wanted her to wake up.

 

He was currently sitting in a small, uncomfortable chair beside a large and standardized bed. Rukia was in that bed. Her body stiff but twitching. Her mouth closed and dry. Her body weak and frail. The only thing that was different about her was her right hand; it was currently pressed between Ichigo's fingers. His burned and blistered digits holding fast to hers.

 

Ichigo closed his eyes softly.

 

“What do you mean she's not awake?” He asked dangerously, his fists were balled beside him and his body was tense. He looked completely ready to lunge at the nervous looking emergency room doctor. The tiny, balding man was twisting his hands together before him and trembling slightly.

 

“W-well sir… she—she suffered damage from the mix of chloroform and smoke that she inhaled during the night. Not to mention there were several burns on her skin, a couple of slight knife wounds, and head trauma.” The man gulped, he was watching Ichigo's reactions as he explained her condition. Each new ailment made his body grow taut with anger and growing terror. He looked ready to rip something—someone—to shreds.

 

“When will she wake up?” Ichigo asked him quietly, trying to keep his temper in check.

 

“W-w-well, I-I have t-to know if she's s-suffered an-any other trauma lately.” He was beginning to sweat.

 

Ichigo gritted his teeth, “What kind of trauma?”

 

The tiny man cleared his throat quickly, “Like… e-emotional or psychological?”

 

Ichigo's eyes widened, his hands gripped the man's coat collar, and slammed him back against the counter.

 

“SHE WAS JUST KIDNAPPED, HELD UNDER DURESS, AND ALMOST BURNED ALIVE! DO YOU THINK SHE'S SUFFERED ANY `EMOTIONAL' OR `PSYCHOLOGICAL' TRAUMA?” He bellowed.

 

Two street cops behind him lurched forward and pulled each of Ichigo's arms; they tried to yank him off the terrified doctor while still keeping Ichigo restrained.

 

“I-I'm going to g-get my s-supervi-visor.” The man squeaked before sprinting off into the hospital halls, his terrified footsteps receding quickly.

 

“Cool it man,” one of the unknown street cops whispered behind him.

 

“Shut up,” said Street Cop Number Two to Street Cop Number One, “Don't get him angry.”

 

“Let go of me.” Ichigo snarled at them. They instantly released him and took two simultaneous steps back. Ichigo resumed pacing the entire room, ignoring the strange looks and glares that he was receiving from the occupants of the area. Some of them were muttering that Ichigo should keep his voice down, other, older people, were sighing softly whispering lightly to each other about love and relationships.

 

After a small amount of time the nervous man came back, this time accompanied by an older woman with a soft and kind looking face. Her hair was long and braided down the front of her body. She was wearing an official coat and Ichigo's eyes immediately went to the tag situated on her right lapel.

 

“I'm Dr. Retsu Unohana,” the woman said kindly, she didn't offer her hand but tilted her head in a sympathetic gesture. “You're the person who is inquiring about Rukia Kuchiki?”

 

Ichigo nodded and replied acidly, “I would like some straight answers, if you don't mind.”

 

Dr. Unohana nodded, “No problem. I'm sorry for Dr. Teshi's reluctance. He's easily frightened by loud and aggressive men.” Dr. Teshi began to protest but Ichigo shot him a glare and he instantly shriveled.

 

“Let's go somewhere where we can talk.” The woman said softly.

 

“I want to see Rukia.”

 

“You will, very soon.”

 

Dr. Unohana led Ichigo to a small part of the waiting room that was partially closed off from the rest of room. The street cops watched him go warily but seemed to know that he wouldn't do any harm to a woman. They simply sighed and wandered off in search of coffee.

 

Ichigo didn't even bother to lean against the wall as Dr. Unohana drew in a breath and brought her thoughts together. He was just too tense.

 

“Detective Kurosaki,” the woman began, “Ms. Kuchiki has suffered severe damage.”

 

Ichigo's throat went dry. “What kind of damage?”

 

“It's not physically permanent,” the doctor amended, “What I meant to say is that after so much that has happened to her—her brother being killed, her friends after that, being kidnapped and almost murdered—all those things can cause some serious mental damage.”

 

Ichigo drew a shaking hand through his hair, “So… she can get better, right?”

 

Dr. Unohana paused and sighed, “Right now she is in what we call catatonia. Technically the stupor state. It is a coma-like condition that's brought on by severe emotional stress. The body just kind of shuts down because the mind needs to recuperate.”

 

“When will she wake up?”

 

The woman shrugged softly and shook her head, “That's up to her.”

 

Ichigo felt his heart drop from the center of his chest. “Can't you do anything?”

 

The doctor shook her head. “It's up to her now. But anything could wake her up: a voice, a smell, a certain presence… I do believe that if you're in the room with her she might just wake up.”

 

Ichigo's voice was shaking as he whispered, “Can I see her?”

 

Dr. Retsu Unohana smiled and nodded. “Yes. You can.”

 

The door to the room opened but Ichigo didn't look up. He was just too tired to look and patronize another well-meaning nurse.

 

It was Dr. Unohana, her soft voice floated through the air as she spoke, “Has she made any progress?”

 

Ichigo lifted his head and felt slightly better to see the head of the hospital standing in Rukia's room. But the feeling was squashed as soon as his vision shifted from the doctor's smiling face to Rukia's stiff body in the bed.

 

He sighed and tightened her hand in his. “You tell me.”

 

“Alright…” she shuffled to the bottom of the bed and picked up a little chart. She read it quickly and sighed, “The slight fever she had is gone, her burns are healing nicely, and her vitals are stable.”

 

“Any… change?”

 

She shook her head but paused as she glanced at Ichigo's disheveled state. His clothes were unwashed and dirty, his face was scruffy and tired, and his body just looked so weak. She shook her head at him and sighed, “Mr. Kurosaki. Listen to me.”

 

Ichigo reluctantly looked up, he felt like a two year old being told off by his mother. Dr. Unohana looked at him with her caring eyes and smiled, “I will stay in this room with Miss Kuchiki while you go home, wash up, change your clothes, and get something to eat.”

 

Ichigo reared up to protest but the doctor put up her hand, stopping his tirade in its tracks. “I realize that you care very much for Miss Kuchiki but if you don't take care of yourself then the atmosphere won't be right for her to recuperate.”

 

Ichigo swallowed with difficulty and drew a hand through his dirty hair. He gave the doctor a sideways glance and breathed in. “Are you sure you won't leave the room?”

 

Dr. Unohana smiled. “Cross my heart.”

 

Ichigo didn't move from his spot. His hand was still gripping Rukia's like he was afraid to let go. He felt like if he let go he would fall down into a deep chasm he wouldn't be able to get out of. He felt like she would be gone and he wouldn't be able to stop it.

 

He sighed shakily and quickly brought her hand to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss against her skin and then rubbed her soft flesh against his brash and unshaven cheek. He wanted so badly to just stay there and sit beside her.

 

Dr. Unohana smiled again, “Go home, you can come right back.”

 

He nodded quietly and reluctantly rose from the seat, his body ached from sitting in the same position for so long. He stretched softly and shook his hair. “Alright… I'll be, um, back in about an hour I guess.”

 

“Take two.” The elderly woman said kindly. Ichigo snorted once but walked towards the door. He was almost ready to exit when he turned around… just to look at her once more. Dr. Unohana was now in his vacated seat, she was sitting placidly, simply staring out the window into the bright sunlit day.

 

Ichigo's gaze slid down to Rukia: pale, fragile, weak, tubes suck in her arms, and machines beeping near her sides. Ichigo's throat tightened and he turned away.

 

In all the time that he had been with her he had known Rukia the Cop and Rukia the Woman. They were different sides of her that were combined to create a completely wonderful and charismatic person. The person Ichigo knew—he just knew—he was meant for. He had loved Rukia the Woman in every way possible. Everyday he was with Rukia the Cop and even then he adored every aspect of her. The combination of both made her… perfect.

 

But now… now she was neither Rukia the Cop nor Rukia the Woman. She was trapped inside of her own mind. She was weak. She was frail. She was just not Rukia.

 

She was not his Rukia.

 

“Oh, and Mr. Kurosaki,” it was Dr. Unohana again.

 

“Yes?” Ichigo asked, his throat dry and raspy.

 

The woman smiled softly, “Bring a book. It might help if you read to her.”

 

Ichigo's eyes burned but he simply nodded and left the room.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

 

A pale man possessing startling green eyes and wearing a gray suit entered the room; he walked steadily to the seat directly beside Hitsugaya Toshiro. The tiny attorney raised an eyebrow as he took a seat without bothering to offer his hand to him, Yoruichi, or even the judge sitting before them.

 

“Pardon my tardiness, your honor,” his voice was completely void of all emotion but his eyes never left the judge, “I was speaking with my client and the meeting ran a bit later than expected. I'm Ulquiorra Schiffer, Captain Aizen's attorney.”

 

Hitsugaya bristled but kept his temper in check as the exceedingly white man with the queer colored eyes continued to ignore him.

 

“Mr. Schiffer,” the Honorable Judge Shigekuni Yamamoto croaked, “I'm so glad you finally decided to show.”

 

“I apologize,” he said solemnly. “But I am slightly unfamiliar with the procedure of the District Attorney's office; I usually do not represent clients in these types of cases. Please, who will be prosecuting my client?”

 

Another vein began to throb in Toshiro's forehead and Yoruichi giggled softly. He shot her a malicious look and she just shrugged. “Well, you are short.”

 

Ulquiorra's gaze shifted from the gray haired judge to the white haired young man sitting beside him. Toshiro gave him a terse smile and held out his hand. “Assistant District Attorney Toshiro Hitsugaya and this is my second chair, Yoruichi Shihouin.” He didn't add a `pleased to meet you' simply because he didn't have any indications of pleasure towards this man.

 

Ulquiorra frowned and looked from the judge to the tiny man beside him and then back to the judge. He shook his head softly and muttered, “I'm sorry, your honor, I thought I was up against a celebrated A.D.A., not a high school student just finished with puberty.”

 

Yoruichi burst out laughing and ended up clutching her stomach only moments later. Tears began to roll down her face immediately. “H-High s-school!” She threw her head back after catching a small glimpse of her bosses' enraged and purple face. “P-P-ub-ber-ty!”

 

“If you're going to laugh then go outside!” Toshiro roared, his fists gripping the sides of his chair.

 

She was out in the hallway within a second; her laugher permeated the woodwork walls until all that was entering Toshiro's ears was her ridiculous chuckling.

 

“Stupid… evil… damnable… woman.” Toshiro snarled as he whirled around to Ulquiorra and glared at him, “I will be prosecuting Captain Aizen and I might be young but I am a three year graduate of law school and I am certainly finished with puberty.”

 

Ulquiorra's face was completely still as he scoffed and muttered, “Well, if you're finished with puberty then I feel exceedingly sorry for you and any future roller coasters you might wish to ride.”

 

“Enough!” Judge Yamamoto barked quickly, watching closely the deadly look on Toshiro's face. “We're here to talk about a trial, not whether or not the prosecution is old enough to drink.”

 

The man/boy in question opened his mouth to argue but the defense lawyer cut him off. “Of course sir.”

 

Toshiro snapped his mouth shut and slithered his gaze to the door. Yoruichi was still giggling outside the office but her boss was still in a rather rancid mood and decided against calling her back in.

 

He turned back to the two men before him and breathed in deeply; it took him a moment to transition his mind from the furious, angry, ridiculed teen that he had been a minute ago to the smart, professional, and businesslike man he needed to be.

 

“Life without parole.” Toshiro said, his voice deepening and an air of professionalism settling in around him.

 

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed, “Not a chance. My client isn't guilty of anything.”

 

Toshiro frowned and shifted in his seat until he was facing his opponent. “Your client kidnapped and tried to murder Detective Rukia Kuchiki.” He said solidly, “And who knows how many other people. I've contacted the thirty first precinct and they say that they're looking at your client for over thirty murders and disappearances including those of four detectives.”

 

“Those allegations are completely false; my client is a decorated member of the police force and an eight-year commander of the twenty eighth precinct. He has known ties to the community, he goes to church, and he is liked by all of his coworkers as well as employees.” Ulquiorra said sternly.

 

“Detective Rukia Kuchiki was one of his employees.” Toshiro sniped. “She ended up tied to a chair and almost burned alive inside of a building owned by Sosuke Aizen.”

 

“That is completely circumstantial.” Ulquiorra said, “The place was bought as an investment by Captain Aizen, however, when the venture didn't go as he had planned he attempted to sell it but no one would buy so he simply kept it. He had no idea what the place was being used for nor did he know anything about its inhabitants—mainly floating drug dealers and hookers. And for the kidnapping, Miss Kuchiki could have been taken hostage by someone she arrested long ago. It could have simply been a revenge abduction.”

 

Toshiro shifted slightly in his seat, “Two detectives at the scene, Detective Kurosaki and Detective Abarai both saw and arrested Captain Aizen at the scene.”

 

Ulquiorra snorted softly, “Detective Abarai… who grew up with Miss Kuchiki.”

 

Toshiro glared at him. “Your point?”

 

“And there is also Detective Kurosaki… who is currently sleeping with Miss Kuchiki.” He added nastily.

 

“That is irrelevant to the case at hand.” Toshiro snarled, waving his hand dejectedly. “The point is that Detective Abarai had Sosuke Aizen in his possession when more than thirty people—EMS personnel, fellow detectives, and fire fighters—came to the scene.”

 

“My client was also severely beaten,” Ulquiorra added, “Detective Kurosaki assaulted him so badly that his nose is completely broken, there is damage to his ribs, and his windpipe. My client wants to sue.”

 

“Tell him to go right ahead,” Toshiro snorted, “He won't be able to use all that money in prison.”

 

“My client is not going to prison.” Ulquiorra shook his head, “We are going to fight this.”

 

“That's fine.” Toshiro glared at him, “After all, I have a witness.”

 

“Who is currently in a comatose state in the Seiretei Hospital.” Ulquiorra said softly, something that looked like a smirk crossed his face and he continued. “There is no telling when she will actually come out of it. My client has the right to a speedy trial, if I'm not mistaken.”

 

There was a pause in the room and for the first time in a few minutes Toshiro actually noticed that Yoruichi was back in the room. She was leaning against the doorframe and listening intently. He glanced at her and nodded his head, she came forward and said, “Detective Kuchiki is in what they call a catatonic state. She is technically in a stupor and just needs time to recuperate.”

 

“Right to a speedy trial.” Ulquiorra said once again.

 

Toshiro wanted to hit the pale and annoying man.

 

The Honorable Judge Yamamoto had listened to this entire argument while observing the two men in front of him. His long white beard was nearly splayed against the top of his expensively judicial desk. The wrinkles on his face were exceedingly pronounced as he grimaced slightly and nodded his head.

 

“Mr. Hitsugaya,” he said, his voice was creaky and old, “You have one week to produce your witness. Up until that point the trial will go on, I believe that the grand jury has already chosen to indict?”

 

“That is correct your honor.” Toshiro said confidently.

 

“Fine.” The judge said quietly. “I'll start the proceedings for ten o'clock in two days time.”

 

The three lawyers in the room nodded. Ulquiorra stood first and exited after nodded slightly to the judge before them. He didn't even bother to acknowledge the presence of the short, white-haired teen genius in front of him.

 

Toshiro's murderous eyes followed him as he exited the room. He turned, bowed to the judge, and left the room, Yoruichi in tow.

 

They hustled down the hall quickly, Toshiro grumbling all the while. “I want that woman woken up and in the courtroom within the week.”

 

Yoruichi followed him diligently. She shook her head and whispered, “I just hope Ichigo can do it in time.”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

 

Ichigo turned the to last page of the book and read the final passage: “A glooming peace this morning with it brings/The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head/Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things/Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished/For never was a story of more woe/Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”

 

He closed the book softly and sighed. “Not the best book to read, I guess…” he whispered as he leaned slightly forward and grasped her hand in his. He played with her soft fingers for a while before pressing a kiss to each of them. “I mean… it is about jilted lovers killing each other over one another. I know you would hate it. You can't stand stuff like that.”

 

The machine kept beeping. Filling the silence in between them. She was stable but the contraption was mostly put there simply for Ichigo's own piece of mind. Dr. Unohana had placed the apparatus there so the hospital would know if there was any change in Rukia's condition.

 

“I bet you've read it before though.” Ichigo continued, rubbing her hand between his. “Maybe in high school or something. But you never know, I guess.”

 

He offered a weak smile and sighed. “When you wake up I'll read you something lighter, maybe Much Ado About Nothing. That actually has a happy ending.”

 

He sighed and reached over her small body to grasp her other hand. Her left hand.

 

“It ends with people finding true love.” He murmured, one hand holding her small fingers while the other reached into his back pocket. “People being happy.” He pulled out something small and shining and slipped it onto the third finger on her left hand. “People getting married.” He placed her hand back down and the bent to press a kiss to her forehead.

 

He sat back in the chair and began to brush hair away from her face. “But I doubt that they settle down. Even in that book, damn… Beatrice was just like you. Fiery, passionate, only you have a gun.”

 

He shook his head, “Nah, you'd never settle. Ever.”

 

His hand was in hers once again. His thumb was stroking her skin softly and he was occasionally pressing kisses on her flesh.

 

“The truth is… I love you, Rukia Kuchiki.” He whispered, lacing his fingers with hers. “I was going to tell you the night you disappeared but things just didn't pan out the way I thought they would.” He breathed in shakily and closed his eyes for a moment. “So I guess I'm telling you now. It's not the ideal setting or anything and you probably can't hear me… but I just had to say it.”

 

He let out a dry chuckle and shook his head, telling himself desperately to ignore the burning sensation behind his eyes.

 

“Now it's your turn Rukia… you have to wake up.” He drew in a ragged breath and groaned. “You just need to wake up so I can tell you for real.”

 

He sighed, shook his head, grasped her hand, and rested beside her. His tired body desperately wanted sleep. He closed his eyes for a minute and promised himself not to let go of her hand.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

 

Zaraki Kenpachi was in a bad mood.

 

In all honesty, he had been in a bad mood ever since Ichigo Kurosaki called him five nights ago and told him that Rukia Kuchiki was missing. Not only had he lost two of his best detectives—one because she was in a coma, or whatever the hell it was, and one because he wouldn't leave the fucking hospital—but he was also stuck with all of the work that they should have been handling. Murderers didn't stop murdering just because the local police precinct was busy. Christ.

 

Kenpachi groaned at the stack of papers on his desk and shook his head. Damn, he really didn't know how much paperwork Rukia did until she was gone. Now he was being stuck with all of her, and her partner's, undone work.

 

She's not gone, he had to remind himself, she's just out of commission.

 

He growled softly and glanced at the huge pile he still had left to do. He was stuck doing all of this while the rest of his team was working on building a case against Aizen. Not that he was shedding tears over the guy though; Kenpachi had never really liked him all that much. After all, “Aizen the Ass” had been his nickname in the Police Academy. How he ever got to be such a likeable guy in the past couple of years was beyond Kenpachi's imagination.

 

And now he was stuck doing all of the paperwork for his trial. He sighed and picked up another piece of paper from his desk. He considered lighting it on fire.

 

The phone beside him began to ring and he picked it up immediately, the old cliché “saved by the bell” floating through his head.

 

“Kenpachi?” He said clearly.

 

“It's Hitsugaya.” The voice over the phone said. “Is there any progress?”

 

“Not yet.” Kenpachi said, his mood dropping with each vocalized word.

 

There was a pause and Kenpachi could hear the irate A.D.A. gritting his teeth over the phone, “I need that woman to testify. My case is tanking because she won't wake up!”

 

“Her name,” the police captain snarled, “Is Detective Rukia Kuchiki. And it is your job to make sure that Aizen is put away, regardless of whether or not you have specific testimony.”

 

“Listen, I have no evidence to convict him on even evading a parking ticket! You've told me all the facts and I can't use any of them to take down Aizen. Not to mention all of the evidence was obtained illegally. I need Detective Kuchiki to testify.”

 

“You can't have it until she wakes up.” Kenpachi said, fighting the urge to tease the irate man.

 

“Well she had better wake up in the next day or so because if she's not on that stand in forty eight hours the defense will argue insufficient evidence and the charges will be dismissed and after that jeopardy is attached! I don't think you want that any more than I do!” The tiny attorney was practically screaming.

 

Kenpachi hardly batted an eyelash at the A.D.A.'s heated voice. “I'll pass that on to the hospital.”

 

“You had better.” Slam.

 

Drawing the phone away from his ear the chief sighed and began punching the number to the hospital. He knew better than to actually call Ichigo. He wouldn't answer.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

 

Beeping. That was all she could hear. Beeping.

 

And breathing.

 

Someone was beside her. She could feel how warm her hand was. Something was holding it. Holding it tight too. She sighed softly at how warm it felt. She shifted her legs and shook her head, wondering why she felt so heavy and… and… sedated.

 

What the hell was going on? She felt like she was being crushed. Heavy… heavy things were on top of her and she just wanted them gone.

 

Her breathing was just a bit heavier as she shifted her neck to the side and blearily opened one eye. Then another.

 

Orange.

 

She saw orange. Lots of orange. Fluffy orange. Spiked orange. Orange. She knew that color orange. She loved that color orange. Only that color orange.

 

She opened her mouth to speak but found that her throat was so dry she could barely form the words.

 

He was lying his head down directly by her side. Her hand was pressed against his cheek softly as he breathed lightly. Her hand was almost completely trapped against his face but she had enough room to wiggle her fingers out from underneath him. He was sleeping. He looked so peaceful when he slept.

 

She wanted to reach out and touch the top of his head. Her body was weak and she knew it, she felt so tired, but she just wanted to see him before she rested for a while.

 

She lifted her hand gently, just long enough so her fingertips could brush the soft hair on his head and then touch his scalp underneath. She ran her hand through his silken locks a few more times before she felt him stir.

 

She saw him blink a few times before he raised his head and looked at her. Immediately, his half-drowsy eyes became wider and his breath drew in on a sharp note.

 

“Rukia…” his voice was loose and weak and strangled. It was unlike anything she had ever heard from him before.

 

Weakly, she drew her lips together in a small but precious smile and whispered, “Hi.”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

 

Toshiro Hitsugaya was seated in his desk, his hands in his hair, ready to tear out every single strand.

 

Yoruichi popped her head inside his office and grinned, “Telephone call on line one. It's Kenpachi.”

 

He picked it up immediately. “Yes?”

 

“She's awake.” The police chief said. He sounded like he was grinning over the phone.

 

Toshiro smirked. “Get her in here as soon as possible. I need to prep her for her testimony. She's got thirty six hours until she needs to appear in court.”

 

“I'll see what I can do.”

 

The phone clicked shut and Toshiro—for the first time in the last five days—grinned heartily. He looked up at Yoruichi and nodded, “We've got him.”