hh_mirror

The shinigami couldn't recall how long she'd existed in this never-ending twilight, trapped somewhere between consciousness and the intangibility of a dream. She knew only that she must free herself, and soon, or risk suffocation.

You are already dead, the rational part of her mind whispered, be calm. Be still.

Through rising panic, she managed to heed her instincts. Her effort was rewarded with the sudden cracking of her prison, a spider's web of light forming before her eyes as the kernel shell began to crumble.

Rukia came to, gasping, sprawled on the floor, surrounded by pieces of the former kernel and broken glass. She barely felt the shards biting into her bare legs, cutting the palms of her hands as she pushed herself up to look at her surroundings.

A surprising sight greeted her. He looked like ~~yakuza~~ a businessman, kneeling there in his black suit, dress shirt and tie, so composed, so unconcerned. The lack of kenseikan and scarf confused her, even more than the absence of a captain's uniform, but it was his unmistakable storm grey eyes that brought instant recognition. Rukia arranged herself into a more dignified position and bowed to her brother.

"Nii-sama." She'd aimed for reverence, but only succeeded in sounding upset. Why did their reunions have to be so consistently and damnably awkward?