There were so few days like this now--days when they could be Byakuya and Hisana, instead of the heir to the Kuchiki clan and his wife (for all that she was not so naive as to miss the subtle slights and insults regularly pointed her way). But today, they had made their escape, walking in plain clothing (though far better than anything she'd worn before they met) through some of the upper districts of the Rukongai.

Though the search for her sister was always in her mind, she smiled as she pointed something out to him, admiring the decorations and brilliant colors of the fans being set up for display.

Perhaps it was living so long in the Rukongai, where one must be always on one's guard. Perhaps it was a glint of light just at the right angle, but she turned her head to see a man just pulling out a sword, lunging towards her husband. Without thought, she threw herself at the man with a cry of fury, slamming his head to the ground as she went, and grabbing a rock to defend them with, old instincts born from blood, terror, and thirst emerging. But as the man didn't move--unconscious, she grew aware of the blood streaming out from her stomach and soaking her clothes. She stared for a moment at the nearly comical sight, the sword still sticking through her, as she turned to meet Byakuya's eyes.