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The Noble Sort	By : Melissarose8585 Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female Views: 4411 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or make any money off of this story. All rights belong to Tite Kubo.

Chapter List
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A/N: Well, I hope everyone enjoyed the story! I'll be going back and editing in the next few months, fixing the mistakes I've noticed since and adding a few extra scenes, so if you have the story on alert, be aware that it might pop up every once in a while. And I am still considering a sequel of sorts, although it would be much more centered on Nanao and Shunsui. I have some scenes written out and an outline, but I'm not too sure on it. My foray into Bleach hasn't done so well. And I'm super, super busy at work. I've been putting in 65 hours a week instead of the normal 40-45.

But I enjoyed writing it, playing with the characters, and just getting to know and create such a universe inside the Bleach cannon. I did have problems with the Epilogue—I wanted some big scene at the end with all those important to Minako. Instead, I went with two smaller scenes showing the conclusion of the conflict that opened the story and a representation of how she lived her life in the moment from then on.

I hope you enjoy it.

Anyway, thank you to all who have reviewed, favorited, alerted, and e-mailed. I have over 1,000 notifications from different sites saved in my folder for this story, and each one is important to me. My review count might not be high on two of the sites, but it was all still worth it. I enjoyed writing it and I love that you enjoyed reading it. It was a fun project in a very bad part of my life—namely, unemployment—and I'll never regret it.

And I'll still be around, so any questions you guys have I'll be happy to answer.

Remember: the original ending scene and explanation has been posted as well. You might check it out, just to see how far off base I ended up.

"The Noble Sort"

Four Months Later

"Remind me again why we had to do this ourselves?" her fuku-taichou asked, shooting her a look.

"Well, it's too pretty a day to stay inside chained to my desk. And I hadn't gotten to see Nanao in weeks with all the extra prep for the festival. And, well, truthfully…let's just say it was time for it."

He nodded, finally understanding.

His exasperation was understandable; they had spent most of the day in the Eighth instead of working all because she had insisted they take some paperwork to Nanao. But she had been back in Seireitei for almost half a year now, and this was something she had continued to put off, too afraid of the reactions of the shinigami she used to serve with to do it sooner. It had been her opinion that time would at least take the edge off.

She had been worried for nothing.

No one had forgotten her infamous past, but it had been put in the back of people's minds. It didn't linger in the air during her return to the Eighth.

Her former division mates were just happy to see her and happy to be able to claim another taichou from their group. She spent hours catching up with many of the seated officers, men and women she had known—lived with and loved—a century before, and had a wonderfully amusing lunch with her favorite couple.

They were so fun to watch.

There was only one more person to see, and she had felt the need to do it privately. Shuuhei refused, though, and followed her anyway.

He had become much more obstinate lately, more forward. She was enjoying seeing the real him, but she kind of missed the polite guy she met at first. This one…well, he reminded her too much of herself sometimes.

She turned the last corner quickly—the layout of the division was still firm in her mind, even all these years later—and came to a stop right in the open doorway to what the division members affectionately called "the blast room."

It was the only practice room they had that could withstand the higher spells without taking damage.

At two in the afternoon there were few people there, just a spare shinigami or three practicing in their off time. But there was one man, over in the corner, that rarely left the room. He was responsible for controlling the junior shinigami's reishi levels and making sure nothing got too out of control. It was an ideal post for someone whose zanpakutou could regulate, retrieve, change memories…and control reiatsu through them.

"Ju-ro!" she sang out.

The man in the corner turned haphazardly to the door upon hearing his name, dropped the target he was trying to mend, and literally sprinted across the room.

Before she knew it she was engulfed in six foot of bulky man, big strong arms wrapped around her and squeezing out all the air in her lungs.

He was one of the few she was affectionate with. He was too cuddly not to be.

"Do you have any idea what you put us through?" he growled out, although she could literally feel the smile on his face.

"I'm sorry!" she said, laughing. "I had other things on my mind, you big ass. What kind of greeting is that, anyway? "

"The right one."

He stepped back, keeping his hands on her shoulders as if to assure himself she was actually in front of him. He nodded to the very surprised fuku-taichou beside her before giving her a look so full of remorse she could almost feel her heart break.

"After you left—I wondered so many times if I should've done more, if I should've went to your uncle myself…" he trailed off, his blue eyes looking straight into hers. She could almost feel him sifting through her memories again. "I blamed myself for a few years, even thought of trying to track you down."

"You couldn't have. I was very well-hidden. And none of it was your fault—there was nothing you could have done to help me. I think I was too far gone at that point to take help from anyone here."

He gestured to the wooden benches along one of the walls and they moved that way, Shuuhei trailing behind with a very odd look on his face.

"I should've refused outright. If I had known…"

"What good would it have done? I would've ended up that much more freaked out later on if I hadn't known what happened." They both collapsed onto the benches, as if the full weight of their emotions was heavy on their shoulders. Shuuhei, still following, sat down a few feet away with a strange look still distorting his handsome features.

She could tell he was listening but pretending not to.

"I still—there are so many things I could've done, could've said—"

"None of which would have made a difference." She took his bigger hand in between hers, studying the faint scars from kidō that crisscrossed his knuckles, and hers, too. "You can't blame yourself for it. You helped me more than you know…you and Isane. And I was gonna do what I wanted. You know how I am."

"Don't I?" he sighed, squeezing her hand once before pulling his own away. "Taichou now, huh? They finally wizened up. I thought they would at some point, but your mother and uncle were pre-tty insistent, if I remember right. Still…"

She smirked.

"I wondered if you would ever come see me, you know. Thought maybe you were too embarrassed about it all."

"I am, to a point. I wish you hadn't seen it. But it does no good to dwell on it—my most important lesson from my time in exile." She shoved him gently with her shoulder. "Besides, you should be embarrassed, not me. I didn't cry like a big baby."

A dark look passed over his face.

"I had every right. What they did to you," he stopped, choking on his words. He swallowed the lump in his throat down slowly, glaring at the floor. "No one deserves that."

"Well, it's over now, you—you—gah!" She shook her head, a quirky smile on her face. "I'm as healthy as a horse and as fat as one, too. He's been feeding me more than I can handle," she said, pointing at her fuku-taichou.

"You look great. I'm…I'm glad to see you back, Minako."

"And in another division where I'm not the one on your ass all day?" He laughed, nodding his head. "Although from what I hear, Nanao's just as bad as me and Lisa. You poor things—laziest taichou in Seireitei and the hardest fuku-taichou to compensate."

"Keeps things interesting."

Juro waggled his eyebrows at her, leering at her in a way she had somehow forgotten amongst all the foggy memories from "before," and she heard Shuuhei choke on the air he was sucking in.

Annnnd we're in trouble now.

Her fuku-taichou was sometimes too observant for his own good.

She slapped her hands on her knees before shoving up off the seat, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder lightly before she stepped away. Shuuhei stood behind her, ready to leave as quickly as possible.

"Well, unlike some of you, I have things to do."

"I'm sure," he muttered, sending her a grin. "Don't be a stranger, huh? Come visit your lowly old friends once in a while."

"I will." She bit her lip. "I was—not worried, but—"

"I know. Don't be."

She flashed him a brilliant smile, one only those closest to her had ever seen, before turning and waving nonchalantly over her shoulder. She heard his huff as he moved back to what he had been doing.

She could also hear the wheels turning in Shuuhei's head though.

As soon as they left the room she heard him take in a breath, ready to bombard her with questions, but she put her hand up.

"At least let us get outside first."

He nodded, waiting very impatiently until the very moment the weak fall sunlight hit them before the words busted out.

"Who—"

"Juro," she said, innocently.

"But—"

"Yes."

"Does Ukitake-taichou know—"

"I did not feel the need to furnish him with a list of my previous lovers, no." She shot him a look as they moved through the courtyard of the Eighth and into the street of Seireitei. "It was long before I left, closer to when I entered the division than when I left it."

"And what—"

"Nothing you need to know."

"But—"

"None of your business, Shuuhei."

"But—"

"Hell no."

He stopped at that, a weird look on his face. He almost looked angry with her, although she couldn't figure out why her silence bothered him so much. She turned back toward him, sighing deeply and fidgeting with the sword on her hip absently.

"Why do you have to know?"

"There is nothing you don't know about me, taichou. Until now I thought there was nothing I didn't know about you."

"I wanted trust, boy, not an intimate relationship," she snorted.

"Secrets only lead to more secrets."

"This isn't so much a secret as an omission from the official story. It's private, and I mean to keep it that way. Hard to do here, but we've been successful so far." She turned back around and continued toward their own division, a little angry now.

"I've seen you naked, taichou," he hissed. "I've walked in on you and Ukitake-taichou more times than I care to remember. What can be more embarrassing than that?"

In her opinion, that wasn't embarrassing. That was just him having bad luck.

"There are some very dark things in my past, Shuuhei, things I try very hard to forget."

"Like we don't all have skeletons." She heard him let out a frustrated huff. "I can't do my full job without knowing everything."

"No one ever said you had to defend me from all the rumors. Let them talk—I don't give a shit, really."

He grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to come to a stop in the middle of the street, and she had a fleeting thought that maybe she had been too lenient, too willing to foster a friendship with her subordinate officer.

She turned to face him, ready to literally scream out her protest, but the words died on her lips.

She remembered how she and Kyouraku had been. How he and Lisa had been. How he and Nanao were, although they couldn't really be counted, considering. Even how her uncle and Sasakibe were when they were alone or just around those they trusted. The taichou-fuku-taichou relationship was different, always had been. Rank flew out the window with most of the teams when they were alone. They were confidants, dual leaders of the division.

She sighed, letting her head drop.

"What if I promise you it's something that won't ever be fodder for the rumor mill?"

"Then you still don't get it," he forced out. "I've kept nothing from you. You know about my childhood, my trouble with my zanpakutou, you know I was the one to kill my former taichou. I thought you were extending me the same trust."

"There is very little I haven't told you, Shuuhei. But what you're asking—very few people outside of Central know the full story. Out of that group, not one of them is someone I haven't known for decades, most of the time centuries. Only those closest to me have ever heard anything about it."

She finally met his eyes, hoping he would realize it wasn't something she wanted to talk about. But his stare was hard, anger burning deep behind his irises. She could feel his reiatsu reacting, too, which would only draw attention to their argument.

"Fine," she spat, jerking her shoulder out from underneath his hand and twisting around. She was gone in the blink of an eye, her shunpo unbelievably fast as she drew on her anger.

It took them just a few minutes to make it back to their division, and by the time he landed in front of her, winded and out of breath, she had the door to her quarters open and was standing stiff, waiting on him.

"We don't have all day," she bit out.

He entered silently, cringing a bit when she slammed the sliding door shut, but when she came to sit across from him at the small western style table all his attention was focused on her. And she hated it.

My dear, it is better to get it all out of the way now. It won't come up later.

It's none of his business.

Truly? I think the boy has a point.

Even her zanpakutou was against her in this.

She sighed heavily, picking at one brightly polished nail.

"The official story is that I was involved in an experiment on bankai. I was later given an order to assassinate those involved by oji-san. Right?"

He nodded.

"Well, that's all true, but it's the cleaned up version." She scoffed. "Central didn't think the full truth of what had gone on needed to be aired. I agreed; it's personal, and humiliating. But I hate lying."

"So what really happened, then?" he asked.

"I was one of seven people—that I know of—experimented on. I didn't have any memory of the event. I went to Juro to have him recover the missing time I was experiencing." She chanced a look at him. "It was worse than we had thought."

"I can only imagine. But this isn't so bad, taichou. If it was members of Central and Zero, there's no need to be embarrassed that they were able to capture you."

"If only," she snorted, shaking her head.

"Then—"

"I was raped, you idiot." She saw the comprehension written in his face. "I didn't leave because of any experiment, or because I was embarrassed they had been able to take me down, I left because I was raped and thought I was pregnant and oji-san hadn't believed me when I told him. Well, that and I was crazier than Urahara for a while after. I believe they now call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, although when I defected there was no such term, and, therefore, no treatment."

He nodded, his mouth hanging open in shock.

"It only gets worse. One of the men involved spent a great deal of time in the human world, basically getting close to me and making sure I wasn't a liability. I thought I was in love," she said mockingly. "I soon realized I wasn't, but only after having almost gotten engaged. I ended it, but he was a constant in my life for years afterwards."

"He wasn't the one—"

"Of course he was. The illustrious Matsu that Juushirou's always bringing up? Yeah. He thinks I need to talk about it to really get over it all, but what he doesn't realize is—the fact that I can sit here and tell this story somewhat calmly, that's progress enough. I've buried it. It's done."

"Good God, taichou." She could see it building in him, now, that look of pity and remorse and guilt that all the men around her seemed to carry for something that wasn't their fault. It only made it worse, as far as she was concerned.

"Don't. I have obviously gotten over it. Don't make it worse."

"But—"

"You weren't there. It obviously wasn't your fault! God, I do not understand how you males can take and make this all about your personal failure!" She let her forehead thump against the table, sighing deeply before looking back up at him. "Just—don't."

He nodded, his face still ashen.

"Good. Now, if you don't mind, I have a stack of paperwork I'd like to get done in private."

He nodded, slowly standing and walking toward the door. She let her head fall to her hands and rubbed at her forehead, hoping the now-pounding headache would leave soon.

Fuck. What a day.

"Taichou?"

She looked up at him.

"Thank you for trusting me—no one will find out from me."

She nodded, and he left almost silently, heading to his own quarters from what she could tell.

Perhaps it hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

Perhaps it was finally over.

"You know, I'm quite sure I was supposed to meet you at your division."

She turned, startled, finally looking away from the peaceful scene outside her bedroom window to the man standing in the doorway. He looked tired—normal for this time of year, she had learned.

Fall and winter seemed to be worse on him.

Thankfully he hadn't been in the hospital much, although there had been almost a full week last month that she had spent running between their divisions and the Fourth while he lingered in an uncomfortable hospital bed. It wasn't life-threatening, though, which was all that mattered anymore. He could be ill all he wanted as long as it wasn't threatening his immediate future.

"Sorry," she murmured, sending her lover a small smile in apology.

She turned back to the window, but she could see his reflection in the glass as he stepped up behind her, his large hands somewhat cold even through her layers.

"Bad day? I did speak to Shunsui—everyone is already here, you know—and he said that you were in quite good spirits this afternoon."

"Shuuhei," she growled. He nodded, a quirky smile on his face as he leaned down to press a kiss to her hair. "Questions and more questions. I'm so tired of questions."

"It is still recent. Give them time…soon it will be as forgotten as everything else is here."

"Oh? You're just as bad as the rest."

"For a very different reason. You know that, Minako. They are curious, worried but also wanting to know exactly what happened to their friend…I just care about you."

She nodded, squeezing his hand before stepping to the side.

"I don't feel like doing this tonight."

"C'mon, it's a very special night." He took her arm, gently guiding her from the room. "Besides, if Genryuusai-sensei must go, then we must go. He won't let us get out of it."

"I know," she said exasperatedly.

"It is very important, Minako."

"You guys don't even celebrate it right! The Jidai Matsuri is supposed to be celebrated in Kyoto and it's usually celebrated during the day, not at night. Why do you guys even celebrate the relocation of the capitol? It's not like it affects you all. It's not like Kyoto is the capitol anymore, either…"

"No," he laughed. "But the seven ages of Japanese history do matter to us, therefore we celebrate. We just do it in our own way."

"It's not even an old festival."

"It was brought back to us in the human 1960's I believe, and we adopted the tradition."

"Ridiculous," she muttered, right as the turned from the long hallway separating the private rooms from the public areas of the large house. Her uncle and his other student were already waiting on them in the large reception room, with Nanao and Akane to the side, looking very nervous.

Akane she could understand, but Nanao? Surely this wasn't her first year serving as Shunsui's escort to this thing.

"Finally," her uncle muttered. "Let's go."

They all headed through the main doors, Hikaru fluttering about and fixing their kimono—she absolutely hated wearing this crap—or fussing about their hems. Even the men were picked at, which was the only saving grace as far as she was concerned.

They surely made quite the picture, all eight of them dressed in fine kimono and traipsing along through the Yamamoto gardens.

Suddenly, though, there was a squawk, and what sounded like very expensive silk ripping. She saw a flash of red as Akane fled, her kimono hiked up her legs indecently, and then Nanao was laughing so hard she was bent nearly in half.

"What are you fools—"

"Did you deserve that, Shunsui?" she heard Juushirou ask from her left, right about the same time Akane yelled out a very unapologetic, almost sarcastic, "sorry!"

They all stopped, clumped together on the front lawn of the house, and peered down at the hem of her former taichou's very bright, very pink, formal outer kimono. There was an obvious rip at the hem of the expensive fabric that correlated to the exact size of Akane's foot.

They all stared at the man in the middle of them.

"I didn't do anything!"

"Liar!" Akane shouted from her safe zone halfway across the lawn to the deserted house her mother once occupied.

"Ise-fuku-taichou?"

The young woman in question looked at the sou-taichou and nodded.

The sou-taichou popped him across the back of the head with his cane. Akane, now feeling it was safe enough to return to the procession, gingerly crossed over to the group. Instead of getting in front of Shunsui, though, she stuck next to Sasakibe.

Shunsui pouted as Nanao glared at him evilly.

"I couldn't help it," he whined pitifully to his girlfriend, who only continued glaring as they all began walking, once again, to the local shrine.

"More like he couldn't pass up a prime opportunity to get one over on one of the few females he's never groped," Minako muttered to the man next to her. He covered his mouth, faking a cough to hide his laughing.

"Be quiet, you two!"

They both shut up immediately—apparently Shunsui's stunt had already pissed the Yamamoto head off more than was good for anyone in his vicinity.

"But she ripped my lovely new kimono, my Nanao-chan!"

"You deserved it, baka."

"Promise me we won't end up like that," she whispered to her lover, who nodded forcefully.

"Be quiet! Minako-dono, at your age you should know how to behave! This is a solemn festival!"

"Hai, Hikaru-san." She caught her lover's bright, laughing gaze. "Yet they don't get yelled at. Only the heir, obviously."

She sent her lover a quick grin and squeezed his hand, her way of letting him know her earlier sour mood was gone. It couldn't stick around long with the antics of this group.

But she couldn't help it.

Her uncle was alive. Hikaru was alive and well. Her taichou was alive and happy, Nanao was happy, even Akane looked happier than she had ever seen the girl. She had fit into the family so well that it was hard to imagine her not being there with them. And—she looked to the left—she had a man at her side that she could trust, that she could believe in, that she knew cared for her.

Peace washed over her.

It wouldn't stay this way, she knew. Something would once again happen that would threaten the happiness they had found. But it wouldn't be today, or next week. It was in the future—a future she wasn't worrying about.

She was too happy in the present, enjoying her time with those she loved.
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The Noble Sort