She took the hard way -- the human way up. She climbed the ladder and pretended that she was just as she appeared, no shinigami skills, no flsh-steps that allowed her to leap nimbly from one building to the next. Just a woman some twenty-odd years and every bit as mortal as the rest of the populace on good, old earth.

It helped her think.

"Do you plan to brood here all night?" She asked.

It also delayed the obvious.

Her hands should hurt, but they didn't. And her face was chilled by the wind. Other than that she was fine. And if she didn't pay attention to how her heart seemed to be holding it's breath (if heart could, for that matter, hold breaths), she'd really believe that she was.

Fine. That is.

They'd been on rooftops before, some of them nicer than this one. The scene was similar too, though reversed this time around. As it were, it was she more often than not who preferred to sit above what she could of Seireitei to achieve a moment of peace for herself and for her thoughts. Consequently, it was more often Gin who ambled by to check on her -- or to tease her. Whichever came first.

"Gin," she started and then stopped there. The swatch of cloth was tucked on her shoulder, beneath the cloth of her gi. It made it presence known in an unobtrusive way, just by being there, while she watched his back -- and the way the wind ran it's unseen fingers through his hair.

He'd gotten tall. She thought suddenly. And that was her most grevious error.