What if I'm a snowstorm burning?

Alone in her room, Kazahana sits on her bed with the crystal resting on the pillow, meditating as best she can for a good hour before she picks it up. There's no guarantee that this will work. She's never heard of anyone forcing a specific memory before; it's entirely possible that she'll remember something inconsequential, like going out to eat or taking a bath.

Then again, she's learned something important from every other crystal she's found. And this...this is so important. Is she Hakuteiken's wife, or was it a horrible misunderstanding? What is their connection? Who is she? If she concentrates on this burning desire to remember, to know, then maybe something in Edensphere will remember what it owes her and acquiesce.

Enough dithering. It's time. She touches the crystal with two fingers and immediately the memory washes over her.

It's dark; she can't see, but she can feel a dry breeze ruffle her hair, and she can hear with perfectly clarity.

"R----, is that you?"

"Yes, brother."

These voices she knows; it's Hakuteiken, and herself. She can feel her lips move to form the wards, followed by the touch of their hands as she hesitantly takes his. He sounds tired, almost...defeated. Is he injured?

"I want to tell you something..."

The memory moves on before she can wonder what has happened to him. Hakuteiken has rarely spoken to her with such candor, even now. He speaks of a dead woman, his wife, lost years before. Hisana. It's not her.

Another woman was his wife. That woman is dead. And her? Where did she come from? His voice is quiet but strong as he speaks. "Hisana was your sister."

A sister. She barely registers the next part--Hisana was older, and abandoned her as an infant. Kiba had been right! She had been the baby, and she had been left, and the one who abandoned her had married Hakuteiken, and made him promise to find her. In the memory, Kazahana hears all of this and knows that this is the first time she's ever heard it, from Hakuteiken or otherwise.

"I swore in front of my parents' grave that it would be the last time in breaking the rules, and from that time on, no matter what happens...I would follow and defend the rules to the end."

There's a note of finality in his tone, but also relief, like he's finally let go of a long-carried burden. Right now, she thinks she knows how that feels. As his last words fade in the still, silent air, the memory washes away too, and when she opens her eyes again, she's back home.

And she knows.

[OOC: Taken from chapter 179 of Bleach, p. 7 to p. 15.]