Fracturing Serenity.

Author's Note:-

Welcome back to those who are following my mini 'Serenity' series. I present to you, the second story.

I need to stop trying to set myself a deadline with my updates, I never stick to them. Simply because of work and plush making (second job) and that I have a strange way of writing. I physically can not draft, I write without notes, but I write like a paragraph or two at a time, or a particular scene and then weave the story from there, so my updates are sparse and irregular. Rest assured that I do have three other chapters/stories in various stages of progress and will eventually make it up here.

I love the RenRuki pairing. Hell, I love pretty much all Renji pairing's, the guy is just so easy to pimp off to pretty much anyone in the Bleach Universe, however, RenRuki is my fav het pairing and I love being able to finally hook the two little street urchins up together.

In this installment we find the pair as a focus point for two other characters who will end up playing a fairly large role in the rest of the series. It is my first time writing either Byakuya or Ukitake and having two nobles with slightly different formalities in their speaking was kinda hard to balance. I have done my darndest to keep Byakuya very formal in his speech, relaxing my strictness a little for Ukitake and finally, when we get to Renji speaking, he will from now on have a roughened edge to his speech. I kinda imagined him with more of a street drawl, and now I'm getting the hang of writing it (you will see in later chapters.)

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.

(Edited on 29/03/2012)

Disclaimer:- I do not own, nor to I make any claims to, Bleach and/or its characters and storyline. I am simply a late-to-the-party fan who enjoys fanfiction, both reading it and writing it. The only profit I make from this is the knowledge that I may, perhaps, encourage others to venture more into the Bleach Universe by helping to keep the fandom alive alongside the thousands of other fans.

Chapter One. Fractured Illusions.

Tentative fingers of sunlight caressed the elegant structures that jutted skyward. Golden tendrils of warmth pursued the dawn chill from the shadows cast by the Seireitei's boundary walls, the bland white of sekkiseki glowing silver against the pastel colours that streaked the skies. However, despite the early hour, several Shinigami silently patrolled the mostly empty streets, nudging awake the occasional drunken lower officer still sprawled from a night of heavy drinking and sending them toward their assigned division's barracks with a sharp reprimand ringing through their sake soaked skulls. Other Shinigami used this time to enjoy a moment of peace and quiet before needing to report in to their barracks and receive their orders and duties assigned for the day. Blissful moments like these were scarce now, the war was not yet won and tempers had shortened considerably since the betrayal of the three ex-taichō, training efforts had redoubled in attempt to prepare for the upcoming final battle.

Which was why, behind the barracks of the Sixth division, two Shinigami circled each other warily, Zanpakutou unsheathed and angled toward the other. Both were formidable warriors, with each of them boasting different strengths, that fact was undeniable; however, their recent stint in Hueco Mundo as part of an unofficial rescue team had proven as little more than evidence that they were simply not ready for the former taichō Aizen and his army.

'Now roar, Zabimaru!' His rich voice shattered the calm morning air with the command. Spirit energy shimmered and flared wildly under the broad palm as it skimmed over the katana blade, releasing the savage form of his Shikai. Renji's lips quirked in pride at the sight of his Zanpakutou, the shudder of raw power that radiated from the hilt in his hand and the deeply powerful voice of the nue as it bellowed a battle cry that throbbed and echoed in his mind. He lifted his ruby hued eyes to his opponent, a slight female Shinigami with heavily lidded eyes, as dark a blue -almost indigo- as the midnight skies on a moonless night. She looked so delicate, almost like a doll, barely reaching his shoulder when standing and, even now, with his knees bent and his shoulders dropped in readiness, her forehead would scarcely reach his jaw and yet, when Rukia raised her chin, it was with elegance and the dominating presence that marked her as a noble.

Her katana chimed a haunting melody as she twisted her wrist in a counter clockwise motion and her lilting voice called to her Soul Cutter. 'Dance, Sode no Shirayuki.' Chilling winds coiled around the small Shinigami's body, stirring the silken black strands that fell neatly around her delicate cheeks and skimmed her shoulders. From the pure white pommel an ivory silken ribbon now flowed, a manifestation of the crystalline flakes of her spirit energy that flurried and twirled elegantly, accentuating her graceful movements. Sode no Shirayuki, reputed as the most beautiful Zanpakutou in all of the Seireitei, sparkled like cut diamonds in her hands. Fragile and cold and very, very dangerous, a perfect partner for Rukia Kuchiki.

Renji felt his throat tighten instinctively against the eager rumbling of a growl that vibrated up from his chest, trying to restrict the animalistic sound. Red heat crept along his neck, embarrassed by the brutish habit that had developed as he battled his way through the ranks in the Eleventh division. He set his jaw as he reined himself back in check mentally, reminding himself; as well as the battle hungry nue, his soul partner, that this was simply a sparring session, and that he was facing not only a comrade that he had fought alongside and protected in dozens of fierce battles but a woman he was now closer to than he ever was when they had been children growing up in the slums of the Rukongai. Zabimaru snarled a sharp retort, an insult directed at his master's sensitivity and reluctantly backed down, the shuddering hilt eased in the Shinigami's palm a moment before the smaller of the two rushed forward into battle.

Byakuya Kuchiki watched the exchange of blows as his younger sister, both adopted and in-law, was easily deflected by the swing of his fukutaichō. Held neatly in his hands were forgotten reports that he had left in the charge of his second in command the night before, and on his tongue, the sharp lecture he would lash his headstrong young charge with for neglecting his administrative duties. As his slate grey eyes flickered from one warrior to the next he watched the bulk that was Renji narrowly dodge the shimmering blade slicing toward his throat by dropping low, his weight supported on the ball of one foot and a palm as he threw out the other foot in an attempt to sweep Rukia's ankle, he was impressively agile for a man of his stature. However, the young woman was much faster, her small figure easily avoiding the limb with a skip to her right and she retaliated with an immediate kidō spell, disregarding the incantation and dampening the power of the blast before launching the crackling red ball of energy at her sparring partner. Surprisingly, Renji countered with his own Shakkahō, despite his lack of efficiency in performing kidō, his blast countered that of Rukia's and exploded on impact, succeeding in reducing Rukia's attack until it held little more hindrance than providing the taller Shinigami with a dust cloud to conceal his movements.

'Impressive, isn't it? How far they have both come in such a short time.'

Byakuya gave no reaction to the voice behind him. No indication that he was surprised to find the other here, on his division's training grounds so early in the morning, or that he'd even heard Jūshirō Ukitake's compliments of the young Shinigami below. Yet, his cold aloofness didn't deter the white haired taichō from settling himself beside the elder of the two Kuchiki siblings and continuing with his commentary of the sparring below. 'It's rather difficult to believe now, isn't it? That young Abarai-fukutaichō had such little skill for kidō after he graduated, and less in his patience and desire to strengthen that weakness. And now, he is a changed man, dutifully embracing that flaw and working to correct it. I believe that credit is yours as his taichō.' Ukitake smiled warmly as his soft eyes observed the wickedly deadly blade of Zabimaru as its segments extended and tore through the dust shield, careening toward the petite female, only to be deflected by a flurrying upstroke of Sode no Shirayuki. 'And then, of course, there is your sister's progression.'

Slowly Byakuya slid his gaze just far enough for him to peer at his uninvited companion without need to incline his head. Ukitake's discussing with him the improvements of the two Shinigami directly associated to him obviously had a purpose, though the purpose of such talk would not be divulged before the man deemed it necessary to do so, so Byakuya would endure the prattle to learn the meaning behind the words.

'She has progressed admirably, despite the many hindrances and complications that she has had to endure these past years. She is intelligent and resourceful. The lower seats in the Thirteenth division find her approachable and considerate to their plights, whereas the higher seats respect her for the sheer determination that she possesses.' Ukitake tilted his head toward the dark haired man and studied the single chilled orb that angled toward him, the gentle taichō then smiled warmly despite knowing Byakuya would never return the expression.

'I sense that, for some reason, you are purposely avoiding your point, Ukitake-sempai.' Byakuya stated flatly, his eyes turning back to the pair below in time to watch as Rukia flashed toward the taller male and skimmed her blade over Renji's bicep where taut flesh split and a fine crimson mist sprayed into the air. ' And yet, if you feel it to be so important to discuss at such an uncivilized hour, I would appreciate it greatly if you would simply state what it is instead of having me endure your rather clumsy attempts at shrewdness.'

The smile on the Thirteenth division's taichō's lips faltered briefly at the clipped tone and flare of impatience in the usually unshakable Shinigami before him, and though the turn of his lips remained, the intensity dimmed. 'Oh, you have my apologies Kuchiki-taichō; I didn't realize that my words were a cause of distress for you.' Another shrill clang rent the air as Sode no Shirayuki wedged her shimmering blade against the pick like fang of Zabimaru and used the joining as leverage to whirl his wielder around in an attempt to unsteady his stance. But the Shinigami, despite his size and strong frame, was surprisingly nimble. Renji skittered easily around in the tight circle and smirked. Laying his palm against the dull edge of Zabimaru, he steadied himself and then threw his weight forwards, taking Rukia unaware as he twisted his wrist, the sword-play melding into a crude form of tug-o-war. Ukitake turned his own head to continue watching the mock battle for a moment before thick, dark lashes slipped over moss coloured orbs and bolstered his nerves before venturing his suggestion to the highly strung noble. 'I believe it is time to consider appointing Rukia a seated officer posit-'

'To what seat do you suggest?'

The lesser noble ignored the fact that the abrupt question had rudely cut across his words. As Byakuya had matured he had grown reluctant to actively participate in conversation, stating only the facts that he deemed necessary and not bothering much with the pleasantries or banter born of camaraderie. But it had not always been so. In his youth, the Kuchiki heir had been as hot tempered and brash as his current fukutaichō, always eager to inject his opinion and observations, whether he had been invited to do so or not however, that was deemed irrelevant by the young Kuchiki. The young Byakuya would enter discussions as eagerly as he participated in combat training, Senbonzakura drawn and battle cry already escaping his lips. And most discussions ended the same way, with him sporting cuts and bruises and a battered ego, before smiles of exhausted satisfaction would touch his lips and he limped reluctantly away, either toward the medical bay or his own barracks. Ukitake felt his lips twitch fondly at the memory, indulging himself briefly before clearing his throat. 'The fourth seat. She is strong, Byakuya, and I would like to hold her in consideration for progression to fukutaichō in due time.'

'That is out of the question.'

Ukitake's chin snapped toward the chilled dismissal, his lids parted and brow furrowed as he frowned, the usually soft energies that enveloped him taking on a hardened edge as his frustration grew. 'You refuse? For what reason?'

Steel cold eyes met his; an almost unnoticeable twitch in Byakuya's cheek rippled the unblemished pale skin as he spoke stiffly before returning his gaze to the fields below. 'Rukia is not yet ready to accept the responsibilities assigned to that role.'

'You give her so little credit; your sister has worked herself long and hard since her graduation. She has faced situations that most of our recruits would never be able to even fathom, let alone overcome and flourish under. And despite all of this, she has not once allowed bitterness to taint her loyalties, in light of the recent betrayals of high seated officers; her promotion to such a position would encourage hope and bolster resolve amongst our troops.' The white haired man closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for a few moments before releasing it quietly in an effort to quell his frustrations before it peaked into anger. 'Tell me then, what qualities does one expect to find in his fukutaichō if not those that she possesses.'

Byakuya raised his head slowly, his long lashes parted slowly to half-mast as he considered the frail man and the warring reiatsu that pulsed around him before simply turning away. His reason needed no explanation, the minute puckering of Byakuya's brow betrayed him only to those who knew him well enough to interpreted such an expression.

Jūshirō sighed heavily, a hand moving up to comb his fingers through the neat bangs that framed his face. 'This is not the same, Byakuya. You can't simply shield her from everything anymore. There is a war coming, people will be wounded, some will be killed, and your keeping her away from the front lines will hinder her more than help. The best you can do for her now is to help her train, prepare her for the dangers that loom ahead.' He saw tension in the younger man's jaw and a wavering control that darkened his stormy eyes. 'I understand that you feel you must honour your vow to your beloved wife, but Rukia is not Hisana. She is not only yours to protect.'

A brief flash of reiatsu whipped around the two men, a flash that carried the subtle hint of anger reflecting the emotion that his features would not as he turned sharply. 'The promise I made to my wife is not the reason for my rejection, Ukitake.' His straining temper caused him to disregard etiquette, the questioning of his actions and his pride frustrated him more than he'd expected. 'I refuse your proposal simply for the lack of experience. Rukia has never held a seated officer's position and therefore, she possesses little to none of the necessary skills one can only learn during active duty. To immediately award her such a high and responsible seat is foolish.'

A rough curse floated from the training field, drawing both men's focus back to the fighting below them, revealing that Renji had managed to knock aside Rukia's Zanpakutou and, in an attempt to keep the sparring fair, tossed his Zabimaru away as well, which now meant that the pair grappled at each other in hand to hand combat. The favor of this battle fell heavily against Rukia, for Renji seemed as though he were built for brawling and his childhood spent as their little family's sole protector had sharpened his instincts to an almost primal level. However, it was painfully clear that he was holding back and in doing so, he left himself vulnerable to Rukia as she threw out her foot and clipped his ankle a sharp blow.

Despite the trustworthiness he felt of his young fukutaichō, Byakuya knew well enough that the younger male was an opportunistic fighter. Rukia had inflicted damage, and now Renji would play act upon the severity of the injury whilst scouting for an opening to launch a counter attack, his desire for self-preservation now enveloping his self-control. He stumbled as he circled the smaller brawler, careful to allow the sharp edge of pain to touch his eyes and tighten his jaw as he integrated a slight drag to his limping. Like a mother bird mimicking a broken wing to lure predators away from her nest, Renji was preying on Rukia's natural instincts, in this case, the instinct to assist a wounded comrade. Ukitake chuckled softly from his seat, amused by the performance of the Sixth Division's second in command and that his own officer was being drawn in by his theatrics. Rukia rose from her stance, worry creasing her brow as she moved quickly to the man's side and placed a palm on his shoulder for stability as she lowered her head to inspect the injury.

A moment later Rukia found that same ankle hooking her knee, hands grabbing her wrists, and herself dropped ungracefully to the ground. Her startled cry drifted over the training compound toward the two taichō but it was lost to her giggles as Renji dropped over her, a boyish grin split his face as he jerked his head backward to avoid a playful swat to his ear, the slender fingers flicking the loosed red tresses that had tumbled free of both the tie and bandanna. While Ukitake found the bantering endearing, Byakuya was finding watching as the street roughened man's broad hands grabbed at wrists and powerful hips and thighs straddled and pinned as he leaned over her far more intimately than what was deemed appropriate for sparring partners to be fairly difficult for a brother, adopted or otherwise, to accept.

Sensing how the higher noble viewed this indignity, Ukitake cleared his throat and allowed his own reiatsu to swell and effectively push the quietly hot tempered man's own flare back under control. Byakuya whipped his chin toward the lesser noble; the tightness in his jaw and the dark flash in his eyes quickly confirmed the assumption that he considered this treatment of Rukia to be a serious blow to his pride and that of his clan. The clan that Rukia's late sister, Hisana, had married into as his own wife and therefore lead him to consider Rukia as a true Kuchiki heir; no matter what his elders argued.

'Calm yourself, Byakuya.' The white haired man crooned softly, as though dealing with a difficult child's tantrums. 'Do not take offense, hakuda is indeed an under practiced yet necessary skill. It is wise that they take this opportunity now to test themselves fully where they are reasonably safe as opposed to finding themselves needing these skills when at the mercy of an enemy.'

Byakuya's guarded eyes hardened. His pride rankled at the elder man's tone toward him. He was the head of the Kuchiki's, one of the highest ranked in Shinigami nobility and keepers of the Seireitei histories, whereas the Ukitake clan were barely influential beyond simple society standings, how dare he scoff at his indignity. 'You inform me of this as though I am a mere child, Ukitake-sempai. You feel that I do not remember my schooling?'

'That is untrue.' Ukitake chided. 'I feel that you are taking too much of this situation to heart. None of my words, nor Abarai-fukutaichō's actions are intended to cause you any distress or wound your honor.'

Cold fury rolled in waves from the older Kuchiki, though his features were as devoid of emotion as ever. It wasn't so much the other taichō's coddling that bothered him, as it was the sight of Renji holding the small woman down in such a manner. His face was hovering close to hers as he stretched his long torso over her petite frame, his hips settling weightily across her thighs, and then there was that smile. That roguishly charming curl of his lips, lop-sided and confident, which had so many of the female officers giggling over the young man as though they were still teenagers catching the eye of their first crush. That same smile he was now directing at his younger sister.

Rukia said something then and Renji sighed, shifting to free the female Shinigami and moving to settle beside her, his lips moving in conversation as he inspected his wounds and bruises with bright laughter. Rukia's head shook from side to side as she reached for his arm, holding her hand over the slice in the man's bicep as a feathery silver glow spread from under her fingers and a soft smile quirked her lips, her midnight eyes held nothing but pure emotion for the brute in her grasp. Renji's usual professional expression had given way to warmth that Byakuya felt had always been beyond his capabilities, his thick finger slid along the young woman's jaw and tucked an errant piece of hair behind her ear, affection obvious in his actions.

And then Renji leaned in, his lips moving over Rukia's while she uttered soft, encouraging sounds and curved herself tightly against the roughened man, pressing herself against his form, almost as though she wished to crawl into his lap.

Byakuya felt a flash of outrage that far out stripped his previous flares of temper. His gut clenched down hard at the images it summoned, Rukia's features twisting in his mind's eye to resemble those of her sister, Hisana, the woman that he had loved more than he had ever imagined he would. It felt like a betrayal, a slap to the face delivered of both his lost lover and his fukutaichō. Rage at himself whipped through his senses at that shameful thought but, despite him knowing it not to be his late wife, Byakuya's pride would not accept this. His muscles tensed, preparing to flash down to separate the embracing couple, and perhaps even, separate Renji's head from his shoulders in the process.

A blurred motion behind him barely registered in his usually keen senses. 'Don't do it, Byakuya!' Ukitake burst, his fingers curling around the other taichō's hiori and locking in a surprisingly strong grasp for such a frail looking man. 'I promise you, if you try to stop them, if you try to keep Rukia away from that man, you will lose her.'

Byakuya whirled around, bearing down on the other taichō, his reiatsu erupting and slamming against the frail man's own wall of spiritual power, hastily thrown up to both protect himself and contain their presence. 'This is a matter that holds no concern to the Ukitake fami-'

'But it holds the concern of an individual's taichō, as well as a colleague.' Ukitake cut in sharply, his warm eyes hardening as he held the enraged noble's furious gaze. 'Please, Byakuya, they are still young and they do nothing that is deserving of your wrath. Let us talk about this before you do irreparable damage to your relationship with both your sister as well as your fukutaichō.'

The distress in Byakuya's eyes, the warring of his emotions, was exposed to his peer for only a moment before his nobility training wrenched the mantle of control back into his grasp and hauled the shield of cold indifference back upon his face. Jūshirō slowly released the breath that had hitched painfully in his throat, cautiously recalling his calm reiatsu and settling himself once more, though his voice wobbled as he spoke. 'Did you never suspect?'

A pointed gaze, almost bordering on a glare met Ukitake's soft and open face. 'Clearly I did not.' The response was dull, flat. His surprise still threatened to sweep away his sense of rationality into the roiling torrents of confusion and anger. Lowering his eyes the noble struggled to process both the couple's intimacy as well as his own reaction to the tender moment that he had witnessed.

'Tell me something, Byakuya.' The voice was steady, steadier than it had been only moments before. Ukitake waited until the dark-haired man lifted his eyes to meet his own before continuing. 'Just how much do you know of Rukia's past during the time that you took Hisana as your wife?'

Byakuya blinked sharply, his fingers flexing at the mention of his lost love's name. 'Very little, Hisana knew not what happened after she left her sister that day and Rukia seldom speaks of her experiences before her adoption. Those rare instances where I am able to coax her into such discussions, she is extremely vague and guarded with her participation.'

'I see.' His lips pursed thoughtfully. 'And what of your knowledge of young Abarai, before he became your Fukutaichō?'

The barest crease puckered the flesh between masterfully sculpted brows. 'I fail to see the relevance. Abarai-fukutaichō is hardly the first Rukongai street child to rise through the ranks.'

'You are uninterested in his roots?'

'I am uninterested in irrelevant information.' Byakuya corrected stiffly. 'I know of his training history within the Seireitei, his movement amongst the divisions, which was all the knowledge I required of the young man before agreeing his promotion to fukutaichō of the Sixth.'

'And what of your own curiosity?'

The Kuchiki heir gave him a measured look, unsure of Ukitake's intentions, of where he would be guiding this conversation to, and even less sure that he would appreciate the conclusion. 'I had none. Abarai-fukutaichō was more than qualified for my needs, which satisfied my curiosity.'

'Perhaps that was a little short-sighted on your part.' The white taichō smoothed his hiori at his shoulders, a subconscious movement that indicated his discomfort with such a conversation. 'It is acceptable to be curious of those who you are expected to work so closely with. It builds strong bonds, something a commander needs in order to run a successful division.'

'That, Ukitake-taichō, is where your opinion and mine differ vastly.' Byakuya stated, his eyes flickered, almost as though he wished to glance toward the couple on the field and yet, he was uncomfortable with what he might witness. 'Curiosity serves as little more than gossip fodder. And my interest for gossip is non-existent as you are well aware.'

'I am.' Ukitake agreed as he shifted again. 'Can I ask you? When Rukia returned to you after that incident with Shiba-fukutaichō that resulted in his death, how did she behave?'

Byakuya blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. 'She was understandably distressed. However, she did not seek counsel nor guidance from myself, so I did not feel it necessary to pursue. I felt it to be best that she should grieve in her own manner.'

'Rukia was deeply afflicted by Shiba-fukutaichō's death.' Ukitake informed his colleague. 'I watched her as she curled up farther inside herself with each passing day. I noticed how thin she had grown, and how her training suffered, I even noticed that fear of abandonment had tainted her right to the scent of her reiatsu. She was so lost and alone, so completely vulnerable and she had no idea how she should grieve.' A quick and pointed glance pierced the younger noble with a hardened edge, distressed with the obvious lack of communication between the two siblings. Though it was understandable, Rukia was a very private individual and Byakuya was never inclined to pry.

'I grew concerned and approached her. She refused to admit that she was struggling with her grief,' he huffed out a humorless laugh. 'That damn Kuchiki pride, I imagine. But eventually she approached me, and so we talked. We talked about anything, anything to distract her from feeling as though hopelessness was all she had left to hold onto. She told me of her childhood, of the only friend she had. She spoke of a young boy who had taken her hand when she had needed someone the most. How, even though every day was a struggle, he made it worth fighting through, if only for the knowledge that she would once again fall asleep beside him, protected and cared for. As I learned more of this mysterious boy from her youth, I saw a flicker of light return to her eyes, a spark of the same Rukia Kuchiki that I had enrolled into my division. This boy that she spoke of, he was awakening her emotions once more, and so I asked more of him. She smiled fondly and spoke of how the boy was stubborn, rude, and explosive. Nothing was ever simple, everything was exciting and dramatic to him and she had not been able to keep herself from being swept along in his energetic activities. She told me how frightened he had been for her when she was struck with Rukon Fever and how it had been the very first and only time that she had ever seen him cry. The only time that she had ever seen her fears of loneliness and abandonment reflected in the eyes of one that she cared for, the first time that she realized just how much he needed her. She struggled to admit to me how much that it meant to her, the knowledge that her existence mattered. Mattered so much so, that he had frantically sought out medicine for her, that he had sat up each night, boiling water to purify it before allowing her to drink. Exhausting himself until he would flop over her lap finally and sleep, fists curled tightly around her yukata, clinging to her desperately. That, on the nights that he would settle before exhaustion took hold, he would curl up with her and use his own warmth to soothe her when the chills became so terrible that she trembled and sobbed. She told me that, when everyone else in their little group died, that same boy was always there. His hand always held out to her.'

Ukitake paused and swallowed thickly, recounting his discussion with Rukia pained him more than he'd expected. 'When I asked her more about the boy, where he was now, I will admit that I was surprised when her face fell and that she confirmed that he was here in the Seireitei. When I asked for his name so that I could send for him and he could comfort her, I was confused that she shook her head instead of revealing his name. She told me that he no longer held his hand out to her, that he had used that same hand to pass her into those of a man who could give her what he could not. Passed to someone who could give her everything that she would need to secure her a successful life. What she needed, but not what she wanted.'

The dark haired man felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. He did not like where this conversation was leading. And to further twist his knot of discomfort, he found himself to be pained that Rukia had never talked so openly with him as she did her taichō.

'She finally relented; she finally told me the boy's name, after so many failed attempts to coax the information from her.' Ukitake lifted his eyes and fixed them on Byakuya's. 'That boy, he was Renji Abarai.'

Byakuya felt his heart plummet; felt pain swell inside him as though he'd taken a fist to the gut. His fukutaichō had grown up with Rukia, had protected her and cared about her long before he strode into her life to play her hero, a role that he had, thus far, failed to fulfil.

'That man meant everything to Rukia as a child. If you try to keep them apart, now that they are finally reunited, you will lose her affections for you. And as for Abarai, you will lose his respect and loyalty.' A hand gently cupped Byakuya's shoulder as the pale man leaned to the noble's ear. 'Is your pride so important that it's worth destroying a bond such as theirs? Is it worth hurting that woman, a woman that so many are willing to risk their lives for? Is it worth betraying your promise to your beloved Hisana, to protect her little sister?' He pulled back to look the younger noble in the eye, a hardened edge creeping into his voice. 'Is it not time that you loosened your hold on Rukia's hand and perhaps, return her back to Abarai's care? He put his faith in you to take care of her when he could not. Prove to him now, your faith in his strength and devotion to her and take a step back. You will always be connected to her, no-one can take that from you. You will always be her brother Byakuya, but brothers are not the only men sisters require in their lives. Share her now, with him.'

Ukitake moved around his comrade, fingers sliding from his shoulder as he did so. His hiori flapping as he stepped purposefully toward the gate that would lead him away from the training grounds of Division Six and back into the alleys of the Seireitei, to those same alleys that would carry him toward his own divisions section. Time had escaped them during their discussions and he had paperwork to prepare for Rukia Kuchiki's eventual promotion.

As the white taichō left, Byakuya turned his attentions back to the couple below. They had, thankfully, parted their kiss and were on their feet once more, gathering their Zanpakutou and brushing dirt from their shihakusho. Pausing, but only for a moment, as Renji skimmed his fingers along her jaw once more, a frown tugging his tattooed brow over his eyes as he gingerly inspected a flourishing bruise that marked her porcelain skin, before reaching to her hair and plucking a twig tangled in her raven tresses. They were talking now, their voices little more than wordless noise swirling on the breeze.

Byakuya pressed the heel of his palm to his temple, he had been presented with a vast quantity of new information to process and he could feel a migraine stirring behind his eyes. Perhaps Ukitake–taichō was correct, perhaps now was the time to entrust his fukutaichō with the only woman, aside from his wife, who had ever held his heart in her hand. Their relationship had not always been a simple one, filled with torn loyalties and misunderstandings, but those flaws had only served to strengthen their bond as adopted siblings. But now, could he really allow Renji to step forward and once more become the prominent male figure in Rukia's life as she seemed to desire? He wasn't sure.

Turning on his heel, Byakuya Kuchiki slid noiselessly into the structure behind him and headed toward his office. He would consider this new development seriously, but not right now, he did, after all, still have a division to run and forgotten reports to complete.

Unless I grip the sword, I cannot protect you. While gripping the sword, I cannot embrace you~ Bleach- Tite Kubo

And that is the first chapter of the second of my 'Serenity' series begun. For those who are reading the series I send you hugs cos you are awesome.

Please hit the little review button, I like reading your views on my stories; I like and appreciate constructive criticism as well. I am not much of a devoted author, my fanfictions are basically a way to empty the words that eddy around my brain and, on occasion, slip out when I wish they wouldn't.

I look forward to hearing your views.

~Voicey.