CHAPTER 1 – "Comfort and Safety"

Kuchiki-Taichou stood calm and expressionless, his hooded eyes observing his fukutaichou's effort. He waited…and waited…and there it was. A ball of red light materialized above Renji's outstretched palm. Size of a small orange, it wavered hesitantly and then shot off in the direction of the target. The red ball hit the wooden board with a pop, energy dissipating instantly.

"Better, Abarai-fukutaichou." His voice was level as always, uninflected with emotion but if one looked carefully, a stir of excitement would be visible in the otherwise dull, slate-gray eyes. Some members of the 6th division were exploding their targets even without an incantation. Not recruits, surely, but even recruits had a better command of kido than their lieutenant. Byakuya's eyes betrayed the tiniest hint of excitement because this time, there was a significant improvement. This time, Abarai Renji actually hit the target he aimed for.

The recruits sighed in relief. Renji straightened his shoulders with satisfaction. He did kido and nobody got hurt – not like last time, which was, after all, the reason why Kuchiki-taichou took over the 6th squad's kido practice.

"Again."

His captain's cold, smooth command carried to his ears. He allowed a breath of the brisk morning air settle in his center, then he slowly let it to escape through lips partially open, brow furrowed in concentration. Previous instructions were still ringing in his ears.

"Ground and center. Relax and visualize. Breathe."

Renji gathered his reiatsu, eyes closed, incantation flowing from his lips with his long, controlled exhale. He'd do better. Bigger. Stronger. He'd prove his worth to his captain… Unworthy, a tiny voice whispered in his mind. A fukutaichou who raises his blade against his taichou is unworthy…Renji's mental landscape shifted from control grounded in breathing to images several weeks old, a vivid aftermath of his involvement in the Rukia affair. Ichimaru Gin's zanpakuto extending itself with unpredictable speed. Kuchiki-taichou's shunpo intercepting the strike intended for Kuchiki Rukia…an image of his captain lying in a pool of blood. His breathing forgotten, he felt a surge of latent anger and fear.

"Abarai!" Kuchiki-taichou's normally calm voice was tinged, very slightly, with alarm. Renji opened his eyes to see a fireball the size of a large door hover above his outstretched hand. He tried to send the ball of energy to its intended target, he nudged it, but the sphere refused to separate from him and it grew and grew –

-BANG.

XXXXXXX

Searing pain woke him. He saw the blue sky above Seireitei, his captain bending over him, gray eyes slightly widened betraying something akin to…concern? Since when did his captain feel concern for…him? For anyone?

"Abarai-fukutaichou. Keep still." Renji shut his eyes closed, not seeing a pair of slender, tekkou-clad hands and a glow of green light. He felt his pain recede somewhat. Time passed.

"He seems to have just the burns on his hands, Kuchiki-Taichou. We'll take him to the 4th."

"Dismissed until after lunch." Kuchiki-taichou turned his back on his unit, his white haori and pale scarf stirred by the wind of his passing. He could no longer stand to see the sight of agony in his fukutaichou's face, the tears of pain making their way unbidden from between the tightly shut lids, sharp teeth biting the lower lip to keep sound from escaping.

Abarai Renji's prone body, crumpled on the grass, brought forth an image of another day, another time when his lieutenant had lain by his feet.

Unforgivable, the Kuchiki heir's thoughts ran through well-worn channels of guilt and remorse.

What kind of a captain unleashes his bankai on his lieutenant and almost kills him? What kind of a brother works to have his sister executed?

The knowledge that Renji's instincts on the Rukia affair were right, and his were wrong deepened his sorrow. Renji possessed such conviction that his cause was just, such cocky confidence in his abilities, such raw courage and determination that he, however torn within, stood up to him – one of the most feared captains of Gotei 13.

Byakuya fingered the scarf around his neck. The windflower silk heirloom, passed to him by his grandfather Kuchiki Ginrei, now bore a pale stain where the blood could not be washed out. Renji's blood. Blood that was still on his hands. Byakuya didn't expect this priceless symbol of respect and high regard to come back to haunt him…yet when Abarai Renji offered the washed, repaired length of silk carefully folded in his large hands with downcast eyes, Byakuya could not refuse its return. He deserved to have his fukutaichou make this resounding act of judgment against him, his gesture spurned.

Byakuya fought to keep his shoulders from slumping, his noble demeanor unmarred by imperfection in carriage, his facial mask impassive. He could always bury his feelings in the oblivion of divisional paperwork.

XXXXXXX

Eyebrows and hairline singed, face red with burns and his hands bandaged, Abarai Renji looked at the stacks on his and his captain's desk with a familiar feeling of guilt. Kuchiki-taichou's unexpected personal involvement in basic training had the 6th division office late on paperwork – and that has never happened before

If only he wasn't such a bumbling incompetent who almost blew up one of his own recruits…if he wasn't so impulsive…if he was a faster reader and a faster writer…if he was more like Kuchiki-taichou. If he hadn't challenged his captain with his sword unsheathed. If Kuchiki-taichou wasn't severely wounded by Ichimaru Gin while …if he'd been able to fight by his captain's side instead of impotently lying on the ground…if, if, if.

He looked at Byakuya's face, seeing the tightness there. Tired shoulders forcefully pulled back as the grey eyes narrowed, weighing the papers to sign, reports to read.

"Taichou…," his voice was unsteady, hesitating. "Would you like me to make some tea?"

Kuchiki Byakua lifted his eyes to his lieutenant, noting the way the broad shoulders pulled inward as to be less visible, the glimpse of concern in downcast eyes.

He used to meet my gaze so freely…

He eyed Abarai's bandaged hands and suddenly felt oppressed by his subordinate's presence. Bearing witness to his pain summoned inconvenient feelings from under the surface of his impassive mask.

"No, thank you, Abarai. I shall make the tea today. Go supervise the sword drills."

As Kuchiki Byakuya disappeared into the small kitchen, he halted to feel Abarai Renji's reiatsu spike with enough force to stir the air, dislodging the topmost papers on his stacks.

These spikes came with his fukutaichou's new bankai. The formerly supressed reiatsu would occasionally flare so brightly he could feel it across Seireitei. So wild. So untamed. And untamed power was dangerous.

XXXXXXX

Yamamoto-soutaicho's voice resounded through the meeting hall.

"The team tracking down the reiatsu anomaly in Karakura needs to be able to perform reiatsu tracking and kido self-defense from a gigai, as well as navigate the World of the Living."

He looked up the rows of his captains and their lieutenants. Gotei 13 was stretched thin after Aizen's betrayal. All divisions were rushing the training of new recruits and improving the skills of experienced shinigami. The soutaichou rapped his staff against the floor impatiently.

"Remote readings using the 12th division's equipment give us only limited information. We need to identify and evaluate the risk posed by this…entity. I need volunteers."

"I can think of someone who could use a field trip," Kyoraku's lazy, almost joyful voice sounded as he moved his sekkat back on his head a little. "I suggest Kuchiki-taichou could easily do kido out of a gigai."

Kuchiki-taichou's eyes widened in alarm. He was the last person who could afford to leave for a few days.

"I must say, that's an excellet idea," Ukitake chimed in as thought the notion was new to him. "I'd volunteer to go, but my health has been an issue."

Yamamoto-soutaichou closed his eyes in thought. Moments passed before they were fixed on the pale countenance of the 6th division captain.

"Kuchiki-taichou. Do you feel able to accept a 3-day mission to the real world?"

Kuchiki Byakuya had no desire to leave his unit for a foray in a gigai. His paperwork was threatening to overwhelm the office. Intelligence information needed to be collated, recruits trained. His silence was rather protracted.

"Are you able?" the Soutaichou repeated.

"I am. However, my unit's responsibilities…I am concerned about leaving with my fukutaichou injured."

Eyes of many turned surrepetitiously toward Renji, whose blush was obscured by the red of his recent kido burns. He could lead troops, but the painful burns on his hands precluded him using either a pen or a sword.

Useless fukutaichou. Can't do anything right.

He felt the curious stares of others, taking in his peeling face, new skin still pink and delicate, crimson eyebrows and hair slowly growing back. Only his tattoos did not change, for those were imprinted upon his very body and soul by Zabimaru.

"If I may, this could work out very well." Unohana-taichou's voice was soft and pleasant. "Kuchiki-taichou's kido expertise and Abarai-fukutaichou's knowledge of the Living World is a good combination. Abarai-fukutaichou would be of more use inside a gigai. Both can use this time to further their healing." She smiled kindly in Abarai's direction.

"Since I support the proposal, my unit can pick up some of the paperwork," Ukitake said.

"So can mine," chimed in Kyoraku, with Ise Nanao glaring at his back, knowing it would be her staying late, not her captain.

Yamamoto-soutaichou's voice resonated with satisfaction. "It's decided, then. Dismissed."