The Placebo Effect
Byakuya Kuchiki.
When hearing this name, there are several immediate thoughts that we are faced with.
Raise your hand if you thought of a raven haired noble, who defines elegance and grace with but a sideways glance. Thank you. You may put your hands down.
Raise your hand if you thought of a powerful shinigami, the wielder of Senbonzakura, the 'Pink Wave', who has pure reiatsu coming out the whazoo. Thank you.
Raise your hand if you thought of a rectal pole.
Please sit down, Mr Kurosaki, and stop shouting "ME! ME!". Please, Mr Kurosaki... Thank you, Mrs Kuchiki. Yes, Ichigo, if you must, you may leave to see a doctor.
Anyway. To tell a story about the stoic, beautiful lord is usually enough to put most hyperactive 5-year-olds to sleep. So I am not going to tell a tale about Byakuya Kuchiki: the proud, unemotional prince, but I will tell a story about the noble when he is anything but.
The story starts at a celebration, but by no means ends there...
"Happy 500th Birthday, Byakuya!"
Rounding a corner in the 6th division barracks, intending to head into a training hall, the captain of said division came upon the most important people in his life sitting around a large rectangular table and a smaller circular one.
Around the sides of the larger table were the more prominent members of the 13 Court Guard Squads. Byakuya could list each of them by name and rank, being the keen historian that he was, and was astounded to see that every current captain and lieutenant was in attendance of what was apparently a surprise party. Soi Fon, Komamura, even the Sōtaichi was sitting at the modest table, apparently mingling with his two eldest students, in the small, smelly room of the 6th division barracks.
Around the small, round table sat what would appear to be the unseated guests. No, scratch that, Renji was amongst them. This must be the really important people, for those closer than colleagues. Renji sat next to Ichigo, and it was clear that the two had been sitting there for a while, for they both had one hand on the others face, while the other waved a greeting to the Birthday Boy. It seems Byakuya walking in had disrupted whatever argument they were having. His presence was much more successful than his sister; she had one foot in the Ryokas' back, and an arm around his neck. The nervous, toothy smile she had on was nearly sufficient enough to get a chuckle out of the 500-year-old shinigami.
Almost.
What made the noble most inwardly agitated was that while Rukia sat to the left of an empty seat, probably intended for him, Shihouin Yoruichi had chosen to sit to the right of the seat. But Byakuya would not let any emotion of frustration or embarrassment show in his facial features; he bowed slightly to his audience (he noticed a few bowed back) and said:
"Pardon my lateness, but I was unaware of any plans for a get-together in my (vast) honour."
This drew many blank or deadpan faces, but they were expecting no less from the nobleman. However, the comment got a chuckle from three of the guest; the demon-cat laughed, Unohana giggled, and Kyoraku snickered.
"Well," Shunsui said, "next century, we will inform you of when and where the surprise party is!"
"We'll even ask you what kind of cake you want, Byakuya-bo!" Yoruichi added. Ukitake joined in on the laughter, and Yachiru joined in for the sake of it.
To this, Byakuya took the literal meaning. "That would be superb. And for the record, I believe ice-cream cake is most enjoyable." (Not noticed by Byakuya, Renji kicked Rukia under the table, and mumbled "Pay up") "But, I really must be off to training. There is a new kind of Kido spell I've come across that I wish to quickly learn, so I must dedicate some time to practice. Would you possibly be able to enjoy my surprise party without me?"
Those who had stopped laughing to listen had started laughing again (Yachiru joined in, because laughing was always a great deal of fun). The lord had thought the comment was rather ironic, as well, but as a noble, he should keep up the 'playing dumb' act.
It would appear Yamamoto was acting dumb, as well (Actually, the General doesn't play dumb. He plays 'Now You Die!©'. It sold well in Japan). "Captain Kuchiki, that is the worst excuse I've heard since these two (indicating Shunsui and Ukitake) were lads. In any case, we are here for a dual purpose today. So please take a seat."
Nobody noticed Zaraki's eyes light up at the word 'dual', thinking there might be some action here after all.
Wondering how the old man had seen through his lie, the obedient noble did as he was told. He hadn't wanted to ruin a perfectly good party with his presence, but if it was not only a party, then he would do well to find out.
In his seat he faced the larger table, with his back to a wall. From here he could see every face and torso in the room; Unohana had very subtle make-up on, Mayuri was wearing his mane, Komamura had brushed his hair, which would have taken a considerable amount of time, Iba was wearing his reflecting glasses, Kenpachi had his decorative bells on and Matsumotos' shikahusho was even more revealing than usual. Somehow.
In his more immediate vicinity, Rukia had her hair up, Ichigo had Zangetsu in its un-released state, Renji had his hair up, and Yoruichi had her old Shihouin family dress on. It was startling to see her in it after so long, but Byakuya actually liked it. It reminded him of his youthful days, when he would, on occasion, see the demon cat put on a dress and be a lady, albeit for a short amount of time.
It was around then that Byakuya noticed that they were all staring at him. Are they expecting a speech of some sort? For this, Byakuya was always ready, but this time, he handled it differently.
"If you are all expecting a speech, then be thankful, for I just happen to have one prepared for this very occasion."
At this, there were several loud groans. Pulling from out of his robes a scroll, he stood up, and unfurled the roll. It hit the table and rolled across it. For several metres. Another loud groan.
"Let me see..."
The Kuchiki lord started looking down the paper. It started off slowly, but the assorted shinigami found themselves watching him throw lengths of parchment skywards, in an apparent attempt to find the right words.
About three quarters of the way through, he suddenly stopped. "Ah, here we are. 'Thank you all for coming. Let the festivities begin.'"
On this cue, Kuchiki family servants brought in a startling amount of food and drink, all of the highest grade. There were many high-pitched screams as some of the female guests saw clam, oyster and snail on the plates, but the squeal of delight was nearly deafening when Iba had the largest roast boar he had ever seen slapped on his plate. He tried to cover it up with some manly grunts, but somehow Yachiru already had it on a voice recorder for everyone to relive (at a price) later.
"Oi, Byakuya. Ooph! What the hell! Rukia... oh, ok, ok. Excuse me, Kuchiki-sama, but how did you know that there was going to be a feast?" Ichigo, obviously on his best manners, was asking an obvious question that most people had ignored, and thought more upon stuffing their faces with the free feed provided.
"It was simple, essentially," Byakuya started, closing his eyes. "These are Kuchiki tables, and to rent them, you have to be part of the family - thank you, Rukia – and you must also state what you want them for. Seeing as how this is a birthday party, then it is required that the Kuchiki clan, as good, hospitable people, must provide any culinary requirements, including the use of their cooks."
"Wow, captain, you really know your tables..."
"Also, when a request is made, it is written down and given to the head of the house."
A light clicked on in Rukias' head. "Oh. So that means..."
"I organised the food."
In a moment of generic-anime-style comedy, Rukia, Ichigo and Renji fell out of their seats and onto the floor with an arm or leg still visible, and the perfectly clean floor suddenly found itself able to send up dust in their general area.
Seeing as how this thing happens around Byakuya a lot, no-one really took any notice of it.
Opening his eyes, to view the combatants, he was not surprised to see one, two, three felled party soldiers. However, one still stood (sat, really), and it was no other than the demon cat herself. Remembering that she is not a demon cat today, but a demon cat in a dress, he changed his behaviour accordingly.
"Shihouin, I would have thought that you would know about the proper way to do things. Couldn't you have used your own tables?"
Puzzled by the formality from her childhood friend (his childhood, her friend, and not the other way around), and the fact that he had said something that would have otherwise been a joke (had it not come from him), she did an impression of the noble that she supposedly was. She sat up straighter, closed her eyes, put on a snooty expression, and replied in haiku.
"Passes by does time,
A nobles memory goes blank,
Something about trees."
"I see your poetic form is improving," Byakuya says, in what might have possibly been a mocking tone. "But even you must remember some things of being a noble."
Less playfully, the former-Captain states "No, it's just that there is nothing much about being a lady that I care to remember." They both knew that 'fun and games' were not allowed for privileged children, and adults had to behave at all times. "Back then, all I can remember is being a captain and disobeying my 'superiors'. The 'noble' rank defines too much for me. I see it defines you."
Byakuya understood this to its' fullest. "Outward appearances are so much to someone of my status. I have to be careful what I say, what I do, who I talk to or do it with. I'm sure you know it is nigh forbidden to even look upon those from the Rukongai with no shinigami powers. I do not believe it is in the code of conduct anywhere to actually lose my temper."
"Really? Things must have changed from a hundred years ago." This reply came just as the three grounded shinigami rose back into their chairs.
Rukia, persistently curious about her brother, asks "Why's that, Yoruichi-sama?"
"Drop the formalities, Rukia, and I might tell you. You see, back when I knew him, it was very, very, very easy to ruffle his feathers," she chuckles remembering one of the times she visited the young lad. Haha, cleavage bounce. Classic. "I use to goad him into flash-step chases, by-
"Stealing my hair-ties." Byakuya interjected.
"-Uh, yeah, hair-ties, and he would chase me a few miles, get tired, call me a few names, then return home, sweaty, tired and brooding. Ah, those were the days."
"Good times."
The sarcasm in Byakuyas' last comment caught Yoruichis' ear. Having another look at the boy... no, the man that was Kuchiki Byakuya, once the spoilt brat who thought he was the Kings' gift to shinigami, she became aware that she was looking at a completely different person.
"What happened, Byakuya?"
Nearly confused by what he believed was a less than linear line of thought, Byakuya answered with a question; "I'm sorry, I don't understand. Are you talking about the days in which you attempted to torment me?"
"Yes, I am." She said, further confusing him.
"I see your memory is as bad as you alleged it was. You aided the escape of two law-breakers to the human world. The 'tormenting' was discontinued."
"And sometime in the past hundred years, you changed, Kuchiki. What happened to Little Byakuya, who would chase me for hours on end for a simple ribbon?"
Byakuya had to pause for a second to answer this queston, which was a noticeable gap. My Hisana died. He didn't say that, though, and offered up an excuse; "He became the head of a noble family, a captain, and a figurehead, all at once."
A quick realisation hit Yoruichi, like static shock being passed by an accidental touch. "That means that-
"No, Ginrei didn't die. He announced his retirement on the same night that my parents... left us. I'm sure he'd be glad to have a visit from you, though."
There was a moment of silence as everyone at the table digested this information. Yoruichi was first to finish, having a bit of a head start on everybody else, and Ichigo came in last, having no idea what-so-ever.
"So, I'm guessing your training as a noble and captain kicked up a gear at the same time?" This came from Yoruichi, and the response came from Byakuya.
"Yes, the day after. I completed the training within a week."
Another silence followed, but this one was broken by Ichigo, struggling to keep up.
"I don't get it. Why would they give a kid a captains responsibilities?" The room temperature dropped several degrees, and several cool drinks froze. "I didn't mean it like that, Hitsugaya-taicho! I mean, he had a lot on his plate, right? Why not give the division to someone else?"
"Because the sixth division is like a family heirloom," said Yoruichi, as the room warmed up significantly. "If Byakuya gave it up to just anyone, then it would be like letting some stranger into your grandparents' underwear draw."
"Not as accurate as an analogy as I would prefer," says Byakuya, "but I must agree to a point. For my family to lose the division would be as if Abarai lost his tattoos. Unthinkable."
Delighted by the fact that he had been used in one of his captains own analogies, Renji decided to join the conversation, unaware of what he was really implying; "What was it like when you ran away from your division, Yoruichi-sama?"
"I did not run away from anything!" There was a loud crash, and the attention of Byakuyas' partygoers turned to the Goddess of Flash, standing up, glaring daggers at the redhead, hellfire in her eyes, and down at the table, where she had slammed her hands in anger, there was a broken plate where her shunkou-reflex had kicked in. Thankfully enough, she realised that it hadn't broken the table. The grey lining to this silver cloud was that everyone in the room was looking at her in her slightly torn, armless, backless dress.
She sat down, and quietly said "My priorities... shifted. That's all."
Seeing as how only those at the circular table really knew what she was talking about, the rest went back to their meals, happy that she did not intend on starting a fight. (Except for a certain jingling captain)
Back at the table, Byakuya said, glancing gently over at Rukia, "Yoruichi-sama, this is something I can understand."
Before Rukia had the chance to blush, the doors were thrown wide open, and in walked various members of the Kuchiki clan. They were in a walking formation, which the nobles present knew meant that there was something big going on. This specific formation was usually meant for rituals, and the most important member would be the one right at the back, and, indeed, he was, for when he turned the corner, Byakuya knew who he was straight away. This was a man who didn't like him very much. His name was Kuchiki Shinekunji Hayanduri, and he was the most traditionally minded man in the whole of the spirit world. In the five years of marriage that Byakuya had enjoyed with his late wife, the man had tried to force a divorce on every day of the week. He had no grounds to do such a thing, and Byakuya listened to his whining like Ichigo listened in class.
Right now, he seemed to be on the war-path, as he had brought nearly the entire clan to the barracks. The observational eye would observe that he was holding a large silk cloth and an ornate silver flask. Whatever was about to happen was not going to be a good thing, judging by the way he walked.
Byakuya said, "Oh, good. Now we have more company for my party. The more the merrier, I believe. I would offer you a seat, but there are now... 235 of us, and seating for-
"Silence! I will not have you interrupt the ritual with your gibber-gabber-ing." Ah, that's right, thinks Byakuya, he's an old person.
"What ritual?" asks Matsumoto, thinking the night, which looked to be full of drinking games and bottle-spinning with Seireiteis' most eligible bachelor, will be rather boring after all.
"This was the second purpose of the gathering tonight," says Yamamoto. "The following needs to be witnessed by all of us."
The lesser nobles circled the tables, and when they felt they were spaced appropriately, bowed in the direction of the focal point of the evening. Shinekunji walked up to the right of Byakuya, so that their faces remained visible. Both remained mostly emotionless, although the younger face was showing what might be called confusion, if his face were to be examined by a panel of experts.
"A noble is many things," says Shinekunji, finally. "He is a warrior most skilled and elegant in battle, he is a scholar well versed in the history and legislature of the Soul Society, and he is a progenitor to his family, passing the gene of lordship to his children, so they may continue his line. Kuchiki Byakuya; your 500th year of life should be marked by three things. One; the power of a true shinigami has been gifted to you. Can you prove this?"
Thinking only for a moment, the captain removed the haori from his back and passed it to his elder. "Here is your proof. I have taken my place as a captain of the Gotei 13. This is my jacket."
Satisfied with the evidence, Shinekunji continued; "Two; the intellect of a scholar has been shown and taught to you. What achievements in the pursuit of knowledge have you made?"
Confident again in his response, Byakuya replied, "I have read of the entire Kuchiki library. I have all three disciplines of kido under my control. I have participated in the creation of rules and laws that the Soul Society is run by."'
A small smirk played on the old man's' face as he asked the final question. "Three; the bloodline of your family in insured, as you have produced an heir. Is this true?"
Instinct forcing him to look over to his sister, no, half-sister, he realised that he had failed to protect his families noble blood. He had no son or daughter, as the time he had spent with his late wife had not formed any children. If he should die, then the Kuchiki nobility would effectively crumble.
He was frozen in the moment. The eyes of the room stared at him, as he found himself unable to answer the question. As a noble, he had been bred to not accept failure, and here he was, not succeeding in what would appear to be some sort of coming of age ceremony (he had not heard of this one before, and was not experienced in its' execution). Was he really such a terrible Head of Clan, to not have left an heir?
Time started to move again, and his lips found the answer that he found himself nearly too proud to say.
"No."
"Kuchiki Byakuya, you have failed to maintain the purity of the bloodline of the family." The old man held out his arm, and dropped the pure white cloth. "To this lack of foresight, the Kuchiki clan must take away your leadership of the noble house." There were audible gasps, and people had already began talking, but Byakuya stood without batting an eyelid. There was a slight widening of the eyes, but this indicator of shock went mostly unnoticed as Shinekunji began speaking again, as all present began listening even more intently.
"Also, as the captaincy of the 6th division belongs to the head of the Kuchiki, you are no long of captain rank. This has been discussed with the Soutaicho, and he has agreed to find alternate arrangements for the 6th." Several pairs of eyes turned to Yamamoto, but he was showing no surprise, or any other significant emotion, either.
"As the conclusion of this rite is upon us, you, having failed the test of nobility, are now officially stripped of your nobility, your power and your people. You may keep the name of Kuchiki, but let it be heard by all those closest to you that you are not tied to that name. You are not one of us."
"Finally," the wrinkled Kuchiki says, handing the silver flask to the non-Kuchiki, "you must drink from this bitter juice, which will drain all the nobility from your blood itself." There was another audible gasp at this, as the imagination of the assembled shinigami gave them all very gory images that most of them wished they had not thought of. "To take a drink form this symbolises your willingness to hand over the clans leadership. After just a sip of this, all you will have are the clothes on your back and the natural power that still runs through your veins."
Slowly reaching for the flask, seeing every detail of the symbolic sakura tree on the side of the pure silver container, he grabbed it, and, as he brought it to meet his lips, he wondered just what his life held for him past the liquid that he would soon ingest. Would it be a life of dishonour, contempt and scorn? Would it be full of misery? Or could he just start anew?
Fear gripped him as he let the first few drops slide onto his tongue. The liquid was bitter, and tasted vaguely of some kind of cleaning agent that the cleaners used on bathroom walls (or so he had imagined). As he cautiously swallowed what little there was in his mouth, he felt the room spin. Was this the drinks' effect? Or was it the effect of losing his identity, his status, and his rank?
He was brought out of his thoughts by the burning sensation that was making its way down to his stomach. For a few seconds, he felt that this was, indeed, the end of his life, that the liquid was made to kill him. But after a few seconds of just standing there, with the room in waiting for some reaction, he realised that he wasn't dead. In fact, he felt good. All thoughts of death, the final certainty, were wiped away by endless roads of possibility.
This is not the end of my life, he began to think, but maybe this is the start of a new one... Actually, this stuff isn't as bad as I had thought it would be. I feel much... lighter. The weight of the world is no longer on my shoulders... But, I am feeling too heavy to fly, still...
Outwardly, he smirked.
Mwa ha ha. Just wait until the next chapter... or maybe I will submit it now!
