Renji paused before the door to his best friends' house, his raised fist hovering before knocking. He turned to regard his captain, brow furrowed slightly under his white bandana. "Are you sure you still wanna do this?"
Byakuya only frowned, ever so slightly, his eyes gazing through the wooden paneling of the door as if he could peer into the room within.
It had been exactly two weeks and three days since his sister's engagement party—and the most upsetting disagreement Byakuya had ever had with his fukutaichou. But it had been life-changing as well, for the both of them. They were now engaged, albeit secretly. Renji had learned not to expect so much from him, conversationally speaking, and he in turn had begun to try to express himself more honestly. They still argued. That part's perfectly normal, Jyuushiro had assured him, despite the fact that he and Kyouraku Shunsui had not so much as frowned at one another in the past 500 or so years.
"Okay, throw me a rope here, Taichou. Are we going in, are we not going in…?"
Of course there were some things about Renji that still irritated him, and there were some things about himself that he knew still irritated Renji. But now, these things rarely erupted into full-blown arguments.
Renji sighed, an admittedly long-suffering sound. "All right, that's it. Nervous or not, you've got five seconds to gimme an answer." The threat hovered menacingly in the air, but Byakuya did not so much as twitch, his mouth only thinning slightly. "Fine. Five… four… three… two… it's your funeral here, Taichou…"
No, he did not miss the arguments—the long silences, the tense dinners, the occasional bouts of rough sex that shouldn't have happened. Fortunately for them, Renji had managed to concoct, all on his own, a new way to deal with his tendency towards taciturnity—one that did not result in his having to sleep on the couch at the end of the day.
"… One."
"Renji!" Byakuya cried, as a pair of long-fingered, calloused hands suddenly dug themselves into his sides. "Stop that!" He tried to slap his fukutaichou's fingers aside, but it was difficult, as he was also trying vainly not to laugh.
Renji grinned, not letting up. "You look like someone shoved a rod up your ass and forced you to bend over."
He shot his lover a murderous look. But before he could gather the strength to retaliate, Renji abruptly switched tactics, wrapping his arms around him and hauling him close, their bodies flush against one another now.
"Renji!" he snapped again, furious and starting to breathe heavily. The chief reason, after all, for why his lover had chosen this manner of dealing with him was because he'd learned his captain's deepest, darkest secret.
Getting tickled tended to make him… well…
…horny.
Renji grinned, arms tightening around his waist. "What?" And before Byakuya could do anything to stop him, he pressed their mouths hungrily together—naturally, just as the front door suddenly flew open.
They separated like a pair of startled rabbits, Byakuya turning to see his sister gazing up at them, her hand still on the doorknob. She looked… amused.
"Nii-sama," she said, managing a respectful bow to her older brother. "Renji." She grinned at her friend, and Byakuya was pleased to note that his lover was blushing. Served him right.
"Rukia," he said, inclining his head graciously. From the corner of his eye, he caught Renji throwing him a dirty look. He resisted the urge to smirk.
Rukia smiled. "It's way past seven. They thought you weren't coming." She opened the door wider, gesturing for them to come in. He did not miss the impish little grin she shot him for being late, a look she wouldn't have normally dared to give him.
This time it was Renji's turn to look smug while his captain pretended not to blush with his usual cultured stoicism.
"Ichigo and the others are in the spare room." She said, her eyes still dancing in impish amusement as she waited for them to slip off their shoes and hang up their jackets. Byakuya pretended not to notice that either, though it was rather difficult, with Renji suddenly strutting around with that "I just fucked my captain up against the hotel wall" smirk on his face.
No, make that "I just fucked my fiancé up against the hotel wall."
The decision to keep their engagement secret for now had been mutual—that is, he had suggested it, and Renji had agreed. This may have been because Renji had a tendency to agree to just about anything after sex, but an agreement was an agreement. Nevertheless, Byakuya had begun to suspect betrayal when he noticed how often his sister had started to smile at him. She visited him in Seireitei frequently now, and kept him informed of all her plans for her own rapidly approaching nuptials.
It reached a point to where eventually Byakuya couldn't take it anymore. Perhaps the continual reminder that his sister was to be bound for all eternity to that idiot future husband of hers had finally gotten to him. Whatever the case, one night during dinner, he'd turned to Renji and asked him, sternly and coolly, if he had broken their agreement by telling Rukia the truth about them.
"Nope," came the easy reply, in between mouthfuls of rice and fish.
Then why, he'd continued, had she been acting so strangely?
"I told her you were pregnant."
Byakuya couldn't remember ever having been so incensed. He had also come dangerously close to peeing his hakama by the time Renji finished tickling him.
"Ohhhh!!!!"
The outraged cry resounded from the room at the end of the hallway just as they passed into the living room. It was immediately followed by jubilant crows and a string of curses. In addition to Ichigo, Byakuya could detect the voices of Hisagi Shuuhei and Madarame Ikkaku. He almost wrinkled his nose—he could practically smell the testosterone-laced vibes wafting down the hallway.
Rukia paused to offer them something to eat or drink, causing Renji to look at her as if she'd grown horns between her ears.
"No, thank you," Byakuya replied. She nodded and flashed them one last knowing little grin before disappearing into the kitchen, where he could hear her apparently resume a conversation with someone… Ichigo's sister Yuzu, he thought.
Renji grumbled under his breath. "Never asks me if I want somethin' to drink…"
Byakuya ignored him. Instead, he turned to look down the hallway again, his brow slightly furrowed.
He started slightly, feeling a hand come to rest lightly on the small of his back.
"It's okay, Taichou. It'll be fun. I promise." The hand started rubbing his back, making little circular motions. "Okay?"
Byakuya frowned and looked ahead again. He gazed silently down the hallway for a moment longer, then started walking. A few feet more and he was standing in the doorway of the room, gazing down at the three younger shinigami, all of them staring straight ahead, eyes riveted to the rapidly moving images on the television screen.
Hisagi was the first to look up.
He gaped.
"K-Kuchiki-taichou!"
Ikkaku and Ichigo also looked up, both of them immediately dropping the contraptions in their hands and gazing with similarly slack-jawed shock.
He felt Renji's hovering presence over his shoulder. "Hey, guys." He knew without looking back that his fukutaichou was grinning from ear to ear.
Ichigo was the first to recover.
He scowled at Renji, getting to his feet. "What the fuck, man? You know the rules. No girlfriends allowed!"
There was a sudden sharp spike in reiatsu, as all eyes quickly turned to the abruptly furious face of the sixth division captain.
Hisagi's eyes widened. "Holy fuck."
Ikkaku stood up and shoved their orange-headed friend. "Apologize, moron!"
Ichigo looked confused. "For what?" He scratched his head, then blinked, seeming to belatedly realize that he'd just inadvertently called Kuchiki Byakuya a girl—to his face. "Oh, hey. Sorry, Byakuya." He looked at Renji, his scowl returning. "Fucking rule-breaker. See if you get invited back."
Renji scowled right back. "Oh, gee, man, sorry. Sooo sorry I don't keep Kuchiki-taichou in the kitchen, all barefoot and pregnant and shit, the way you intend to keep Rukia."
Byakuya just blinked, reiatsu gradually fading.
"He's right," Hisagi chimed in, looking slightly apologetic. "What's that word Yumi uses?"
Ikkaku snickered. "Chauvinist." He grinned at his friend. "Better than being pussy-whipped."
"Better than being single," Hisagi quipped back.
"Enough," said Byakuya.
Everyone was immediately quiet.
"Renji," he said, turning to fix his subordinate with a look that made the younger shinigami immediately straighten. So did the other two. Ichigo remained standing there, looking slightly pissed, one hand scratching through orange-colored hair.
Byakuya turned to face the television.
Renji hurried forward.
"Here, Taichou! You can sit right here, up front."
"Yeah," Ikkaku agreed, "It can be hard to follow at first. You'll want to sit up front."
"Here's a cushion, Kuchiki-taichou," Hisagi said, handing the white embroidered pillow to Renji, who hastily knelt beside his captain and fixed it so he could kneel down on it.
Ichigo muttered something inaudible under his breath.
"This is a controller," Renji continued, handing him the bulky contraption with the multi-colored buttons. "See, you put your thumbs here and hold it like this. This one goes forward and this one looks around. Oh, and this one shoots. Got it, Taichou?"
Byakuya frowned at the controller, ever so briefly. Then he lifted his head again, shifting slightly on the embroidered cushion, back straight, hair resting smoothly down his back without the familiar aid of the kenseiken, eyes narrowing a little as he regarded the screen.
He was ready.
He saw Renji step back from the corner of his eye, glancing in the opposite direction and scratching his nose as if slightly embarrassed.
Hisagi coughed politely.
Ikkaku was not so polite. He actually snickered.
Renji scowled and turned to fix his three friends with a vicious look before plopping heavily down next to Byakuya, grabbing a controller for himself. "Okay, I'll be on your team, Taichou."
"No way," Ichigo protested. "We can't do teams. We've got too many people now. I'll have to hook up the other system."
"Then hook up the other fucking system!" Renji barked, glaring at him over his shoulder. Byakuya was frowning down at the controller again, trying to remember which one was "shoot."
"Fucking rule-breaker," Ichigo muttered as he bent to do just that. After a moment, Ikkaku and Hisagi went and joined him in front of the other television, a slightly smaller set.
"Okay," Renji said, once the screen had re-loaded. "Now you gotta make a profile, Taichou. So like just pick some cool colors or whatever and make up a name."
Byakuya frowned. "I already have a name, Renji."
"Uh, yeah. I know, but it's like a nickname.
"An avatar," Hisagi suggested helpfully.
Byakuya narrowed his eyes at the screen as he carefully typed out "Kuchiki Byakuya," fumbling about with the controls at first but getting the knack quickly enough. Then he slowly tapped over to hit "Enter."
There was a briefly uncomfortable silence.
"Uh," said Renji. "Okay. So, um, you just scroll down until you find your name. Yeah. Hit "A." … No, that's… yeah. Okay, now you're in. So you'll be at the top of the screen."
Byakuya blinked as the screen suddenly divided itself in two.
"You guys in yet?" asked Ichigo, sounding bored.
"Gimme a sec," Renji said, scrolling rapidly through the list of usernames until he came to the one he was looking for.
Byakuya narrowed his eyes at the screen again. "… Destructinator," he said carefully, reading the name under the little figure that popped up on the bottom half of the screen.
He turned to look at his fukutaichou, arching a brow. "I do not believe that's a word."
"You hear that, Renji?" Ikkaku piped up, leering over his shoulder. "Kuchiki-taichou says it's not a word."
"Fuck off!" came the angry retort.
Ikkaku snickered again.
"Okay, guys," Hisagi said, suddenly sounding all business, "quit messing around and let's play." He hit a button on his own controller, and suddenly the screen started beeping, a countdown starting in the right hand corner.
"All right, Taichou," Renji said as the screen changed, revealing a calming, wintry scene overlooking a gray wall. The bottom half of the screen displayed a similar scene, though at a different angle. "Just stick by me and you'll do okay."
This was easier said than done. Byakuya's eyes widened slightly as he attempted to manipulate the scene before him, wiggling the toggle buttons with his thumbs and even at times turning his body as if he could make it work that way. As a result, rather than keep up with Renji, he ended up turning in circles, desperately trying to figure out how to face forward and move ahead at the same time.
All of a sudden, there was a loud bang, a spray of pixilated blood, and his screen went blank.
"Hey!" Renji cried, glaring over his shoulder. "You didn't have to fucking shoot him!! He was just standing there!"
Ichigo shrugged. "All's fair in war."
"You forgot the love part," Hisagi pointed out.
Ichigo shrugged. "Nope. I only know pain and death. All will fall before my blazing energy sword. DIE, MOTHERFUCKER!!!"
A series of flashing lights, fake dust, and spraying bullets, and suddenly Renji's screen went dark, too.
Renji swore, muttering something under his breath about Ichigo and a portion of the female anatomy. Byakuya would have given his fukutaichou a disapproving look, but he was too busy gripping his controller with white-knuckled hands, trying to figure out how to move again.
Seconds later, it happened again: loud bang, spray of blood, blank screen.
Then again.
And again.
Byakuya lost count of how often he died. It was utterly infuriating—no, simply insufferable. He was being defeated by a third seat, a vice-captain, and a disgusting excuse for a so-called substitute shinigami. His own vice-captain, for all his chivalrous talk of "sticking together," had a tendency to race ahead, spraying bullets pell-mell and screaming his head off until he was mercifully silenced by the opposing team. In short, his tactics greatly resembled those he displayed on the non-virtual battlefield. Meanwhile, his teammate had been brutally slaughtered 28 times. Byakuya was keeping count.
Eventually, without warning, he simply put down the controller and rose smoothly to his feet.
"Bathroom's down the hallway to the left," Ichigo said without looking up, his fingers punching madly at the buttons on his own controller.
"Renji," Byakuya said, "Let's go."
"What?!" Renji glanced up, his expression a mixture of shock and indignation, before hurriedly refocusing on the screen. "But, Taichou, I'm on a roll here; I'm about to get a killtacular—OH YEAH!! That's right, asshole! Who's your bitch NOW, Motherfucker?!"
"Shit!" Ikkaku cried, throwing down his own controller in disgust.
Byakuya stared down at them all for a moment more, then turned and calmly walked out of the room.
Hisagi glanced up, then reached over to quickly shove an oblivious Renji.
Renji glared at him. "What??" Then he looked over his shoulder and saw that Byakuya had left. "Oh—shit."
Byakuya was busy putting on his jacket and slipping his shoes back on when Renji hurried up to him. His lover knew better than to ask questions; he simply called out to Rukia to tell her they were leaving before grabbing his own things. Naturally, Rukia came hurrying over, followed by Yuzu, both women looking puzzled.
Byakuya noticed the question on the tip of his sister's tongue and turned to give Renji a meaningful look before stepping outside, leaving his fukutaichou to explain. A short while later, Renji joined him, and they both began walking back up the street together.
Renji was silent for awhile, then finally asked: "That bad, huh?"
Byakuya made no response. He simply kept walking, the bitter, unfamiliar tang of humiliating defeat burning just beneath the surface of his skin. This was a failure which was not ever to be repeated.
Something would have to be done.