Story: Byakuya and Ukitake, in a confrontation of repressed feelings and words...who shall win? [Byakuya x Ukitake]
Rating: K+ for a bit of blood. May warn against any kind of fluff, as well.
Disclaimer: Of course I do not own Byakuya and Ukitake...Ahh...sigh.
Note: I wanted to write about a little moment with Byakuya and Ukitake...which I really like as characters, and as a pairing. So, I hope this does justice to them, enjoy! x3 I wrote this while listening to Byakuya's song, "Yozora No Kawa" and "Shiawase Na Hibi" from the D. Gray-Man soundtrack. Byakuya's song is incredible...
"Bya-kun ! Byaaaaa-kuuuuun ~ Ah, you could hear me!"
Why…
"Ukitake-sempai…"
Are you…
"Hmm?"
Always so happy…
"You sound like a child…"
To see me?
"You shouldn't call me sempai if you consider me a child, should you?" said Ukitake with a smile; looking slightly mischievous. "You don't have to call me that you know…"
"It…you don't have to call me like that, but you still do…"
"You just prefer Kuchiki-taicho then?"
"Whatever you like…"
"Hehehe…then I'll stick with Bya-kun ~"
"…Mhf…"
Don't make this harder…for me.
This feeling I can no longer control…
"Like a child eh…? Heheh…am I really…"
The Captain of the 13th Division's eyes glittered calmly, appreciatively, their brown warmth coursing in Byakuya. A smile coursing across his pale face...almost pearly white, always so soft…the 6th Division Captain's hand curled, almost in defence, as if to prevent a movement he could not control. A yearning of the heart that the spirit could not surpass. Yes…that skin had to be really soft…should it not? And what about its warmth…that would suit Ukitake Jushiro so well. It would match the warmth of his eyes, his smile…and of his own heart.
But he could not let that warmth reach him…
"Absolutely," Byakuya retorted, too quickly, not calmly enough…as if he was actually caring, did not want to be teased. Why? Why did he not just ignore Ukitake's smile, not taking his words at heart at all? "…Sempai."
Ahh…and why had he said that again? So…so…He shook his head very slightly, trying to chase the words again. He did not want to describe the way he was acting…right now…trying to keep control.
"You do not need to pay any respects to me," smiled Ukitake. Then adding with a mingling of mischief and laughter in his voice, "…Bya-kun." He observed Byakuya for a moment, then his smile seemed to widen. Why? He had tried to keep his expression completely immobile and cold…had his grey eyes softened, only for a moment? Had his lips curved into the semblance of a smile? Jushiro seemed to look beyond these subtleties. He seemed to look straight into the soul.
It seemed like that man…always saw right through him, and Byakuya could not move…it seemed in that delicious, warm brown gaze, that Jushiro knew what he was trying to do…
Trying to push him away…because he could not control it anymore. This feeling…irrepressible…
Ukitake laughed softly, and moved silently forwards in the long corridor, taking up a fold of his scarf in his pure, white hand. Beautiful hands, hands for an ink brush tracing beautiful calligraphy on a pure white rice paper, for luxuriant green plants in a beautiful garden, for a warm pot of tea held delicately on an evening looking out upon the nature asleep…His expression had dangerously tilted when he had felt the hand graze the sleeve of his haori and finally rest upon the extremity of his scarf. Now, it felt serene when he thought of all the things those noble white hands were meant to do…He saw Ukitake, back that day on the bridge. Those hands on the hilt of his sword, restraining him serenely. That day, he had frozen immediately. Ukitake had laughed, and smiled at him…just as he did now, turning back towards him.
"You are right. Probably because I can never control…" His eyes roved over Byakuya's face, and he could feel his cold face burn suddenly. Ancestors of purer blood and nobler mind that I, please don't let him notice…thought Byakuya as calmly as he could muster. He averted his clear blue gaze against his will…still uncertain of whether this would be a safe mood or not.
"…my happiness ~" murmured Jushiro in a soft, calm tone…it ran like honey through Byakuya's mind. Dark, sweet honey that seemed to ensnare his senses.
"Ukitake-sempai…you are always too straightforward."
It was meant to sound cold…Then, why, oh why did his voice tremble at that moment…? He backed away, and miraculously, Ukitake mirrored his movement.
"Mmh…perhaps that as well..."
He slowly brought the silken material upwards. His face was slightly bent as if in reverence and for one strange, beautiful moment, Byakuya thought that his pale, delicate lips would brush against the beautiful scarf with a quick, flowing kiss…Byakuya started slightly when the end of the scarf suddenly fell limply, as that beautifully pale hand let go in one rushing movement. He felt as if he was falling, too. Just at that moment, Jushiro lifted his head. The breeze was blowing softly through the pure white strands of hair, carrying a flurry of delicate pale blossoms. Their gazes met. The blossom swirled and spiralled…then fell silently to the ground.
"I'm sorry."
Ukitake spoke the words with a smile, an apologetic laugh, shaking his head slightly. Byakuya still looked at him, transfixed. Inside, he felt reassured. Why had he ever worried? This was just Ukitake. He was always so agreeable and joking with everyone. He would have hardly noticed anything. He would not…care. Byakuya averted his gaze. He wouldn't be hurt. He was just playing! Byakuya felt his hands tremble slightly, and forbade himself to look at Ukitake.
Why did he want to push that man away…did he think that he ever cared?
"Not at all." He answered calmly, but his voice was trembling.
Just like a child's voice.
"I could not care less for the way you act around me or another."
Byakuya felt the sting of his own words. He knew that they were lying. He had not looked back at Ukitake. He was probably still smiling…That smile was also a lie. Because it was not a smile for him…it was a smile for anyone. For that man that was always warm and enthusiastic around anybody…
"You're not just…another."
Byakuya lifted his head, hoping to see the warm brown gaze reattached to that voice. But it had its back turned away from him. And Byakuya could only see the white haori blowing slightly, and the white hair billowing out in the breeze. Byakuya stayed immobile. It was as if all the breath…as if all the warmth had been pushed out of him. He wanted Ukitake to leave…away from him…and yet…he did not. That warmth…that presence…was all he wished for…and yet, what he did not deserve.
Trying to control himself…to stay away from that light…
Ukitake's voice was calm and careless…more that a few moments ago. Was it that easy? Was he just going to step away?
Byakuya closed his eyes. Away from that whiteness, away from that feeling of warmth.
It was better that way.
He could hear the sound of his steps, each one going further and further away from him. Had he been too sharp?
Surely it was better that way…
The steps stopped. Don't stop, don't stop. Don't leave me time to catch you up. Don't leave me…
A flutter of material. He opened his eyes.
Don't leave me any choice!
"Uki…take…?"
All the breath was taken out of him…yet he did not need any of that breath to be at his side in a moment, sliding down on the ground of the path strewn with blossom. That sweet, delicate blossom and the pure white haori of the 13th Division were stained red. Byakuya fumbled wordlessly around the white figure, silent save the relentless coughing. Helplessness swarmed into his movements, beforehand graceful and now uncertain…and guilt stabbed him in his own lungs...
This was his fault.
"Just…turn away. You don't need…me…I don't need…" Ukitake-sempai's voice, amidst the coughs…amidst the pain and humiliation…keeping his calm voice. That voice full of warmth and light…But the words would not match up together, their meaning would get tangled. Byakuya held up a hand; Jushiro tried to push it away. His breath was still irregular; he was still on the ground, head bent so that the long white hair hid his face in a silken cascade. It was not the pain; it was defeat.
Byakuya knew now…that man had probably suffered just as much as him.
He reached out his hand. The breeze passed on his skin, on his face and he felt revived. The night had descended, silently so as not to disturb them. Twilight cast soft and dark shadows on the two figures, kneeling on the polished wooden surface of the balcony.
"You're wrong…" Byakuya murmured calmly in the darkness. "I was wrong…"
He took the pale hand into his, taking a sudden intake of breath; Jushiro lifted his face towards him, in quiet surprise.
"Your hands…are warm…" muttered Byakuya, keeping his gaze downwards; his face contorted into a slight frown, as his cheeks seemed to take the same delicate tint as a cherry blossom. A faint smile crept back upon Ukitake's face, as he answered in hardly a whisper, stroking Byakuya's scarf gently.
"It's only the fever…"
"Does that mean you're cold…?"
"No…" Ukitake smiled, as Byakuya unravelled his scarf, stopping his movement with a hand on his shoulder; stopping his next words with a gentle kiss.
"Not any more…"
Byakuya could only let a sigh escape in the nightime sky.
Me neither.