Triggers
There was a reason he never really looked at her. Yes, when he spoke to her he would always make sure she understood he was talking to her and her alone, but he could never really gaze upon her for very long. Whenever they bumped into each other in the halls of Kuchiki manor, she would always apologize quickly and bow deeply, and walk away, her light little footsteps a testament to her rigorous years of training in the art of stealth. But in those few seconds spent close together, he would either stare straight ahead, not looking at her at all, or glance in her general direction.
There was a reason for that…
Was it Hisana tormenting him from the grave? Was that it? It had to be, for only she knew what Rukia looked like when she begged him to take care of her. He never imagined that he wouldn't be able to distinguish from the two women. But he knew Hisana well, knew her soft-spoken ways, her eagerness to please, and her devotion to himself. And although he saw Hisana in Rukia, he also saw the things that made Rukia distinctly herself. Her ferocity in the battlefield, the fact that she could be loud and speak her mind when he wasn't around.
And it hurt…
Because she wasn't Hisana.
He had to keep remind himself of that. When he saw her in the gardens admiring the snowdrops, strolling through the flowers, next to the koi pond, in her silk kimono. It was the picture of Hisana.
But when she spoke…
"Nii-sama. What are you doing here?" she said quietly, bowing discreetly, avoiding eye contact, as was proper. "I was taking my evening stroll, as is customary for me." She suddenly realized her mistake, blushed in embarrassment, and bowed her head even lower. It oddly reminded Byakuya of his first night with Hisana. "I-I'm sorry, nii-sama." she said quietly. He responded with an affirmative grunt, indicating he accepted her apology.
"You should be on your way now. It's late." He spoke while looking away, feigning disinterest. "Yes, nii-sama." she spoke softly. She began walking away, her footsteps the only sound in the small corridor. He could only stare at her small silk-clad back distancing itself from him.
"Rukia." She froze and turned around, eyes to the ground still. "H-hai, nii-sama?" she whispered. He could see she was expecting punishment of some sort. Without warning, he shunpo'd to her side. Her eyes widened impossibly but she didn't say a word, nor dare move a muscle. He gingerly lifted her chin. He noticed her eyes were still cast down, away from him.
"Rukia, look at me." She hesitated. The next instant, his breath nearly caught in his throat when those dark indigo eyes looked directly into his. Seconds turned into hours, turned into days, turned into eons of agony and breathlessness. "Goodnight, Rukia." With that he let her go and began to walk away. A shaky breath was released, followed by soft footsteps padding away into the night.
Rukia was not Hisana. And it hurt…