He closed his eyes in exasperation as he turned away from his lieutenant, attempting to calm himself down. Deep breaths, Bya-kun. That's in, and then out. And in, and then out. Simple, ne?
He emitted a low growl, fists clenching as he banished Senbonzakura's thoughts from his head. He heard a slight whimper from the room which he assumed was Abarai. The man better be afraid. He better be. His jaw clenched as he tried to calm himself down. It was not working.
By any right, and had this been any other taicho, Renji would have made it out of the compound without anything having happened to him. Yes. It was simple enough to set the trap up, simple enough to rig everything up, and even simpler to leave unscathed. Unfortunately for him, his taicho happened to be Kuchiki taicho. The singularly most anally attentive taicho to details that the Gotei had seen in ages.
He had missed the soup, he had missed the tripwire, but strangely enough, it had been the classic bucket of water that had done it. As a last joke, Renji had balanced a bucket on the rafters, with a string attached to the sliding shoji door. And surprisingly, that had been the one which had gotten him.
Kuchiki taicho now stood in his office, dripping wet. There was silence all around, even the birds dared not chirp outside the window. The world held its breath for Renji, and somewhere over in the Eighth Division, Kyouraku Shunsui sneezed. But back to Sixth.
He stood there, a very sodden back facing Renji. Said fukutaicho knew that he could probably attempt to run, but that it would not work. Kuchiki taicho was much faster than he was. He had no choice, but to stand there stock still and wait for whatever punishment was coming.
Byakuya's fists clenched, and a drop of water dripped down onto the floor, an all too audible ping. That was the last straw. He whirled around, eyes flashing dangerously, right hand placed on Senbonzakura dangerously. Renji's eyes widened in horror.
"Ku-Ku-Kuchiki taicho! I-I-I…"
"Urusai! Abarai…" His voice was low and dangerous, the tone freezing cold. Renji felt like a deer in the headlights. He was trapped. He was caught. He was dead. He was about to die via pink flowers. He keeled backwards and fainted. A frustrated growl tore itself from Byakuya's throat.
After all the trouble, after all the frustration from the past few years, from the past few months, from the past few days, Aizen and everything, especially after having Fifth Division's paperwork foisted on him, he had been that close to breaking point. The arrival of spring, and the first blossoms on the trees were testing his patience, and wearing at his emotions. His breaking point had been that close. And he had just reached it.
He resisted the urge to smash an inkwell in Abarai's face, mentally running through the different ways he could use paperwork to torture the unconscious man. Eyes narrowing dangerously, he swept out of the room in a whirl of scarf and robe, leaving the few spectators outside to rush inside hurriedly. They knew what to do, having served under him for so long.
Wrenching the kenseikan out of his hair, he crushed it in his palm, flinging ceramic fragments into the wall, aided with a blast of kido. He glared at the light green fragments, cursing them. He scowled at the scarf, ripping it off his neck, tossing it into a corner angrily but leaving it alone. It was only kept intact because it was going to be difficult to explain why he had just lost something the price of ten mansions.
Sweeping into the training grounds, the division members scattered as they saw their taicho come in. Peeping over the fence, they stared in awe as one by one, the targets were completely and utterly decimated. The third seat could not help but notice that the red targets were disappearing first, under particularly ferocious 'Byakurai's.
It did not take long at all for the targets to be destroyed, and it took even less time for word to spread. Kuchiki taicho, for those who actually looked, seemed to be drenched from head to toe. Not to mention, his hair was strangely kenseikan free, and that scarf forever wrapped around his neck was gone. The third seat noticed an increase in the number of female shinigami turning up.
And he was sure that Kuchiki taicho knew it to, as the man suddenly turned, eyes narrowing dangerously, before disappearing in a rapid shunpo, in a mass of robes, a dripping mass of robes.
Ukitake Jyuushiro had been enjoying a particularly calm and peaceful day. His bonsais were all perfectly healthy and happy, and for once, Sentarou and Kiyone were elsewhere, bothering someone else. Shunsui was being kept in his office by an irate Ise-fukutaicho for not doing his paperwork. His lungs had decided to cooperate, and the limited training he had attempted earlier on in the day was not coming back to bite him in the butt with red and bloody teeth. In short, no one was bothering him, and yes, he was a very happy man.
But fate's a bitch. And we are about to find out why.
Disappearing in a rapid shunpo, the taicho of the Sixth found himself racing through the different courtyards in the Gotei, making a few trips around Eleventh to cast a sneaky Byakurai here and there and flinging a particularly foul-looking Eleventh member into a wall. Serve them right, the bastards, for having created so much trouble over the past few months.
Yes, Kuchiki Byakuya was very pissed off. His logical rational brain seemed to have deserted him as he raced through the Gotei Thirteen, leaving trails of destruction in his wake. Thing was, he was smart enough not be around when the other captains could see him. And since none of the other lower level shinigami was capable of following his much superior speed, this merely looked like a series of very serious pranks.
He knew Unohana taicho would not be pleased, but frankly, he could not care less. Apathy, eh, Bya-kun? Senbonzakura was placed in his personal quarters before he continued on his rampage, fingers itching with the need to blast something, anything, into oblivion.
If he had been thinking rationally, he would have simply shunpoed out of Seireitei, turned around and started firing kido into the lethality stone walls. It would have been simple to fling incantation after incantation at the wall, without causing any permanent damage. Problem was, he was neither thinking rationally nor logically, and he did want to cause permanent damage.
Thankfully, he was still barely sane enough to avoid his own division. After all, blowing up his own division would only create more paperwork for him, and urgh! Paperwork. His gloved hands curled into fists at the thought of a month's work of ruined paperwork thanks to a particular Abarai Renji.
To tell the truth, he had not been particularly, well, particular about his appearance. Thing was, he happened to be holding a month's work of completed paperwork in his hand as he had entered the door, and as we all know, ink is water-soluble. It runs. And so, a month's worth of hard work, of pulling double time, of staying back on weekends and of covering for both Fifth and Abarai had been ruined. He did not care if there had been some other reason, like some crappy thing about loosening up. As far as he was concerned, no one ruined his work and got away with it.
Growling in anger, he slowed himself down when he found himself in a particularly nice looking garden. Taking in deep breaths, he calmed himself down, taking a slow leisurely walk within the compound which he was absolutely sure was not his. No matter. He would apologize to the owner of the gardens for intruding on their property later.
His footsteps slowed, still silent as he took in his surroundings. How lucky for him. Spring was just around the corner, and the first plum blossoms were about to bloom. He came to a halt in front of a barren tree, finding himself face to face with a small pink blossom, the only one on the branches.
He snapped, and completely lost control. Shaking, he knelt to the ground, previously immaculate haori now stained with the light brown of the soil. Hands clenched into fists, his body wracked with sobs as he tried to keep silent, suppressing his reiatsu as best as he could. Silently thanking the gods for his extreme self-control, he just knelt there shaking, tears falling to the ground.
And he was still there when Ukitake found him in the garden.