It was strange, that this place was so cold.

Even when the fires were roaring in their grates, or when blankets were piled with their pillows, shivers still took the place of a warm comfort. Of course, these things wouldn't help anyway; it was on the inside that everything was so cold. A deep winter, so frigid and frozen, and it hadn't let up for nearly fifty years.

It was sad, really. This man had everything- a large manor with possibly larger grounds around it; Nobility, though not only that, he was the head of one of the four great noble families; title of Captain in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads; servants, money, even a breathtaking countenance was his (according to the collective female population, anyway).

Still, Byakuya Kuchiki felt cold, despite all of these comforts he was handed since he was born.

-+-

Servants bowed low, almost touching their foreheads to the ground when he passed them. Byakuya, however, paid them no attention; his mind was elsewhere, away from his manor and his servants, away even from the elders of his clan. When he was gone, the attendants got up and looked at each other with knowing glances and matching frowns, whether from worry or disapproval, it was unclear.

These servants knew where their lord was going. He was going to see her again…or rather, her memory; for she was long dead and gone now.

It was common knowledge in the Kuchiki house that this was one of Byakuya's rituals that he did not miss. It was sporadic sometimes, but there was normally some rhyme or reason to his actions. Whatever the cause, when the head of this house went to her shrine, he would be there anywhere from ten minutes to almost a whole day- it was madness in most eyes.

Regardless, Byakuya made his way through his mansion and to her shrine, sliding the doors closed behind him. After lighting and placing several sticks of incense, he kneeled and bowed his head before the last remaining piece of his beloved he had left- a photo. It was a picture of nostalgia for Byakuya, though he wished he had a better momentum of her. It was a beautiful picture of the late mistress (then again, everything about her was beautiful to him), but it was almost a contradiction of her personality. The almost sad smile that graced her features was…unusual, he supposed. How he wished she would tease him with that usual conceited smirk she would wear, or perhaps greet him with the actual genuine smile she reserved only for those she was incredibly close to.

Coming to her shrine was bittersweet at most. He felt he must seek her guidance, her permission, an answer to a seemingly impossible question or situation… But what he did most was beg her forgiveness, over and over and over again. He was sorry for not being there enough for her, sorry for not caring enough, sorry for not paying enough attention to her, sorry for appearing so cold to her, sorry he wasn't strong or smart enough to save her…the list goes on.

Byakuya was depressed, but also angry at her death. He was so furious sometimes his spiritual pressure made those at his manor cower in fear. There was no reason for it- it was a disease. There was no physical being that the blame could rest on. Nothing Byakuya could take revenge on, nothing he could have done but sit silently and watch his wife erode until she was gone. There was no cure, after all.

His brow furrowed at this thought.

"No cure…what was it called again?" Byakuya muttered to himself.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head, and looked but didn't see her picture smiling down on him. He couldn't even remember the name of the disease. But Unohana herself had said that there was nothing she could do. And if a captain-level doctor said there was nothing to be done, then that was it…

Right?

Maybe not.

Scarf swaying, Byakuya stood abruptly, bowed quietly and muttered a farewell before putting out the incense and leaving his wife's shrine.

A brisk pace was a bit of an understatement to describe Byakuya's gait- he was trying not to run to the vast library where his wife's medical records were kept. A strange feeling was welling up inside of him, and then what could only be rational thought appeared in his head.

What should he do? Go gallivanting off trying to see if anything could have been done to save his wife? Try to prove that someone could be guilty for causing her death? No, this was stupid. It had been over fifty years…why would there be any difference now?

But maybe there was something…the subject had been too sore for him to properly look in to before. It hadn't even entered his head that there might have been foul play involved. Something might be irregular, something might have been just so that went unnoticed before, but he could see now…

Byakuya stopped, putting a hand to the bridge of his nose, eyes closed tight. He stood there like that for a few moments, trying to sort his thoughts and figure out what to do.

Finally, he stood straight, and sighed, eyes still closed but a bit more loosely. They opened, and the gray irises pleaded up to the clouds.

"Hisana…what would you have me do?"

-+-

A/N: Hey there, what's up? I thought I'd try my hand at a ByakuHisa fic. I love this fandom, it's so cute. This one's short cause it's the prelude, but chapters will be longer and have more dialogue…so no worries there. And just so you know, reviews rock my world.

Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I probably ever own Bleach or any of its characters. (I just manipulate them for my own enjoyment. :D)

xoxo/Revalations