Itonami: This may just end up being a one-shot, but I'd like to take a stab another Byakuya/Hisana romance while I'm stuck with writing A Story's Past. Tell me if I should continue or not!
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Bleach.
Sueño de La Realidad
"I will go."
As Silence reigned in the Kuchiki dining hall, a small clattering of spoons and chopsticks occupied the vacancy. Kuchiki Byakuya sat with composure and calm and he continued to eat his food. His piercing ebony eyes were relaxed as they looked up from the bowl of rice to survey the faces of his family members.
"Kuchiki-sama, will that be wise? Why can you not send one of your underlings from your division?"
Byakuya set down his eating utensils before he sighed. "It will be my duty to fulfill the role of the consenter of Rukia's marriage. I will watch over her in the human world. I will not be long. I have already obtained permission for the trip from Yamamoto-taichou."
The clan bowed their heads in acknowledgement of his decision. After all, the head of the clan was some with whom you did not argue.
The lunch ended in terse silence before Byakuya got up to leave. He swept majestically out of the dining hall, his captain's uniform billowing past him as he wandered into his favorite orchard filled with sakura trees.
The beauty that was Kuchiki Byakuya possessed a younger sister by marriage, and her name was Kuchiki Rukia. It was many years ago that an incident passed over Soul Society where a ryoka called Kurosaki Ichigo defeated the troublesome Aizen Sousuke, a mad man of unbelievable power, who was about to destroy the balance between Soul Society and the human world. Rukia and Ichigo, strange lovers at first sight, were now getting married, and Rukia was to stay in the human world with Ichigo. The proposal of marriage had happened just two days ago, and it had reached Byakuya's knowledge the day before. Now, as the head of the Kuchiki clan, he had to inspect Ichigo's household and of any dangers that may arise in the human realm. Of course, it was also his job to whether or not to consent to their marriage. He would make that decision later.
The preparation for his departure was quickly made so that Byakuya could spend time with his sister and the groom-to-be. He would have to blend in; his human clothes were already packed and ready for him in a suitcase. Already, they found a spacious apartment for his stay and the money he would need for all of his necessities.
The gates into the human world were opened for him and he stepped through the shining light to find himself in a public restroom of an elaborate building. He was dressed impeccably in a handsome suit and he straightened out his collar before stepping out of the restroom. The current floor of the building was a fancy restaurant, the very place that he arranged his meeting with the newly engaged couple. His hair was free of his white kenseikan and his bangs simply hung with grace over his eye and side of his face. He turned several heads of female passerby, and possibly even male passerby, as he walked past them into the restaurant.
His stormy gray eyes passed over the many tables until they rested on the unmistakable orange hair belonging to Kurosaki Ichigo. He'd have to do something about that hair. Calmly, he approached the table and Rukia spotted him first, her face breaking into a respectful smile.
"Nii-sama, I'm glad you could make it."
Ichigo grinned almost teasingly as he stood up to greet him. He held out his hand. "Oi, long time so see, Byakuya."
The ryoka's straightforward manner did not surprise him or insult him anymore. In fact, he would have been disappointed if Ichigo had been polite and addressed him more respectfully, since that would mean that Ichigo was just a wimp when it came to trying to please the elder brother of his future wife.
"It has been awhile." Byakuya answered in his deep tenor voice. They sat and a waiter quickly took their orders before leaving them to their privacy.
Rukia glanced at her older brother with admiration. "You look so different without your shinigami uniform, Nii-sama."
"Is that a bad thing?" He asked calmly as his lip twitched in amusement. Rukia shook her head while blushing. She stared down at her petite hands that were in her lap. It was then that he noticed how different she looked in human clothes. She wore a scarlet dress with thin straps, her face moderately done with make-up, and a peculiar necklace graced her neck. She looked pretty. "You look nice, Rukia." Only his deep voice made it less awkward.
"Thank you, Nii-sama." She blushed even further at his compliment.
Ichigo sighed at her reluctance to bring up the topic to which he needed answers. "So, Byakuya, what's the verdict on the engagement?"
The shinigami captain looked at him with an unreadable expression. "I will decide in a month. I will need to know the family, whether or not they are suitable for Rukia."
Rukia looked up hastily. "Nii-sama, his family is very nice. There's nothing to worry about."
"I will decide in a month." He said again, His tone containing such finality that they both shut their mouths before they decided to argue.
"W-Where will you stay?"
"I have an apartment in the city. I will come to visit the family tomorrow afternoon." Byakuya said. Their orders arrived and they ate while conversing pleasantly about what they had been doing for the past two days since the engagement.
After the dinner, it was dark outside. The streets were lit with lamp posts, and cars were zooming past them as they walked out of the building. Ichigo and Rukia bid their goodbyes with him, and hailed a taxi together, Rukia laughing at something amusing that her fiancé had said to her. They looked happy. And Byakuya was already convinced that the marriage should happen.
His apartment building was located a block away from the restaurant, and he started out on foot, his hands casually in his pockets and the wind playing with his raven hair. The Kuchiki patriarch strolled on the street, bright lights displaying and advertising something or another all around him as he walked. He did admire the human city, though a bit vulgar for his aristocratic tastes, he still liked all the lights and their rectangle buildings. Indeed, he was strangely drawn to what humans called electronics, and found some of these electronics to be amusing in their functions. The city was so different than his known world, a world full of rules, traditions, and more rules. He liked the exotic feelings whenever he was in the human world.
As he walked further along, his keen ears alerted him of muffled screaming and laughter in a small alleyway up ahead. His feet picked up speed automatically and turned right to face the dark shadows of the alley. He saw movement to his left a little distance away, perhaps a man struggling to restrain a woman.
How pathetic.
"Is this how you spend your nights? Attacking defenseless women?"
The struggling stopped, the man holding the woman's wrists, as he turned his ugly face to look at the source of his interruption. The girl, seeing a clear opportunity, slammed her knee into his stomach and took the brief moment of freedom to escape to the fortitude that her savior represented. She ran behind Byakuya quickly before he had a clear glimpse of her face, but the man presented a new nuisance.
The attacker wielded a small knife in his hand as he approached them. "See, look what you did. You stole my meal away."
Byakuya did not resist the urge to make a disgusted face. "You are weak."
"I'll show you weak!" He snarled and he lunged at Byakuya almost animal-like. Byakuya pushed the girl back with his arm as he dodged the jab of the knife. His gigai, being new and unfamiliar, responded slower than he thought it would and so the tip of the dagger grazed his cheek. His eyes flashed in anger, and he quickly knocked away the dagger with a swipe. It clattered away. Byakuya felt his old, shinigami instincts kick back in and he kicked the man once in the stomach and another time in the face. It knocked him out cold.
When the battle was over, he turned to the girl standing a little ways from him, and he felt his blood chill like as if he had just been dunked into a tub of ice water. Her familiar face caused his heartbeat to ring in his head like bell tolls, and he felt breathless at the sight of those sad eyes.
She stood in all her glory in front of him, dressed in mere jeans and a pretty shirt, but the streetlights cast just amount of light to her so that he could see her face the clearest. It was the same as it was years ago, her hair exactly how he dreamt of it, and her eyes as soulful and as deep as they used to be.
"You're hurt."
And her voice was perfect. Like running water.
She reached up to wipe away the small trickle of blood that ran down his cheek, and he closed his eyes at the touch of her fingers.
"I have some ointment in my apartment if you'd like some." She said. "It's just that building over there."
Wordlessly, his throat dry as sand, he nodded and walked beside her. There was an awkward silence between them, but the girl did not seem to mind. He stole glances down at her, marveling at the reality of her beside him, walking with him as if they were back home like they had been many years ago. His eyes almost ached in continuing to look at her, but it was really his heart that seemed to be stretched over the space between the moon and the earth.
The building, as he noticed, was the same as the one that his apartment was located, but he did not say anything. Her apartment was cozy and nicely decorated in a soft theme of gold and red.
"Please sit down." She while indicating to the couch that was in the living room while she went into her bedroom to get the ointment for his face.
He sat in awe and disbelief, his eyes wandering from the many picture frames that she laid out on the mantle above the fireplace; many of them were of her and who appeared to be her parents, but one small picture caught his eye. He stood to get a closer look, his emotions running freer than ever, and carefully traced the laughing face of Hisana. But the corner of the picture was torn, and he could only make out the build of a man beside her, his hand waving at the camera. The picture itself was worn and dirty, and it looked much older than a decade.
"That picture has a funny story to it." Hisana said in a soft voice from behind him. Byakuya set the picture down and turned back around to face her. She held a small container filled with a white creamy substance, and she motioned for him to sit.
Byakuya waited for her to continue the story, but she didn't, and he didn't ask. The petite woman dipped a finger in the ointment and carefully smoothed it over the surface of his face, and he automatically relaxed at her touch, his mind reverting back to the way he was when he was happily, blissfully married.
"I forgot to ask the name of my rescuer." She said after she finished administering the medicine. She absently brushed away a stray bang from his eye.
"Kuchiki Byakuya." He watched for some kind of response of recognition, but there was none.
Instead, she merely gave him a sad, woeful smile that chipped at the wall around his heart and said, "A beautiful name, Kuchiki-sama. My name is Hisana."
His throat constricted almost in desperation to say, "I know," but he remained speechless. His heart beat rapidly as he wanted to reach out to touch her, to confirm that she was real, but he restrained his hands by firmly gripping the edge of the couch.
"I'm being rude, Kuchiki-sama. Would you like some tea?"
Byakuya met her eyes once more, and he knew he had to get out before he did something completely foolish. "Iie, I will have to decline this time. Please be careful when you are out by yourself. I will take my leave."
He stood up quickly, almost hastily, and he walked to the door with Hisana trailing behind him, her face showing a look of disappointment. Before he could go out the door, she quickly grabbed his hand which caused him to turn around to face her terrible beauty.
"Thank you for saving my life today, Kuchiki-sama. I am forever indebted to you. I hope we meet again."
With that, he could no longer stay in her presence. He pulled his hand from her grasp—he suddenly felt cold without her warmth—and climbed the stairs for another five floors before he arrived at his own apartment. He took out the key and opened the door to his living quarters, but he hardly noticed the fancy furniture and the expensive wine on the coffee table. Byakuya sat down on his leather sofa and closed his eyes to think about what had just happened.
She was here, reincarnated once again, living and breathing under the same pale moon when he had lost all hope of seeing her again. Her picture still resided in the Kuchiki manor, her shrine always dusted and visited by him every Saturday, but here she was in the human world. His calm exterior had cracked under those eyes, and he had felt the dam around his heart crumble once again as it had when he fist saw that ivory face in the filthy, poverty-stricken streets of Inuzuri. And she now lived five floors down.
She was still as beautiful as ever, still as sad as ever. Her eyes had been empty besides guilt and terrible misery. He used to lay awake at night to watch her sleep in peace beside him, her rosy lips slightly parted as she breathed, and he remembered how content he was to have such an extraordinary woman as his wife. When she could no longer hold her spirit, she had left him in a condition where he could only let out the smallest of sighs, his tears held in check to the very end. Outwardly, he never grieved her for her, but his soul had plummeted into despair and loneliness at her departure. Byakuya had never been emotional with anyone besides Hisana, and with her gone, he cast them away as worthless and insignificant because he could no longer share them with someone he loved. Now, she was living so close to him, but it was different.
Hisana did not recognize him. She had no memories of her past life in Soul Society or any of him either. How could he allow himself to endure such a pain like not being recognized by his beloved wife? Kuchiki Byakuya could do many things, but this was not one of them.
He still recalled their life together as vividly as yesterday. He could still remember how he fought tooth and nail with the other members of the clan in order to marry a commoner instead of someone of noble blood. He remembered how some cursed his wedding, his new wife, and how they degraded his name just because they were too stubborn to realize that love knew no boundaries of social class. He could still remember how much she had apologized for not being a noble, for not being a woman of class. And he could remember her tears when he told her that he was sorry that he was not a commoner.
There were so many happy times before her illness. She had been fragile from the beginning, but her spirit had always been so strong even though she was rather soft-spoken. Hisana loved flowers and she adored his zanpakutou release. She said it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. But in reality, Byakuya had always thought that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She loved to put in his kenseikan in his hair, and she became very good at it after practicing for a long, painful year—at least, for him—on his hair. She was always shy, even after their marriage, and she admired his body while blushing at the same time. It was almost a year after the wedding before she worked up the courage to even dare to touch his naked torso.
Hisana died apologizing for being unable to return his love, but he knew that she solely meant that she was sorry for being unable to give him an heir. She had returned his love in plenty of other ways, such as taking care of him when he was wounded or stroking his hair while he lie his head on her lap after a hard day of battling hollows. It was truly the little things that he considered as her way of showing her love for him. But she had always thought of herself as inadequate and lowly, unable to give him happiness in the form of a child. He loved her as if his life had depended on it, and he promised Kami-sama that he would protect her until death do they part. And indeed, death parted them too quickly.
It was true, what she said before she died. The five years of marriage had indeed been a dream, a dream so real that he believed it, but as said, it was only a dream that shattered as soon as he started to believe it.