Renji Birthday Gifts, a bleach fanfic

Title: Gifts and related Omake

Characters: Byakuya, Renji, Rukia, Matsumoto, Hitsugaya (ByaRen and implied Hitsumatsu)

Summary: A little birthday fic for Renji, and the expansion of a couple of ideas taken from the Legacy chapter and the first omake interlude to the Consummation chapter in "Renji Reflection"

Ratings/Warnings: T+ /Uh… extreme fluff? Bawdy humour?

Disclaimer: Don't own Bleach, not even bleach

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Rukia peered around the study door, eyes sweeping the room before the rest of her slipped respectfully through the door. Byakuya could have mentioned that Renji had not yet returned from the Fifth Division, but despite the fund of patience he had established for the antics of younger siblings, there were days where he found that he could not always summon the least iota of charitable, or fraternal, feeling.

"Yes, Rukia, what is it?" His eyes did not leave the document he was perusing.

"Nii-sama." Rukia's voice was subdued, but Byakuya knew enough of her misadventures to find her tones unconvincing. A decade and a different, difficult relationship ago, the timidity in Rukia's voice might have been genuine, but now he could only ascribe it to residual trepidation from her latest prank, and he doubted she could give him reason to believe otherwise. Certainly, Renji was at the moment on the warpath where she was concerned.

Finally, after what he judged to be an admonitory silence of appropriate length, Byakuya laid down his document and looked across at his sister. She was gazing at him, earnest but not cowed. With an inward sigh, he gestured to a chair. "You may speak, Rukia."

"Nii-sama is aware that Renji's birthday is approaching." Byakuya lowered his eyelids in acknowledgement. Rukia knew that it was he who handled all matters which pertained to them as a couple, including official documents.

"Perhaps Nii-sama is also aware of Renji's annual birthday custom?"

Byakuya's eyes opened again. "You refer to your pilgrimage to Rukongai to visit the graves of your Rukongai family? Renji has informed me of that custom." It was his assumption that the three of them would proceed together to Rukongai that morning.

Rukia's expression turned even more earnest. "Yes, Nii-sama. We have made that pilgrimage together every year of the last decade. But this year, I would like to request that Nii-sama present my apologies to Renji."

Byakuya's eyebrows lifted. "Do you not wish to accompany us, Rukia? After all, they are your family too."

Rukia bowed respectfully. "I will visit them at another time." Then a slight smile lit her face. "It is my belief that it is more fitting that only you accompany Renji. I think he would like to introduce you to the others." Her smile turned mischievous. "And I know he would like to have you all to himself. It is his birthday after all."

The glint in her eyes was disconcerting. "Rukia, neither Renji nor I will be pleased if any initiative on your part should disrupt his birthday."

Rukia's eyes widened innocently. "Please be assured, Nii-sama, that I treat Renji's birthdays with the utter gravity." Bowing again, she withdrew to the door and disappeared around it.

This time, Byakuya's sigh was audible. A niggling voice reminded him that Rukia had not made any promises. Yet, her gesture was a generous and tactful one, and he was fully appreciative of it. Perhaps intelligent and attentive younger sisters were, sometimes, to be counted among the blessings in one's life. And perhaps he could persuade Renji to be pleased with Rukia for the first time in this fortnight.

The morning of Renji's birthday dawned bright and sunny with a hint of autumnal chill. Dressed in off-duty finery, Byakuya and Renji made their way rapidly through Seireitei, eschewing the main thoroughfares. Once they reached more isolated environs, their bodies drew closer together of their own accord, sleeve brushing sleeve in a rustle of silk, their hands joining in accustomed clasp. Byakuya glanced at Renji. He was dressed in one of Byakuya's birthday presents, a kimono of burnished bronze silk matched with dark hakama. It set off his crimson hair, gathered at his nape in a knot similar to, if less clumsy than, Kyouraku's untidy one. Byakuya had participated in Renji's toilette that morning, a pleasure for the senses, he mused, to be exceeded only when he disrobed him. There would be a surfeit of pleasure in the offing. He was determined on that. A tiny smile of satisfaction curled his lips.

With shunpo, their destination was quickly achieved. They stood silently over the mounds, nearly eroded by time and the elements, but obviously still maintained with care. Byakuya looked at each name on the simple markers, so much part of Renji's childhood. This was the clumsy friend who always tripped Renji up when they were running, and had suffered no few thumps for that, though Renji had always maintained that his brand of retribution was gently exacted. That name belonged to the joker in the group, who could always cheer the gloom of Rukongai life and set them off in aching laughter. The final name possessed the voice of sanity, especially given to protest during the planning of a daring escapade. Or, as Renji had put it, he was the one who was always scared.

Finally, Byakuya spoke. "Will you introduce me to your Rukongai family, Renji?" His partner was gazing meditatively into the distance, his eyelids half lowered, his expression relaxed. It changed into one of surprise at Byakuya's words.

"Introduce you?"

Byakuya gestured at the graves and comprehension lit Renji's eyes, followed by amusement. Shaking his head, he said, "You know as well as I do that they aren't here anymore."

Byakuya lifted a brow. Renji let out a deep breath, then took Byakuya's hands in his. "I would introduce them to you if I knew where they were, but they would likely not recall me." His face went somber for a moment. They understood that no soul deserved to bear the burden of its past lives, yet when one had family, those who remained lived with the knowledge that a reborn soul would no longer recognize even the closest kin from a previous life, not even if they stood beside each other.

Renji's lids lowered for several heartbeats, then lifted to reveal his usual clear, incisive gaze, tinged with good cheer. "But I'm always hoping that they are enjoying the full span of their years in the living world, in good company and in good health. By all reckoning, they should be dandling their grandchildren on their knees now, or puttering around in their retirement."

He cocked his head, grinning, "Though I can hardly imagine the kinds of grandfathers they would make. We were all irresponsible young ruffians then!" There was fond disbelief in his voice. After all, Byakuya reflected, they had scarcely left their childhood when they had parted, and even now, Renji was a man in the prime of his life, untouched by old age and greying locks. And so he would remain for centuries to come.

Renji's voice became solemn with his next words. "And when they are ready to return to Soul Society, I wish for them that their lives will be better this time than the last." He fell silent on that wish, and Byakuya tightened his hands on Renji's as they stood quietly in the sunlight. The fate and disposition of each soul that entered Soul Society was beyond the power of the shinigami to guide. Wishes and strong belief were all even the most powerful shinigami could manage.

Then Renji smiled ruefully. "I'm a self-centered bastard, you know. I don't come out here year after year to talk to them or to commemorate them, as you thought, but to recall the Abarai Renji I was, growing up in Rukongai with the guys, and to reflect on the Abarai Renji I have become. And to hope that by some proper measure or other, it is not always the same Abarai Renji." He lifted Byakuya's hands to his lips. "Are you disappointed?"

Byakuya drew Renji closer to him in response and reassurance. How could his partner ever imagine that he would be upset, he wondered, when the man before his eyes was always so solidly, so consistently, so irrefutably Abarai Renji? "A wise man once told me," he began, "that he would be satisfied with a simple marker for his grave. After all, he had plans for his future lives that did not include that grave." Slipping his hands from Renji's, he cupped his jaw, angling it downwards so his lips could brush against that generous and mobile mouth.

When they drew apart, Renji's eyes were tender and he was wearing their private smile. "You're making me into a sap, Byakuya. But you know?" He paused and took a breath, a familiar action that Byakuya knew heralded an admission Renji considered of utmost importance. "I always knew I had lifetimes to come up in here," he pointed to his head, "but you have made me understand it in here." He laid a hand on his chest.

Byakuya's breath hitched. Renji might call himself overly sentimental, but what did that make a Kuchiki Byakuya who was in his turn so susceptible to this Abarai Renji? "Shhhh," he whispered hoarsely, fumbling for his voice, "you should not make me such gifts when it is your birthday, not mine."

The river ran languidly, with occasional ripples over a protruding rock. At its banks, delicate dragonflies buzzed gently and flew circles around the sturdier lotus flowers and the slower-moving frogs. Here and there a bird would chitter and swoop, but most preferred to perch on the bare, desultory tree that purchased a precarious existence at the edge of the river. Before this indifferent audience, two men in subtly coloured silks held each other in intimate embrace, black and deep gray brought to greater depth against crimson and bronze.

The dark-haired man tucked an errant red curl over his lover's ear. "Let us return home," he murmured, the words barely carrying on the wind, "and we will celebrate the Abarai Renji you have become."

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Omake 1 Rukia's Offence: Before the Birthday

Renji burst into Byakuya's study on a wave of outraged reiatsu, cheeks flushed, crimson hair crackling with fiery gold highlights, momentum carrying him right to the edge of Byakuya's desk. Byakuya's lower brain paused for a moment to admire the sight, then reluctantly acknowledged that Renji's expression and reiatsu spoke of fury, not ardour.

Slamming a fist down on the desk, Renji growled, "Byakuya, I am going to strangle your sister."

It was strange, Byakuya mused, not for the first time, how Rukia was never their sister but Byakuya's alone when she had committed some offence.

Raising an eyebrow, he inquired mildly, "And what has Rukia done now?"

Renji visibly gritted his teeth as he shoved a glossy leaflet at Byakuya. It took nothing more than a quick glance to bring him to his feet, and send him halfway across the room to open the doors to his display cabinet. As he had feared, the box containing the silk-wrapped braid he had harvested from Renji on that one irresistible occasion was empty. Now, Rukia's unwonted curiosity the last time she had browsed the cabinet slid with unwelcome promptitude into his mind.

Suppressing a wince, as well as no inconsiderable umbrage of his own, he turned to face Renji. The latter was glaring at him balefully. After all, if one sought first causes, it could be said that Byakuya had provided not only the inspiration, but also the opportunity.

Both his lower and higher brains urged decisive and immediate action. On a quick shunpo, he was wrapped around his partner, utilizing hands and lips and every other body part he could employ in the endeavor. Experience told him that if he persevered, a curious alchemy between them invariably transmuted one sort of passion into another.

Once again, Byakuya's instincts spoke true. For the rest of the evening, the source of conflict lay forgotten on his desk.

"Special Announcement! We are offering a limited Original Hair Rapunzel edition of the Abarai Renji doll from our "Cross-Dressing Men of Seireitei" series. Only three dozen dolls have been produced, and each is individually numbered. Available by bid and auction only. The SWA. Project director: Kuchiki R."

Delivered on fine notepaper to Byakuya's study a few days later. "I regret to inform you, Nii-sama, that you have been outbid."

XXX

Omake 2 Rukia's Atonement: Renji's Birthday

On their return from Rukongai, Senzo met them at the door. The mildly bemused expression on his usually imperturbable face prompted Renji to utter a loud sigh. "Spit it out, Senzo. What has Rukia done now?"

The steward bowed to Renji. "The young lady took charge of your suite after you and the master left this morning, Abarai Taichou." Renji exchanged glances with Byakuya, then turned back to Senzo.

"She did not introduce anyone into the residence, did she?"

A grimace that looked like it might have been a suppressed smile flitted briefly over Senzo's features. "No. She also left instructions that no visitors were to be admitted to the residence after your return."

Renji relaxed marginally. That sounded… promising. On that thought, he felt a flush rise to his cheeks. Beside him, Byakuya spoke with his usual calm authority. "Thank you, Senzo. We will manage on our own for the rest of the day." Collecting Renji with a quick sidelong glance, he led the way to their suite.

Rukia had filled their bedchamber with strings of frost-encrusted lanterns suspended in a lattice from the ceiling. Attached to the lanterns like clusters of chimes and winking in the room were delicate snowflakes and ice stars. On the central wall, a fresco of ice recreated a landscape of craggy peaks and surging waters. It was a gift of winter wonder, one only the wielder of a snow and ice zanpakutou could bestow.

Warmth was provided by the bronze-coloured bedclothes. They were the exact shade of Renji's kimono, and now, Byakuya thought with amused anticipation, nude or robed, Renji would be framed by that subtly luminous hue, ruby eyes filled with the passionate and solemn intensity that Byakuya could never resist and never desired to.

Beside the futon, laid out on a tray of ice, were bowls of strawberries and perfectly cubed watermelon chunks. Another tray held whipped cream, melted chocolate and green tea powder, while ice decahedrons retained their pristine shape in a gloriously carved ice bowl. By any measure, Rukia's particular birthday present to Renji was both creative and well-conceived.

Renji gave a half impressed, half amused snort. "Rukia doesn't do anything by halves, does she?" A well-muscled arm circled Byakuya's waist. Then his voice turned plaintive. "But do her gifts always have to be about our sex lives? And what's with the watermelon anyway?"

The questions, Byakuya surmised, were merely rhetorical. He arched an eyebrow. "Would you wish to question Rukia?" Renji stared blankly at Byakuya for a moment, then shook his head, laughing ruefully.

His other arm folded around Byakuya. Leaning into him, his voice deepened to a husky growl, "In that case, we shouldn't be ungrateful, should we?"

"Ah." Byakuya murmured, delicately inhaling Renji's ozone and musk scent. "Such a bounty of beauty should not go unrecognized."

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Omake 3 The Truth about Watermelon: Heard around the Tenth Division

"Really?" asked Rukia dubiously. They were sitting outside the Tenth Division office. "Watermelon does that? Flavours and deodorizes those emissions?"

Matsumoto winked. "Trust me." She stretched like a cat that had lapped up all the cream. "I'd know."

Rukia blinked. Then the penny dropped.

From the office came a roar. "Matsumoto, get back in here, now!"

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Omake 4 Watermelon II

"But men can be so obtuse," Rukia objected. "Will they even notice?"

Matsumoto's eyes and mouth widened into Os of astonishment. "But Rukia," she said admonishingly, "we're talking about those two. Your brother, of course, has been brought up with a great noble's palate, and to say that Renji cooks would be a huge disservice to him, that man is a chef of the highest caliber. And you think they won't notice a difference in taste?"

Suddenly, a shadow appeared over them. Hitsugaya was frothing at the mouth. "You," a finger pointed accusingly at Matsumoto, "in the office. And you," the finger swerved towards Rukia, "not everyone shares your fascination with your brothers, so stay away from my office window!"