An early Christmas gift for Dolphin River, who requested Bya/fem!Ichi. Not my best work, but I tried... this pairing would be hard to do properly with at least going novella. And I'm not that giving. amused So I compromised by trying to write something that would at least set up a potential romance. Did it work? I don't know. But keep in mind as you read that what Ichigo perceives is not necessarily the truth of the matter. She is, after all, only sixteen.
I did some research on formal wear for X occasion and on Japanese weddings, but don't be surprised if there are a thousand glaring errors. I live on the other side of the world from Japan, y'know.
BTW, that also means I'm not Kubo Tite. Unless you believe he underwent a genderswap, a deaging, and a translocation. And got amnesia and lost all of his drawing skills. (If you do believe this, excuse me while I run away screaming at the top of my lungs about lunatics.)
Will you in peaceful times, during sickness, this person love, this person respect, this person help, until death, do you promise to fulfill?
Yes, I promise.
-Japanese wedding vows
Her Place
The Hell butterfly alighted on her finger, wings fluttering slowly. Now that it wasn't relaying its message, she admired the black and dark purple color pattern on its wings, raising it to eye level for a better look, only for it to take off and flap away, leaving her alone on the balcony.
She dropped the hand slowly to the balustrade, staring, unseeing, into the setting sun, the butterfly's message echoing in her head.
"Kurosaki Ichigo. The Chamber of 46 has reviewed your case and concluded that your position as Shinigami Representative is extraneous."
Her fingers tightened around the handrail.
"In the interest of your continued service to the Gotei 13, the decision has been made to instate you as captain of the third division."
A whisper of a breezy caressed her face -oh the irony.
"As we realize such a change may be jarring, the Chamber of 46 has also decided that a merger of your own house with one of Seireitei's own noble houses with be beneficial to your integration into life in Seireitei. To that effect…"
Ichigo spoke the last words aloud to the cool evening air.
"…we have taken the authority of arranging your marriage to the scion of one of Seireitei's finest families, Kuchiki Byakuya. In the light of your recent actions toward his younger sister, we expect you will find this most acceptable. Thank you."
Thank you.
Thank you for ruining my fantasies.
-
San-san-kudo.
It ran through Ichigo's mind like a children's song as she took the flat cup of sake from a stone faced Byakuya, looking down into the golden liquid as if it was her death sentence. In a way, it was.
It was a small ceremony. Byakuya, herself, the priest, Rukia, and a few random smug-looking people she assumed were Kuchiki were all that had attended. Her family were in the living world, her family were alive, and she found it oddly heartening, in the dead silence of the chamber, that they would have to die being brought into the mess her existence now was.
Ichigo wanted to chuckle, but she was fairly sure if she did she would laugh until she cried, and that would only make it worse; her fantasies had only included tears of joy, not of hysteria. Not that the fantasies mattered any more.
She looked up into the dark, apathetic eyes of her soon-to-be husband, and sipped. Once. Twice. Thrice.
San-san-kudo.
She so wanted to laugh. So wanted to cry.
But Ichigo would never cry in front of this man. This she swore.
-
There was no breeze. Despite that, it was cool enough that even with the many layers she sported, uchikake over shihakusho over the various underclothing, of which there were many, she wasn't warm. Or maybe it was the man she was with, striding through the blossom-laden sakura grove.
Why they were in bloom Ichigo had no idea. It was, after all, heading into winter.
Byakuya stepped to the side, gently brushing a protruding branch from the path and gesturing for her to proceed him into a spacious gazebo. How gentlemanly.
She stopped a few steps in as her eyes adjusted to the light. "A… memorial stone…?"
"Hisana," said the captain quietly, and she felt her stomach drop unpleasantly. Kuchiki Hisana, Rukia's older sister… Was this the resting place of her ashes? Why had he brought her here? "My wife, as you are aware."
She nodded wordlessly.
"Both you and I…" he continued, apparently choosing his words carefully, "realize that this union is one of convenience, for both the Council and ourselves."
Of course she did. Idealist though she be at times, Ichigo was no fool.
"Your revealed status as a hybrid gave Central 46 the incentive to have your exploits curtailed," explained Byakuya calmly. "Both your captaincy and an engagement were potential venues; I was chosen because of my status as a captain, for the purpose of putting you down myself should you prove disloyal."
You certainly don't have any problem killing family, Ichigo thought darkly, recalling his determination to see through Rukia's execution. "I don't have any intent to 'prove disloyal,'" she fairly growled, offended at the idea, "if that sets your mind at rest."
Her comment went ignored as Byakuya knelt down in front of the memorial stone.
"You cared for her a lot, didn't you?" asked Ichigo after a moment, twitching under the uchikake and wondering if it was being reused. Sure, tradition held that uchikake were only worn once, but she was not Hisana, so she figured it was acceptable, if a bit off-putting.
He nodded mutely, bowing his head as if in prayer, and she continued to fidget, uncomfortable.
"…Ichigo," he spoke finally, "I will treat you as a wife should be treated. I will respect you, I will help you, and should you require it, comfort you. In sickness and in peaceful times, not only in war. But the last vow, I cannot promise to uphold."
Ichigo knew to what he referred, and she looked away, wanting to escape the gazebo but knowing she couldn't run because he was only being honest, and she was little better anyway. "I know," she said shortly, and took a deep breath. "After all, I have to say the same."
He nodded, rising to his feet. "We have an understanding, then."
"I suppose."
Graciously offering his hand again, Byakuya made to help her step out of the gazebo. "There is a lot that will be expected of you now, and only a short time before you will be expected to know it. Therefore, a lesson."
-
Time passed. The lessons came and went, occasionally with Byakuya but more often with some servant or another. She had managed to cross the first hurdle, the first major political event, without making a fool of herself in front of the entire Kuchiki clan.
Ichigo found she was more proud of that than she probably had a right to be. Usually her diplomacy came down to "whoever can take more shit wins." Big Sword Diplomacy, in other words.
At any rate, she was back in her element. Or at least, getting there.
She ran her fingers down the smooth white material, tracing the kanji for "three" that was woven into the back. A captain's haori, marking her as the captain of the third.
A backhanded compliment if there ever was one…
She shrugged it on. Byakuya had already left, a few minutes earlier than usual, and she needed to be at her division's headquarters within fifteen minutes. It didn't take much more than shunpo.
Ichigo had learned, after her initial welcome to the Gotei, that her assignment to the Third Division had been anything but coincidence, anything but random choice. It was simply that, due to the string of captains heading that particular division, it had a certain reputation - that of the "freak division." She hadn't expected her status as a hybrid (if an unwilling one) to be accepted with open arms, but she hadn't expected anything like that, either. It smarted.
Shunpo.
Oh hell yes, it smarted.
"Forget about it," she muttered under her breath, adding in the minuscule personal touches to the flash step that allowed a particular person to exceed the standard speed.
Kira Izuru, her second in command, sat at the desk when she arrived, organizing paperwork. The blonde looked up in surprise when she appeared in the doorway, and swiftly broke eye contact, shuffling some loose sheaves around.
"Good morning, taicho," he muttered.
"Morning, Kira," she replied airily, irritated. The lieutenant's behavior pissed her off. He was just like Toshiro's friend Hinamori, clinging to a memory of the captain he knew and trying to pretend said captain hadn't given them all a metaphorical middle finger in the face to go with the knife in their backs.
He apparently caught the undertone in her voice, because he squirmed a bit, hunkering down in the seat. "I have a message for you… from Unohana-taicho." The blonde fumbled around the desk a bit more, extracting an envelope. "Kotetsu-fukutaicho delivered it."
Ichigo took it, surprised that the healer captain had sent a normal paper missive rather than a Hell butterfly.
There was the inscription at the top, the kanji "four" and Unohana's name and title… a formal missive.
Then she got to the body of the message, and freaked.
Tossing the missive away, Ichigo disappeared in shunpo again, upsetting a stack of paperwork and making Kira blink in shock before bending down to read it himself.
'Karakura-cho in Tokyo attacked…'
'Thirteenth division Kuchiki Rukia in critical condition…'
'Whereabouts of Inoue Orihime and Kurosaki Yuzu unknown…'
-
The fourth division was only one division over from the third, but the distance was still enough that Ichigo felt like ditching shunpo and pulling on her mask instead, despite the impression and the countless nasty effects it would have.
The only thing that kept her from it was the knowledge that if she did, she wouldn't be able to resist using it, and given that her body wasn't accustomed to the strain, she would probably be stuck in the fourth as well.
Orihime and Yuzu are missing… She couldn't chance that she would be too injured by the backlash to search for them. Damn it. Damn it I should have been there! She vaulted over a building, ricocheted off the side, low enough that only sheer skill and a bit of luck prevented some rank-and-file shinigami from being beheaded. Nearly there, nearly there.
Finally, the medical division came into view, and Ichigo used one last modified shunpo to make it to the entrance, startling the shinigami sitting nearby.
"Ichigo-san?"
"Hanataro?"
It appeared the seventh seat had been waiting for her at Unohana's orders, because after some awkward pleasantries ("I- I'm sorry. I should say Kuchiki-dono-" "It's Ichigo. Got that? Just Ichigo.") he smiled and led her in, leading her through the labyrinthine corridors, different for each division.
"Um…" Hanataro stopped at one point at a junction of two halls, biting his lip. "Ichigo-san, I think I should warn you. Kuchiki-taicho… your husband," he amended, "he's already there with Kuchiki-san. Rukia-san."
Despite herself, Ichigo snickered at his predicament. "Byakuya's with Rukia already," she summarized. "So what's the warning?"
Hanataro decided the floor was fascinating, and he glanced down to study it as though he had never seen it before despite walking on it for only God knows how long. "Kuchiki-taicho didn't want you informed," he said quietly. "That's why Unohana-taicho had Kotetsu-fukutaicho send the note rather than use a Hell butterfly; I don't think he wants to see you."
There was a beat of silence in which Ichigo stared dumbly at the medic.
Did he just…?
"That… that… that son of a bitch!" He winced as she latched onto his arm, dragging him down the corridor a few feet before stopping, slightly embarrassed. "Er, Hanataro… what direction should we be going?"
"That way," he pointed, and murmured under his breath so that she couldn't catch it, "Ichigo-san is certainly still Ichigo-san."
-
Hanataro hadn't wanted to come in, so Ichigo stalked into Rukia's recovery room alone. Sure enough, Byakuya was there, and he looked up from the bed as she entered, eyes narrowing to a glare.
"Kotetsu-fukutaicho, I believe I asked for Rukia's condition to not be released."
The assistant captain swallowed, glancing back down to her healing work.
"Well that's too bad," Ichigo snapped, countering her vaunted husband's glare with an equally venomous one of her own. She stepped over to Isane's side, not missing but ignoring the subtle side-step away, watching as the last of Rukia's wounds began to knit closed under the power of the healing kido.
Rukia's eyes slid open as the assistant captain worked, clouded and heavy, and Byakuya took her hand in his own and squeezed, coaxing a response. It came in the form of rapid blinking as the girl tried to focus.
"Nii-sama…?"
He nodded slightly, before looking up, eyes hard. "Ichigo, leave."
Ichigo's own eyes narrowed, but before she could say anything, Rukia spoke again.
"Ichigo…?" Her other hand moved, taking her by surprise, and Ichigo gripped it lightly, swallowing hard and suddenly wishing she had listened to Byakuya's order as Rukia's fingers entwined with hers. "Ichigo… I'm sorry…"
She blinked. "Just what are you sorry about? Sure, you look like crap, but that's hardly your fault."
Rukia chuckled a little, rocking her body in a way that looked painful. "Your sister…"
Yuzu…. Ichigo glanced away, guilt eating at her. "Missing, I know. Orihime, too."
"They aren't… missing," Rukia corrected softly, dark eyes welling with tears. "The arrancar… attacked the clinic. I tried… to protect Yuzu. Karin wasn't home, but Orihime was there…" Her eyes drifted shut again, but she forced them open, forced herself to meet Ichigo's white-faced gaze. "I couldn't do anything… they overpowered me so effortlessly…." Against her will, Rukia's eyes slid shut a third time. "Orihime gave herself up to protect me and Yuzu… but they took Yuzu with them to ensure her cooperation…."
Shaken, Ichigo could only stare mutely at her sister-by-marriage.
All for nothing. The first invasion of Hueco Mundo, all of them nearly being killed to retrieve Orihime the first time, the revelation of her vizard status to the entire freaking Gotei to keep her from being taken a second time…. All for nothing. And now Yuzu was gone too, and they didn't need Yuzu, so they could do anything they wanted to her. Anything at all.
All of that for nothing. No, all of that for worse.
"Ha… ain't that just wonderful…."
There had to be something she could do. Something to save Yuzu, something to get back Orihime. Something. Maybe a trade…
"Ichigo." Byakuya's voice cut like a whip through her thoughts, and she met his eyes. So hard. Always so hard. Always so fucking apathetic. "Leave. The third division is returning to active duty soon, and that cannot happen while its captain dallies about."
'Remember your responsibilities, Ichigo!' she mocked in her mind, wordlessly pulling free of Rukia's clasping hand and walking away. 'I'm the sixth division captain and I'm shunning my duty, but your family doesn't matter, so run along and get back to work.'
The door slammed shut with enough force to make even the injured Rukia jump.
-
Kira eyed her in a manner similar to how someone eyed a ticking time bomb in their midst as he handed her the paperwork that needed her signature. Thankfully, the stack was only a couple inches high; out of principle learned by being the eldest child of a business owner, Ichigo was careful to at the least skim over anything she put her signature on. It worked a lot better than trying to make retroactive laws, and she had little doubt the less scrupulous of the Gotei would be doing their best to make her look incompetent.
Had she not been the one to take the worst of the fall, Ichigo might have been tempted to fake incompetence just to humiliate Byakuya. The fuckwad.
She growled under her breath, ignored Kira's look of alarm, and signed the last document with undue messiness.
"There, Kira," said Ichigo shortly. "Anything else?"
"Not for now, Kuchiki-taicho."
She caught herself before she glanced over her shoulder for Byakuya. This is going to get confusing… "Kurosaki-taicho," she corrected after a moment. "Outside of formal affairs, at least."
That 'it's a wild animal' look was really getting old.
"Uhm. Okay, Kurosaki-taicho."
Ichigo stared deadpan at the blonde for a long moment. The assistant captain began to squirm when the look grew speculative. "Kira… when was the last time you trained your hakuda?"
Clearly surprised at the question, Kira forgot to look at her like she was going to eat him. "I haven't really trained in hand to hand since the classes at the academy," he admitted. "I always preferred kido and zanjutsu."
"What about hoho?"
The blonde was beginning to appear a bit scared, maybe having an inkling of what she had in mind. "I've got the basics, but not shunpo or anything…"
"Good." Ichigo smirked, standing up. Taking Zangetsu from its temporary resting spot by the desk, she slung it over her back as she stood. "I'm good with zanjutsu and hakuda and I don't know shit about kido. The only hoho I know is shunpo… but I've been working on that. And frankly, Kira, your attitude toward me is damn annoying."
"I'm… sorry, taicho." He followed hesitantly at her beckoning hand.
"No you're not." Ignoring Kira's twitch, Ichigo continued. "To that effect, I'm going to beat some hakuda into you, and you're going to get your chance to blast me with kido. See? You'll learn I'm mostly harmless, and we'll both be the better for it."
If I can use kido, then I can use cero, and I should be able to apply the theory. Makes things much easier. Ichigo nodded in satisfaction as she made her way to the third division's training grounds. Her mind drifted back, and the smirk on her lips turned into a scowl. And, if necessary… more tempting.
-
Ichigo tried not to scowl as the servant helped her into the last layer of the homongi, wondering just why in the middle of a war nobility insisted on its little games. She might have asked Byakuya, but he was a wing away, assisting Rukia with her own preparation.
The servant, a wrinkled old woman by the name of Tasuke, tutted as she chose an obi, wrapping it around her waist tightly enough to elicit a squeak.
"Kuchiki-dono, if I may speak freely," she murmured, skillfully knotting the obi.
Reduced to short, shallow breaths, Ichigo gestured for the servant to go on. "Go ahead."
"Rukia-san has attended prior non-family outings," Tasuke said without preamble. "And yet, Byakuya-sama has gone to her side to assist and lecture her on formal behavior. You, on the other hand, have only attended two in-family gatherings. Forgive me for not believing it is because of his unswerving trust in your etiquette."
After a second of blinking in disbelief at the sheer bluntness, Ichigo's eyes dropped to the floor.
"Yours is a marriage of convenience," the servant summarized. "Byakuya-sama often looks at Rukia-san as a replacement for Hisana-sama. While crude, there is a running joke to that effect among we servantry." She was quiet for a moment, and Ichigo caught her unsympathetic brown gaze in the mirror. "You understand that, do you not? It may be you who wore the uchikake, but it is Rukia-san to whom he holds his vows most dear."
"Yes, I do," Ichigo said softly, a twisting feeling in her gut. "We made that rather clear after the initial ceremony." Why did having that knowledge reaffirmed make her feel nauseous?
Tasuke watched her for a moment, an odd look in her eyes that was some strange mix between pity, amusement, and contempt, before beginning to touch up the bright orange hair that cascaded down her back in curls. "How old are you, Kuchiki-dono? In human years?"
What does she want to know my age for? Ichigo wondered, before replying, "Sixteen."
"Good lord," the servant muttered under her breath, sounding truly surprised. "You do realize that Byakuya-sama is nearly twenty times your age? I had thought that you had been one of those early risers… but only sixteen…" She shook her head in disbelief, looking at Ichigo with new respect. "I had wondered why the Kuchiki elders would approve the induction of a lowborn into the family… I had known spite couldn't have been the only reason."
"Spite?" repeated Ichigo dumbly, mind still caught on the fact that Byakuya, by the servant's statement, was around three hundred years her senior. Unbelievable…
"Yes, spite. The council was not pleased with Byakuya-sama's choice in Hisana-sama. It was little better about Rukia-san's adoption, and that only because she would eventually give up the Kuchiki name for another."
Ichigo nodded vaguely. "I see…"
There was a silent moment in which the servant had her turn around so she could see her properly. Tasuke then pronounced her suitable. "Come along now. We need to be along to Rukia-san's quarters to pick up her and Byakuya-sama. He and Okashira-sama will escort you the rest of the way."
-
Although Byakuya had the graciousness to open the first dance with Ichigo, it didn't keep him from ditching her for Rukia afterward. It wasn't just for dancing, as he was more circumspect that that, but he was always nearby, always there.
He wasn't like that for her.
It was that realization that had Ichigo brooding at her desk, not getting any paperwork done at all. The comparisons, the comments, the expressions. Byakuya was softer where Rukia was concerned. Softer, kinder. Closer. Warmer.
With Ichigo, he was a stone-hard block of ice. Apathetic and uncaring. No matter what she did, staring at her with that dark, judgmental gaze, silently dismissing her as inferior. She was glad he was mostly quiet; the few times he spoke, mentioning how Hisana did this or Hisana did that…. It stung. Hell, stung was an understatement.
Damn it. She was not Hisana, and would never be Hisana.
And Rukia isn't Hisana either, Ichigo added darkly. Although one might think so considering the way he acted about her. Rukia, Rukia, Rukia. Hisana, Hisana, Hisana.
Ichigo just got so tired of being the third wheel in a relationship that wasn't. Tired of being the official stand-in for a pair that couldn't be.
She glared darkly at the document in front of her and wondered if it would get approved if she wrote 'Kurosaki Ichigo' instead.
-
Ichigo met Wabisuke's hooked blade with Zangetsu, grunting as she felt the already - for most people - unwieldy weight double. Up until this point she had managed not to have to block, knowing the nasty ability her assistant captain's sword had; it was hell against a melee specialist.
Twisting around, she used all available strength to send Zangetsu flying, tearing Kira's zanpakuto from his grip and continuing her turn, lashing out with a haymaker propelled by centrifugal force.
The strength tossed the blonde right off his feet, and Ichigo followed up, dropping to the ground and kicking backward to catch the airborne body.
"Hado 31: Shakkaho!"
Her eyes widened in alarm, and she let her right arm collapse, landing with little grace and rolling away from the kido that roasted the spot she had been in previously. Flipping back upright, she fell into a ready stance, smirking at Kira, who wilted against the ground, pouting in disappointment.
"Close one there," she admitted, smirking at his expression. "Almost hit me." She gestured with her fingers. "Up. Let's try that again."
Kira groaned. "Must I, taicho? Must I?"
"Yes you must." The defeated look on her assistant captain's face was utterly hilarious, and Ichigo had difficulty keeping the smirk from morphing into a huge sadistic grin. It wouldn't help the shaky image of herself she had worked to build in her division's mind.
Getting past the vizard stigma was a challenge. Ichigo didn't think anyone would be truly comfortable with it for a long time.
"Um… taicho?"
Distracted from her fun by the quiet, hesitant voice of Uragawa Koshito, she looked aside, meeting the pale blue eyes inquiringly. The eleventh seat quickly glanced down, nervously running a hand through her short, white-blond hair.
Uragawa pointed off to the side with a trembling finger. "I… I think you have a message… Kuchiki-taicho." The Hell butterfly the girl had been pointing to fluttered over to alight on her finger, and she looked somewhat startled.
Frowning, Ichigo briefly contemplated ignoring the message. Her sole other butterfly message had been a nightmare in the making… but uncomfortably she thought about the rant she would get from Byakuya if he found out she had ignored a message. Granted, he was gone on an assignment. Something about an arrancar scouting group being spotted in the Rukongai, studying the sekkiseki wall.
Suddenly a little worried, she extended her hand and the butterfly flew around into her palm, beginning to relay its message.
"Kuchiki-taicho of the third division, this is Unohana Retsu of the fourth. This message is to inform you that you and I are being assigned as reinforcements to the unit led by your husband Kuchiki-taicho of the sixth, which has met with unanticipated strength in the form of the first and fourth Espada, as well as the Fraccion Lilinette."
Why are my bad gut feelings always accurate…? Ichigo curled her fingers, concentrating on giving the butterfly a return message. "Sorry, Kira, but we have to cut this short. Go on over to the fourth division and get looked at, 'kay?"
Both assistant captain and eleventh seat, as well as the other spectators, jumped as Ichigo brought her hand to her face, summoning her Hollow mask as she slung Zangetsu across her back.
"See ya around," she said candidly, before shifting her weight and vanishing from sight.
-
The bite of the still air was cruel to the skin on her arms and made her grudgingly thankful for the protection of the mask on her face. It wasn't that Ichigo could feel the countless small scratches made by the ambient reishi as she passed through beyond the conformity point, the Hollow's influence crawling through her veins dulling her sensitivity to pain to nearly nothing, but it was a reminder that she was playing with a technique she had yet to master.
Ichigo had taken into account the reishi obstruction in trying to find a way around it, but apparently, she had forgotten a few things.
Ah well. Just something else she had to work on.
The gate was opening when she caught sight of it a few seconds later, but she saw that Unohana was already there, no doubt having anticipated her reaction. Deciding against her initial inclination to speed right through, she hurriedly let her mask fade, dropping clumsily into a grossly accelerated shunpo and skidding to a stop.
The short flash of surprise on the healer captain's face was gratifying.
"You're here faster than I had thought," she admitted. "Go on ahead. Kuchiki-taicho clashed with the arrancar on the outskirts of Suzutomei."
Ichigo nodded sharply, stepping through the gateway, closing her eyes and reaching out with her senses. The mass of spirit ribbon was almost choking, but she recognized Byakuya's with little trouble - the red was bleached to a delicate pink in places. Ribbon firmly in hand, she stepped into shunpo, building up speed before finally calling up her Hollow mask and escalating into her hybrid version of the flash step.
Much better, she decided, not feeling the jolt of pain that had raced through her legs earlier.
Suzutomei was the second district of East Rukongai. Ichigo thought she remembered Byakuya mentioning it had been named for a shrine that once stood in the area, decorated with numerous clear bells that tinkled with the slightest brushing of the wind. Of course, he had also mentioned that the shrine had since been razed to the ground during the civilian uprising that led to the building of the Great Seireitei Wall.
Her mind didn't have long to wander on history, however, as the threads of reddish pink multiplied in number, telling her she was getting close.
Another step - the world settled into clarity for one lucid moment, before she stepped again, eyes wide in alarm, pushing herself harder.
The ring of metal on metal brought the action to a temporary standstill.
The strain of holding off the first Espada's blade meant little compared to Byakuya's face. Slashed up, bruised, and bloody with enough broken bones that she could tell by looking, he still had the 'what the fuck?' expression that never ceased to bring a grin to her face. Along with some other expression, something like a mixture of alarm and horror, but she wasn't sure just what provoked that response. It wasn't as if the captain had never seen her Hollow mask before.
"Seems like I have a habit of saving Kuchiki ass, don't it, Byakuya?" Ichigo teased, pulling her mask up to rest on the top of her head, before turning around.
The Espada stared back neutrally for a moment, his lips upturning a second later.
For the second time in an evening, Ichigo felt that she was about to learn some unpleasant news.
-
Though Byakuya had been treated on site, his condition was still severe enough that Unohana had him transported via Minazuki to the fourth division. Isane and Renji were transported in the manta ray's gullet, and Ichigo sat mutely on its back with her, watching (but not really seeing) as she worked.
She wasn't sure if the healer captain had heard; she wasn't sure when she had arrived, though it probably hadn't been long after she had. But Unohana was observant. Observant enough to realize that something had her upset, even if the subtle prodding had garnered no information.
But thankfully, Unohana had let her alone after the initial investigation.
Ichigo really needed to return to the third division office, really ought to get back to work. Dropping her head into her hands, she closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing, fighting back the moisture gathering behind her eyelids and the consequent heaving of breath. She wouldn't… she wouldn't…
"Ichigo…"
Deep, low, steady. Byakuya. He was awake?
She brushed her hands over her eyes before opening them, trying to make the wetness go away. She would not cry, and especially not in front of Byakuya. Especially not in front of the stick-up-the-ass mister-emotionless Kuchiki. She would not cry, damn it!
His eyes softened.
Ichigo could only meet his eyes for a second before she broke eye contact, disgusted with herself. She rubbed away the recalcitrant tears furiously.
There was no window in this room; Ichigo was not sure whether she was angry that there wasn't anything suitable to stare out of or glad that there was no way for someone to stare in. The only reason she had come here was because Unohana had assured her that Byakuya wouldn't be waking anytime soon.
She must have lied… There was no way the healer captain would be so off in her diagnosis.
It would have been a convenient excuse had anyone looked in. I'm here to keep watch over my hubby, ma'am. Convenient enough that no one would think she had her own reasons for sitting with an unconscious man in a room that was a little too cold and silent as the grave.
"Ichigo," she heard again, Byakuya's voice a little stronger, "what was… your sister's name?"
Smiling, smiling. Always smiling, always cheerful. Homemaker. Cook. Blonde, almost as much of an oddball as her in that respect. And sweet. Innocent. Undeserving.
She swallowed a sob, choking on the already tight knot in her chest.
So. Fucking. Undeserving.
"Yuzu… had nothing to do with this stupid war…" With nothing else to do, Ichigo slammed her fist down on a medicine cabinet, disappointed when it didn't break. Reinforced, then. "She didn't do anything, didn't know anything…."
The only connection she had to this war was me.
The addendum went unspoken and implied.
There was a brief rustling sound as Byakuya attempted to push himself into a more upright position, something he accomplished with only marginal success.
"It is said that the most tragic of war's casualties are the innocents that are lost to its fury," he offered after a moment, studying her intently, still with that strange, softer gaze.
Ichigo's fist clenched a second time, and she stared daggers down at the cabinet - or tried to. The moisture was clouding her vision. She moved her other hand to brush it away again only to have her wrist caught in a surprisingly firm grip.
"Byakuya-" She couldn't manage anything further; damn his eyes. Not pity, hardly sympathy, not even gentle. But soft, almost kind - and somehow at the same time steady and unwavering. The unshakeable calm that frustrated her so much was a relief in a sea of doubt and grief.
His grip loosened, sliding down to grasp her hand instead, face serious.
I will not cry. She wasn't one to break promises, especially those to herself.
For once she did.
Ichigo's whole body shook, and, draping his arm around her shoulders in a gesture of comfort, Byakuya allowed her to sob into his chest.
For theirs, in the end, was a story about vows. Holding them up, and breaking them down.
Lovely romance, innit? Not. But I tried, at least.