Remembrance
chapter 1. Sumimasen
"Sumimasen."
How long has it been?
How long, since the last time someone dared to look me in the eye?
And with such a nonchalant air?
Perhaps decades, perhaps centuries.
After all, it has been a long time, since I found myself at the pinnacle of nobility and power. The Shiba clan has long fallen from grace, and the Shihouin princess is quite a disaster, even before her disappearance. Only the Kuchiki remain.
Kuchiki Byakuya, the honor now rests on you. So she said, with those cold hands smooth like porcelain on my shoulder. Honor. The only thing you will ever need to know.
A mother's touch should not chill one to the bones.
No more hugs, no more pats on the head, no more smiles. No one dares.
And that was a long time ago, when I had to look all the way up to see people's faces, if they were not kneeling.
It is cold high up here, I have long gotten used to it.
Coldness clears the mind and cools the heart. It's good for the great leader of the Kuchiki clan. It's not good for me. But Soul Society needs only Kuchiki-dono and Kuchiki-taichou, not just Byakuya.
It is sinful to think otherwise.
"Sumimasen."
So she has spoken.
An unfamiliar face. But then, who in this whole household is not unfamiliar? The servants come and go like silent ghosts. That is the intended quality of servants, though sometimes I forget that they even exist.
"Sumimasen."
Patience is a virtue of servants, but not annoying persistence.
"You are stepping on the leaves…"
Leaves?
Someone rush out from the side corridor, snatches her broom, and smacks her on the head with it. "HISANA! How dare you"
She falls to the ground, strangely silent.
"My utmost apologies, Kuchiki-dono. This wretch is the new servant girl, forgive her impertinence…"
"Enough." How I wish they would not be so long-winded? That is not possible though.
"You humble servant is truly, truly sorry…"
Be gone, my silence said, and the offender scuttles off.
She picks herself up and resumes her position, but she remains silent and unmoving.
Those eyes, quite uncomfortably penetrating, pierce into the ground under my feet. Why should I feel a small tinge of guilt? This is ridiculous.
Right, leaves.
I am standing on a small pile of leaves.
I see.
At any rate, I am not planning to stand here forever. Yet going off now seem like making a retreat.
It's just a servant. I am much more above it.
I walk pass her in a perfect straight line as though she never existed.
She must feel my pure disregard for her existence.
Yet there are no words from her, not even an "Arigatou". Just the rhythmic swish of a broom gathering leaves.
It is only a long while later, that the cold wind blew away my injured vanity, newly discovered as I found myself walking briskly towards nowhere.
The swishing of broom on dead leaves is already too far to hear.
Silence is good, no Kuchiki-dono, no dishonor.
I ought to repent for that thought.