Title: When the Shoe Fits (Part 1)
Author: hu3long2
Characters: RenBya and a bunch of Bleachies
Word count: ~5100
Rating: PG (R later)
Warnings/Spoilers: AU, dark themes (later), Cinderella story told RenBya style
Disclaimer: Don't own Bleach, not even bleach
Once upon a time, when magic served the land and dragons conversed with men, there lived in the kingdom of Rottenwood a young prince of renown, fair in form and firm of purpose, obedient and law-abiding. And destined for the one unchanging fate which all good princes embraced-- marriage.
In Rottenwood, as in so many other realms, royal marriages wore the rose tint of fairy tales. Many an evening, king and consort shared tender glances, hands clasped and eyes making promises towards the time when their heir and all their subjects would have retired for the night. Every royal marriage in the previous twenty-seven generations had been arranged, as the law dictated. By tradition, every marriage had been blessed with singular felicity.
The royal heir of the twenty-eighth generation, the prince of our tale, Kuchiki Byakuya, knew his duty well. On his twenty-first birthday, the royal advisor Urahara Kisuke and the two royal physicians Kurosaki Isshin and Ishida Ryuuken, the Three Pillars of Rottenwood, measured him with great pomp and ceremony. On the morn of the third day, as was decreed for all things magical, they emerged from Urahara's workroom and presented the Kuchiki Shoe to the prince, the twenty-eighth of its kind.
Kuchiki Byakuya knew his duty, but a man's dreams were his own, and he dreamt of silver as the royal carriage progressed through the cities and towns of Rottenwood.
"That's the final one," said Urahara Kisuke, marking off an item on his map. "Now only the capital is left."
"See, Sukey, that's why we should have started in the capital, rather than rattling all around the kingdom! My ass hurts!" Kurosaki Isshin shifted uncomfortably, then winced.
"But I have been very gentle this trip, love," said Urahara Kisuke lightly, his eyes shielded under the brim of his customary striped hat. Kurosaki pouted.
The fourth occupant of the carriage adjusted his glasses and his seat. "Foolish as ever, Isshin." The chilliness of his voice matched his demeanor.
"Why aren't you achy, Ryuuey?" Kurosaki returned to drooping when frigid silence met his query.
Byakuya ignored the byplay. The relationship between the Three Pillars was a matter for acceptance, not comprehension. And who dared speculate aloud? The mysterious Urahara, the boisterous Kurosaki and the aloof Ishida-- Rottenwood born and bred, bound by solemn oath to Rottenwood and its royal family. Like their predecessors, a triumvirate raised by each age to settle its vicissitudes. They were the tutors of Byakuya's youth, and would be his advisors when he ascended the throne. For now, however, his attention was on the rhythm of his heart as the carriage sped them back to the capital. Soon...
They began in the tenements, the quartet knocking on each door and, as custom demanded, explaining their errand. Then the prince, pale and stern, would go on one knee as he carefully placed the Kuchiki shoe on each eligible foot, however humble. The onlookers would be expectant and reverent in the face of a tradition that was repeated every generation. This was the royal heir's true coming of age, his official introduction to his people as he sought a mate among them. Not for Rottenwood the deliberations and delegations that would beckon to the scion of a neighbouring or distant royal line. Rottenwood's consort was found among the lowest and the highest of the kingdom itself. Byakuya's grandfather had wed a ducal scion, albeit of a much diminished line, but the present consort had grown up in a lesser city in tenements very like these and had not been the first to do so.
This was one of Rottenwood's great magics. It sealed the compact between the royal family and its people. "And keeps the population figures up," commented Urahara. "Every family wants to produce the next royal consort."
The Heir's Perambulation, so termed since time immemorial, continued through the dwellings of the commoners, the artisans, the merchants of the capital, then found its way into the stately residences of the lower and the middle nobles. As they alighted yet again from the carriage, Urahara made a moue of distaste. The air was heavy with the scent of lilies-of-the-valley. "Residence of the widowed Lady A," he said briefly.
Byakuya raised an inquiring eyebrow. Urahara's usual loquacity was in abeyance, that command of sly commentary he had mastered so artfully. Even the noisy Isshin was subdued under the weight of his silence. Meeting Byakuya's eye, Urahara condescended to add, "Surely she needs no introduction. She married a noble who had sufficient standing to attend on his majesty. Then he died once she had established her position at court and now she promotes the interests of her son Gin. He claims an acquaintance with your highness, I believe."
Lady Aizen and Gin! Byakuya's heart skipped several beats at the sounds of those names. So this was where he and his mother lived. Eagerly he looked towards the great doors, though his stride retained its usual stately pace, mindful of the presence of the royal retainers.
The Aizen household was lined up in the Great Hall to receive the royal entourage. Urahara exchanged exquisitely polite greetings with the lady of the house and introduced Byakuya, to the accompaniment of weak hurrahs sounded under the warm brown gaze of their hostess. Formalities were concluded with the exodus of the entire group, visitors, hosts and servants, to the drawing-room. After an appreciative comment on the exquisitely spare calligraphy that hung on the walls, Urahara fluttered his ever-present fan and motioned to the silver-haired youth who stood besides Lady Aizen. "Let us proceed apace then. If young master Gin..."
Lady Aizen held up a well-groomed hand. "We will yield to the junior members of the household, Lord Urahara. Won't we, Gin?" She smiled gently at her son, who nodded, slitted eyes and broad smile lengthening impossibly. More enthusiastic hurrahs rose from the assembled servants, and the bolder did not stint on their loudly-whispered asides. "That's her ladyship for you! Always thinking of us!"
Byakuya masked his surprise. This was a departure from the usual practice of the wealthier households they had visited. At almost every stop, there had been a concerted and what he considered disgraceful stampede towards the Kuchiki shoe by the sons of the house, the favoured sons to the fore, their lesser brothers impatiently waiting their turns and barely masking their glee at their siblings' failure. It was only when disappointment had blighted the hopes of the young masters that the servants were permitted to enter into Byakuya's presence.
"Generous as always, Lady Aizen." Urahara's fan swished back and forth rapidly.
His amused tone was met with a calm and benevolent smile. "Hardly, Lord Urahara. After all, these young men are the backbone of my household, and I could hardly deny them this little treat."
The fan hid Urahara's lower face while his eyes widened quizzically. "Surely, not such a little treat!" he exclaimed, his tone one of amused reproach. "It is the Heir's Perambulation, after all!"
Lady Aizen's smile remained unchanged. With a curtsey in Byakuya's direction, she said, "We share all Rottenwood's hopes that His Highness may be blessed with a consort of the highest character and grace." Byakuya inclined his head in acknowledgment of her words.
Urahara snapped his fan shut. "Well, well," he said decisively, "since Lady Aizen has so generously yielded Master Gin's rightful place at the head of the queue, let's get on with it, shall we?" He waved the waiting male servants to the centre of the room. At his slight nod, Byakuya took up his position beside the Kuchiki shoe and uttered the ritual words, "Let the ten thousand cher ry blossoms flower in a vibrant display." With that, the wards around the shoe extended over the entire house and the consort test was initiated for the Aizen household.
Even to Byakuya's critical eyes, the servants of the Aizen household were exceptionally well-disciplined. As each eligible young man came forward, he would bow to Byakuya to a precise point of protocol, then seat himself on the provided stool and hold himself still while Byakuya shoed him. There was no giggling or blushing to indicate his awareness that it was the royal heir himself who was performing the humble deed. Around them, his peers would watch in careful silence, showing no reaction as each suitor retreated in failure. With each rejection, Lady Aizen's smile grew infinitesimally more compassionate while Urahara's eyes became more shadowed and more watchful.
"My, Lady Aizen, you do have a very large household of young men," commented Urahara, as the last rejected candidate bowed respectfully and returned to his place among the household ranks.
"I have a fondness for young people, and young men are so robust and invincible, are they not?" Lady Aizen's smile deepened as she angled her head and glanced at Urahara out of the corner of her eyes. "Besides, Gin must have his little playmates." The young man beside her bowed, red eyes glinting.
"Your ladyship is known to be a doting mother." Urahara's tone was noncommittal. "Ah, that's the last of your retainers then. Now, Master Gin, if you please?" He nodded at the young master of the household.
Suddenly, Lady Aizen swayed. Gin swung around in mid-step and caught his mother in an easy embrace which belied the slightness of his frame. As her son held her gently against him, Lady Aizen said weakly, "I beg your pardon, Highness, my lords, an old ailment."
There was a rustle of cloth. Ishida Ryuuken stepped forward and spoke, his tone never deviating from its customary steely iciness, "Lord Kurosaki and I are pleased to offer our services, Lady Aizen. We have made a particular study of chronic diseases."
A weak protest in a faltering voice was heard, "Oh no, too much, the royal physicians…" until Gin put a hand over his mother's lips, saying, "Hush, Mother. It will be fine." He turned back to the visitors, bowing gracefully around the weight of his mother. "I thank you for the offer, Lord Ishida, but my mother only requires a dose of her tonic. If I may beg your indulgence, gentlemen, we will withdraw to the side room momentarily and I will have the servants bring out refreshments." His enigmatic smile deepened as he shot Byakuya a last look. "My pardon, your highness." His tongue lingered over the syllables and Byakuya shivered.
The departure of their hosts brought not relief, but tension to the royal party. Urahara clapped his hands together and looked somberly at his two fellow Pillars. Kuroraki's grin had become a ferocius rictus that matched the hard opacity of his eyes, while Ishida's demeanor was at his most frozen and bloodless. Despite the magical geas that sealed his powers for the duration of the Perambulation, Byakuya felt the magical pressure of the room surge abruptly to oppressive proportions. Around the drawing room, however, the servants of the Aizen household evinced no change in their expression. A quick moment of reflection enlightened Byakuya to the reason. One of the Pillars had invoked a shield but had not extended it to his prince. Byakuya retained his customary public mien of still gravity, and he saw Urahara's eyelids flicker approvingly and Kurosaki spare a nod, and he realized that he had navigated yet another of the endless tests the Pillars had devised for his formation as future king. A Pillar never acted with merely a single purpose in mind. Now that Byakuya realized that he had faced a test, he could read the various intentions embedded in that single action. It was variously a test, an affirmation of confidence in his progress thus far, and a gesture of respect and a submission to his future reign. He had endured the smothering weight of magic without any perturbation in his bearing or demeanor. Yet, he would not have been subjected to the test if the Three Pillars had thought him unready. As for respect and submission, he was as yet too young to enter into their deliberations, but they had shown that they would not hide their actions from him who was future king, and this demonstration acknowledged his right to question them and judge them, if it were so necessary.
Suddenly, all his powers of cognition fled Byakuya's mind as the combined magical pressures of the Pillars met a besieging pressure that whipped them like the most unforgiving forces of nature. Left bereft of the ability to create his own shield, only pure will remained as Byakuya made his refusal to bend into the prop that held up his body. For a single, impossibly drawn-out moment, the magical storm seemed to rage into his mind, but he adamantly denied it a foothold, and he felt the combined powers of the Pillars arrive to cradle him with abrupt gentleness while the storm broke against their magics.
When normalcy returned, Byakuya found that the relative positions and postures of the occupants in the room had remained unchanged. However, he could still discern signs of strain in the Three Pillars-- in the deeper shadows under Urahara's eyes, in the slight droop of Kurosaki's grin and in the ruffled disorder of Ishida's hair. Beneath his own sumptuous garments, his underclothes were soaked and clammy. What had just occurred? The explanation that brushed against his mind was something that he scarcely dared contemplate.
Lady Aizen reappeared shortly after, once again supported by her son. Her fainting spell had perhaps been more severe than her protestations had allowed-- even her son Gin returned paler than he had left, while she herself wore a mask of expertly reapplied powder that failed to hid the faint tremour in the fingers clutching Gin's arm.
"I must apologize for our intrusion at a time when you are so obviously unwell." Once again, Urahara stepped forward and spoke for the royal visitors.
A lace-edged handkerchief fluttered weakly. "Too much honour, the royal visit." The lady of the house attempted to curtsey, but was held back by her son, his face a picture of pious care. "Mother, your health." He helped her to a chaise then turned to Urahara, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his lips lifting. "Lord Urahara, my turn now, isn't it?" He looked back at his mother, and his grin broadened. "Let's see now if I can win the heart of his Highness, shall we, Mother?" He seated himself on the stool, removed his shoe and wiggled his toes. "Highness, if you please." Byakuya's heart skipped a beat at the playfulness, the arrogance and the promise in the demand.
Holding his breath, he slid the shoe on. And forgot to breathe as the shoe reacted for the first time since the start of the Heir's Perambulation. It began with a pearly white glow, increasing in luminescence until pink stole in, then turned a deep red in the blink of an eye. The red lightened into vermilion, and then into gentle orange, and stayed at that milky colour for several minutes. Despite himself, Byakuya's eyes widened. Finally, when the knots in Byakuya's chest and stomach had twisted beyond their limit and an eternity of yearning had passed, the shoe returned to its original state. Surreptitiously drawing an easing breath, Byakuya pondered the events of the past few minutes. He had never heard that the Kuchiki shoe offered such a manifestation. Lifting his head, he met blood-red eyes that were for once fully opened, then looked past Gin at Urahara.
Urahara fanned himself rapidly. "My, my, an interesting reaction. I wonder what it could mean?"
Lady Aizen spoke. "Surely it is conclusive. The shoe did react."
Urahara shook his head regretfully, fan poised in mid-air. "It's the wrong reaction." Urahara's voice held the same note it had when he had announced that all previous candidates had failed the test. He turned to Byakuya, who kept his expression impassive despite his sinking heart. "Highness, I cannot offer any assurance of false hope that this might be a positive response. None of our histories document such a phenomenon." He looked at Gin. "I am afraid I must declare this result invalid, Master Gin."
Gin grinned wryly, then shrugged and slipped off the shoe, handing it back to Byakuya. "Pity." His voice was low and husky. "Thought I had a good chance. Might have been interesting, Highness." Byakuya pressed his lips firmly shut. It would not do to react to the provocative invitation in Gin's voice.
"Hold." It was Lady Aizen who spoke. "I fear I must respectfully question your decision, Lord Urahara."
"Oh?" Urahara's fan switched back and forth rapidly against his chest. "Surely you do not doubt the decision of the shoe, Lady Aizen?"
Lady Aizen inclined her head. "Hardly. But surely I am correct in surmising that this is the first time the shoe has reacted to anyone? It must have some significance, must it not? Should Gin not remain an aspirant to the hand of his Highness?" She smiled at Byakuya, an almost doting expression in her eyes. "I only request that you do not summarily dismiss his claim. Especially since so few households remain now that you are done with mine."
Urahara bowed. "Your point is well-taken, Lady Aizen. However, on my word as a Pillar, I must reiterate that it is the wrong reaction. I cannot say more, as all who have witnessed the Choosing are under magical oath never to reveal their knowledge, but I hope that you will not doubt the sworn word of a Pillar."
Kurosaki broke in at this point. "Urahara's word's good, Lady A. You can depend on it." He lifted an arm to scratch a ear, then desisted at Ishida's look. "Sorry to interrupt and all that, but I do have a question for you. I've been wondering where's young Abarai?"
There was a flurry among the servants. Puzzled whispers of "young Abarai?" could be heard around the room, but a quick glance from Gin silenced them. Urahara peered at his sheaf of papers. "Ah, yes, Lady Aizen. I see here that you have a ward, your step-son, the young Lord Abarai. There are forty-one males under the age of thirty registered as dependents in your household. I believe we have tested forty of them so far. Perhaps you will be so kind as to summon Lord Abarai? His Highness waits on his pleasure, after all."
Lady Aizen looked distressed. "He is away from home, young men and their fancies, you know." She waved a reluctant hand.
Urahara nodded gravely. "That is unfortunate indeed. One regrets that Lord Abarai felt it necessary to be away from home at such a time. Young men are so inconsiderate." Lady Aizen, her handkerchief to her lips, nodded frailly. Urahara smiled apologetically. "Then I am afraid we must throw ourselves on your hospitality, Lady Aizen. The law states that the royal party cannot leave a household until all of its members have been tested, and the Heir's Perambulation has always been conducted under the most stringent standards. If you will be so good as to furnish me with a description and a sample of Lord Abarai's clothing, we will send searchers out for him, both physically and magically. But in the meantime, we ourselves will be unable to move a step from your residence." He sighed. "Their Majesties will miss his Highness. They had so hoped to be reunited with him soon." He shot a commiserating glance at Byakuya, who ignored him in favour of shutting his eyes.
Lady Aizen and Gin shared a long look. Then Gin turned to the assembled servants. "Okay, kids, playtime's over. Back to work!" He flicked a few fingers in their disappointed faces. "We'll play later if you want, but there's nothing more for now! Bye-o!" The servants filed out according to their ranks, and the large room was soon emptied. Gin stood behind his mother, and mother and son faced their royal guests.
Lady Aizen sighed deeply and raised her handkerchief to her eyes. "It pains me to speak of such things in company, my lords, Highness, but Renji is nothing like his father. If he knew what Renji has become, my late husband would never rest in peace. There is no one in Rottenwood more unfit to be consort than that degenerate stepson of mine."
Urahara fanned himself lightly and looked sympathetic. "We are sorry for your tragedy, Lady Aizen. All of us here remember Lord Abarai and still hold him dear." He paused for a moment as Kurosaki and Ishido echoed his words. "Be that as it may, the position of consort is decided by the shoe, not by man, and no man of eligible age may decline the test, be he ever so high or so lowly. Though it must pain you, I must ask of you again, please send for Lord Abarai."
"You say no man may decline. Not even if he were married?" Gin asked, head angled coyly.
Urahara lowered his head to his papers as he replied, "Is Lord Abarai married? The court has received no record of his nuptials." He looked up. "To answer your question, Master Gin, no. The Kuchiki shoe has no regard for any marriage bond except the one itself creates." He indicated Lord Kurosaki. "Trice in the history of Rottenwood have the consorts been married, each time to a Kurosaki. Those marriages were dissolved, even though there were several offspring involved. They were never again permitted to acknowledge their natural parents. As much as has been given to the Kurosakis, much has been taken from them. So, as you see, marriage is no bar. But Lord Abarai isn't married, is he?"
"He is a debased and deformed creature who delights in his own filth. No person of sensibility would associate with him." Spoken in that gentle voice, Lady Aizen's severe indictment made the hairs on the back of Byakuya's neck stand up. A tiny curl of revulsion unfurled in his heart against the unknown Abarai, who was the subject of such intense debate.
"Nevertheless, Lady Aizen," Urahara's voice turned implacable, "however deformed, debased or deviant young Abarai may now be, please summon him and we will submit him to the judgment of the shoe." His eyes held Lady Aizen's for a long moment, before she sighed and signaled to Gin, who left the room. "On your head be it then, Lord Urahara." She turned again to Byakuya. "Highness, I must beg your pardon for subjecting you to the presence of such a repulsive creature."
Byakuya spoke, his voice a flat monotone. "We will abide by the dictates of the Heir's Perambulation, according to the will of my ancestors." Lady Aizen smiled in reply, performing a half-curtsey from her position on the chaise. "We may always trust in the good sense of your Highness." Byakuya merely bowed slightly. Such accolades were an intrinsic part of life at court, especially for one who was a future king.
Gin soon returned, leading a hunched figure who walked with slow, dragging steps. A limp mobcap covered its hair, but even its face could not be seen as it hung its head low. It was dressed in layers of grey tatters, overlaid with shiny streaks of grease and rough patches of dust held together by congealed fat. Byakuya heard a sharp gasp behind him, quickly smothered. It sounded like Kurosaki Isshin, but he did not look back to confirm his assumption. Instead, he watched as the figure lumbered towards him, and conceal his instant recoil and sudden dread. Even in the poorest of the tenements, his subjects had made him the best welcome they could, but this, this travesty of humanity, stood in mocking defiance of the palatial richness that surrounded them. He took a deep breath, then suppressed the sudden itch in his throat. The smell of years of unwash and rancid food filled his head, and he took light, shallow breathes to forestall the desire to retch.
Lady Aizen was holding up her handkerchief to her nostrils, a frown delicately arching her brows.
"He got violent when we tried to clean him up," said Gin laconically, shrugging in reply to the unspoken question. Byakuya thought that he heard Gin add, "The feisty beast," in a much softer, appreciative mutter. Byakuya shivered again.
"Get to it, Cindy. No point wasting our time. Put your best foot forward." Gin's bony hand gave the grey figure a push, and it continued stumbling forward to stand in front of Byakuya. Abruptly, it lifted a foot and thrust it in Byakuya's face. At close quarters, the stench was almost unbearable, the foot so encrusted in grime that no spot of skin could be seen, nor where skin ended and toenail began. Suppressing the bile that filled his mouth, Byakuya bowed from his half-kneeling position. He would not forget who he was, even if the creature before him had discarded the dignity of Lord Abarai. Carefully, he gripped the proffered heel gently, and slid the shoe carefully over the blackened foot. Then he looked up at Urahara, awaiting his signal to end this singularly unpleasant charade. Instead, he found the Pillar's expression unwontedly serious, his eyes intent on the scene before him. Then Urahara's hand clenched around his fan, and Byakuya's eyes returned to the shoe.
"No!" Every fibre of his being rebelled against the sight before him. To be bound to a man of so little pride that he could set aside his distinguished lineage and choose this slatternly posture? This dreg of humanity that could scarcely be called a man? Even as he watched, the dark blood red of the shoe pulsed, as if fighting his resistance. Encouraged, he thrust his will into the shoe, the way he would have forged his magical pressure if it had not been sealed. Sparks of ruby light were now moving with scintillating frequency across the room, colouring the faces and clothing of its occupants. Then the dark red lightened to a more fiery red as it coruscated with even greater ferocity. Byakuya thrust with greater force, locking horns with an unimaginable pressure, and after an eon of stasis had passed, felt something give way. Almost desperately, he lunged into the yielding space, but found that he had lost all purchase. Rather than diminishing, red light suddenly exploded from the shoe, momentarily blinding Byakuya. From a distance, he seemed to hear twin moans from Gin and the man before him. When he regained his sight, the shoe was the crystalline orange of a fire opal. Before his disbelieving eyes, jeweled colours succeeded each other in turn, the sunlit yellow of sapphire, the sea green of emerald, the night blue of sapphire, the dusky indigo of spinel, the starry violet of amethyst. Then the shoe returned to its original translucence, now embellished by the inescapable glitter of diamond.
Breathing heavily, Byakuya closed his eyes for a moment, bitterness and failure heavy on his tongue, then steeled himself to his duty. He slipped off the shoe, and without looking at its last wearer, placed it on the stand in front of Urahara. Then he took his place beside the pile of rags that was his destined consort.
"Textbook!" marveled Urahara. "The Kuchiki Shoe has selected our new prince consort." He held up the shoe and continued, 'As Urahara Kisuke, Pillar of Rottenwood, and with the witness of my fellow Pillars, Kurosaki Isshin and Ishida Ryuuken, I now declare the Heir's Perambulation concluded and welcome our new consort, Renji, Lord Abarai!" Then, he sank on one knee, followed closely by the two other Pillars. More reluctantly, Lady Aizen, helped to her feet by Gin, went into a deep curtsey.
Only Byakuya was near enough to notice the man beside him flinch at the name "Renji, Lord Abarai." "So," he thought grimly, "enough of the Abarai bloodline remains in him to understand the dishonour he has brought on his house in his present guise." Coldly, he glanced to his side, and was met by a soot-painted face and a glittering ruby glare so furious and so ferocious that his heart stopped for a moment. In the next moment, however, all he saw was the dirty grey of the slovenly mobcap and the closed-in posture. But Byakuya had been educated in the powers of observation, and he could not doubt the evidence of his eyes. For the first time, it occurred to him to wonder about this Abarai Renji.
When Byakuya emerged from his thoughts, Urahara was making his farewells to Lady Aizen. "I congratulate you most sincerely, Lady Aizen. A great honour for your house indeed. I am delighted that Lord Abarai's only son is not so deformed or debased after all." Byakuya's brow creased faintly. Years of association with Urahara had taught him the many nuances of the man's voice, and he thought he detected relief in Urahara's tone. Did Urahara feel relieved that Lord Abarai had been chosen? Beneath his eyelids, he shot quick glances at Kurosaki and Ishida. The former was grinning wildly. In less formal circumstances, he would have been pumping his fist in the air. Ishida was expressionless as usual, but Byakuya watched as he adjusted the front of his glasses, a habit he had when pleased and relaxed. Then Urahara beckoned to him, his sharp eyes following the direction of Byakuya's gaze. Pushing his questions to the back of his mind for the moment, Byakuya went forward to take his leave. After that, the formalities were rapidly concluded, the state of Lady Aizen's health not permitting any lingering, and the royal party made their way to the carriages, with the addition of the new consort.
Kurosaki, perhaps mindful of the unkempt state of their newest companion, bowed to Byakuya, saying, "If your Highness will excuse me, I'll ride with the consort in the second carriage and fill him in." When Byakuya nodded his acquiescence, he took the consort by the arm and led him off. As Byakuya turned to his own carriage, however, he heard Kurosaki say heartily to the silent man beside him, "I'm glad you made it, Renji. Ichigo has missed you fiercely!" Once again, the questions crowded his mind. What was the connection between Abarai Renji, the Kuchiki shoe and the Three Pillars? Was Byakuya to inherit a hollow throne strung up in an intricate web woven by the Three Pillars? And why were Gin's eyes now a startling blue-turquoise?
End of Part 1