Disclaimer: The characters in this story are all owned by Kubo Tite. I make no profit of writing this.
A/N: Strange. ByaRen is my favourite Bleach pairing yet I have not written any stories about it.
This must be fixed at once!
So, yeah. That is basically a backstory for this fic. There will be no lemons, and even the romance has to be looked for most of the time. How sad.
But I actually had something to say: This thing moves in to time lines, don't get confused. I'll try to fit the 'past' parts in separate chapters, and include the word in the chapter title.
But now, prologue.
The room was dimly lit, a mere excuse of a light lingered from between the closed blinds. Only sound that a human ear could catch in that room was the fast paced tapping of a keyboard.
He was writing.
The light disappeared among with the setting sun, and returned as it rose again from the East. The man was still on his place, typing. On his face was a serious, concentrated expression, one that warned anyone from disturbing him.
Unlike so many other people, he didn't hunch over the table to be closer what he was writing. His posture was unnaturally straight. Thinking about it, the whole man seemed somehow unnatural, especially in that room. The dust and spiderwebs had taken over what had probably once been a very neat and clean space. They climbed over the furniture, making the expensive silk materials look like relics from the past. It was like the room itself was the past, and the man was strange visitor from the future, a pale ghost who had no words to say but everything to write.
Kuchiki Byakuya had never been a man of many words. He was a silent presence that had no use for colourful expressions and emotions. He watched, but never told anyone what he truly saw, what he truly thought.
So many important things left unsaid. Now, when he had found the words it was too late to use them. She wouldn't hear the anymore.
For him it didn't matter. He needed to say those words, for himself if no one else. If the words weren't said, they would disappear. He would forget them. He would question himself, wonder if those words were mere dreams. If those happy days were just a illusions created by his lonely mind.
He had been silent for so long. Even after she had disappeared from his life, he hadn't found the right words. He had been there, at the funeral, and stared at her grave. There were no words for such a deep feeling of loss, so he had thought. The words would mock his sorrow, make it bare and vulnerable. He protected his grief just like he protected his pride, with strict set of rules.
So he said nothing for the longest time. The silence was unlike anything he had experienced before. It was high like a mountain and deep as an ocean.
In some point, he came to realise that he was the one who was mocking. He was mocking the loss of his most important person by staying silent. He was making the words disappear in to the silence, the words that his beloved wife deserved. The words of love and appreciation he hadn't had courage and character to say when she was still alive.
And if hey would disappear without a trance, how could Byakuya be sure they ever even existed?
He would find words for every one of those feelings. If there wasn't one, he would invent it. Not a single word would go unsaid any longer. Even if it would take his whole life, he would achieve his goal.
It might be the last thing he would do in this life.
Byakuya willed those thoughts away. He had no time to waste thinking about what would become after.
Maybe she would look at him from above, from the clouds. Maybe she would see all the things he wrote and appreciate the gesture, if nothing more. Maybe she would smile.
The silent tapping continued. He was writing.