Abarai Renji could sleep anywhere.
In times past, Byakuya had found him leaning against a wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He'd found him up in a tree, nestled into a broad fork, head comfortably pillowed against the trunk. Caves, sand dunes and hillsides where they'd shared camps came to the Sixth Division's captain's mind. Wherever tiredness overtook him, Renji slept, looking oddly relaxed and comfortable even though a whisper of sound or a breath of passing Reiatsu would find him instantly alert and awake.
It wasn't how he slept here, though. In this one place, the redhead was dead to the world, oblivious to sounds, uncaring of the sun rising, unaware of the early morning breeze ruffling strands of his hair and scattering pink petals across his brow.
Byakuya shifted into a more comfortable position against the trunk of the cherry tree and adjusted Renji's head in his lap, patiently guarding the other's sleep.