disclaimer: i do not own bleach nor this story... it's copyright of kubo tite and feilyn... i'm just writing the same story from a different perspective... she took matsumoto, i'm taking byakuya. runs from other readers fans before they start throwing vegetables honest the next chapter's half done! i just got distracted tonight... sweatdrops i'm still trying to update sunday...
I couldn't pinpoint when exactly I started seeing her everywhere, only that suddenly, I did. I'd find myself returning to the office, knowing that there was nothing left there to complete and then my mind would gray over, blanking. A moment of non-thought perhaps. And then, suddenly, I'd be there, watching her. She would be strolling down the road, hips swaying like a high-priced courtesan, fit to be used and degraded discreetly by lesser nobles. She displayed even the right amount of skin for the job. I would find myself thinking, Why am I here? There was no purpose to this rambling. To this viewing of her displaying assets to the general public. It bordered on voyeurism.
I hold authority, I hold position, I hold nobility within this infrastructure. I cannot afford, for the sake of my family and myself to continue to flaunt that responsibility. Because of who I am and the captaincy I hold, I am held in an esteem above the rest. I am not meant to interact with those beneath me and those who are beneath cannot ever reach the pinnacle that I have attained.
She is of those who are beneath me.
The situation is crystal clear.
So why do I have this fixation? Why does my body disobey the clear constructs of my mind and follow her?
I don't know what I expect to find or what I expect to see, but surely there is nothing that one such as she can provide to the nobility. And I am the nobility.
And yet, despite everything thing I am, despite all the power I wield, I still cannot seem to accomplish that which I desire most. I cannot hold the love of Hisana to cherish. I cannot even hold Hisana. I could not protect my belief in the absolutism of the nobility. Nor could I see past that same absolutism to save the only living family I carry any affection for. Rukia.
During that same ryoka incident, this mere vice-captain was able to successfully assist her captain in protecting another vice-captain. She was able to confront a traitor that she had held as friend, some believed lover. Even now, her division collapsing around her, she took charge, stopped drinking and actually scrambled to complete the work her taichou was ignoring.
The connection was there. It was obvious. And yet I still refused to make it. I did not believe it. Yet I could not disbelieve it, with the evidence so clear in front of me to counter it. I'm still watching. What I was waiting for even I don't know.
I have heard talk amongst lower division members when no one else thought I was there to listen. I heard snatches even while I was climbing through ranks to obtain my captain's cloak.
It was called The Stage. Every male who ever made shinigami was said to pass through it. They call it a "rite." I call it "a stage of lustful abandon toward a woman who will never look twice in your direction." The woman had standards after all. Despite her uncouth attitude and appearance, she did not merely "sleep with anybody," as the phrase might transpire.
During all the time I spent observing her, not once had I seen anything remotely resembling a tryst, though truthfully, it was probably because she was far too busy rescuing her division. This did not mean however, that I had in any way disregarded her previous drunken nature.
To conclude my earlier summary, it was clear that amongst the male members of shinigami, it was viewed as practically a rite of passage to "fall in love" with Matsumoto Rangiku.
I knew for a fact that such a thing could not be happening to me. It could never happen to me. After all, there was nothing that could come of it, my being a noble and her being-not. Not only that but such a stage did not really exist. The way I viewed it, this Stage acted only as an outlet for other males to express appreciation of a beautiful body while realizing that they themselves could never have it.
They were disgusting.
I do not debase myself in such a manner as these vermin do, pretending to love. Despite my outward expression of stoicism, I do understand emotions. I do not feel this lust that others have. On the contrary, I find her body, though beautiful, to be uncivilized. She exerts no self-control in its appearance, only allows to be displayed in licentious ways to the crowd. She practically begs for the lustful attention she receives. Yet she doesn't embrace the passes she is subjected to. She puts her work first.
There were several inconveniences to being Kuchiki Byakuya. One being that my nature is such that it refused to be subjected to outside scrutiny and advice. Certainly I could venture forth to my vice-captain and confide a personal question. However, if I were to do so, I could easily believe that he would initially stare at me blankly and then most probably slide to the floor, utterly unconscious. Nor did I inspire confidences from others. To a certain degree, this was my preferred state of being. I definitely did not enjoy enduring the useless prattling of petty problems. And whatever considerations that might arise from me would certainly be none of their concern. Still, as a result, there was no one from whom I could request or seek advice, which, at this time, would have been relatively advantageous.
I found myself in a situation I never would have anticipated. A Kuchiki in desperate need of not only advice, but a method of escape for the rapidly descending quagmire. And in filtering through the options, the list was appallingly short. I could not, in any way, ever approach a member of my division. That was information they had no business being privy to, nor would they regard it in the proper light. I could not question any member of the noble family as I already knew their response. It was the one I was continuously reminding myself. Who did that even leave?
At the moment there were none to consider. At such times the only real thing to do was to confide in those who could no longer reveal what had been whispered. I went to visit Renji's grave.
xXx
The wind was gusting through nearby branches when I arrived late in the afternoon, work completed. I stared down at his gravestone, uncertain how, where or even if to begin.
"Renji." The word seemed to float on the wind, an airy addition to a deathly silence.
I visited Renji's grave only rarely, in truth. It was awkward, conversing with the dead when a wall of guilt stood between us. Words that had never been said, and questions left unanswered.
A mistake to come here. I had nothing left to say to this boy.
A boy who saved my life.
A boy with enough strength and power to stop someone I couldn't. Someone I didn't.
It was almost harder to turn away then it was to say nothing to his empty grave.
The wind continued to blow.
xXx
It was interesting to reflect on, how many graves there were now for me to visit. How many we had lost, especially in the war. Must I continue to count the losses? I was only lucky that Rukia was not among their number. That a ryoka would be willing to make a sacrifice I was unable to, to risk when I was too conflicted to make a move. Yet they were continuing to die. It was clear that the tenth division captain would reach a breaking point soon, for better or worse. Would we lose another?
I knelt to Hisana's shrine, whispering my thoughts to her as I had done once before, late at night. I could still feel it, even now, the love I felt for her. I had thought she felt the same, that maybe if she could have reached further down, we might have found a special joy together. Something that would have brought meaning to my purposeless existence. A reason other than continuing a noble lineage or becoming the most powerful figure within the Seireitei, neither of which meant anything to me, except in terms of my family. But even to the end, all she held for me was a deep gratitude and an empathy so deep she could never leave my side. Almost a guilt for the ways in which I carefully protected her.
"Hisana."
The silence of the night was my only answer. But, it was the only one I had expected to receive.
"I know the mistakes I've made. I know what I subjected you to. I know, ultimately, that it was that which led to your death. How can I justify repeating the past?"
Something was happening here. I couldn't quite name it, but there was a definite feeling on the air.
"What kind of person is she? You always held yourself with grace. You always treated others with respect. You had a strength that denied others when they rejected you. When I knew you, met you, loved you, you were always kind. It didn't matter who, when, or where, you always had time for them. It didn't even matter how they treated you. You could have been born of the nobility, had no training, and excelled at it in ways the elders could not compare. But you still could not outlast them.
'But what can I admire about this loudmouthed, exhibitionistic beauty? The center of attention, longed for, lusted after and disgustingly visible to the general public?"
I gazed longingly at her beloved photograph, wishing, yet again, that I had only had to battle my family just a single time.
Nearly instantaneously, it was as if I could hear her voice in my head, answering my question with a statement of her own. One I denied most vehemently.
"I am not going through The Stage!"
It was the truth. I did not feel that lecherous, odious, appalling, abysmal urge to copulate with the blonde tenth division vice-captain. I didn't feel that attraction I knew was the signature emotion linked to that asinine tradition.
"I am not in denial," I responded to her silent remonstrance.
I was positive a vein could be seen to be popping out on my forehead as I reacted to her most recent answer.
"Do not shower me with platitudes."
I stood, an obvious dismissal and strode away, cloak swirling.
I knew now that I was indeed in serious trouble. One didn't have conversations with one's dead wife without realizing action needed to be taken.
I twitched as I heard movement in a hallway not too far away. No one could know of my ridiculous foray from reality.
No seriously.
hisana told him that admission of the problem is the first step to the solution... or something. laughs