Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
Summary: What if the courtesan was not the first to fall? One night is all it takes. And in Fate's hands a seed takes root. What then will become of a kindhearted but independent woman, and a noble who now finds himself wanting more than paid favors? A deviation to Fulfillment.
Some things to know:
*Told in short- drabble-like chapters.
*This is a stand-alone story- not a continuation of Fulfillment but an adaptation- a 'what if' if you will.
*The same characters will be present, and personality-wise much the same- though ages may differ. Some themes may remain the same (though no revenge-crazed noble in the end- I promise).
*It's paced a bit slowly in the first few chapters so it might be hard to see the central point and how this version differs.
*This is an introductory chapter so it will be longer than others, but I'm sure some will end up being somewhat long like this.
A Kiss for Shelter
Water
Each footstep- light and airy as it was- still kicked up dust and the masses ebbed like waves, parting for his noble form.
They could not veil their curiosity despite how they kept their heads lowered as he passed, his grey gaze never lingering, staring far beyond anything they might fathom. They wondered what business he had here- why within the last year he had been spotted in one district or another only to appear in the Seventy-Sixth and… linger…
Strange.
He ignored their stares.
Such wanderlust was normally beyond him. He patrolled his estate regularly, the restless nobleman who paced beneath the moonlight, but to venture beyond his walls…
Yet these streets were familiar in a sense. His most precious commodities had come from these very streets, nurtured by their own will and rendered gentle somehow despite the harsh conditions.
He was searching yet again, he could feel that unmistakable pull, yet what could he possibly need- much less want?
What could a prince find in these dirty districts beyond the walls of structured society?
Suddenly a jar of water broke at his feet, splashing wetness onto his sandals. Shocked he looked up- only to see the clumsy culprit darting away. His eyes narrowed and he pursued- citizens scurrying out of his path with wary eyes.
It was a woman. Her yukata was cream colored, plain, but clean and unwrinkled. She wore a simple scarf, tied at the top of her head, holding up as well as partially concealing her hair.
He realized she was approaching a brawl that he had not taken note of earlier. It would seem a group of young souls had cornered some poor individual who had crossed them.
He listened closely and could hear the taunts in the air now.
"Dumb shit! Stay outta our territory!"
"Bastard- you should know better than to run your messages through our district without paying your dues!"
"Some messenger- he can't even hear what the fuck's going on!"
He recognized the sound of a fist hitting flesh. A grunt of pain followed and there was a gap in the circle revealing a boy brought to one knee by the blow.
The noble knew the child.
Green eyes glared at the assailant in anger, blood trickling from a split lip. The mob surged, obscuring Byakuya's view for a moment and again he heard the telltale sounds of a beating being doled out.
His jaw clenched in indignation, but he did not move to stop the fight.
One had to have thick skin to survive these streets and he would be doing the boy no favors by going to his rescue. Having a shinigami intervene for him would only cause greater scorn to fall on the boy and possibly draw unwanted attention.
Yet while his flinched, threatening to become fists, wavering between common sense about street law and his own views on justice, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
As he watched, the woman he had been trailing stepped right into the scuffle and spoke, "That is enough!"
Many of the boys though younger than her matched her or cleared her in height.
The noble knew that many of the gangs of children that roamed the streets were nothing to scoff at. Hardened by life in the districts they knew how to fight and scavenge and felt little pity for anyone outside their circle.
He watched in surprise as she managed to "shoo" the rough-and-tumble little gang away after speaking a few words. She wasn't exactly an awe inspiring presence, given her stature, but she certainly knew how to make her singular confidence work for her.
The gang grudgingly dispersed, grumbling and casting threatening glances at the now standing boy over their shoulders.
With a sigh the woman finally turned to the boy, who had taken his share of punches and was wiping at his bloody mouth with his sleeve.
She shook her head and sank down in front of him, balancing on the balls of her feet as she took the partial tignon from her head, letting thick dark waves tumble down her back. Byakuya's eyes narrowed slightly.
When she raised the cloth to his face, the boy flinched away stubbornly, but she simply eyed him patiently. After a moment she tried again and this time while the dirty urchin's scowl deepened he did not pull away.
After clearing some of the dust and blood from his face, she settled a firm look upon him.
She mouthed the words even as her delicate hands flowed in an even rhythm in front of her to communicate with the deaf child.
The boy was sullen and simply crossed his arms over his chest, giving her his profile as she scolded him.
But she took his chin forcing him to look at her, giving him a kind, yet pointed look of concern.
His shoulders drooped in surrender and in response the corners of her mouth drew upward in a beautiful expression of warmth.
Byakuya had grown utterly still- curiosity sparked by the scene.
The girl was too young to be the boy's mother. They did not look to be siblings. Indeed, the girl was out of place in a respect. From what he could see her features and complexion marked her as one of perhaps southern origin. And while her clothes were not elaborate, she was still too well dressed to be an ordinary resident of Inuzuri.
This district of scavengers and thieves was the severest of the civilian sectors. It was not a place for the afterlife's constructed families, much less a lone young woman with no weapon, but her bold, accented voice.
But questioning her existence here was much like questioning his own reasoning behind this impromptu wandering. Years ago- decades perhaps he had had a true purpose in walking these streets- a search- a promise. And years before even that it had been to trail one who had caught his eye. He didn't wish to compare this venture with that. Yet as she rose to walk away with the boy tucked under her arm he found himself watching the two as he paced evenly, a head taller than most of the crowd.
He had only seen her in profile, yet… A glimmer of recognition had assaulted him upon seeing the abundant hair, but it was here and gone.
And as the two disappeared from his sights, Byakuya Kuchiki turned toward home.
AN: Special thanks (needed the push) to tfwk22- I've had this in my pocket for a while (like since last year)- chomping at the bit to release it! And of course thanks to all that offered me love for Fulfillment. Hope you like this re-imagining!