There are NO OC's in this story, however, certain characters are given more prominence here than in the series, and could be considered OC. Although the influence of these characters is seen in the plot, they are not actually written for in "Over There the Water is Bitter" except during dream/memory sequences. AGAIN, all characters ARE from the series. I stress this because there are some parts where a reader might think they are dealing with an OC, but I assure you it is not.

Primary couples for this section: Byakuya and Hisana.

Primary location: The Kuchiki Palace and Rukon District: Hanging Dog.

"Those entrusted with the power nobility affords have a heavy responsibility to shoulder. Byakuya Kuchiki could attest to that." (BLEACH Yasutora Sado Ep. 176)

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Hisana peered around the screen; this was the third night in a row she had followed Byakuya from their room. Almost every night since she had become his wife some months ago, she had found herself awoken by his strange and sudden departures. He moved like a ghost, silent and barely breathing as he drifted from the room. For the nights up until now, Hisana has not been inclined to investigate this behavior further, as Byakuya would return in only a few minutes and return to his sleep peacefully.

But in the past week, his excursions had extended their length to more than two hours at a time.

That had peaked Hisana's interest. What had changed? She wondered. Byakuya had hinted at nothing, he had not changed at all, at least that she could see. And none of the other Kuchiki's offered any explanation; she had tried to subtly inquire if this week was nearing an anniversary of some kind, or if there had been some change within the Gotei 13. But she had learned nothing that would explain her husband's increasingly abnormal habit.

So, she had decided on the only course of action that she could foresee leading to a reasonable answer.

Following Byakuya when he left the room.

Hisana had learned early on in her days with Byakuya that he was not given to answer questions about his personal behavior, about his history, or about his feelings in general. She knew he would not confess to her willingly what it was that kept driving him from his bed, and she lived long enough in the Hanging Dog to be quite capable of handling an investigation on her own.

Life there in the Rukon had toughened Hisana, but even so, on the first night, she had become so nervous that Byakuya would turn and discover her, griped with an apprehension she didn't fully understand, that she had merely followed his to the doorway and watched from there as he moved, apparition like, across the deck and onto the stone pathway that led to the southernmost garden of the Kuchiki manor.

Instantly then, she had known something sinister was in the works. The first day she had come to the manor, Byakuya had made it clear to her that she was never meant to venture into that part of the garden. When she had tried to make him further his explanation, he had added something vague and insecure about the southern garden being where the family elders took their peace and that they would not approve of her, a former commoner defiling that place with her footsteps. But even back then, when she was still so stunned into awe over her fortune to have his attention, her mind had told her his words were nothing near the truth she wished for, and that it was a secret of his, not the peace of the elders, that was to be disturbed if she ventured into the place he guarded.

The second night Hisana's bravery returned, and her courageous heart, now tormented by the thought of a secret, beckoned her to go further into the place that loomed in her mind. This night, she watched again as Byakuya swept down and through the tall hedges that blocked the garden from the view of the rest of the manor. This night however, she followed with footsteps light and lithe on the soft grass. She had stayed hidden behind those hedges, still fearful to take foot into the garden she had been forbidden to enter, as if Byakuya would somehow sense her intrusion beyond this wall of solitude.

But from where she had stood she saw all she could. She watched as her husband moved with slow, drawling steps down the path and to a stone lantern. Carefully tended and loving sculpted and beautiful even when it was dark. White stone with rectangular filters and etched flowers and vines that crisscrossed its surface like a tapestry. Even from where she had watched, Hisana could see the care that the lantern had been made with, and a thought flickered in her mind that the lamp had been made by Byakuya, as the cuts that made each detail held the delicacy of craft that he was prone too.

She had watched as Byakuya stood near the lantern, and opened its hinged door. He pulled from it what Hisana saw was a small glass jar and he seemed to start some strange dance, holding the jar open in his hand; he moved it around in the air. It was in her confusion that then Hisana saw what her nervous glances had not noticed before. All around Byakuya, and around the lantern, tiny beacons of light flickered in and out of existence. Hisana had never seen so many fireflies in one place, in the Hanging Dog, she had spotted them on occasion; one or two dancing together in the dark of night, but here there had to be a thousand strong glittering among the shrubbery. Byakuya caught several in the jar and carefully replaced the lid. The fireflies glowed strongly in the glass and Byakuya placed the beaker back into the lantern, which now blinked and shone with an eerie orange light, as though a fire had been lit inside it. In a way, Hisana supposed, a fire had.

Hisana had thought then that Byakuya would turn to leave, and prepared herself to make a dash back to the room and settle in before he returned, but Byakuya did not move. Instead he had stood, peering down at the lantern, until his legs gave way to his sadness and he crumpled to his knees, and Hisana had been forced to watch him cry. The sight of this had disturbed Hisana so deeply that she had ran back to the room and slammed the door shut as to keep the vision from haunting her, but the screen did not remove the terror she felt. Never had she known Byakuya to cry over anything. She had seen him torn apart by his elders, by his other family members disgraced for his actions; she had seen him through the anniversary of his own father's death and yet never had any tear left that mans cold gray eyes, in sorrow or in joy. And she feared that which would make those tears fall. Whatever secret that lantern hid in its glow was something more dark and deep then any wound she could have ever imagined.

Now it was the third night, and Hisana's fear had steeled itself into solid, unyielding curiosity. She watched like a mouse as Byakuya swept past the hedges, and as his back disappeared into the shadows, she followed on creeping toes, no longer that mouse but the cat that stalked it. Again she leaned around the edge of the hedge, watching with all attentiveness as Byakuya ritualistically came to stand by the dark lantern. Again he pulled out the glass container and caught a handful of the roaming fireflies inside its gullet and repositioned the jar to light the cold lamp with restless flames.

And again as the fire danced its ghostly glow, Byakuya came to his knees before its shine and his shoulders heaved with heavy sadness. From where she stood Hisana could hear the shortened breaths that tumbled from his lips as he let himself relieve the sorrow clenched inside him. She imagined it like a ball of wire, barbed and twisted and dug into every inch of his heart and mind like mines planted in a battlefield. Unimaginable, the feeling was. But this time, Hisana fought against her fear of that feeling, and remained to watch Byakuya's mourning.

As time wore on, Hisana noticed a light against the midnight horizon and thought to abandon Byakuya for the comfort of their room until he returned, but even as she imagined the thought, Byakuya stood up, still shaking and trembling, his whole body a tremor. Hisana began to back away, her fleeting steps leading her back to the room she had been wishing to retreat to, but those steps were halted as Byakuya did not turn to leave the garden, and instead moved past the lantern, gliding further down the stone pathway and behind the flowering bushes that continued the garden to the wall of the estate. He went clearing his face of the tracks his tears had left on his cheeks. Hisana stood numbly, squinting after her husband in confusion. But as he indeed disappeared into the depths of the tangled foliage, a new and burning desire locked Hisana in a duel with her own conscience. The idea that dulled her common sense was the curiosity to go and look into that cold stone lantern, to watch the writhing flames as they grew from the backs of the crawling things that sparked them. Hisana did not understand her want to see this. She knew what fireflies looked like, she knew how they glowed, and yet somehow, she imagined these examples of their species would somehow shine with more majesty then she had known in the past.

Against all judgment, Hisana crept forward, listening with each step for the sound that harkened Byakuya's returned to the lantern's side. But none came and she continued toward that same objective, her kimono caught on the branches of the shrubs she passed, as though something was trying to pull her back, keep her away from the hidden flame. But she ignored the tangling grasp of the leaves as they sought to protect her and Hisana did not regret her choice until she reached the lantern itself. Now she was forced to stare down at the cold, stoic thing, and it mocked her ignorance. Hisana felt rage growing in her now, a budding flower that had just pierced the surface of its life's soil. Before now, she had not recognized the emotion, now it flared inside her, bursting into bloom as the carved vines grinned at her with taunting smiles. Hisana had to understand, it was not just curiosity that moved her hand now, it was need. The fear of what had broken Byakuya's strong and impenetrable wall now became anger, and she wished to, above all, remove that thing from his mind and heart as well as hers. She knew that the secret must lay with the flame and so she leaned down to open the lantern's looming door.

Hisana blinked at the light, practically blinding, that spilled towards her through the filter of the stone, and she saw dancing there at least ten lightning bugs who wove around their enclosure like sparklers in the hands of children. For a minute or two it was all she could do to watch their hypnotic progressions, their timely waltzes around their clear cage. Finally through, her eyes began to truly see again and she saw what the light from their little abdomens alit with its warm, tender shine.

It was a painting, from some years ago, she was sure, as the edges of the paper were tattered, weatherworn and dimming, but the image upon it was still strong, dark lines that made a sight that took Hisana's growing anger and doubled it. It was an effigy of a girl, a child, with long, flowing hair as scarlet as a rose. Her face was youthful and full with innocence was flush with prettiness, her eyes were crystal blue, and her lips were pink and her cheeks were rosy. The more Hisana looked at the girls' expression, the more Hisana came to understand her beauty, each time her eyes circled the child's face another feature struck Hisana with its perfection. Surely this girl had no equal in this world or the previous.

Now the rage had withered into soot and settled in Hisana's gut, the fertilizer for the weed of jealousy and envy to ravage. This girl was but a child in her eyes, and yet, what about this child, this infant would cause Byakuya, the stoic, unfeeling man he was, such pain and suffering to see him cry at her shrine every night. Hisana's speculations grew and grew, fueled by the new vine of envy. A daughter? She thought vaguely, the wheels in her mind and soul tumbling and turning like marbles down a flight of stairs, had Byakuya had a wife before her? And had that wife borne him a daughter, whose death or disappearance haunted him now? If this was so where now was the wife? Taken as well, in the same way or different as their daughter? Perhaps Byakuya could not see the child, although she may well be alive, as maybe the mother of her was not his wife at all, but a forbidden mistress. These thoughts settled into bloom on the stem of jealousy and refused to close; their petals stiffened into thorns and jabbed against Hisana's attempts to restrain them. She thought of other possibilities, a friend, a sister, a lover, it didn't matter which path was the truth. Each thought and each theory brought more doubt, more anger, more envy and jealousy.

A rustle made the blossoms in her gut quake into a tree of fear that rooted in her throat. Hisana had been so immersed in her questioning that she had forgotten she still shared this hidden flame with Byakuya, and quickly and quietly she shut the door of the lantern again and fled to the hedges to watch as her husband reappeared from within the garden. If he noticed any disturbance she had caused, he took no notice she could see and returned to the side of the stone lamp, his hands wander over its surface with a tender way.

Hisana had seen enough, creeping things feinted around her minds jagged edges and as she slipped away, like a mouse to its den, as the weeds of curiosity began to eat away at her like a cat upon that rodent's corpse.

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The next morning and Hisana had left their room with barely a word to Byakuya, despite his attempts to woo her into a conversation. It was the fact he acted normal that made Hisana's mind whirl with even more questions and confusion. He hid this terrible thing, whatever it was, he hid it away inside himself until it ate through to his core, and yet on the surface, he was unchanging, unyielding. A stone in the path of a river, and yet, Hisana also knew even a river would eventually tear down a stone.

As the two parted fates, Hisana managed a kiss and a sweet goodbye to Byakuya as he went off to perform whatever duty instructed him to that day. Hisana normally would have spent her days reading and lounging, as was the role of a wife of a nobleman like Byakuya. But this day Hisana's schemes were to take her elsewhere.

Despite how deep this secret was rooted in Byakuya's history, Hisana knew there was at least one man in all the Soul Society who would know exactly what the hidden flame represented. And so she sought out Ginrei Kuchiki.

Ginrei was soon to be gone from this world, not in death, no sorrow here; he was to join the elite, the grandest, as a member of Squad Zero, the Royal Guard itself. He had so proved his strength, his kindness, and his wisdom and earned his place there, on high with the Spirit King himself. Hisana found herself bitterly glad she had decided to investigate the flame now, as with Ginrei gone, she was sure all chance of uncovering this knowledge would have flitted away. Yes, she had considered simply asking Byakuya about the lantern, but each time she thought of the words she would be persuaded to use, her mind brought her the image of Byakuya sobbing, and that reminded her that no words she could ever say would persuade him to give her the answers her envy desired. Never would he share feelings that deep.

Hisana found Ginrei in the easternmost garden; Hisana knew it was his favorite place to take his tea in the early morning breeze. She felt lucky that Ginrei had taken so sweetly to her, he treated her as a daughter, truly, and she felt comfortable to speak to him, despite his reputation and his status. Ginrei was an elder man, with long silver hair and withering features, but his eyes remained kind even in his age, and the former handsomeness of his visage remained like a veil, unseen but seen by those who knew him well enough to look past the gaunting shadows. Every time Hisana gazed at him, she knew it was vain, but she could not help but wonder and calculate if with time, Byakuya too would turn as grim as his grandfather, and truthfully she prayed against it.

Hisana saw Ginrei see her, even the softest footfalls could not break through his senses undetected. He turned his head at a tilt to look over his shoulder as she approached, and she offered him her sweetest smile.

Ginrei knelt on the deck facing the gardens, here in this quarter; the centerpiece was a koi pond, filled with great speckled fish that lapped at the surface with wide gaping mouths and glassy eyes. A steaming cup of tea lay beside Ginrei on the planks, and as Hisana came to sit beside him, he took a long, savory sip.

"Good morning, Ginrei-sama." She offered the air as she gazed out at the pond, a dragonfly skimmed along the surface of the water, startling a smaller fish to seek refuge in the shade of the reeds.

"Good morning, Hisana-san." Ginrei responded, "Did you come to join me for tea? I rarely see you this early unless you are deliberately coming to find me."

"…Yes. I did want to see you." Hisana lowered her gaze to her hands, clenched in her lap, "But I don't want any tea."

Ginrei raised an eyebrow at her over the green rim of his cup, "Something serious is troubling you. Your eyes are full of concern."

Hisana closed those eyes, as though to keep that concern from escaping along with her conviction, "It's about Byakuya, Ginrei-sama."

Ginrei chuckled, his withered hand placing his cup beside him again, "Byakuya does not need your concern, Hisana-san."

"I'm not so sure." Hisana retorted, angrier then she meant; that was how it always was. Everyone assumed Byakuya was strong, independent, that no one, especially not someone like Hisana, could ever hope to help him through any trial, because his trials were solved by his own hand before they had even grown into worry. Ginrei's eyes skimmed over her, and Hisana suddenly felt a lot like the fish in the pond, startled by the dragonfly. She drew her own eyes to the garden again, seeking some solace there. But she knew Ginrei had caught onto her, his eyes were growing with suspicions, and she could almost feel him calculating.

"Is there anything about Byakuya I should know, Ginrei-sama? About his past." Hisana's words were no longer her own, she was numb to them now; the weed in her gut had wrapped around her voice and spent it past her lips.

Ginrei was silent for a moment; Hisana saw his thoughts winding through his eyes out of the corner of her gaze.

"What brought about that question, Hisana?" he responded carefully, and the careful tone made Hisana's eyes narrow with conviction. She knew he would know, there was no doubt now.

But the weed had coiled back into her gut, and taken her voice with it, she found it impossible to speak what she wished too, and the image of Byakuya, sobbing, seemed to hover in front of her eyes, whether she closed or opened them, the image was still there, a haze.

Hisana caught Ginrei's eye again, they were so like Byakuya's, hard and ashy, and rarely did they shine. But now, with the secret that they locked away, they glowed as brightly as the flame in its lantern.

"…The southern garden," the moment her words pierced the air, Ginrei looked away as though they caused him physical pain, closing his eyes and grimacing as though she had stabbed him through, "Byakuya told me that I shouldn't go there because it is the garden where the elders relax, and they wouldn't welcome my interruption."

Ginrei snorted with dark amusement, "The elders never set foot in that garden. They know better than that."

Hisana studied the old man's profile, searching for a clue, searching for any hint that would lead the weed to give her the next question that would led her to the discovery.

"That's because its Byakuya's garden isn't it?" She said suddenly, and Ginrei's gaze danced to her, although he refused to meet her eyes now. "He's the one it's a sanctuary for, not the elders."

Ginrei nodded, his fingers coyly traveled along the edge of his tea cup, but he abandoned the drink with a sigh and wringed his hands in his lap. "Although even he rarely ventures there anymore, for him it is more a prison then a sanctuary."

The weed in Hisana's gut stirred, it saw an opening, drawn like some carnivorous beast to the scent of blood, the envious weed spurred her throat into a new rattle of words, "If he so rarely ventures there, then why for the past week has he left to cry over the shrine there?"

The pained expression had returned to Ginrei's eyes, and he leaned his head back, rolling his shoulders as if they were suddenly stiff, "You should ask Byakuya these questions." He said, his voice was gentle, it always was, but his words were firm and solid, and Hisana shrunk at the hollow sound they formed. "Only he can answer you, it is not my place to speak of these things to anyone."

Hisana had steeled herself against this; she knew Ginrei would divert the truth. He was loyal first and foremost to his grandson, and no secret between the two would Ginrei ever share without a struggle.

"But whose picture is it?"

Ginrei turned to her in surprise, his solid guard dropped into true astonishment.

"The girl whose picture is in the lantern? And why does he light it with fireflies?" Hisana restrained the thousand more questions that threatened to tumble from her tongue, the stream held back, she steadied her gaze into Ginrei's, her eyes probing for answers he had not yet conceded to give her.

But suddenly, Ginrei smiled, his face, the mask the same thinness as Deaths, stretched into a kind expression that made the hollow light of his eyes seem out of place and strange, "You must ask Byakuya. As it is I no longer remember."

Hisana watched, stunned into silence, the weed curling up dejectedly in her belly, as Ginrei stood up from the plank and whisked away. Hisana was left alone, to watch as the steam began to fade from the tea cup he had left behind.

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Hisana had resolved a new solution to her questions; it was far too late to merely forget of course, the torment of the weed in her gut pricked at her every time she moved.

Byakuya returned to their quarter of the Kuchiki palace in the late afternoon, and Hisana's plan to interrogate him over their dinner seemed to be unfurling faster every second. He had returned in a better mood than usual, his eyes even retained a sparkle or two in their depths as he had relied his days' working to Hisana. Truthfully, she barely heard or understood his words, there was something about the Head-Captain of the Gotei 13 giving him the due credit for some of Squad 6's recent endeavors. It was not even the thought of the flame and the weed that kept her from focusing, but that mysteriously elusive glitter in his eyes. She had always speculated that it was contentness that caused that glimmer.

As soon as they sat down to dine, the weed had returned to her gut and extended itself into her throat, digging in with roots sharps as knives, bearing down anticipation until Hisana couldn't help but fidget with the strain of knowing the questions she would have to ask. She wished now that the weed would leave for the time. She knew, to ask these questions would destroy the glitter of joy Byakuya's eyes shone with, something she could not bring herself to do. But in a moment, that reluctance dissipated into cold determination. Byakuya's eyes had evaporated that glitter themselves, as in the fading light of evening, he had turned his gaze out the doorway to the southern horizon, and his expression instantly slackened into a stoic mask.

"Who is she?"

Byakuya turned in surprise to Hisana, his brow furrowed with confusion as he sought what she spoke of in her eyes. Hisana held that gaze with a steadfastly clenched jaw.

"The girl whose picture is in that shrine." She elaborated, as she saw he truly did not understand her sudden question.

Instantly, she saw the outcome of her curiosity as all emotion, all recognition left his face in a wave.

There was silence, and the weed that once spent jealousy into her blood grew a leaf that drenched her with cold regret as that silence weighed around her. The feeling, what emotion it was she could not tell, but there was something hanging in that air, unraveling from around Byakuya, pressure so heavy she began to sweat underneath it.

"Byakuya…" she began, but stopped at the sound of his voice, it reverberated with brittle rage, "I told you not to go to the south garden." Byakuya's eyes, glistening Death-like, were staring with unseeing gazes at the table in front of him. "I told you. You weren't welcome there."

Hisana realized then that she had not prepared herself to be face with Byakuya's rage. She had assumed, or romanticized that perhaps his only reaction would be sadness. Sadness, Hisana could understand, she saw sadness in his eyes every day, but never had she known his anger, for simply, he did not express anger at all.

She stammered for thoughts, for words, the weed had shriveled under the loathing in his gaze, and she was left hollow and alone, "I just…I saw you leave at night and I just thought that—"

Hisana's voice cracked and splintered as Byakuya stood up from the floor. She watched him, even in her fear, admiring how beautiful he looked even in his rage. His pale lips parted as though words were trying to escape, and she listened intently for any sound that resembled letters. But none came, merely a panting sneer and Byakuya's hand had easily caught the edge of the table between them, in a single motion so detached from his expression that Hisana thought the action could have only been involuntary, he had thrown the table to the ceiling. It crashed down an instant later and shattered under the force the pressure of his Spirit. Hisana scurried away, pressing her back against the wall as she stared in horror at the man whose eyes she could not recognize.

He turned and left the room without another sound, but even as he disappeared, Hisana dared not move for fear she would upset him again.

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Hisana stayed in that room until the next morning, sleep had claimed her once or twice from the sheer exhaustion of her tears, and of her fears. The table remained; she dared not touch the thing, the vessel of wrath. The shattered bits scattered around her, and in the night she had found her hand slipped on one, and its splinter broke her skin and blood welled there, and still Hisana did not move. She knew Byakuya was gone, but maybe it was the weed inside her, but she felt as though he was still there, looming over her. The fear she had felt with the pressure he had placed upon her, none of that she would ever forget.

As the sunlight filtered in through the screen, Hisana tested her will and began to crawl towards the door. In all honesty, she was surprised that no servant had come by yet, but perhaps Byakuya had told them to keep away. She used the frame of the wall to bring herself to her feet, and found she still shook with worry as she stood. She took several breaths that should have been steadying, but instead, with each one, her fear increased and her head spun.

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Ginrei tapped his foot as Byakuya ignored his grandfather entirely; the boy kept his eyes closed as he sat, peacefully it appeared, in the shade of his cherry tree. Senbonzakura was outstretched in the grass beside him, out of his sheath and glimmering in the sunlight.

Ginrei considered that sword with a knowledgably gaze and sighed, sitting down beside his grandson on the side furthest from Senbonzakura, to whom he gave a brief nod.

"Jinzen works best if the wielder's mind is clear."

Byakuya did not respond, but Ginrei knew he was far from the perfect state of harmony he was trying to emulate.

Finally, Byakuya sighed and his smoky eyes opened to the grass before him and his hand came to rest on the tip of his Zanpakuto, "I was not in Jinzen. I was merely speaking to him."

Ginrei smirked, the way Byakuya spoke like that, as a Soul Reaper it should have made him jealous, but his grandson and that Zanpakuto of his were closer than any other two, and Ginrei knew that for them, speaking was easier than it was for most.

Byakuya brought the blade into his lap and his fingers wound around its hilt tenderly.

Ginrei watched, "What were you talking about? Business of some kind?"

Byakuya shook his head, running a finger up and down the sharp edge of the sword, but his skin the blade did not cut, although Ginrei knew it should have. But Senbonzakura would never have harmed Byakuya like that, and Ginrei knew that too.

"…Is Hisana alright?"

Byakuya flinched as though hit and his fingers slipped from the blade, the edge should have cut his wrist as his hand fell, but the Zanpaukto gave a shudder, an audible vibration that refused the wound be made until Byakuya quieted the resonant sound with a soft whisper of comfort and a palm laid upon his sword, which instantly became still again.

"Why do you ask that?"

Ginrei gave him a chiding glance, "Did you not think I would feel your Pressure burst? I felt it rise, and felt it fall, you destroyed something; the energy was harsh."

"Hisana is fine." Byakuya snapped, "Why would you assume it was her I had—"

"She came to me asking questions about your southern garden. I knew it was only a matter of time before she asked you."

"You should have told her not to. You knew I wouldn't react well." Byakuya said, sounding annoyed. His hand had returned to Senbonzakura's hilt, his fist stroking it as he spoke.

Ginrei decided to ignore the slightly crude motion, as he didn't think it was meant as it looked, and that Byakuya was merely trying to settle the blade, which still glittered in that odd way when the sun struck it. In fact, Byakuya seemed not to realize he was making the motion at all, gazing at the skyline. Ginrei gave a dismissive shudder and studied his grandson's expression further. Byakuya looked angry. But Ginrei knew that rage that he displayed was only skin deep, that even as it formed a mask over him, he did not feel it, not at all. Anger was not something Byakuya understood, and if he ever had, it had only ever been directed at his own self alone.

"I didn't know you still lit that lantern of yours."

Byakuya did not answer, his hand stilled on the hilt of Senbonzakura, and he studied the blade closely, his gray eyes softened even as his gaze passed over the sword. Ginrei followed his grandsons' eyes, focusing on the sword in Byakuya's lap. He studied that blade with tempered awe, the way it tenderly lay, a delicate sight, and yet it had proven itself strong enough to break through anything, even the walls around his master's heart.

"I do when I remember why I made it in the first place." Byakuya answered coldly, and Ginrei looked up, Byakuya had turned to him, and his smoldering ashes of eyes locked onto his grandfathers and did not release their constriction.

"And did you plan to keep it from Hisana forever?"

"I would have." Byakuya answered honestly.

Ginrei sighed again, shaking his head so his gray locks stirred around his face, "You should tell her, Byakuya."

"I will not." Byakuya snapped, "I will not speak of it again."

Ginrei decided to let silence fall between them a moment. It had always been difficult to talk to Byakuya, about anything, but particularly about anything that related to his feelings. Byakuya had always guarded himself well, ever since his father's death, ever since…

"Perhaps fate gave her to you, so that you could share this with her. So that she could help you begin to heal."

Byakuya sneered at that, his expression was cruel, and malice grew in his eyes like a fire storm, but Ginrei knew to look past that, and there, in the eye of that hurricane, he saw the misery that stoked the flames.

"Fate gave me nothing."

Ginrei was finally forced to turn away then, despite what he knew about those ashes in Byakuya's eyes, that emptiness that he saw in the center of all that misery, that feeling that something was missing there it was too overwhelming.

"I found her because I followed a firefly." Byakuya scowled, and dropped his gaze to the sword in his lap, his hands wandering across the blade, and his voice became a whisper as he did, "That was what brought me to take her in…not any love for her at all."

Ginrei did not respond for a long moment, he knew that Byakuya was not speaking to him anymore; he was still speaking to that sword of his. It was entirely possible that Byakuya had never been addressing Ginrei this whole conversation, Senbonzakura still held the greatest portion of his attentions. In a way, the sword always did.

But Ginrei had more to say, "But you love her now. I know you do. At least part of your heart wishes you could truly love her and only her."

Byakuya's lips became a smile and he closed his eyes, almost involuntarily tucking the blade a little closer to him, as though he wished to hold it tightly.

Ginrei could almost see the walls closing around his grandson again, for the few minutes they had been left down, unguarded, but slowly they returned, especially as the residue of the earlier connection to his blade faded completely. Those walls closed in everything. Every emotion, even every memory was caged behind them. Ginrei had hoped so deeply that Hisana would be able to breach those walls that he could not bear to know that she was failing now. Ginrei stood up, knowing Byakuya would talk no longer, but he laid a hand briefly on Byakuya's head, for once, his hair was free of the Kenseikan. Byakuya started to recoil under the touch; he always recoiled at physical touches. Ginrei wondered sadly if Hisana had noticed that as well. He ruffled the hair with his fingers and smiled at the frown he received.

"She deserves to understand why your heart will never be hers alone."

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Hisana's breath returned to her as she stepped onto the porch finally. It had taken all her will, her courage, to open the screen door that Byakuya had left through, as though by opening it, she would alert him to her presence again. But the view as she moved into the fresh air was empty of all life, although her mind made her fear that at any moment he would appear. She knew she couldn't give up now, not now that Byakuya knew that she was suspicious. She had to find out for certain, who the girl was and why Byakuya felt so strongly about her memory.

Hisana found Ginrei back at his perch on the porch facing his eastern garden. He barely looked up as she approached and sat down beside him, but then handed her a cup of steaming tea. She took it instinctively and looked over at him further. He held his own cup still and watched her expression with amusement, "A fortune cookie told me I would have a guest this morning." He said gently. Hisana doubted that story very much, but accepted the tea and decided not to ask an explanation of his prediction.

Ginrei's withered face looked her over, "I felt Byakuya's Spiritual Pressue rise last night. Did something happen?"

Hisana recoiled slightly, her breath startled from her and she looked around, as though searching for something, she searched to make sure Byakuya was not waiting nearby. She didn't understand why he had seeped so far into her fear, she feared him now, over anything else that could exist.

"…Hisana?"

She was shocked back to reality, and her breath returned with a snap, she looked at Ginrei, who was watching her carefully, "…It's alright. Byakuya's energy can have a lingering affect on someone like you, someone without Spirit energy, if you are exposed to it."

Hisana's mind wheeled at that, it was true, she felt different, exposed, and open, and she felt as though something had infected her like a virus.
"Drink the tea. It will help to cleanse you of his influence." Ginrei told her and Hisana raised her shaking hands to take a sip. She felt the warmth trickle down her throat and tried to focus on the sensation, as the heat pooled in her gut, she found that it did comfort her.

"Now tell me what happened." Ginrei instructed, but Hisana took another gulp of tea before she even thought to speak, whatever was in this concoction was certainly helping, the apparitions dancing in her mind were fading quickly.

"You told me, I should ask him…so I did. I asked who the girl was." Hisana took another sip of tea, she felt strength returning now, and her mind was clearing of the fog, "He just…said that I wasn't welcome in the garden and then he…" she paused slightly, now that her mind had come back to reality, she tried to relive the exact movement he had made. She realized then, that breaking the table was probably the least damaging thing he could have done. She remembered how she had watched, how she actually could see the rage rising in his eyes.

"He…lifted the table and it just…shattered." She frowned into the tea, swirling it around the rim of its cup, "It wasn't even his hand that broke it," she looked up at Ginrei, to find the withered face studying hers, "it was his Spirit. I may not have as much Energy as you…as the Shinigami do. But I can sense it a little, and I felt it then. I've never felt anything like it; I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, all I could feel was that pressure, pushing down on me, like walls closing in. All I could feel was his anger."

Hisana winced as she remembered, "I could see it rising in his eyes, like water filling up a basin, all this hate pouring into his eyes…"

Ginrei shook his head, "It was not rage, or hate you saw in Byakuya's eyes. The only thing he feels that strongly is guilt."

Hisana looked at him in surprise; that she did not believe, guilt did not cause such violence, or maybe it did, she felt such doubt now, it was hard to understand anything.

Ginrei sighed slightly, "He should have known better then to release his Spirit around you like that. He knows how it affects those who feel it."

Hisana looked away slightly, "…Do all Shinigami have Spirit like that?" she asked suddenly.

Ginrei shook his head honestly, "Byakuya's Spirit is unique. It creates fear when it is released, if you do not have the Energy to repel it, it infects you like a sickness, and if you are left under its control, it will eventually suffocate you. It will eventually tear you apart from the inside."

Hisana's hand pressed into her chest, she had felt it there, she recognized it now, it had been like a hand inside her, crushing her soul like a vice.

Ginrei watched her carefully, "Perhaps I shouldn't have told you that. I do not want you to fear him, you have no need to."

Hisana shook her head, "I know I don't…" she hesitated, "…He could have killed me. Right then, for a second I thought he was going to, it would have been easy for him. That Spirit alone could have done it. But he didn't, and so I know I shouldn't be afraid of him."

Ginrei nodded slightly, but Hisana continued, her voice softened, "…But I am afraid. I'm afraid for him."

Ginrei sighed, "He has dealt with this for many years on his own."

Hisana grew quiet, sipping her tea again. She could feel Ginrei's eyes glowering into her, "…Why do you want these answers? Why do you want to know about the girl you saw?"

Hisana looked at the old man in surprise; that was not a question she had expected. Now that the fear had left her chest, the weed returned at the mention of the girl, and Hisana felt its thorns find their way into her flesh. But Hisana denied its growth now; she reached through its ever shifting leaves and into her heart, which lived at its roots, hidden in coils.

"I wasn't sure. I was just curious at first. But then, when I saw how much he cared, I felt jealous. I wanted to find out why he seemed to care more for a memory then for me. But it's not that anymore. He's wounded, Ginrei, like an animal that's wandering after it's been shot, he's bleeding but there's no one there to help him. I want to help him."

Ginrei nodded gently, and sipped his own tea, still looking over her with consideration, "That is very honorable of you." He said simply. But then he sighed, slightly, "But you know better than anyone, Byakuya doesn't accept help easily. Not help like this."

Hisana blinked slowly, mulling that over, this time her words weren't even meant for Ginrei, they were whispered gently and they came through the weeds tender roots, "He needs someone, someone to talk too. He is all alone with that flame. Maybe even if I don't understand, I can still keep him company there."

She felt Ginrei's eyes move over her and felt exceedingly uncomfortable all of a sudden, he was calculating something, she was sure, and the fact that she didn't know what it was made her fidget with anticipation.

"Come with me." He said suddenly and was so quickly off the deck that Hisana was sure she had witnessed a flash step. She scrambled after him, laying her tea down on the porch as she stepped down and into her sandals.

Ginrei led her into the taller bushes in his eastern garden, and there, hidden in a patch of bright blue flowers, forget-me-nots, was a little wooden shrine, a box on top of a pedestal in the ground. The box resembled a temple building, with a tiered roof and red shingles. For a moment, Hisana thought, or maybe hope that it was merely a bird box, but Ginrei gestured to it with a nod that meant it was not as innocent as that. Hisana reached with a timid hand to the closed door of the shrine and pulled it open with a flinch, as though something had leapt out to startle her.

Inside the shrine was a copy of the same image that Hisana had seen within the stone lantern, lit by the flame. In this shrine though, there were no fireflies, no fire. And there was another image here, another portrait beside the image of the girl, a young man, with slick black hair, and a warm and welcoming smile, but there was something strangely familiar about the glint in his eye.

Hisana turned to Ginrei in surprise, and the old man was looking at the ground, sighing in misery before he spoke with a drawl on his tongue, "I have not come to this shrine for a long time." Ginrei said, and his voice reflected his age, it was bitter, and brittle, and with each word, it broke under the strain.

"Had you looked a little closer at the shrine you found, you would have seen the second image as well. I know Byakuya keeps it there." Ginrei told her, his ashy eyes rose to hers and she felt guilt at her jealousy overwhelming her senses, the weed was writhing and pierced her in a thousand places so deeply that she felt like keeling over right there.

"That is Byakuya's father. Sojun. And the girl…well…we called her Ritoru Shinku." He chuckled darkly, "But that wasn't her name."

Hisana stared at him in confusion, but Ginrei offered no further explanation, watching every reaction she made closely. He pulled the picture of the girl from the shrine, holding it in his hands carefully, the withered, yellowed corners curling, "He blames himself for happened. Although he should not. It was not his fault. But he refuses to admit his innocence, he clings to his guilt as it is his last connection to her…and to him. He cannot let them go, no matter how much time passes, or how much he changes."

"What did happen, Ginrei?" Hisana asked, fighting down tears that she didn't understand.

Ginrei shook his head, and replaced the picture in its shrine. Without a word, he shut its door.

"She died."

Hisana almost rolled her eyes, as if she hadn't gathered that fact already. Ginrei shook his head again, his hand lingering on the latch to his shrine, "I will say no more than that, Byakuya must tell you the rest, if you wish to know. But truthfully…perhaps you do not. And to be honest, how it happened doesn't matter. It still happened."

Hisana looked down at that, the truth in those words made the weed coil into regret.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Hisana found Byakuya on the porch outside their room, facing the southern garden without any expression.

He spoke before she said even reached his side, stopping her at the screen that led inside.

"I won't tell you anything."

Hisana sighed slightly, she was glad suddenly for the tea Ginrei had given her, she knew that if she had still been under the influence of his Spirit, his voice alone would have made her collapse in terror. As it was, her mind was clear, and Ginrei had alleviated the fear that Byakuya would strike out again, she knew now at least a part of what he was feeling, and it helped her understand his reactions.

"I was just talking to Ginrei."

She decided not to sit down, somehow she felt more confident, standing behind him like she was. Maybe it was because she didn't have to look at his face and see those ashy eyes calculating her every thought.

"You've done that a lot, it seems." Byakuya said, his voice sounded hollow.

Hisana frowned at the back of his head, but pressed on, "…He told me her name. Or at least what you called her…"

"Did he." Byakuya spoke flatly; he obviously didn't want her to answer, but there was also something else in that tone, he sounded almost amused by her statement.

"He has a shrine like yours. It has her picture in it two. But it's not a lantern; he doesn't light it like you do."

Hisana was rambling now, the weed was pulling on her throat, attempting to speak all her thoughts at one barely had she managed to filter them as they tried to escape. Byakuya didn't say anything at all this time, and now Hisana regretted not being able to read his expression from where she stood. She wet her lips nervously, but didn't dare move any closer. She wasn't sure, but for a moment, she thought she felt his Spirit beginning to rise again.

"…He wouldn't tell me what happened to her. He said you'd have to tell me that." Hisana said carefully.

Byakuya chuckled darkly, that made Hisana recoiled. Normally his laughter was something she cherished, as he rarely laughed at all, but the tone of utter emptiness this mirth held made her shudder. She decided to be silent now, to wait for Byakuya to speak again, she thought maybe she'd already said too much, maybe he was already angry with her again.

She remembered Ginrei's words, the only thing he feels that strongly is guilt. But guilt over what? The weed rose and unfurled a new flower; maybe Byakuya had killed that girl somehow. She remembered the way Ginrei had spoke of Byakuya's Spirit, could it have been an accident?

Suddenly Byakuya stood up and turned around, Hisana began to move away, for a moment afraid that somehow he had known her thoughts, but Byakuya did not look angry, and barely advanced, but neither did he leave as Hisana expected he might, instead, he moved closer to the screen and opened it, looking over at her, "It's going to rain soon."

Hisana gave him a confused look and glanced at the sky. It was gray, yes, but the clouds were light and sometimes blue would peek through, it wasn't the day for a storm, she looked back at him skeptically, he was staring at her blankly, "Let's go inside."

Hisana nodded and followed him to their room, she took her place at the end of their low table, and Byakuya moved like a drifting ghost to his own side, sitting down out of habit as he gazed with absent unseeing eyes at the floor beneath his knees.

Hisana let her gaze drift around the room, she glanced back through the slight opening in the door; Byakuya hadn't shut it all the way. Sunlight had pierced the clouds overhead and she could see a ray striking the green garden, making it turn yellow. She frowned; there was no way it was going to rain.

"I'm sorry."

Hisana's eyes snapped back to him. She was unsure if she could believe the voice she heard. Perhaps she had imagined it. Perhaps he wasn't speaking of what she thought he was. But his gaze caught hers with steely intent, and she knew he had spoken truly.

"I'm sorry."

He repeated those words. But while Hisana had hoped to hear those words now she realized they were not a comfort. Still he refused to explain, even explain what it was he was sorry for. So Hisana would not acknowledge his words. She kept her gaze on him, prompting him with pleading blinks and a sweeter smile.

Byakuya turned away, not only did his eyes look from hers to the wall, but his entire body shifted completely away from her.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you."

Hisana's fists clenched in the fabric of her kimono, of course, he still gave her no truth. He stayed in his denial, his regret he would not allow her to know.

"You can't or you won't?"

The weed spoke. It sounded angry. Hisana didn't feel angry. She only felt helpless.

Byakuya looked surprised by her tone. He turned to her with a slighting glance, looking over her expression, seeking to discover if the anger he heard was real or not. But Hisana forced her eyes to mock him with the same stoic emotionless dullness that his own eyes always gave to her.

"I can't."

His voice caught Hisana off-guard. The brittleness was gone, replaced by weary weight that bent him, but refused to break.

"You can't understand, and I can't talk about it anymore."

Hisana clung to his words as though they were a thread in a labyrinth, his voice was not his own, it was detached, it did not come from his mouth or his tongue, it was his heart expressing through these words, and Hisana had never heard it speak before.

"I haven't spoken of this for so long that I can't find the words anymore; I wouldn't know how to start."

"Start at the beginning."

It was not the weed speaking now, Hisana felt her own heart stir the words.

"Maybe I wouldn't understand, but I can listen to you. Byakuya, you need to talk to someone about this, whatever this is."

Hisana saw her husband fidget uncomfortably, his fists wrapped in his robe. She felt validated by his action. Somehow, and she wasn't sure how, but she had turned the tables on him, she controlled the situation now.

"Even if it's not me, maybe you could talk to Ginrei. I know he knows what troubles you."

But Byakuya shook his head; his eyes were glassy and focused blankly on the table in front of him.

"Ginrei doesn't know. He thinks of this differently than I do."

Hisana nodded, mulling those words from his tongue. She considered, in Ginrei's shrine, there was no flame there.

"Then even if I don't understand, even if I don't know what it is that you know, you can still talk to me. You can still tell me why you're so angry."

Byakuya's narrow lips became the saddest most beseeching smile Hisana had ever seen, "I'm not angry. I'm not angry at all. I'm sorry you thought that."

Hisana stared at him in surprise, she remembered what Ginrei had told her that it had been guilt she had witnessed, at that time, Hisana had not believed it, she hadn't imagined that guilt could bear such violence.

Hisana didn't answer, didn't speak, but stood up and moved along the table to Byakuya's side. He didn't acknowledge her; he was still looking at the table in front of him with hazy eyes that glittered in a strange way.

She knelt beside him, even without touching him she felt the pressure of his Spirit around her, and with that thought, that he surrounded her, she gently brushed her fingers down his cheek, and tucked his long hair behind his ear.

Byakuya still didn't look at her eyes, but his gaze moved to her knees, looking down at the gentle floral motif of her kimono, he seemed to lack the strength to raise his head at all; his shoulders weak and slouched as though a weight lay upon them.

Then Hisana realized that the glitter and the haze she had seen in his eyes was not at all how she imagined, and she felt the warmth of salt-filled tears seep through her robe to the skin of her thighs. Her hands grasped at his strong, sinewy shoulders and at her further touch Byakuya's will collapsed completely to disarray and he sunk like a stone in a river into her, his head buried into the folds of her lap and his hands clenched at her as her own fingers softly caressed him, his back and his shoulders, his neck and his scalp as she whispered things that meant nothing, but her voice was the catalyst, and that comforted his racing heart.

Hisana closed her eyes a moment, her fingers coiling in Byakuya's long raven hair, but shortly a sound brought her eyes open again, a soft pitter, whispers that sent chills up her spine. She looked at the door, at the shadows there, and through the thin opening, she could see glisten as the rain poured down from the clearing sky.