First public fanfic. Please note I'm a huge Byakuya fan – this is not meant to put him in a horrible light, just to set the stage for his current mindset. If a person doesn't allow himself to feel pleasure or happiness, what's left when you have a natural urge? This takes place after the Soul Society arc. Several other Bleach characters will be making an appearance with Renji being a primary char in this story.

Never This Bad

Kuchiki Byakuya, pinnacle of nobility and head of his Clan, sat in a run down teahouse in a village on one of his Rukongai landholdings. Wearing his impeccable Captain's uniform, ginpaku kazahana no uzuginu and kenseikan he looked out of place among the scruffy farmers and shopkeepers who were staring at their liege lord. The owner of the teahouse had been shocked at his arrival and had immediately rounded up every person who was working and made sure they were ready to be at the beck and call of the noble who had arrived at dusk.

"Kuchiki-dono, it is an honour." Bowing from the waist he spoke directly to the tatami mats beneath his feet. Byakuya barely gave him a glance and went directly to an empty table, setting Senbonzakura to his side carefully and sitting down. Making frantic motions the owner had his best tea served in record time. Byakuya was sipping it and watching the last of the sunset when he felt the owner hovering nearby.

Byakuya looked in annoyance at the man fidgeting behind him

"Yes?"

"Kuchiki-dono, I was wondering if you wanted any other refreshment?" the man all but whispered, sweat rolling off his face.

"Show me what is available." Byakuya never looked away from the falling darkness. He did not go to the teahouses to drink their abysmal tea. In fact he hadn't been to one for at least two decades, suppressing those urges as long as he could. When Hisana died he swore that he would never touch another person with love again, and he knew he had kept that promise. Yet those urges remained. First it was every few months, then every year, then two or three years passed. Now it had been twenty years since his last visit.

The owner quickly gathered up the women who were in his employ specifically for entertainment he lined them up in front of the shoji that Byakuya was facing. Sighing, the Kuchiki leader eyed the women in front of him. All homely and smiling, that was unacceptable; the smiles bothered him. On some he read their attraction to him, others he saw the lust for his wealth or a desire to be a concubine or something more. Frowning, he drank the last of his tea and was about to leave when one of the servants scurried out to clear another table, silently gathering the teacups. Feeling his eyes on her she glanced quickly at him, meeting his gaze for a half second and then dropped her eyes and almost ran out of the room.

"Her." He gestured the way that the woman ran.

A shocked look on his face the owner stammered, "Kuchiki-dono, that is just a nuhi, she works in the kitchen, she has no…" Snapping his mouth shut at the icy glare he nodded and scurried into the kitchen, dismissing the rest of the women who silently disappeared. In a few minutes he was back out again, bowing low to hide his discomfort.

"My Lord, I… I can show you to where she waits."

Byakuya stood up, Senbonzakura sliding smoothly into his sash. Following the owner who kept bowing at every turn in the hallway he finally slid open a shoji and Byakuya strode in looking briefly at the woman kneeling, her forehead touching the mats in-between her hands as she prostrated herself before him.

Making sure that his Lord wouldn't want anything further of him, the owner bowed again, quietly slid the door closed, ordered his entire establishment closed and everyone to get as far away from the room as possible.

Byakuya took off his Captain's haori and carefully laid it on a small table near the door, placing Senbonzakura on top of it. Dragging a stool to where the woman still was in a kow tow he sat in front of her.

"Sit up."

She returned to a seiza and kept her head bowed. Extending a finger he placed it under her chin and raised her head. Older, still had some beauty but her eyes were full of tears and they obstinately refused to look at him.

"Look at me."

Slowly large brown eyes met cold gray. He felt her shudder and saw her fear dripping off her face. Feeling the warmth start in his stomach Byakuya backhanded her across the face, hearing her cry and seeing the blood spray across the shoji as her head whipped around. Whimpering, she pressed her forehead against his tabi. Annoyed, he pushed her up with a foot and hit her with his other hand hard enough to throw her down onto the matting. This time she just laid there, quietly sobbing. He stood up and walked over to her, seeing her tremble as he approached. Picking her up by the back of her kimono he stood her on her feet. Watching the blood drip from her face onto the floor he felt the flush grow stronger.

"Cease that sniffling," he ordered and heard her audibly gulp as she tried to stop her crying.

"Lay on the bed on your back and be still." He turned his back to her and walked over to where Senbonzakura lay, hearing her scuffle across the mats and the soft sounds of her body on the futon.

Drawing a distressed Senbonzakura from the saya he repeated in his mind as he always did, "I am not betraying Hisana."

As he walked with the unsheathed sword towards the woman on the bed her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened to scream. Enough of this. Moving quickly he had put his hand over her mouth and slit her thin obi with the sword and deftly pulled it out from under her.

"I said to be still and silent." Byakuya stuffed part of the obi in her mouth and let the remainder fall onto the futon. He put Senbonzakura on the bed beside the woman who followed his every move with tearful eyes, her jaw working on the gag.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slowly parted her kimono, laying out each side carefully, leaving her arms in the sleeves. Golden skin, soft black pubic hair and firm breasts with tiny nipples met his eyes. Noting the faint outline of some scars, he traced each white line with his finger and watched her body shudder at each contact, rippling to get away from him.

Placing his hand on her pubic mound he heard her groan and felt her try to close her legs. Two sharp slaps on each thigh stopped her and she reluctantly relaxed her legs again. He felt her, dry, no arousal. The flush moved up to his fingers and into his toes. Quickly untying the bare minimum of his hakama to push it slightly off his hips he raised himself in-between her legs, spreading them further apart with his hands and laying her knees flat against the bed. Byakuya watched her face intently, her eyes squeezing shut and her breathing was laboured through the gag. One hand opened her and his other guided himself to her entrance, slowly pushing in. Her breathing became muffled screams through her obi. He felt the pain himself, almost a tearing against his sensitive flesh as he doggedly rammed inside of her. This was good, no pleasure, just release. Starting to move in and out he looked at her small hands clutching at the sheets in agony; he gripped them with his own and held them on either side of her head, pushing them down for leverage. Slowly it became easier for him to move inside her channel and he shifted slightly, giving hard, fast thrusts, something that would bring him to conclusion as fast as possible.

He felt it building slowly and bent his head down to her neck, biting her until he tasted blood and felt her thrash against him, making his body shudder as she tensed around him. Deciding to repeat it on the other side of her neck he was rewarded with the same response. Byakuya let go of her hands and placed one hand over her mouth and nose, pinching her nostrils shut so the only way she could get air was through the gag. Immediately she panicked, trying to get air through the cloth and failing. Small hands beat on his chest and back. Her legs flailed and body shook. He came, letting go of her face, closing his eyes and shuddering into her. No pleasure, just release.

As he opened his eyes he saw what he always saw, a brief flicker of Hisana's face before it melted into the other woman. Guilt, as usual, raged through him as effectively as a zanpaktou through his chest.

"No, you are not Hisana," he growled and threw her off the bed where she crumpled on the tatami, a tangle of kimono and limbs.

And in the back of his mind, the memories of Hisana in ecstasy over his gentle lips and tongue on her.

"No." He looked at the woman in anger. How could this thing ever bring up memories of Hisana?

Her smile as she ran gentle fingers over his chest.

"No," he repeated, closing his eyes.

The sweetness of every kiss.

"No!" He opened his eyes, red with rage, and saw the woman staring up at him in fear. He would wipe that expression off her face, every expression, he would make sure that she would never bring up memories of Hisana again, he would destroy her for making him remember. She was there just for his release; this was nothing like with Hisana, why was he remembering?

Soft lips fluttering against him. "Byakuya-sama, I love you."

And he went silent with an all-encompassing anger.

Several hours later he found himself sitting on the bed, his aching head in his hands, staring at the destruction around him.

"I did this," he thought.

He ran his eyes over the room. The furniture had been demolished by Senbonzakura, shoji were torn on all sides of the room, the futon had been sliced open, some of the tatami were torn and there was blood spattered everywhere. His eyes widened slightly, remembering the woman. She lay on the other side of the bed in an ever-spreading puddle of red that soaked through her torn kimono. Sighing he turned her over and saw she was still breathing shallowly. Putting on his haori and Senbonzakura he walked out and the manager came to him, his deep bow unable to hide the fear radiating off of him.

"Kuchiki-dono, I…" he stammered and Byakuya pushed into his hands a purse filled with enough money to almost buy another teahouse.

"Get her a healer."

Kuchiki Byakuya walked slowly out of the building, feeling the oppressive silence around him, his whole body wanting to run away but his mind refusing to lose his regal bearing among these people.

When he reached the outside night air he heard a commotion in the teahouse and the soft patter of feet running to the manager's yell. The guilt welled up again. It had never been this bad before, never gone this far. He felt Senbonzakura stir in his mind.

You should be ashamed.

"I know."

I understood you not picking girls that looked like Hisana. I understood you trying to pick girls who weren't attracted to you, as few as those were. I almost understand why you wanted them to feel every emotion not associated with Hisana. But, Byakuya, I do not understand this.

"I know."

What is your explanation?

"There is none."

That is unacceptable.

He felt her withdraw.

To Be Continued.