The faint smell lingered, accompanying him everywhere he went. The serenity enveloping him tasted just like her; sweet, tender and welcoming.
Kuchiki Byakuya's marriage had been the talk of the entire Soul Society. Everyone was reasonably stunned to see him going against his entire clan to marry some peasant from the streets of Rukongai. His pride as the head of the most prominent noble house, something he prized above all, should never have allowed it. He was known for his arrogance, coldness and his insistence in abiding by the laws and customs at all costs.
His marriage defeated everything he represented, stood for and believed in.
And the shinigamis could only imagine how irrevocably he must have fallen for that woman to act so uncharacteristically.
But then, just a few years later, his wife died. "The captain of the 6th squad is indeed unfortunate", they said. "Losing his wife; the one he so willingly broke the laws for… This must be terrible for him."
She was gone now… Or was she, really?
She had always owned a part of him that had been exclusively hers. Almost as if the sole purpose of its creation was for it to belong to her and her alone. The part of him that nobody else even thought existed.
Now, however, everything was different, though there was a beautiful pain gracing it. The piece he had once lost to her was returned to him, but it was more absolute now, because it carried her reminiscent scent.
Her essence was intimately mingled with his aura, and she was closer to him than ever before. He discovered her, anew, and this time she came to him wholly, unrestrained. No lies, no doubts, no regrets.
He felt her breath, her touch, her delicate voice subtly caress his senses, somehow much more familiar and trusted. She ceased being a separate entity. She was him and he was her.
Sometimes however, he missed the space that was once present in between them. He missed her distinction.
Her heartwarming smile, her shyness, her selflessness, her misplaced guilt, her kindness, how she perpetually apologized for unintentionally hurting him, how she was so ignorant of her own innocence… All those tiny little things about her, that had drawn him to her so overpoweringly, making him desire every inch of her soul; would haunt him, and his heart would ache unbearably.
But that state of vulnerability was never long lasting. Whenever he felt helpless, her vanishing embrace would remind him that he was not alone. She was alive in his thoughts, his memories, in him and he was never alone.
He would then sense her there, in every beat of his heart, connected to him in every way, beautifully blended with his very existence.
She was everywhere.
She was in the gentle wind that playfully ruffled his hair while he wore his Kenseikan. She was in that cherry blossom that fell lightly on his shoulder as he stood beneath the sakura tree in his back garden during his night stroll. She was in the soft music that floated to his ears when he played the koto.
He associated her with every warm and comforting emotion and she was always there.
So yes… Her soul no longer possessed a shell of its own. And though there was an unrelenting, profound sadness that the truth bore, there was also acceptance. But more than anything else, there was a unique bliss in being conscious of her soul now residing in him.
The distance between them had been essential in making him fall in love, but the lack of it was what let him stay in love eternally.
So here he was, loving her unconditionally, feeling it being reciprocated in ways he could never truly express, only experience.
Loving her completed him and being aware of her unseen presence brought him to life every moment.
He had lost her physically, only to be reunited with her in an unconventional manner that was pure, earnest and bare to the very core.
And this time, she would be entirely his. Nothing could come in between, nothing could ever estrange them. They would forever continue existing together. And in the end, he could only remain grateful; grateful to her for being the brightness in his dull life, and replacing the grayness with affectionate colors, that he knew would last endlessly.
"Hisana… Arigatou."