Please be aware that the rating comes into play here, and things get a little smutty towards the end of the chapter.

Thanks so much to those who reviewed, favourited and followed - I really appreciate the feedback, and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!

"Is it true, sir? That Itou-san is going to be executed?"

Renji bit back a swell of impatience. He had just rounded up a training session with the new recruits; he was tired and hungry, and longing to get inside out of the sun. His irritation evaporated, however, when he saw the face of the girl who had cornered him. She looked pale and drawn, dark shadows under her eyes, mouth set in a grim line. She was close to Itou, he knew; the two of them tended to stay close to each other during training, and he often saw them together in the mess hall.

"Dunno where you got that from," he said, mopping his brow casually. "He screwed up, but not that bad. Anyway, his trial's not for another week."

The girl's expression didn't shift. "I'm very sorry to trouble you, Abarai-fukutaichou. It's just that Miyamoto-san was saying that it's a capital offense, what Itou-san did. He says they've probably already decided to execute Itou-san, and the trial is just a formality."

Renji gave the girl a reassuring smile. "Miyamoto's an idiot," he said confidently, although he honestly couldn't put a face to the name at that moment. "Execution's the maximum penalty, but they don't do that unless someone gets really out of control, running around killing humans just for the fun of it. Worst case scenario for Itou is if he gets discharged, but taichou's working to make sure that doesn't happen."

Ok, maybe he shouldn't have said that last bit. Kuchiki-taichou was working on the case, but he hadn't seen fit to tell Renji exactly what he was doing or what punishment he was recommending for his errant subordinate. For all Renji knew, his captain was sitting at his desk right this moment, drafting a proposal to have Itou permanently cast out of the Gotei 13. He didn't think it was likely, but then, Kuchiki-taichou's views on crime and punishment had been somewhat unpredictable ever since his sister's near-execution all that time ago. The incident had prompted him to reconsider his black-and-white approach to the law, but he was still a strict disciplinarian, and it was hard to guess at which rules he would cheerfully bend and which he would enforce to the fullest and most brutal extent of his power. For example, he now allowed Renji all kinds of license when it came to asking too many questions, back-chatting his captain and occasionally even having fun at his expense, but none of that had stopped him from assigning Renji a huge stack of mind-numbing paperwork as punishment when he apprehended him not wearing his lieutenant's badge while on duty at ten o'clock in the evening in his own office with nobody else around to see him.

So, in short, Renji wasn't sure what his captain intended to do about this kid Itou. He thought he should probably check up on that, if he was going to need to quash the frightened rumours already making the rounds of the division.

The girl looked slightly less anxious for his reassurance, and so he took his leave, heading straight to his captain's office. Ignoring the jolt in his stomach - he was getting used to it by now - he knocked softly at the door.

"Enter."

Renji bowed and entered the room. "Forgive my intrusion, taichou."

Kuchiki-taichou was not behind his desk, as Renji had expected. He was standing in front of one of the bookshelves that lined his office, tracing the spines with a finger as he searched for something. His other arm cradled several hefty-looking tomes. He set these down and turned to face Renji.

"It's fine," he said. "What's the matter?"

Renji felt the usual flutter rise in his midriff as his captain's gaze fell on him. He forced it down; this wasn't the time for it. "I wanted to talk to you about Itou, sir," he said.

Kuchiki-taichou's expression didn't budge. "Carry on."

"I wondered if you could give me anything to tell the troops," said Renji. "There are rumours already, saying he's going to be executed, and the rookies are starting to get scared."

"I see." Kuchiki-taichou turned away again, resuming his scanning of the bookshelves. "Have you informed them that the trial has yet to take place?"

"I have, sir. It's not enough for them." Renji stepped further into the room, approaching the vacant desk and examining the books his captain had recently set down. Legal texts. Court records. Several volumes on statute interpretation. "Er...do you need help finding something, sir?"

"I'm looking for- ah, here it is." He retrieved a large legal encyclopaedia from the top shelf and added it to the pile on his desk. "As you can see, I'm looking into the issue at present. I can't yet say what the punishment might be. Rest assured, however, that it will not be execution."

Renji nodded. He was glad to hear his captain confirm this, but it didn't do much to solve the issue he'd come with of needing to calm the speculation among the troops. "Can I ask, sir...what kinds of options are there for dealing with him?"

Kuchiki-taichou hesitated. "Probation at the very least," he answered at length, his tone unreadable. "A period of suspension. A fine. A term of imprisonment. Possibly expulsion."

"And you-"

"I told you, I don't know."

The hint of impatience in his tone made Renji wince; he backpedalled quickly. "I'm sorry, sir," he said. "I didn't mean to push."

"Hm." Kuchiki-taichou sat back down at his desk. "Was there anything else?" he asked, no longer sounding sharp, but a clear dismissal in his voice.

"No, taichou." Renji bowed, and took his leave. He only got as far as the door.

"Actually, Renji…"

Startled, Renji turned to face his captain. "Sir?" The man wasn't normally the indecisive type – when he dismissed you, he dismissed you.

"What are your thoughts on the case?" He had turned his back to Renji, gazing out the window behind the desk. His voice sounded light and conversational, and anyone else would have thought it was a casual question of no particular importance. Renji knew better. Kuchiki-taichou did not make small talk, certainly not with his subordinates; Renji's answer clearly mattered to him. Some kind of test, perhaps?

"You know the law better than me, taichou," Renji replied, hedging his bets.

A tense pause. "It is unlike you not to have an opinion," said Kuchiki-taichou at length. "I will ask again. What are your thoughts?"

"Well…" said Renji hesitantly, still trying to spot the catch. "I can see both sides of the argument, sir. The kid was doing what he thought was right, and he didn't really cause any harm – the human was mostly dead already, far as I've heard. But," he added quickly, "the law's the law, I respect that. He knew what he was doing."

"Indeed." Renji could hear the frown in Kuchiki-taichou's voice, although he did not turn from the window. Silence fell, and Renji was left with the uncomfortable impression that he was expected to say something more, although he had no idea what. He still wasn't entirely sure where this was going.

"Sir?" he ventured, when the silence started to unnerve him a little.

"The law's the law, you said," murmured Kuchiki-taichou, so softly that Renji barely caught it. "But I don't think you really believe that."

"Sir…"

"In his situation, would you have done the same thing?" At last the captain turned around, and sharp grey eyes met Renji's own. "Would you at least have considered it?"

Renji's first instinct was to deny this, but something in his captain's expression gave him pause. Kuchiki-taichou looked just slightly unsure of himself, and it dawned on Renji that he wasn't being tested – he was being asked for advice.

"I…I might have, yeah," he admitted. He felt completely wrong-footed – since when was he someone whose opinion Kuchiki-taichou took into account?

A long pause followed this. "Exceptions cannot be made," said Kuchiki-taichou eventually, his tone rather halting. "Law-breakers have to be taken to account, or the whole system would be useless."

"Of course," said Renji. "So I guess it's a question of how hard you come down on him."

Kuchiki-taichou seemed to consider this. The silence dragged on so long that Renji wondered if he was being silently dismissed. Just as he was about to go, Kuchiki-taichou looked up and met his eyes again, and his gaze was probing, searching for something Renji couldn't identify. Without thinking, Renji stepped forward, knowing he shouldn't hold his superior officer's gaze for so long but reluctant to break contact.

"And you yourself would favour leniency," said Kuchiki-taichou.

Renji swallowed. "I would, sir."

Slowly, still frowning slightly, Kuchiki-taichou reached out a hand and brushed a loose strand of hair behind Renji's ear. Renji held his breath; the light brush of those fingertips at his temple sent a shiver down his spine.

"I thought you might."

"…taichou?"

And then the spell broke, and Kuchiki-taichou jerked his hand back, looking startled.

"Taichou-"

"You're free to leave, Renji," said Kuchiki-taichou shortly. He returned to his desk, snatching up a book from the pile and placing it in front of him as though he wanted to create a barrier.

Renji swallowed. "Kuchiki-taichou, what was-"

"An accident. My apologies."

Like hell it was an accident. Renji's pulse had quickened, and his face felt rather hot all of a sudden. Taichou had definitely...just for a second...

"You're free to leave," repeated the captain, and his expression when he looked back up at Renji was almost too blank. "I have work to do." He dropped his gaze promptly to the book before him to illustrate the point.

But when he stepped outside the office and took a deep, shuddering breath, Renji could have sworn he felt those eyes on him through the opaque door.

The rest of the day crawled slowly by. Renji could barely focus; he kept turning Kuchiki-taichou's strange behaviour over in his head, trying to figure out what it meant. He had not seemed out of sorts at all – well, ok, his seeking advice from Renji was a little odd, but Renji was more than happy to ascribe that to the recent changes in Kuchiki-taichou's world-view and the considerable improvements in their working relationship. But then Kuchiki-taichou had reached out to him…and perhaps it was wishful thinking, but now Renji was sure that his captain hadn't forgotten about their kiss any more than he had.

He had fully intended to stay late in the office again - if anything was going to happen, surely tonight would be the night for it - but Kuchiki-taichou had evicted him promptly and firmly as soon as he had heard the first trickle of homebound soldiers out in the hall, insisting he looked too tired and distracted to be of any more use that day.

And that was how Renji knew that something was the matter between them. Kuchiki-taichou's usual strategies for curing his subordinates of distraction tended to be light on early-marks and heavy on punitive measures and extra assignments. Ejecting a subordinate from the office who wanted to work overtime was unprecedented and remarkably out of character.

The question was, what was Kuchiki-taichou feeling that was causing all this tension? Was he struggling heroically to suppress an unseemly attraction to Renji? Or was he instead trying to suppress a memory that shamed and disgusted him? Was he angry with Renji for compromising their professional relationship? Was he anxious that Renji might reveal what had passed between them and damage his reputation?

The captain was giving him nothing to go on.

Feeling confused and frustrated, he headed straight for the pub. With all the late nights he'd been working recently, it had been a while since he'd gone and had a few drinks with his friends. Technically he hadn't been invited anywhere, but he was bound to run into someone who'd welcome him as a drinking buddy.

He was slightly surprised to find Rukia there, wedged in at a table between her two Third Seats, who appeared to be having a drinking contest. He didn't want to interrupt, but she caught sight of him and immediately sprang to her feet.

"Please excuse me," she said to her companions, who were too busy glaring at each other over the rims of their cups to pay much attention. "Renji! What are you doing?"

"I was gonna ask you that," replied Renji. "I'm just killing time."

Rukia glared enviously at him. "Those two have been pestering me to come out for weeks," she said, glancing back at her boisterous Third Seats. "I ran out of excuses."

Renji chuckled. "I can see that." He peered around, spotting an empty table in the corner of the room. "Wanna have a drink with me instead? They look pretty well occupied."

They made their way to the free table, unnoticed by Rukia's former companions. For a time they drank in silence, Renji struggling to stop his thoughts from drifting outside of the pub.

It was Rukia who spoke first. "Has work been busy?" she asked, reaching over to refill his glass.

Renji shrugged. "Kind of. One of our guys got in some trouble on a Real World mission, his hearing comes up next week."

"I did hear a rumour," Rukia admitted. She hesitated a moment, then continued with a grimace: "someone said he was going to be executed."

"Someone's talking a load of crap," said Renji impatiently. "I figured taichou would have told you the full story, though."

Rukia shook her head. "Nii-sama's barely been home," she said, sounding suddenly rather wistful. "By the way, Renji...do you know if something's...well, bothering him?"

Renji concentrated on keeping his expression neutral. Yeah, he knew something was bothering Kuchiki-taichou, alright. But it wasn't something he felt like sharing with Rukia at this point. Or possibly ever. "When was the last time you caught me and your brother having a heart-to-heart?" he replied instead.

"That's true." Rukia gave a tiny sigh. "I probably shouldn't worry. He just seems a bit out of sorts, and it's odd that he's spending so much time away from home. But you can never tell, with nii-sama."

Renji drank to that.

"I thought he'd want to be home today," Rukia continued, emptying her own cup; Renji refilled it absently. "But he said he'd be working late again. It's the anniversary, you know."

Renji froze, his hand still holding the sake bottle over Rukia's cup. "Your sister?"

"Yeah." Looking bemused, Rukia took the bottle firmly from his hand and set it back down. "What's the matter, Renji?"

"Nothing." Renji blinked several times to clear his head and slouched back in his seat.

Well, he felt kind of stupid now. There he'd been, building up an elaborate story of romantic tension between himself and Kuchiki-taichou and getting himself thoroughly wound up about it, when really Kuchiki-taichou was preoccupied over the memory of his wife and obviously not thinking about Renji at all. Renji had been stewing so much over that kiss (like a lovesick teenager, he thought contemptuously) that he'd just assumed it would loom equally large in his captain's mind. But Kuchiki-taichou wasn't a lovesick teenager, and he had a complicated, busy life of his own to think about.

It occurred to Renji that he'd fallen silent, and that Rukia was watching him with a furrowed brow and anxiously pursed lips.

"Sorry," he said hastily. "Long day. Hey, let's drink up - I need to wind down a bit."

Byakuya was trying to decide whether or not he ought to be feeling terribly, terribly guilty.

Having weighed up the evidence, he was leaning towards an answer in the affirmative.

In the first place, he was procrastinating. He'd finished reading up on the laws relevant to Itou Susumu's case, but still he hesitated to draft his official recommendation. His conversation with Renji had supported his conviction that a light sentence was warranted – but then, of all the people with whom he surrounded himself on a regular basis, Renji was probably the least qualified to offer interpretations of the law. Byakuya found himself slightly alarmed that he had apparently come to view his lieutenant's free and easy approach to law an order as a helpful counterpoint to his own beliefs, and not as the dangerous liability he had seen it to be when he first accepted Renji into the Sixth. He was aware, too, that the Itou case was the very last word on trivial – nothing about it warranted the long hours of introspective reflection Byakuya had devoted to it, and yet here he was, still hesitating to decide on the boy's fate.

In the second place, it was the anniversary of Hisana's passing, and still he felt like he could breathe.

He'd risen early that morning to visit her shrine, as he always did, but when he stood before her picture he hadn't felt the thing that had always marked this day, the heavy weight that settled in his chest and crushed his lungs until he could hardly draw breath. This morning, he had breathed in the cool morning air freely, and his heart was bathed only in a gentle, melancholy nostalgia.

He supposed that its absence marked the culmination of a process that had been underway since the day of Aizen's defection. Admitting to Rukia the true relationship she held to his wife had been like lancing an infected wound; it had hurt, almost more than he could bear, but it was a clean, wholesome kind of pain and when it ebbed he felt lighter than he had in years. And in the weeks and months that followed that moment, he stopped seeing Hisana's sister when he looked at Rukia, started seeing his sister. The aching cold in his bones had subsided and his lips had remembered, slowly but surely, how to smile.

And now, on the anniversary of Hisana's passing, he could breathe with ease.

A year and a half ago, he would have been appalled with himself. Then again, a year and a half ago Byakuya would have been appalled by a good many of the things he did nowadays. And so he thought he should probably feel terribly guilty, for betraying his old convictions in this way (for how, he would have said back then, could he dare to breathe easily around the death of the woman who meant more to him than his own life?), but he couldn't summon more than a passing twinge of half-hearted penitence.

What he did feel, loath though he was to admit it, was rather sorry for himself. This was something he despised in others and strove to banish from his own character, but tonight he was dangerously close to abandoning his dignity and wallowing in self-pity like a sulky youth.

Bluntly put, Byakuya was lonely.

Renji...why had Renji kissed him? Did the man have no respect for the difference in rank between them, for the natural and necessary boundaries between captain and subordinate? Byakuya had been caught off his guard, hadn't had time to stop him - hadn't had time to steel himself against the ridiculous intensity of the longing that such a simple act of intimacy had awakened after so long without even the most innocent physical contact.

He thought he could have dealt with it easily enough if his preoccupation had limited itself to the physical. Unfortunately, though, the fondness he had come to feel for his lieutenant had added itself to the mix, complicating things further. It seemed that whenever Byakuya wasn't guiltily remembering the taste of Renji's mouth, he was having to upbraid himself for dwelling on some trivial interaction with Renji, on an amusing joke or an unexpectedly astute comment the other man had made. And now, apparently, Renji had become his unwitting touchstone in matters of ethics and leadership – things he knew full well he ought to be dealing with on his own, as captain of the Sixth Division and Renji's direct superior.

Byakuya had all but forgotten what it was like to want. A full half-century in mourning had numbed his heart, acclimatised him to loneliness. That his inertia had been shattered so abruptly and easily stunned him. That the person responsible was none other than his lieutenant added grievous insult to the injury.

And the only thing stopping him from indulging in the most shameful sullenness over the entire mess was the cold, hard knife-point of anxiety that assured him, if he allowed his emotions to run amok now, he ran the risk of being unable to get them back under control.

Which, considering his mistake earlier that day, was a risk he absolutely could not afford to run.

Byakuya gazed morosely up at the thin crescent moon visible outside his office window. The moon stared back rather sternly, and it occurred to Byakuya that the sun had set many hours ago now, and even by his standards it was getting late to be in the office. He wasn't overly fond of the manor at the moment - the large, empty rooms were too impersonal for his present taste - but he couldn't avoid home forever.

He made to rise, but at that moment a surge of familiar reiatsu swirled out in the hall .

Renji...?

Another moment, and then the office door opened and Abarai Renji came barging in, bringing with him a strong smell of sake and an air of fierce determination that made Byakuya feel slightly uneasy.

"Yes, do come in, Renji," he managed, schooling his expression into careful neutrality.

Renji ignored him, staring at the floor and swaying very slightly where he stood. Byakuya waited in silence for a minute, then cleared his throat. Renji jerked his head up and looked straight at him, moving forward until he was right in front of the desk.

"Renji, exactly how much have you had to drink tonight-"

"You kissed me back."

Byakuya fell silent, running over his options in his mind. Renji was clearly drunk. He had charged into the office uninvited and cut Byakuya off mid-sentence, which suggested that he was unlikely to defer to rank or obey an order to leave. Ejecting him by force would of course be easy, but the idea was deeply unappealing - that was a last resort, in case things got wildly out of control. Reasoning with him would likely be a waste of time. Perhaps he should simply leave the office himself, and let Renji stay there alone until he got bored or passed out...

"You kissed me back," Renji repeated, and his words were surprisingly clear. "And I want to know why."

Byakuya closed his eyes. "Renji-"

"And I know it's her anniversary and you're really busy and don't want to talk about it, but I keep thinking, 'what if taichou wants me? What if taichou hates me? What if taichou never looks at me properly again?' And today I thought, 'maybe taichou doesn't give a damn and he's forgotten about it already.' But I don't think that's true, taichou. Because earlier you didn't want me to go, but then you told me to leave and-"

"Renji."

"-I just thought if I...taichou?"

Renji paused, hands frozen in the middle of a dramatic gesture; he still swayed slightly, but his gaze was steady and alert.

"Taichou?" he said again, his voice softer.

Byakuya took several quiet, calming breaths. A number of emotions warred in his chest, but irritation was pushing its way rapidly to the forefront. "Renji, you are drunk," he said sharply.

Renji frowned. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You are not thinking clearly," Byakuya pressed on. "Go back to your room and get some sleep; we'll deal with this later."

Renji's eyes narrowed. "No we won't," he said, and he sounded almost desperate. "You'll just keep ignoring it. And I'm not that drunk."

"I beg to differ."

Renji sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, taichou. But I've just gotta find out one thing."

"And that would be-"

And then Byakuya forgot to think, because Renji fairly lunged over the desk and pressed their mouths together.

His irritation melted away. His better judgement, his sense of propriety went tumbling out the window. Renji tasted of sake and salt, and when Byakuya's lips parted reflexively Renji deepened the kiss, flooding Byakuya's senses with dizzying warmth. Instinctively he made to pull away, but Renji's hands were fisted in his hair, and Renji was sucking none too gently on his lower lip; his own pulse pounded in his ears, urging him to give in to the sudden onslaught of sensation. And when Renji's mouth moved lower, ghosting over his jaw, nipping sharply at his neck, he couldn't help it; a small gasp escaped his lips and his hands rose up to Renji's shoulders, gripping hard enough to bruise.

If Renji minded, he didn't show it. Somehow he managed to bring himself over the desk without breaking contact, and in one smooth movement pulled Byakuya from his chair and dragged him to the floor, straddling him, tongue lapping hungrily at his neck. A bolt of indignation shot through the haze that had descended on Byakuya's mind, and for a split second he fully intended to push Renji off him and put an end to this undignified spectacle - but then one of Renji's hands slipped inside his kosode, eagerly caressing his chest, and a shiver of pleasure once again drove the thought from his mind.

He shoud stop this. He really should stop this. But Renji's touch felt good, far better than it perhaps should have, and he wanted this so much - he settled a hand in Renji's hair, stroking his scalp, allowing a quiet sigh to pass his lips.

"Shit," Renji muttered against his neck. "Shit, taichou...please...please let me..."

"Renji!" He had intended to sound sharp; what came out was a breathy, pleading sound that made his cheeks burn with embarrassment. Or perhaps they were burning because Renji was tugging open his upper garments, mimicking the path of his hand with his tongue. Byakuya honestly couldn't tell, and figuring it out wasn't a high priority as Renji caught a nipple gently between his teeth, tongue swirling around the bud. His hands tracked lower, caressing his stomach, trailing across his hips and oh-

Renji cupped his arousal, squeezing lightly through the fabric of his hakama. Byakuya moaned, hips arching helplessly into the touch. He dimly registered Renji's other hand tugging at the ties of his hakama, struggling with his fundoshi, shoving fabric roughly out of the way - and then Renji's hand closed around his cock, began stroking gently, and it was all Byakuya could do not to cry out as everything was reduced to Renji's touch. His hips bucked and he sunk his teeth sharply into his lower lip. It had been so long since anyone had touched him like that, and he could almost have come just from those light, experimental strokes. But Renji's warm, wet mouth was moving lower still, oh god, tongue tracing the jut of his hip-bone, wild red hair tumbling over the pale skin of Byakuya's stomach.

And then Renji lifted his head, held Byakuya's gaze steadily and asked, "is this ok?"

Byakuya, past the point of coherency, could only moan his assent, fingers tangling in Renji's hair, and he thought that he had never wanted anything so much in his life before.

He did cry out when Renji closed his lips over the head of his cock, gently holding his hips to stop them from bucking uncontrollably. Slowly, torturously, he lowered his head, until Byakuya was completely engulfed by wet heat. When the tip of his nose touched Byakuya's stomach he stilled completely for an unbearable moment - and then he began to move and oh god, oh god-

His eyes closed involuntarily, head thrown back as Renji swirled his tongue around the tip of his cock, lapping up precome, and then swallowed again, taking him deep into his throat and humming softly around his length. Renji's hands left his hips, and one of them snaked further between his legs to fondle his balls. Byakuya soon forgot to even try and stay quiet; gasps and moans of pleasure were slipping freely from his mouth, and the hand not anchored in Renji's hair scrabbled vainly for purchase against the floor.

He was so close, so close. Renji's pace was relentless, licking and swallowing and humming as though no-one in their wildest dreams could have hoped for such a task. Somehow the knowledge that Renji enjoyed this amplified the pleasure, and each small sound of satisfaction the other man made drove him further out of his mind.

Sobbing for breath, every muscle in his body trembling violently with pleasure, Byakuya forced his eyes open, and the sight of Renji's head bobbing up and down over him nearly sent him over the edge. Renji had slipped his free hand into his own hakama and was working frantically, and then he moaned, a desperate throaty sound, and Byakuya unravelled completely.

"Renji-" He tugged sharply at Renji's hair, unable to formulate any further warning; instead of pulling away Renji plunged down, sucking in his entire length, and Byakuya gave a low keening cry as he came, hard, into the other man's mouth, wave after wave of pleasure tearing through him.

Panting hard and trembling, he collapsed back against the floor, and through eyes glazed with satisfaction he watched Renji jerk violently, his face contorted with pleasure, as he came into his own hand with a loud, desperate cry.

For a time after that, the only sound in the room was quiet panting as they both caught their breath. As his heart-rate returned to normal, however, Byakuya began to take note of a few crucial facts.

He was sprawled out wantonly on the floor of his office. His uniform was only half on. He had just crossed all boundaries of respectable conduct with his lieutenant. Who was drunk.

And who was propped up on one elbow beside him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Shit," said Renji, and his voice still sounded rather breathless.

"Er...indeed." Byakuya sat up hurriedly, rearranging his uniform as well as he could. The fabric was hopelessly rumpled.

Renji's smile slipped a little. "Shit," he repeated, in a rather different tone this time. "Taichou, are you…are you about to take off again?"

Byakuya hesitated. "I'm not sure," he admitted quietly. Things all of a sudden felt horribly, horribly awkward.

"I'm sorry. I guess...that happened without a lot of warning, huh?" Renji's eyes were acutely anxious, and Byakuya felt a pang of guilt and uncertainty. If only he didn't still feel so dazed - maybe then he'd know how to act.

"No, that's...that's fine."

Silence reigned.

At length, Renji cleared his throat. "Well, um…I should probably go get cleaned up," he said, his tone unconvincingly casual. "Kinda sticky."

Another sharp pang. "Of course," said Byakuya. He got to his feet, checking himself over to ensure his uniform wasn't a complete disgrace. "I daresay I'll see you tomorrow." His voice sounded so detached it almost made him wince, but he managed to keep his expression neutral. He didn't really know what else to do.

The walk back to the manor felt interminable.