The sinned Lady Kuchiki is desperate to find her sister. This desperation caused her to make a single mistake- one that could cost her her marriage. Was being raped by another man worth anything? Infidelity and abandoning her sister... the Kuchiki Elders' cruel words were right, after all...
Thank you for reviewing!
Sunshine187: Hahah yeah it's rather intense, but then I realized that ByaHisa is a really intense pairing! It's not light-hearted at all, and yet I'm just crazy over it! Thank you for wanting more, I just hope the 'more' doesn't dissatisfy you! XD Thanks for your support!
Rose Attack: Thank you for your compliments! I'm glad you find this story nice enough- because I really wanted to continue this! Thank you so much!
Snikee- Thank you for being so nice! I was actually scared the infidelity idea would scare off people. I just want to say, not just to you but to everyone that Hisana was raped, and it was not consensual sex!
Ryuu613: Awww, thank you for saying such wonderful stuff! I'll try my best not to disappoint you!
Meichan: Hahah yes like I said to Sunshine187, ByaHisa is a really intense pairing to me! Seeing it in a light-hearted way would be cool too, but canonically I personally think they would be rather intense! Thank you for taking the time to review, and now that I updated, please love me forever! XD just kidding. But thanks anyway!
The room was deadly quiet save for the slight panting of a man leaning over a table in a defeated slump. Sweaty strands of his dark brown hair were draped over his crumpled forehead, his fists curled over the edge of the table, fingernails digging into the hard wood. The lone sheathed length of his zanpakuto lay against his drawn knees, metal against fabric. He stared blankly at the stretch of table before him, expression unfathomable, knuckles white. The only source of light came from a flickering candle, and the few slivers of moonlight streaming in through the windows.
His companion eyed him sympathetically, although it was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was picking his nose. "Cool it, man," Sako said, grunting as he pulled a finger out of his hairy nostril. He, too, wore the shinigami robes like the silent man. "Everyone has failures. Your captaincy test was just one of them."
"It was his fault," Kento finally spoke, his voice shaking with emotion. Hatred. "If not for his words, Captain Yamamoto would definitely have considered me. I have the abilities, I know it. But that Captain Kuchiki…" He trailed off, the rage in him too strong to finish his words.
Sako sighed, the noise rumbling off his throat. "This ain't just about your abilities. Everyone knows Captain Kuchiki is hard to please. So don't beat yourself up about it. You can try again, after all." He didn't, at all, realize the immensity of Kento's dream to be a captain.
"Sure," Kento said bitterly, hand leaving the table to clutch the hilt of his sword. Despite his slumped form, there was something sinister and threatening in that gesture. "There's a captaincy test only when there's a vacancyfor a new captain. How long do you think it will be before that opportunity offers itself again? Not to mention that my having been rejected is going to leave a stain on my record. Kuchiki Byakuya ruined everything."
"Stop being so melodramatic," Sako glared at his companion, now scratching his beard. "I understand things are hard for you now, but you're still a Third Seat. You just have to bide your time for a while before taking the next step. I'm sure next time you won't be so unlucky to get Byakuya Kuchiki again as your judge."
"I've decided," Kento said, not listening to Sako at all, but just staring in mid-space. This time, there was nothing blank in his expression at all. It was filled with the intensity of hatred, eyes glimmering and mouth pulled back. The flame of the candle lit up his features in a crimson glow. "I'm going to make Byakuya Kuchiki pay."
Sako burst out laughing. "Sure. It's like a mouse trying to make an elephant pay. Don't be foolish, Kento."
"Rats," Kento said quietly, "can be dangerous too."
Hisana stared emotionlessly at the full body mirror by her dressing table. The long sleeves of her pink yukata hid all the way to the fragile wrists of her hands, concealing the bruises and wounds that were inflicted by the bartender on her white creamy skin. The garment fell smoothly to her small feet, and her white haori granted her a deeper sense of false security.
Security... that was a word she felt so distant from. She certainly had not experienced that yesterday, lying alone in the large, comfortable yet disconcertingly empty futon last night, staring at the moonlight washing the shoji doors in a silver glow with dry eyes, blankly reliving the memories of her writhing, anguished screaming form as the man took her violently.
Even then, she could feel a stinging in her body that had nothing to do with her wounds. She felt unclean, and the urge to bathe for the third time surfaced once more. Her eyelids fluttered to a brief close, the dainty eyelashes stretched out across her delicate features, and she held herself carefully. There was no losing control. She had learned that much from him.
The filth staining her form was not one that could be washed away.
The shoji door rustled lightly as a female, meek voice sounded from outside, and Hisana turned quickly, her pale lips drooping slightly at the corners of her mouth. Vague pain assaulted her sides at the simple motion, and she winced. Her wounds were far from healed.
''The master is home, my lady,'' the maid outside informed her politely, and Hisana could make out the respectfully bent silhouette rippling against the shoji door.
''Thank you,'' she replied softly, her heart thudding as large, violet eyes glowed. ''I will be coming at once.''
The female maid left, the faint footsteps of her socked feet thudding against the polished timber floor. She did not, especially not from outside the door, see the anguished expression on her mistress' face.
Outside the room, the servants were going wild as they crowded around the tall elegant, dark-haired man standing by the entrance. His slate grey eyes were expressionless beneath beautiful long eyelashes. The angular, striking features of his unreadable countenance were elegant and exquisitely sculpted.
The servants practically tossed themselves at their beloved head of the noble family, eager to please. The old man, who served as the butler, bowed respectfully before his master.
''Byakuya-sama,'' he croaked softly, shrivelled frame bent, ''Welcome home. It has been a long week without my lord's presence.''
Byakuya's head tilted ever so slightly as he carelessly regarded his butler, before silently turning away once more, dark smoky grey eyes probing the crowd before him searchingly, expression yet unchanging. It was no mystery, however, who he was looking for.
The waves of people parted abruptly as a tiny woman appeared before him, her head lowered demurely. ''Byakuya-sama,'' she greeted softly, a small smile on her face. ''Welcome home.''
The servants watched with bated breath as she approached him, her small hand outstretched to gently rest on his arm.
She could feel the warm sleek firmness beneath her palm at where she touched him, her pulse quickening, and forced herself to meet the piercing grey eyes steadily. The Kuchiki servants simply watched on mutely, now still and unmoving, as their tiny lady guided the Head of the family along the corridors, who followed her silently with graceful, long strides. The maids looked on with slight envious gazes, hands perched together. It was true that none of them ever expected or even dared hope to consider catching Kuchiki Byakuya's eye. He was an impossible conquest, just a beautiful god whom they could admire reverently and bask in his presence from where they stood, and that was it. And one day, he would marry a noble lady and she would become their mistress whether they liked it or not. What they definitely did not expect was for the man, who was about as emotionless as an ice cube, to pick a peasant from Rukongai as his wife.
How was it fair that they, who had worked under him and served him for years, had received less than a glance from him in all their life, and yet in a month's time when he was in Rukongai, he had immediately married her?
The Lady was a soul heavy with grief and unspoken secrets, they could tell. It was amazing how that petite frame was capable of shouldering such mysterious emotional burden. The maids could still remember the first time they saw the woman, tiny along the curve of the master's powerful arm from where the enigmatic new couple stood at the entrance of the mansion, lightning crackling across the jagged sky behind them.
She was so small in stature, the violet eyes large against her oval white face, skin even paler than Byakuya's, and there was a small, stark smile on her lips that did not reach those liquid eyes, the violet pools shimmering with an emotion they could not comprehend. It resembled sadness and happiness mixed in simultaneously, if that was even possible. And then they had seen lightning strike once more in a white, nearly blinding flash, illuminating Byakuya's grey eyes, soft and almost tender for the first time in years as he gazed at the girl, his features, ever so slightly, no longer as rigid as before.
The master had fallen in love.
Hisana fought the urge to bite her lip as she entered the room, her footsteps light and dainty against the wood surface of the tatami mats lying out across the floor. The serene tinkling of wind chimes reverberated somewhere outside. He was right behind her, she knew, and even then she could feel his intense gaze burning into the back of her head. She was a nervous wreck, pregnant with the mix of turbulent emotions swirling within her. One particular emotion was joy. He was home, Kuchiki Byakuya, her anchor, and the man she deeply loved and depended on more than anything else in the world. Her only anchor, to be honest. She missed his embraces and his love, and above all, she missed him.
And yet the darkest, most heavy emotion clouding her heart was fear. She was scared, so very terrified. It was a silly emotion to go with the joy she felt at the company of the one man she trusted more than anyone. But she was afraid, afraid at what his reaction would be if he knew what she had done…
But did she have to tell him? She could delay the unpleasant things for now, and to just wallow in his return and presence, temporary as it might be... Yes, Hisana Kuchiki was running away from the truth again, much like how she had run away from her little baby sister. Only it would similarly one day return to haunt her, she was aware, as her body ached terribly from the injuries coating her skin like a morbid reminder. Wanting to hide her wounds from the servants, she had simply washed them thoroughly with bathwater, flinching at the bitter pain of the crystal, pure liquid lapping over her hot, bloodied gashes. The woman did not want to consider what could happen for neglecting to administer the proper treatment. Asking for medicated oil would definitely attract a torrent of concerned questions from the household.
For now, they lay concealed beneath her intentionally long robes. She did not know how long she could hide things from her alarmingly perceptive husband, but she would try.
"Here," Hisana said softly, moving behind him quickly and ignoring the sting it brought to her injuries. She lifted her hands to softly grasp the back of his captain's haori, reverently gazing at the sleek, tall build of Byakuya. Sudden memories of the bartender's muscles contracting as he reached to slap her invaded her mind abruptly, and she nearly choked. The woman held her breath, gently removing the robe from Byakuya's relenting shoulders, and was glad that he couldn't see her face.
She neatly folded the haori and placed the material onto the tatami mat, and her breath hitched as she gazed at the innocent double futon bed next to her. Everything reminded her of the bartender's violation right then, and just the same as with her little sister, she couldn't escape sin's persistent grasp.
"What's the matter?" A deep baritone spoke calmly behind her, and she jumped, realising that she had been frozen for a few seconds. The pain of her wounds made her stiffen slightly at the brisk movement.
"It's fine," she replied gently. What was with her? Why did she have to let down everybody who was dear to her? There were few of them, really, mainly Byakuya and her sister, and she knew that only made them all the more precious. "Would you like me to serve you some tea?"
She forced a smile as he eyed her, his expression unfathomable. The shrewd, beautiful grey eyes watched her with a sort of tranquillity that she had no hope of ever achieving within herself.
"Proceed."
His voice was as blunt and impenetrable as ever.
Relieved, she rose almost unsteadily to her feet and approached a small round table near the shoji doors, picking up the clay kettle gingerly. It was full and heavy with the tea she had risen early this morning to prepare. Not that she had really slept in the first place…
She pulled a bamboo cup near, and cautiously tilted the kettle above its brim. Since when had the kettle been so heavy? She could feel the thin bones of her wrist straining painfully as she poured; the woman had hardly faced difficulty carrying out this task before, but now the gashes along her arm seemed to burn through her flesh. Recently, even before the bartender, such mundane tasks tired her. It sent shame washing her in a painful flow across her veins. A non-shinigami Lady of the Kuchiki House was at least expected to carry out said tasks and birth an heir… Currently, she had been facing challenge for the former and failing at the latter.
Finally done, she set the kettle down, and picked up the steaming filled cup. The refreshing aroma of well-made tea filled the air copiously, and she stifled a sigh of relief at the one task she had so far excelled in…
Hisana stretched out her arms towards her unreadable husband, her offering respectfully raised towards him. His long, graceful slender fingers curled, not around the cup, but around her bony wrist. Her head jerked in surprise, and she watched with wide eyes as he removed the cup with his other hand. He set down the cup beside him, and turned to her calmly, still not releasing her wrist.
And then, with a speed so blindingly fast his fingers were resting on her eyelids. Her cheeks flushed and the fuzzy images of the bartender gripping her face roughly whipped through her mind like a whip. She flinched. Only, Byakuya's touch was so soft, so tender and it made her want to weep at the difference.
With simple, swift strokes, his adroit fingers brushed some of the heavy foundation coating her eyelids, revealing signs of the puffiness and eye bags she had worked so hard to conceal this morning. She gasped at how easily he had unmasked her, and tried not to look at the thick beige streaks of make-up on his digits.
"You have not being sleeping well." There was something almost accusing in his unruffled demeanour as he looked down at her. Lustrous dark strands of hair slipped past the perfect curve of his chin with an elegant tilt of his head. His voice, however, was as placid and collected as always. Only Byakuya could accuse someone with such a disinterested tone of voice, and yet pull it off. Hisana felt her heart somersault in apprehension. "And you have been crying." His voice lowered, and she was not sure if it was tenderness or sternness that laced the eloquent timbre of his voice. Perhaps both…
She forced another pained smile on her white face, and she understood the unspoken question that hung in the air between them.
She was to explain herself.
"My latest trip to Rukongai, Byakuya-sama," Hisana finally answered shakily. He had no idea how close she was to the truth. "My search… was fruitless." And it indeed was, for she had not found her missing sister. She had only omitted certain… circumstances in her answer.
She stiffened as his arms reached out and gently brought her into his embrace. His warm virile scent of fresh rain flooded her nose in a soothing wave, but she could not bring herself to enjoy it… Her head rested against his hard chest, the silkiness of his robes rubbing against her cheek. "Perhaps luck will reward you next time." His voice was low and even, but she knew that he was genuinely pained at her pain.
It was terrible. She couldn't… couldn't rest in his embrace when she had betrayed him and lied to him… The contempt she felt towards herself rose so powerfully at that moment that she felt bile gather in her throat. So sickened by her own existence, she pulled back away from him almost violently, biting her lip deeply. His slanted eyes widened minutely, his long arms lowering, and she smiled bitterly. This time it was a certainly genuine smile.
"I'm sorry," she said, turning away. "Would you like me to prepare the bath?" For once, her voice was as emotionless as his.
He observed her carefully. There was something that was just not right. From the first time since she appeared before him today, her head bent meekly, there had been something too forced about her demeanor. And her movements were stiff—such changes were extremely subtle, but his keen sight as a soldier and as a lover had caught onto it at once—and for that slightest moment, he had seen fear flicker across her face as she peered at him.
It had angered and worried him beneath his tranquil semblance. Hisana? Fear towards him? That was unheard of. It was true she looked up to him and respected him, but that was not fear. What had she to fear? Did she not recognise him as her protector and lover?
Something was certainly wrong, and he knew it.
She had gone over to the bathroom, and was currently screwing the sturdy taps open despite his silence to her question. He watched from the door as a tiny wince crossed her shoulders, her small delicate fingers gripping the tap. Crystal water gushed out and poured into the bathtub with an announcing roar.
She stretched out a hand and placed her palm inside the liquid to test its temperature. He strode silently up behind her, robes billowing. She was crouched by the hard edge of the tub, the fine, elfin features of her face screwed up in concentration at her task.
''Bathe with me as well,'' he commanded in measured tones, large slender hands reaching out to remove her long robes.
She started at his words, and her body bent over abruptly as she snatched her robe quickly away from him, a coughing fit seizing her diminutive frame. Almost immediately his arms were around her protectively, pulling her to him as she convulsed in his arms.
His worry rose tenfold.
''I will be calling the physician,'' he said evenly, not allowing his concern to seep out. She needed him, not for him to panic, but for him to be her strong support. The man pressed a tender kiss on her trembling head.
To his surprise, said head whipped up in alarm, and he met wet violet irises. Tears streaked her cheeks as she violently choked out a single word.
''No!''
-PPWSOT