Chapter 2: Chapter 2

AN: Ha, chapter one was crappy. Like author, like story...?

It was now fairly understandable to me, what the 'nonsense' I couldn't get out of my thoughts was. The way Byakuya moved. The way he walked. Hisana took a step sideways; his body shifted to match her, like some sort of guard dog. Though comparing him to that is an insult - and Kuchiki-sama had a lot more grace to him than a dog, I must add - it's a fitting description, if I do say so myself. He also displayed that cold, detached sort of aura, and I knew what it meant; aristocracy, and of the highest sort.

I suppose that's how most servants and all of his co-workers in the Seireitei viewed him, it probably didn't even occur to them that the truth was much different. I observed Byakuya - I saw the uncertainty inside of him, eating through his mask like sickness. Like the sickness that pulled Hisana-sama from this world, bit by bit.

She was fond of me. She was fond of practically everyone, and as you might recall, on my first meeting with her I was rather starstuck. A few months had passed since then and I soon came to the realisation; Hisana was fond of everyone equally.

She didn't favour me over the others, though I got that impression at first. Her kind smiles, doe eyes (hm, almost sounds like I'm describing myself) - all this made me see her as so wonderful and gentle, for me. Yes, she was - however seeing her interact with the others was exactly the same. By others I don't mean just the servants. I also mean Kuchiki Byakuya himself. Her lord and husband - I swear, in the times I listened in on their conversations, as I mentioned I would, I never heard her call her anything but 'Byakuya-sama'. 'Byakuya-sama is so good to me', straight to his face.

In my life, my encounters with men were limited, since I focused on my profession more than on anything else, and I usually only worked for them, so I can't say I'm an expert - but there was no intimacy between Hisana-sama and Byakuya.

It dawned on me; she didn't love him, never loved him, liked him a lot of course, but never truly felt anything deeper for that man. That poor, poor man.

In my pride I quickly understood how much more I had than him. That in turn only enforced my somewhat arrogant behaviour, and being around him in itself made it worse. He was irritated when he first noticed. He sent me unwelcoming glares when I poured him tea.

Because in all truth, the man was a poor, adorable, constantly perplexed. I saw that.

Byakuya drank vanilla tea. Not because he liked it. Through experimenting with his snacks, I learned he disliked all things sweet in taste. He drank it because Hisana drank it; and sometimes, on the days he spent alone in his dimly-lit study, he'd just have the tea stand there on his desk for scent alone.

I pitied him. He saw it in my eyes and he hated it. He hated my condescending attitude, which worsened, as I've said; and in the first month of my work, there'd been a few instances on which I thought he'd tell me to leave. He never did. Why was a little unclear, but, hypocritical as it may seem, I didn't investigate in any way. Not that I had many ways. I just really didn't want to actually be fired, so I didn't push it.

Time was what forced him to get used to me. It took a year for him to finally accept me, as I was - and in the duration of that year, twelve months (in case you didn't know), I secretly began learning how to write.

You see, I'm not as mighty as I make it seem. The truth is, what he said to me that day... that question, if I could write, bugged me to no end.

I began subtly. No one knew sign language, so I needed to use the 'other' sign language - the one that usually involves drawing on things and gesturing frantically, rather than using the neat, graceful way of communication which I originally, in my younger years, used.

"What the hell do you mean?", Kiri stared at me with doubt in her round eyes, her face tanner and with more freckles than I remembered. The look she was giving me made me feel like a complete idiot - which I hated, to be frank - but I continued to try, as I knew she was fond of me.

Many people were fond of me.

I tried once again, raising one hand and making scribbling gestures on it with the other. Then, I gestured at her, and forced the question into my eyes.

"You're asking if I can... draw?"

I used the universal gesture for so/so. Kiri let out a sigh, tired after a long day's work, and began to turn around - I stopped her in time, grabbing her by the shoulders. I could feel the muscles under her skin. Compared to her I was a weakling; and I wasn't that skinny or fragile. Kiri was simply that king of girl - sturdy, like the daughter of a farmer. When she dressed in the dusty pink kimono to serve Byakuya and Hisana-sama at dinner, I often had to hold back a silent laugh. She looked out of place at those times, and when she'd return to our shared room, she'd almost rip it off and say something like: 'Kami, I hate this shitty piece of cloth! It'd serve better as napkin or something, damn it!'

Oops, got a little carried away in my storytelling. Kiri was now onto something.

"You mean writing, then? You're asking if I can write?"

A series of cheerful nods.

"Well, I'm sorry, Mizuka-chan... but Hana-san never taught me. She… sorta… knows, though, ask her? Just don't bother me anymore", she collapsed face-first into her mattress, which clearly signalled the conversation was finished. I left her in peace; it was late, and we both needed some rest.

As I lay peacefully, quietly, with my eyes fixed in the dark ceiling somewhere high above, I found an odd peace inside me. Kami, I was glad – I had a chance of learning how to write now. Though I tried denying it at first, my pity for Byakuya was slightly deeper than just that. I wanted to surprise him. I wanted him to maybe see… that I actually had nothing against him? Surely, by now he saw some kind of mean half-child in me, even though I'd grown. I didn't want him to dislike me. I simply wanted to show him all of my aspects.

Where was I even going with this? I sighed, rolling onto my side. First of all, this feeling I had for Kuchiki Byakuya-sama was (I told this myself) a mixture of admiration, compassion and maybe… the desperate need to be acknowledged? Where was this even coming from?

I pulled the cushion out from under my head. It was getting oddly hot.

I calmed my nerves. I was not some child, even if some thought that, and I was not going to be unprofessional. I took my duties very seriously, as Byakuya and the other servants had now found out on multiple occasions. This matter was going to remain inside me, waiting for better times.

"Hisana-sama is calling you", said Hana-san one day, close to a year after I had those thoughts for the first time. "She is in the garden."

In the garden. In the beautiful, beautiful Kuchiki garden. I walked through those beautiful walls of white flowers, pale as death itself, yet so mesmerising. Something in this charm… something reminded me of Byakuya. After all, he'd planned this place himself, so why shouldn't it? This place showed more of that more vulnerable, gentle side only his home saw. He might have been a merciless fighter on the outside, but home always brought out his true colours. It is like that with everyone, I suspect.

I dropped in a bow, greeting her.

"Oh, Mizuka."

She began coughing nastily, and though I had my doubts as to her person, I immediately ripped forward to hold her up. She was a small, delicate little thing. I could see how someone could love this innocence. Her kind eyes; full of mother-like love. Though it wasn't my place – ah, since when did I care – I immediately thought that perhaps Byakuya married her because of this. After all, it was common knowledge he'd never known a mother's hand.

"I'm alright, I'm alright", she said to me, gently moving my hands away. "I just wanted to ask Mizuka something."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

"Kiri was tending to me the other evening, and she mentioned something about Mizuka taking writing classes with Hana-san.", she continued. I responded with a brief nod, averting my eyes. Lying should be easy in my situation – how hard is it to fake a nod or a shake of the head? – and it usually was, but how could I look her in the eyes and confirm I'd been doing something solely for her husband? Because of her husband?

Love aside (for she did not love him; this much I'd figured out and was going to stick by) it didn't feel right. Perhaps, had it been another wife, and another husband, I wouldn't have cared. Hisana-sama, however, was a good, ill woman that life had treated unfairly. How could I not feel guilt, knowing I was beginning to do things… just because of him, cursed Kuchiki Byakuya?

I'd also noticed she'd dropped the –chan. I was pleased. It was plausible she'd understood I was her age, if not slightly older, despite my appearance. Speaking of which, Kiri still called me that… but that was Kiri. How could I ever get upset over that?

"Why did Mizuka decide on this? If Mizuka would like to tell me, of course.", she leaned forward slightly. "Long ago?"

I nodded, gaze fixed in the ground.

"Did Kiri suggest it?"

Shake.

"Then maybe my Byakuya-sama?"

Her Byakuya-sama. Her– quickly stopped myself. I wasn't angry. I wasn't supposed to be angry. Maybe I'd been wrong, and she did love him, just…

Having completely lost my ground, my thoughts scattered. I forgot to nod – but she'd figured it out herself, already. I saw understanding in her huge, violet eyes.

"I see. Well, from what I know, Hana-san's skills are sadly not on a… remarkably… high level", she desperately tried to sound polite. I didn't see what she was getting at. "So… Mizuka, I could be a teacher. It's the least I could do to repay for all the nice things Mizuka has done for me."

My lips fell open. Proud or not – in that moment, she was an angel. I realised, the negative feelings that had begun growing in my stomach were wrong.

My knees bent under me and I sat on the ground, bowing in the most respectful way possible, with my hands rested on my thighs and my forehead almost touching the grass. Hisana-sama. She saw how much I wanted to write – even if she didn't realise I only wanted it because… - and she was going to help me.

No, this woman would have never married a man she didn't love. She wouldn't have done that to anyone.

"It appears the girl has some manners to speak of."

Shocked out of my skin my the sudden hearing of Kuchiki-sama's deep voice, I scrambled to my feet and faced him. For a few horrible moments, all I could do was stand there, face expression still frozen in that odd place between thankfulness and disbelief, and then finally I managed to channel it into an eruption of joy. I laughed soundlessly, looking him right in the eyes, pride successfully back.

"She's only glad because I offered to teach her how to write", Hisana spoke softly.

Byakuya's eyes widened ever so slightly, lips parted a millimetre. He looked at me, quite dumfounded if I say so myself, and it would have been an amusing view. Actually, it was. My smile soon became that of a person who inwardly mocks reality, and Byakuya was now unsettled.

I could see, same way others could see into my eyes, that he remembered that question he asked me back then. He knew perfectly well it was my reason to pursue this.

Him. It was because of him.

"She's a golden helper, Byakuya-sama.", Hisana said, looking up, into his eyes. "Byakuya-sama surely sees how much."

Now there was a dubious smile pulling at his lips, as he glanced between me and her. He was surely analysing just why I was so arrogant towards him… and so meek when with Hisana-sama.

Maybe it was because I couldn't toy with her like I did with Byakuya. Did I just say 'toy'? Oh, Kami. I pitied him, yes, but he wasn't going to die because of an unrequited love. Hisana-sama's illness was killing her, physically. I could not…

I was a maid once. A maid in a merchant's home. The merchant was a round, happy man who loved moving coins about in his hand. He had a knack for finances, quite obviously, and made a good business – that's why he wanted a maid. He had the money, you see, and every 'good' house needs a maid. He had no woman in the house – the wife had run away long before my arrival there, with some hunter perhaps. That I never found out, or maybe simply couldn't remember. Either way, the merchant had a young son. A beautiful boy; with pretty, yellow locks and green eyes.

Byakuya was still looking at me in his shock. He didn't let it show, of course, but I'd been watching him for so long now. I knew. And I also knew he wouldn't understand why I had this weak spot. Why…

The beautiful boy was terribly sick. It was a disease incurable; I knew that, yet in the two years I spent at that merchant's home, I did all in my power to keep him alive. He was such a smart, lively little brat. And not 'lively' in the meaning of a boy that runs around and jumps and does all those things little boys do. He had lively eyes and a huge imagination. He lived through adventures where he fought as a Shinigami; and he told me those stories sometimes, quite oddly. Shouldn't it be the maid to tell the children stories? But how could I? How could I, when…

"Mizuka?"

I blinked, surprised by his sudden call. I stood to attention, realising I'd let myself get lost in thought. Unsightly. Unprofessional.

"You seemed… in a far-away place, just a moment ago", Byakuya spoke, brows knotted on his forehead. Hisana was looking at me as well.

"I wish Mizuka could tell us what she's thinking."

Soon I will, I blurted out with my hands, before I could help it. Byakuya glanced at the gestures, as if concentrating for a second, then simply shook his head and turned on his heels. Before he left, however, I heard him quietly say:

"I as well."

Time passed quickly after that. A year, followed by another one; filled with Kiri's bright eyes, Hisana-sama's peaceful lessons and Byakuya's...

His power, his uncertainty, all the contrasts I saw in him. Head of the Kuchiki clan, and somewhere, deep within him, the shadow of a boy he once must have been. A boy without a mother, with a huge responsibility hanging over him. In that time I didn't yet realise how much Byakuya would come to change; I thought him cold, but there were still moments when he smiled.

He smiled at Hisana, of course. I brought them their vanilla tea and I listened, and I watched; I watched his eyes trace her face, her hands, delicate and white like those flowers from the garden be had made. Had it been a gift to her, maybe? That I couldn't know. There was no way for me to simply walk up to Byakuya and demand a conversation via pieces of paper.

What I hadn't taken into consideration, however, was that he would come to me.

I was just preparing a shopping list and a basket to take to the market, leaning over the kitchen table in a simple white dress, when his quiet footsteps echoed in the hallway. I straightened up and there he was - glancing to the sides like some sort of very prissy, very proud, cornered animal. He then (finally) turned to me.

"Do you have a few minutes to talk to me, Mizuka?", he asked in a smooth voice, with words he always had prepared. When he spoke, I ever-so-often go the impression he was reading out of a notebook.

I raised two fingers and smiled over my shoulder, then put a napkin in the basket and moved it about until it sat nicely. There. Aesthetically pleasing.

"It was... my intention to inquire... as to the progression of your education."

Well, that was needlessly complicated, but I'd gotten used to it over more than two years. I smiled at him and nodded quite happily, as a bunny would, then grabbed my basket and walked out. Duty called! However, Kuchiki Byakuya-sama followed. In an awkwardly rushed manner, because let me tell you, I do not waste time when shopping. He was soon back to my side, looking flustered, but still with the intention of talking to me.

"As I have mentioned on multiple occasions, I am truly curious as to what hides behind that smirk you wear on your face.", he said in a tone that suggested slight discomfort. "For a servant, I find you quite interesting."

For a servant. I snorted. Kuchiki Byakuya, that was a graceless faux pas. Had he not noticed how proud I am? And this being a rhetorical question. He must have noticed.

"I... apologize. That was not meant to sound that way. How tactless of me."

This was the first and last time I heard Byakuya speak normally. It surprised me right out of my grumpiness, and I was staring at him with o-shaped lips once more, basket over my arm and that being the only reason why I didn't drop it. He blinked, equally surprised, then shook his head. We had now come to the city, and Byakuya was recieving curious glances - I, in turn, wished deeply that I could start humming something.

Oh the satisfaction of seeing him out of his enviroment, so helpless. To someone unaccustomed to the way his facial expressions worked, it would have passed unnoticed - but I could read him. And it was glorious.

"From what Hisana has been telling me, I take you are an exemplary student."

I nodded.

"Quite so that you have mastered many kanji, and hiragana?"

I peeked at him, and - a little shyly, I suppose - shook my head. Byakuya turned his head to look at me. It seemed as if he wasn't used to looking at the person he was talking to, which was problematic in my case - he needed his eyes fixed on me at all times if he wanted to understand anything out of what I was meaning. Sure, maybe people would talk if they saw Kuchiki-taichou making his jolly way through the market with a woman at his side, and without taking his eyes off said woman at that, but nobody forced him to come along. Indeed, I spotted even more curious glances in his direction - but now, I needed to buy tomatoes.

"Katakana then, perhaps?", he inquired. Hisana must have explained to him that conversations with me were basically guessing my thoughts. That's why I had so little friends. Also, my personality. Of course, they were all fond of me, but it was a fondness unaccompanied by actual feeling. They did not like me. It was just Mizuka, the mute girl.

Nodding at Byakuya, I proceeded to show the keeper of the stand with fresh vegetables what I needed. He gave Byakuya a shocked stare, stood there for a few moments, bowed, and then prepared the groceries that I'd asked for. Meanwhile, Byakuya took a look around. It was Sunday, making the market a busy place, with more than one thief scurrying around in the crowd; I knew for sure not one of those thieves could get to him, but my hand rested on my own pouch. The place was also alive with scents and colours - grains, different, beautifully red spices, cloth on sale. Fresh fruit. Somewhere in the background - bad fish, but well, that was always sort of there. Byakuya took this all in, and though his face showed no emotion, he was interested. I was glad.

I paid and took my basket. We continued further into the crowd.

"This place is... full of life.", he complimented.

Quickly, it struck me that he must see the mansion as something different than the servants. He really didn't have contact with all these wonderful places, like me. His home was filled with death. Lurking in the shadows, waiting to take away the one woman he loved. Once more, I felt pity rising up in my heart and making it squeeze shut.

I touched his shoulder to get his attention (he'd been looking around a bit too much, and I needed to signal something), and he shivered, surprised. Though at first he seemed almost appalled - well, I'd literally just touched a taichou's haori, Kami - he quickly remembered I couldn't do it differently. Sorry, I thought at him, deal with it.

Then, I proceeded to show him, using various gestures, that we should go to the perfume stand.

I was hit by a wave of smells - so beautiful, all at once, they made me swoon. Byakuya wrinkled his nose like the fussy princess he was.

I soundlessly laughed at him, but he (thankfully) didn't notice. At least I thought so. Even if he did, he did not scold me, or even look at me unkindly. With a new kind of patience, he let me sniff all the bottles. This was something for myself, really, and a... well, not a very honourable thing to do. The thing was, Hisana-sama always smelt of vanilla. She smelt so beautifully, like home, like family, and I wanted a scent for myself as well.

It had nothing to do with Byakuya... it didn't.

Pointing to the one I wanted, I reached for my wallet, but - before I knew it - Byakuya had paid for me. With eyes undoubtedly the size of plates, I looked at him, to which he offered a tiny twitch of the corners of his lips.

It was a warm, friendly gesture. I understood, in that moment, I wasn't just an intriguing annoyance to him. I was a companion.

AN: Hopefully this turned out better than the last one... sigh. Please leave me a review and let me know what you liked and what you disliked. You'll only improve the story by doing so!

thank you dearly for reading, and see you soon.