Thank you EowynsPen, DarknessFlameWolf and Wordmage Kazzidae for beta reading as well as for Freya Sacksen for the Elizabethan English correction.
-dono = an honorific used for someone with equal or near equal status to, and hence respected by, the speaker
-sensei = literally, "one who has lived longer", the implication being that anyone older than you has experience from which you can learn and, because it's a Japanese word, that they should therefore be respected; when used in an occupational context, it means "teacher," but when used as an honorific, it is applicable to any professionals (not necessarily a teacher), and in the context below, it means "Doctor"
Kuge = Nobleman of the Imperial aristocracy; kuge outrank samurai socially but few hold actual political or military power
The fallen blossom never returns to the branch (rakkwa eda ni kaerazu) = a proverb which means "that which has been done never can be undone"
The flower goes back to its root (hana wa ne ni kaeru) = a proverb which means "all forms go back into the nothingness out of which they spring," or, in other words, a reference to death
The hour of a Serpent = between 10 to 12 a.m. (one hour in the historical Japanese time system is equal to 2 hours in modern time)
Kagome, kagome = a game involving children joining hands and walk in circles around the oni (demon) while chanting the song.
Ichiroheian wo inoru = Bon voyage, or more literally "I pray for a smooth road"
CHAPTER IV
A Broken Vow
Hisana willed herself to stop staring, but to no avail: her eyes refused to tear their gaze away from Byakuya.
'All this time, no matter where I go, a part of me is always with you.'
The young Kuchiki came closer, while the chambermaid could only stand stock-still, dazed by the unexpected encounter. Only once the distance between them had shrunk to no more than four steps did she manage to spur her feet to run.
'I did not know the true meaning of bliss until you came into my life.'
"Hisana-san!" the jet-haired man called after her, arms outstretched, desperate to grasp her ghostly figure.
The Rukongai girl kept on running, compelling herself not to turn back.
'I want to hold you, Byakuya-sama.'
Hisana's small strides, however, were no match for Byakuya's. He had no need to use shunpo in order to catch up to and even precede her. She struggled to turn away, attempting to break free, but he held her with ease. Even the scathing look she fixed him with could not persuade him to let her go.
He waited for her to calm down a bit before venturing to speak. "Hisana-san, please," he beseeched her. He took a breath before continuing in as polite a tone as he could muster, "Kindly tell me why you were running away from me."
She pushed forward lightly to test his grip, but it had not loosened. She sighed, aware that it would be of no benefit to avoid the question. Harshly, as to discourage him, she responded through gritted teeth. "An encounter with a Kuchiki brings me nothing but trouble. Please begone!" Her own words pierced her heart, and she bitterly hoped they had caused him half as much pain as they had her. It was for his own good that she sought for him to give up.
Byakuya paused, drawing an even breath before replying, "Hisana-san, I apologize profusely for the Kanman incident. Please, do not deny me the right to seek for you a cure."
The maid's eyes widened as she took in the implication of the young aristocrat's words. She soon averted her gaze once more, however, upon remembering that there was no cure for this particular brand of poisoni. "There is no need to give me false hope, Bya−" She faltered, then shook her head before starting over. "That is, Kuchiki-sama. I know very well the potency of this poison; my body reminds me each and every day. Please … just let me spend my remaining days in peace. There aren't many of them."
He had expected that she would be skeptical. Nevertheless, his stomach churned upon hearing that she also chose to estrange herself from him by calling his surname. She had begun to refer to him as "Byakuya-sama" after only a few weeks of their moonlight rendezvous in the bellflower meadow; it was an unexpected blow to hear her revert to the more formal address. In an attempt to reason with her, he began, "Hisa—"
"I wish to see you no longer!" she interrupted, close to tears.
Anger was a reaction Byakuya could understand, though her adamant rejection pained him more than he cared to admit. Even so, what truly drained the joy of reunion from his heart was the frantic, almost panicked edge to her voice—a quality unpredicted enough to make him let down his guard. The moment his grip started to loosen, Hisana, who had been waiting for this chance, tore herself from his arms and bolted.
It would have been easy for him to recapture her, but he hesitated, hindered by the fear of hurting her further. His arms flew out automatically, as if to reach for her, but then faltered, hanging suspended in mid-air. Instead, he allowed his voice, rasped with grief, to reach out to her as he forbade his arms to do. "Did you mean every word?"
To Hisana, his tone made all too clear what his words could not: He would be willing, if it was truly her wish, to obey her commands and leave forever. She had made her mind up long ago that such was the way it must be, yet something in her body compelled her to resist. She stopped her course. All she needed to do was say "yes" and walk away—it was as simple as that. So why could she not seem to bid herself to do so? Why did her lips remain sealed and her feet steadily planted on the ground?
After a moment of no reaction, Byakuya dared to approach slowly once more. When she still did not flee, he gently pressed his palms against Hisana's shoulders. "It is not sincerely your wish for us to separate like this, is it?" With even softer tone, he entreated, "Did my grandfather command you to do so?"
Hisana sucked in a quiet breath.
So his suspicions were correct. "I was wondering why my strict grandfather had had me released from the dungeon so soon," Byakuya mused bitterly, "So, this is why."
The raven-haired maid bit her lip. There was no use denying the truth now that it had been guessed.
"Regardless, I must keep my word." Hisana swallowed thickly, "Farewell, Kuchiki-sama."She turned from him and moved to get away, but before she could succeed, she found her wrist caught by a strong hand.
She swerved to meet his eyes, mouth open to utter a protest, but he spoke before she had a chance to make so much as a sound. "Did you promise to keep away from me for a year?"
"No, I—"
"Ten years?" he pressed.
This was the first time Byakuya had ever interrupted her and Hisana was so taken aback that she stumbled over her explanation, "N-no, I didn't say any specific time, but−"
This was precisely the sort of opportunity he had hoped for.
"Then you are not going against your words. You have kept your words by staying away from me until today. What's done is done. As for the future, you are not bound by any promise." A triumphant smile concluded his response—so enticing that Hisana's breath caught up in her throat.
"I—" Hisana faltered. "Kuchiki-sama, no. I can't. I made a vow to do anything within my capacity to stay away from you. Your loopholes do not include such an intent. I refuse to go back on my word, no matter how you twist its meaning." She shook her head, avoiding his eyes.
But Byakuya did not seem put off by this response—if anything, a renewed light shone in his eyes. "Anything within your capacity?"
His voice held a hint of elegant mischievousness, but Hisana did not pick up on the subtle hint soon enough. "Yes," she confirmed, suppressing any indignation in her own tone. Only the second after did her mistake occur to her—but by then, it was too late.
A small, yet unmistakable smirk graced Byakuya's features. Hisana held her breath in apprehension. When it came to force, what chance could a chambermaid stand against a male soldier? As he bent over her, she readied herself to push him away. Her power might be a trifling matter to him, but there was no way she would surrender without putting up a fight, however useless—if nothing else, she still had her pride.
The Kuchiki heir smirked fondly, lips slanting further upwards at her blush. Her insistently stubborn nature was what he most adored about her; she simply refused to give up. In this world, though, only he had the prerogative to make her heart flutter and he would be certain to use it to his advantage.
Nonetheless, no part of his skin came into contact with hers; he merely whispered to her ear, "In that case, Hisana-san, name your chosen subject. I challenge you in a fair competition. If I lose, I will abide to your request, that is, to let you stay away from me for as long as we live. Otherwise, you shall have no right to ban me from your side."
Hisana's mind spun, failing to notice even that her lips were parted in a gape.
"Wh−" Eyebrows knitted due to the strike of panic, the Rukongai girl glanced at her surroundings, trying to find a subject neutral enough for both of them—it would be just as unfair for her to challenge him in housekeeping as for him to challenge her in martial arts. They were in the middle of a busy street; what could possibly serve as a suitable subject for their competition? Hisana exhaled, closing her eyes briefly.
When the maid's eyes reopened, she voiced her resolution. "Kuchiki-sama, let us question each other a riddle in turn. The contest will end as soon as one of us fails to produce the correct solution."
"That sounds agreeable." He nodded.
They moved to one side of the road, where a tree, covered with moss and thick leaves, sheltered them from the effulgent glare of the midday sun.
"Then I shall begin." She recalled one of the riddles she had shared with her colleagues. "I have a square face and two teeth and three eyes. Who am I?"
"A geta clog," he answered almost instantly, and she regretted her poor judgment in selecting the riddle.
"I am the part of the bird that is not in the sky. I can swim in the ocean and yet remain dry. What am I?"
'Can such thing be?' Hisana only found a void inside her mind. She almost told him that she would give up when she noticed the shadow of the leaves was projected on his handsome face, causing his skin to become almost reminiscent of a map. Breathlessly, her mouth emitted three syllables. "A shadow."
"What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?" she asked when it became her turn again to challenge him.
Hisana could detect a light chuckle from Byakuya's mouth along with his reply. "A towel."
Upon uttering the next riddle, Byakuya eyed her tenderly. "I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven, dissolved into air at once on my birth. I evoke tears of mourning in the eyes that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief. What am I?"
Hisana gripped the edge of her kimono sleeve. She had gotten lucky with his previous question; no such luck graced her now. A tiny sound fell from her quivering lips. "I wish I knew."
"Smoke," he answered.
"My utter loss, Kuchiki-sama."
Hisana took a deep breath. Never before had a defeat tasted this sweet.
She stole a glance at the jet-haired man, who appeared to be fighting to suppress the tiny smile that lingered on his lips. But his eyes were looking at hers and the plebeian quickly averted her gaze, blushing.
The patrician ended the awkward moment with a clearing of the throat and a delayed pronouncement. "Come, allow me to introduce you to an acquaintance of mine who excels at the arts of healing."
Hisana was at a loss for words. Did he truly do this all for her benefit?
The two of them journeyed with no more words. She trailed a few steps behind him, more like a servant following her master than half of a pair of lovers, painfully aware of the difference of class between them. She was silent because she knew not what to say, and he was silent because he feared that hastily chosen words might hurt her.
Even so, with each step she took she couldn't help but to wonder why the surrounding foliage seemed more colorful than ever; why the rushing heat of summer was suddenly as gentle as the invigorating breeze of spring; why the Soul Society no longer anything other than a paradise somehow while in Byakuya's presence; and why something inside her soared with elation just to be near him.
'If only there would come a book, either emerging from the ground or falling from the sky, which holds all the answers for all these unexplained feelings!' An aching wish smoldered within the maid.
The journey Hisana secretly longed to prolong ended when they reached the fourth division's barrack, where Byakuya told a passing medic, "I wish to speak with Captain Unohana."
The fourth division officer told them to wait in the receptionist area while he fetched his captain.
Byakuya rose from his seat as soon as the senior woman appeared from the door, a few minutes later. "Unohana-dono, this girl has been infected by a life-threatening poison. Please help her."
'Unohana-dono,' not 'Unohana-taichou'—that was all it took Unohana Retsu to cognize that today Byakuya had come not as a colleague, but as a suppliant. Still, she failed to hide her surprise at the sight of a bowing Byakuya. Meanwhile, Hisana gasped; Byakuya—the proud Kuchiki Byakuya—was bowing his head while making a request.
"Raise your head, Byakuya-kun. A Kuchiki doesn't bow." The senior woman's voice was gentle as always, albeit laced with military discipline, but then her tone softened further and a smile adorned her visage. "I will of course do all I can to restore her health."
Thus, Byakuya and Hisana followed Unohana to the healing room.
The room was mostly white, Hisana gathered as she glanced around nervously. The many apparatuses—scissors and scalpels of different shapes and sizes, tubes of medicines, illustrated charts on the wall, files of medical records, weighing platform with height gauge and various machines the purpose of which she was unaware of—only escalated her anxiety. Hisana had never visited a physician before. While she had still been working for the kimono maker, in the occasion of illness, the ailing laborer would be provided with the cheapest possible medicine without any consultation with a health practitioner—such was the thrift of Hisana's former employer.
The fourth division captain took the younger girl's wrist in hers to examine the patient's pulse on the radial artery. The healer's amiable expression was immediately replaced by a concerned look, and as she took a deep breath, the sliver of hope in Byakuya's eyes died down. He had seen such an expression before; it was precisely the expression worn by each doctor that had ever been consulted over the health of his late mother. They had known about her what he must face about Hisana now: the disease was incurable. However, he knew that the physician still must state the verdict. It was the captain's responsibility now to tell him what he already knew.
"This is Shihouin's Kanman. I'm sorry. Throughout the entire span of toxicology, there are ten most potent poisons, and Kanman is one of them. It is a most irremediable poison, designed to be impossible to neutralize, not even extractable upon infection. There are too many holes in her organs, particularly the intestines. Her lower intestines can no longer be rescued, but the condition of her upper intestines is not too severe. Nevertheless, her kidney and liver have begun to cease functioning."
Unohana paused to let this sink in, then continued on with a softened tone. "I will implant some reiatsu to bring forth an inner barrier which will decelerate the poison's spreading process, but she will still feel the pain from the poison inside her from time to time. Even so, what has been lost remains irreplaceable. At the very best, her lifespan is only extendable for one or two years. I am going to give her some painkillers, but they will just numb her sense of pain; they won't heal Hisana-san." The look of pity in her eyes was such that Byakuya forced himself to look away. He had seen that look too many times before.
Hisana's first, detached, thought was to laud Unohana's medical skills—drawing such thorough deduction after only a couple of seconds of skin contact—but the words of praise died on her tongue, tears swiftly taking their place. Quickly, Hisana cast her gaze outside the window. Just as drifting clouds that will recur day by day, Byakuya-sama's world will keep on revolving without me, she told herself hollowly.
Then, the girl felt a brush of fingers across her cheek. She broke her contemplation and saw the fourth division captain wiping her tear. With a wistful smile, she spoke, "This … this … I'm sorry, Unohana-sensei. I shouldn't cry. I knew that I didn't have much time left to … live … and since weeks ago I've told myself to be ready…"
"One cannot simply tell one's self to be ready for death." The woman in white haori advised her patient.
Hisana hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks, but new streams gushed from her eyes.
'Unohana-san is right. I want to live.'
'Why must I leave a life with Byakuya-sama's presence in it?' She tried her best not to look at him.
'I can't die now.' She clenched her jaw.
'I don't want to…'
"I'm sorry." In spite of Hisana's words, the tears wouldn't cease.
The older woman held her by the shoulder with one hand, producing a handkerchief in the other. "It is natural to feel frightened when faced with such a prognosis."
Byakuya remained in his seat, clenching both fists and biting his lip until it bled. What was power? What was status? They could not help him saving the woman he loved.
The golden afternoon sun had set forth westwards by the time Byakuya and Hisana left Gotei 13 compound for the Shihouin mansion. There was no animosity between the house of Kuchiki and that of Shihouin, but no one could deny that the two houses were not as close as they had been when Shihouin Yoruichi had been the head of the family.
Looking at the grand sepia gates, the young Kuchiki suppressed a sigh. Years before, how contemptible the sound of "Byaku-bo" had been in his ears, but now he would rather hear the phrase from the Shihouin leader's insolent mouth than any other.
Hisana was required to wait in another room while Byakuya spoke with the current Shihouin head. He did not need to explain; she understood that she would have had to have an exceedingly good reason to seek an audience with the head of an aristocratic family. She was not even permitted to wait in the main building. Instead, she was delegated to the servants' quarters.
Unlike the shinden-zukuri based Kuchiki mansion, Hisana gathered, the Shihouin one adopted buke-zukuri—a simple and practical style that truly befitted kuge military aristocrats. There were additional quarters for the special assassination squad members with a saikusho armory within reach. An ayagura keep towered erect on the front yard and torches were stationed around the gardens so they could be lit as quickly as possible.
The servants' quarters buzzed with as much flurry of activity as a beehive. Hisana watched them curiously, noting that the age of the servants ranged from teenage to elderly. At one point, three girls slightly younger than her brought her chilled mugicha barley tea and a large slice of watermelon. She thanked their generosity and intended to talk to them, but an older woman soon came and scolded them for putting off their chores. For the remainder of the time, Hisana simply sat and continued to nibble at the fruit, watching the busy workers bustle to and fro. The never-ending stream of people served as an adequate distraction for the anxiety she , Hisana watched the clear-glassed wind chime hung on the verandah. The fūrin just stayed perfectly still, refusing to let out any tinkling sound thanks to the absence of the wind.
When an hour had passed, Byakuya emerged from the mansion, wearing a frown sharp enough to pierce armor. He had expected that even the Shihouins could not do much against their own creation, but this did not satiate him. While walking in the garden on his way to fetch Hisana, gait unattended to and mind clouded with deep contemplation, an unfamiliar voice happened to reach his ears. He paused momentarily, realizing after a moment that the voice was quoting the Kokin Wakashū poem:
"Utsusemi no yo nimo nitaru ka [Indeed how they resemble this fleeting world of ours!]
Hanasakura [The cherry blossoms.]
Sakuto mishimani katsu chirinikeri [No sooner do we gaze at them in bloom then they have scattered.]"
The accent used in the recitation was purely orotund with an aristocracy that had been lost for generations; not even his grandfather possessed such accent. Byakuya turned in the direction of the voice in curiosity; no member of the Kuchiki family would ignore any reference to sakura.
On the other side of the large pond, on a rock, sat an elderly man who, in terms of age, was far superior to Kuchiki Ginrei. Showing no sign of debility, he repeatedly tossed small bits of pellets into the rippling pond and chuckled as the koi fish battled each other over each piece. A curious, discoid object lay atop his lap.
The wizened man smiled at Byakuya, geniality gleamed in his eyes. "As a nonpareil yet delicate cherry blossom is destined to fade and scatter before the face of winds, so too is the happiness of Kuchiki's life fated to be short-lived."
The young aristocrat stared at the senior man speechlessly, as wonder seized his heart.
"Alas!" the Shihouin elder went on, tone laced with compassion, "The fallen blossom ne'er returns to the branch! The flower doth go back unto its root; the girl's soul shall wither before the vapouresome moon of the fifth spring riseth unto high heaven."
Byakuya furrowed his brow, carefully repeating the words in his mind until there was no mistake as to their intended meaning. 'He would have me believe that Hisana-san will die on a spring afternoon, five years from this day.' Heclenched his fists. 'But how could he possibly know?' The young Kuchiki ventured closer carefully. He glanced again at the object in the man's lap, realizing that what he had thought to be a disc was in fact an icosahedral copper plate. At each of the plate's twelve edges was inscribed a different symbol of the oriental zodiac, and in the center a yin-yang gleamed.
"Even so, i'faith, there is but one way to ease her pain," continued the white-haired man. The last pellet of dried fish food had long left his hand, and now he was examining his onmyō astrolabe of copper; his long, thin fingers shuffling its inner circles until they became aligned in such a way that their meaning became significant, though only those well-versed in the art of horoscopic feng shui could discern the difference.
"In the year of the Horse, in the seventh month, on the nineteenth day, at the hour of the Serpent, she must receive a ritual inside an onmyō circle." The old man's face was darkened by the clouds of sorrow. "Know this: the revival of her health is neither within my knowledge nor capacity. 'Tis within me to extract the Kanman and ease the pain, no more."
'That is three days from now,' Byakuya realized after a painstaking pause to convert the date system into the current conventional calendar. Dizzied though he was by the implications of the senior man's instructions, he stepped toward the stranger. For an aristocrat and a soldier's standard, his movement was too hesitant. The thought whether he should trust the shady figure whom he had never encounter, but so knowledgeable of the Kuchiki's state of affairs encumbered him.
"Young Kuchiki, I am known by the name Tomohide. I am the younger brother of the head of Shihouin three generations back; I am also the one who should be held most responsible for the change of Kanman into its irremediable state. A most significant favor I owe thee in thy erstwhile reincarnation … something that thou currently no longer recollects, but has truly betided nonetheless. The stars have ordained that 'tis ripe time to return the favor, O childhood friend of the most brilliant great granddaughter of my sibling, Yoruichi—so that the one thou holdest most dear may suffer no more from my creation.
The blood inside Byakuya boiled. For one fleeting moment, his reiatsu flared, and his heart was seized with a murderous rage. If only this man had never existed, Hisana wouldn't have suffered from that accursed poison.
The moment such a thought crossed his mind, however, Hisana's serene figure appeared to reject it. Just the thought of her eased his fury somewhat, and he forced himself to consider this calmly. After taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he uncurled his fists, forced to admit that Hisana would not want him to react this way. Even without Kanman, Ginrei would undoubtedly have found away to tear his love away from him, he reflected. The Shihouin elder had been both brave enough to admit his part in her illness and kind enough to offer to ease Hisana's pain. He deserved his respect, and he would receive it. The young Kuchiki swallowed his anger, and with it, the last trace of fury in his reiatsu calmed.
Tomohide fixed his gaze on Byakuya, smiling through his wise eyes as he dipped his head in a nearly imperceptible nod of gratitude, as though he had sensed the change in his emotion. "At the set time," he instructed calmly, "Bring her forth to the Fujitsubo Wisteria Courtyard, at the rear of the mansion. I shall await thee."
The old man smiled amicably and nodded, returning to his horoscope reading. Understanding that he was now dismissed, Byakuya turned away once more, recommencing with his previous path, head heavy with thought.
Before he reached the servants' quarters, however, Byakuya decided to make adetour seeking the Shihouin seneschal and arranged for transport, reasoning that Hisana had already had too much walking for one day. When the horse-drawn carriage came to view, however, it was not met with relief. Rather, Byakuya was concerned to see Hisana's face pale and tense, as though filled with a fresh horror.
"Is there something bothering you?" Byakuya asked with some concern.
A light flush painted Hisana's uncomfortable pallor. "I…" she tried to begin. "With vehicles … um…" Her words trailed away, for he was most likely the last person in the Soul Society to whom she wished to reveal this phobia.
Byakuya walked past her. She stared at his back, her heart plummeting. What if he grew to dislike her for this weakness? In the early days, it had been easy for her to reveal her flaws, such as that she was not the type of person who loved her parents so dearly as most. But at that point, her situation had not been nearly as precarious as it was now, and she feared that her phobia would only be further incentive for him to leave her.
That was not what the young Kuchiki had in mind, however. He released one of the horses, a black stallion, from the carriage yoke and walked it over to the anxious maid. "Would it be suitable if you ride this horse with me instead, Hisana-san?"
His generous reaction to her fear startled her. "Y-yes," she stuttered, a rosy tint blush creeping over her cheeks.
After instructing the Shihouin coachman to return the carriage to its kuruma-yadori shelter, Byakuya assisted Hisana into the saddle as courteously as he could. Hisana was painfully aware of the awkwardness of her mounting technique, but became even further flustered when his hand brushed against hers. She could only pray that he could not hear the rapid pace of her heartbeat as she sat in front of him, although this was likely an idle wish considering the closeness of their position.
"Is this your first time riding a horse?"
"It is."
"There is no need to be as nervous."
"I'm trying not to be." She bit her lip. But how? The bounces of the horse's gallop inevitably led to physical contact between them in which her back constantly met his diaphragm in embarrassingly intimate frictions.
'At least I have one advantage … he won't be able to see my blush from this position,' she calmed herself. 'A man's torso is harder than I thought it could be.'
Byakuya, on the other hand, held the rein tighter than necessary. Fear of lacking self-control swallowed his whole being. The girl of his dream had just been reunited with him; the last thing he wanted would be losing her trust because he—a healthy young man—behaved indecently. He kept his hands off her, but secretly inhaled her hair, indulging himself in its rich aroma. This much he would allow.
The journey was a flurry, yet, among other things she remembered how his heartbeats synchronized with hers. The happiest moment in her life came in a blizzard.
'Why must torment be so sweet?' She questioned herself inwardly. 'Since someone as incredible as Unohana-sensei cannot heal me, I doubt the Shihouin elder will find a better luck. But even if the cure fails, do I care if I should die so long as I might meet Bykuya-sama again?'
Only after they had reached the Paradise Inn, and he helped her dismount from the black stallion, was she free from the intoxication.
"One more thing," she hurriedly spoke as he mounted the stallion once more, the gleam of her eyes landing perceptively on the insignia encircling his right sleeve. "Congratulations on getting promoted, Vice-Captain Kuchiki Byakuya."
The addressee smiled. He had encountered heaps of troubles because of this very matter. After all, he used to hold the fourth seat in his division. When the former vice-captain had died in action, many people, himself included, assumed that the vacant seat would be given to the current holder of the third seat, but it had been assigned to the fourth instead. Those who did not know him well accused him of being the target of favoritism, insinuating that he obtained the title because of his grandfather's nepotic authority. He had received neither prank nor protest, but most soldiers resented obeying to such a young leader, especially in lieu of their respected captain. Even this afternoon, his fellow sixth division soldiers had been slacking off when he called upon them to assemble in rows.
Yet, all this bitterness was swept away by her single remark.
###
On the appointed day, Byakuya escorted Hisana to the Wisteria Court of the Shihouin mansion. At their arrival, the shouji door slid open and Tomohide, habilitated in sooty black tate-eboshi hat and immaculate white jo-e ceremonial robe, came out.
When the old man greeted them, Hisana stared open-mouthed. She had never met anyone with such archaic language before. A tinge of worry pierced though her heart: what if she could not comprehend the Shihouin elder's speech and he became irritated because of her nescience?
In the center of the yard was a hexagram of salt, marked by a freshly picked twig of evergreen on each point. Hisana recognized hinoki cypress and kansaki cedar among them, but she could not identify the other four species.
"Within the circle, turn thy head eastward, and lie!" Tomohide instructed Hisana.
"Why east?" Hisana blurted out, and then immediately covered her mouth with her hand. "Forgive me, sir; I didn't mean to question your expertise."
The Shihouin elder smiled kindly. "It's alright, young one. It is natural to be curious of the nature of things. West is where the sun sets—the direction of death—and you, my child, are seeking for life, its exact opposite. But do remember this: once you enter the ritual circle, no communication is to be established at any point during the ceremony."
Unfamiliar as she was with the concept that a patrician like him could possibly regard a plebeian like her as equal in status, Hisana could only answer very meekly, "Yes, Shihouin-sama." She glanced at Byakuya before entering the hexagram of salt.
The young Kuchiki looked tense but gave her an encouraging nod. He stepped aside and watched in silence as the onmyōji, who stood just outside the circled hexagram, began to chant a long incantation and sprinkled Hisana with purifying water by means of a holy sakaki sprig.
Tomohide released the sprig, but instead of falling to the brown earth, it stopped in mid-air, ankle-height above the ground by Hisana's head. The girl stared in awe at the hovering sprig, not able to tear her gaze away even to look at the white zigzag paper strips swaying above her, obeying the rigorous shakes of his harai-gushi ceremonial flail.
Suddenly her sense of smell sharpened intensely. It was as though Hisana found herself surrounded by many trees in the forest with bedewed grass on her feet, the scent of each plant redolently distinct in the strong breeze.
When the old man let go of the harai-gushi, like the sprig earlier, it floated close to the ground, but near Hisana's feet instead. This time, too preoccupied with the strange new sensation of scents, she took no notice of it.
Subsequently, Tomohide took a stack of blank paper from the inside of his sleeve. Each paper was cut in the shape of a person, and together they formed a circle in mid-air, like children playing Kagome, Kagome, but silent.
Midday approached and the rays of the summer sun stung her skin, but Hisana resisted movement for fear of disrupting the ceremony.
Tomohide ceased his chant. On a windy day like this, the silk sashinuki ballooned trousers fluttered about him with each graceful stride he took. He walked along the perimeter of the arcane circle, making nine stops whilst performing a hand position of kujikiri or Mudra of the Nine Cuts accompanied by a monosyllabic mantra on each. At each pause, one shikigami paper talisman drew itself from the floating circle to assume a position hovering above the ground in the space the onmyōji had occupied just previously. After all the "rin," "pyō," "tō," "sha," "kai," "jin," "retsu," "zai" and "zen" had been enunciated, the nine shikigami were stationed on nine points on the perimeter of the circled hexagram of salt. Combined with the sprig, the harai-gushi and the onmyōji himself, they made a total of twelve pillars—each representing the oriental zodiac.
Tomohide resumed his chanting and Hisana felt a thousand ants crawling just beneath the surface of her skin. A rushing heat urged her arteries to gush her blood forth; only, when something did come out, it wasn't blood. It wasn't liquid at all. It was letters.
Hisana gaped in disbelief as the myriads of letters seeped out from every orifice, down to the very pores of her skin. The tiny black letters—which, she realized in a moment of recognition, were the kanji for 'Kanman'—crept over the ground, all headed to a transparent vial which Tomohide produced from his other sleeve. Once inside, the tiny splotches merged into a single large Kanman kanji and the Shihouin stopped the vial with a cork and sealed it with ofuda amulets.
"Thou mayst come out of the circle, child," the white-haired man instructed the raven-haired maid, "Thou shall not feel any difference, but from now on, the pain from Kanman shall visit thee no more. I did extract the poison from thy flesh. However, the injury has been done; the damage is irreparable. Time shall worsen thy wounds, and it shan't be long 'til death comes for thee; I have but given thee five more years of life."
"I will treasure these five years you have granted me, Shihouin-sama." Hisana bent in a deep bow. "Thank you so much."
Byakuya, too, thanked and bowed to Tomohide before leaving the mansion with Hisana.
On their way back, they let nothing but silence preside over them for a while. Then, when their feet had carried them to the edge of the bellflower meadow, where they used to pick the dyeing ingredients, Byakuya spoke, "Hisana-san … I wish to apologize. It was I that led you to this situation, and yet I have been able to do nothing of use to rectify it. I am truly sorry, for that, and for everything."
The wind rustled. Every time they had visited the meadow previously the light had been at its dimmest, so it was only now that they saw the place in its full glory. The hills in the background basked in the warm palette with which the sun painted the sky, their bedewed caps glittering, while the trees below reflected the radiance of the heavens, gently swaying their leafy heads in deference to the wind.
She smiled at him gently. "Byakuya-sama, there's nothing to apologize for. You have done more than enough."
But the Kuchiki heir stared through her as though she were nothing but a ghost, something no longer alive nor breathing.
Bracing herself, Hisana reached for the young aristocrat and placed her pale fingers on his cheek. "I am truly happy to have met you in this life."
The touch of her flesh felt so real. The sound of her voice captured his entire attention. The wind that traversed the cloudy sky looming above them urged him to move closer, to kiss her, to leave at least one happy memory between them, a milestone of sorts, before she died.
He stepped forward, though not without hesitation. He realized it was his indecision that caused her to blush so deeply. He paused. It was the last shred of his conscience that held him back. While she showed no sign of protest, he knew that she deserved better than a whim—their first kiss deserved something special, a grand setting, a perfect moment.
In the end, he walked past her and knelt to pick one bellflower, making a silent oath in his mind as he did so.
'My duty is dedicated to the Gotei 13; my honor is bound to the Kuchikis; but my love solely belongs to you, Hisana-san.'
He stood up and turned, presenting the single flower to her.
'And it will remain so even after your light has faded from this world.'
She accepted his present with a beam of delight and a shy thank you.
Byakuya smiled back and they continued their journey home. He had no courage to promise her anything at this rate, but he swore to himself: 'these five years, Hisana-san, I will make you happy … even if it's the last thing that I do.'
Unfortunately, no sooner had he vowed for her happiness then cruel fate allotted another plan for her.
Ginrei's henchmen had not stopped spying on Byakuya. What he had done for her for the last few days only provoked the head of the Kuchikis to arrange a marriage for his grandson, regardless of his consent. The chosen bride came from an illustrious lineage whose blood purity was unquestioned: the Imaidegawa family.
There was, undeniably, indignation within the gleam of the young Kuchiki's eyes when his grandfather informed him of the arrangement in the gakumon-jō study room. Nevertheless, his reply was composed—too well composed, in fact. "Jī-sama, for the Kuchiki's sake, the wife of a Kuchiki leader must be someone deemed worthy. Notwithstanding, we, shinigami, are not infallible ourselves. Would it not be fairer to leave the judgment to the ancient wisdom of our heirloom?"
The wizened man's eyes narrowed. "Are you referring to the Shinjitsu no Kagami? You know well that no one has managed to find this Mirror of Truth in Seireitei for centuries."
"Because it is not located within Seireitei, but in the human world. I have verified this from a trustworthy source; however, in order to retrieve it, I still need a captain's permission to leave the Soul Society."
The senior shinigami's eyes narrowed; he came to realize that his grandson had been waiting for this opportunity. Ginrei then rose to his feet and approached the cho-dansu at the other side of the room. This wooden cabinet was composed of rich wood grain of keyaki panels and hikite door pulls of the sliding doors that contrasting the overall plain array of lockable kiri wood drawers.
His heart hammering, Byakuya watched his grandfather opening one of the drawers and pulled out a sheet of paper.
The wizened shinigami returned to his low writing desk. Only after he had put down his stamp did he handed the document to Byakuya. "Very well, you have my permission."
After the young Kuchiki bowed and retreated, bearing the written permit to leave the Soul Society, Ginrei tried to put the bitter memory to the back of his mind. If only that mirror had been available at the time he chose his prospective son-in-law, it would not have chosen Kōga—whose insatiable lust for power then tainted Kuchiki's far-famed name—and hence, no daughter of his would not have grieved over the exile of a husband. But then, Kuchiki Byakuya wouldn't have existed accordingly.
Shinjitsu no Kagami—the Mirror of Truth—used to be one of the Kuchiki heirlooms, along with the kenseikan and the silken ginpaku kazahana no uzuginu which was still hung around his neck. However, the mirror had been stolen in the time of Ginrei's grandparents. Ginrei had been a child of seven at this time, and had witnessed the entire council of Kuchikis bustling in panic over this grievous loss. Having seen the mirror, he would know if Byakuya, intentional or not, presented him with the wrong item.
The mirror was a respected judge of character, possessing a unique characteristic. Upon any person's reflection in its glass, they either passed or failed a simple test. Were the holder deemed worthy of being a Kuchiki, a small six-petal sakura would appear by their reflection. Hence, it became a tradition for any important member of the council, let alone the head of the clan, to 'test' his or her prospective partner using this mirror. Should the candidate be deemed not worthy enough, the mirror would show only the candidate's reflection, nothing else.
No matter how many military reports Ginrei read afterwards, his mind told him only one thing: his grandson had grown up from a short-tempered stripling into a fine adult.
###
Hisana was twirling the stalk of the bellflower Byakuya had given her the day before when a child's voice called from outside her bedroom. "Hullo, anybody there?"
Earlier that morning, a servant from the Kuchiki household had visited the inn, ordering a thousand dishes of seared yellowtail for the heir's wedding banquet, which would be held seven days from now.
"Just seared yellowtails?" Hayate, the chef and inn's proprietor, had confirmed.
"Yes, we order other dishes from many different inns and restaurants," the Kuchiki servant had answered.
Placing a hand at the back of his head, Hayate smiled sheepishly, "Gee, I never knew that my seared yellowtail was famous enough to be served in a Kuchiki banquet."
Hisana, who had been slicing some vegetables in silence at the kitchen corner, mused, 'There's no need for the Kuchikis to order the food from this inn. So this is your unspoken warning to stay away from my grandson, Ginrei-sama? My hands smell of cabbages and scallions; your granddaughter-in-law's hands must smell of perfume.'
She ought to let Byakuya go. She really should. And yet, at the news of his upcoming wedding, her heart granulated into dust.
'Byakuya-sama is the pinnacle of the society; it is only natural that his wife-to-be is someone of an equal standing.' No matter how many times Hisana repeated this statement in her mind, her disappointment would not disappear.
Besides, why would she, who had been standing on the threshold of death, have any need for romance?
"Does someone called 'Hisana' live here?" The child's voice called again from the other side of the door.
Torn out of her reverie, she wiped her eyes and approached the door, pushing her bitter reflections to the back of her mind. "Yes, I'm Hisana."
An unfamiliar little girl with a missing front tooth stood just outside the doorway, the owner of the young voice. She handed her a bellflower and said, "A young man is waiting for you at the nearest bridge from here. This flower is from him."
"You're lucky, nee-san," the child added as Hisana rushed for the exit. "Your boyfriend is not only charming but generous. He gave me a week's worth of candies just for delivering such a simple message."
Wasting no more time, Hisana hastened her steps toward the bridge. There, amidst the passing pedestrians, she spotted Byakuya standing in a travelling cloak.
Hisana hesitated. What could Byakuya be here for? Surely he hadn't decided to disobey his grandfather? Did he have intentions to … abscond?
'No,' she decided. 'Byakuya-sama should know better: with the extent of the Kuchiki's influence, it would not be difficult for Ginrei-sama to trace us and bring his grandson back to the Kuchiki mansion … and perhaps behead me afterwards.'
Hisana took a deep breath and began walking towards Byakuya as calmly as she could. Though she grew nearer with each step, he had yet to so much as glance her way. Her heart began to sink miserably, instantly suspecting the worst, but she forced herself to go on. If he decided to give up on her, it would be for the best—the right thing to do.
As she reached the arched red bridge, she steadied herself for his dismissal, only to be met with silence. Byakuya looked straight ahead, but treated her as though she had not existed. Her eyes widened as he glided past her, for in that split second, she felt their fingers touch. The next second, he was gone. She stood still in disbelief, then belatedly noticed something in her hand—the feeling of a crease of paper. She lifted her hand and unfolded the note with great care. After reading it over and over to be sure there was no mistake, she clutched the paper to her bosom.
"Believe in me," it had said. This was the first time she saw Byakuya's handwriting. It took no calligraphic artist to acknowledge that his every brush stroke was a state of art. She had prepared herself to treasure this as the first and last handwriting he had ever given to her when a thought made her ponder: Why he did not choose "farewell" or "forgive me" instead.
'He hasn't given up yet,' she realized, dazed. Though he was now out of sight, she gazed in his direction and murmured into the wind: "Ichiroheian wo inoru."
'Beneath a thousand leaves, I shall wait for you; under the sun and under the stars, rain or shine, amidst the snow and amongst the dust. Byakuya-sama…'