Bruise purple sky arched from horizon to horizon. Naked and barefoot, Byakuya stepped carefully through piles of bleached bones, searching the dead ground for… he didn't know what precisely, but something to give this aimless wandering through his inner world some kind of purpose. There was nothing, of course, just yellowing grass well-trampled into mud just like he would find everywhere else. Unchanging, no matter the time he spent here or the distance he travelled. It was the same, always the same. It would be so easy to lose himself entirely, to drift until his body failed, adding one more pile to this sea of bones.
So easy. So peaceful. There was no one to miss him. No one to care anymore. No one to hold him.
Except Renji.
A sudden swell of panic shot through Byakuya. He surged to his feet, frantic gaze seeking the horizon for that one point of difference in this world. And found it, rising above the bones like the prow of a ship, tall and proud. The battle tent; the manifestation of Senbonzakura's woundless zone, and the only place here that Byakuya could consider himself entirely safe.
Or had been, when there was spirit enough to move the dead from their endless rest. Perhaps it wasn't needed so desperately any longer. Perhaps he could simply walk where he willed without worry, exploring this endless inner landscape until he came to the end of himself.
A shrill alien trilling sound jerked him back into the real world. The television burbled in the background, Renji's constant companion these past few days, since the last time Byakuya had lost control and tried to steal his zanpakutō. Since then they had exchanged perhaps twenty words, and those had been no more than the simple everyday courtesies needed to share space with another being.
Their bedding too had developed the habits of strangers. Instead of a single futon, they slept separately with the table between them. A wall of sorts, Byakuya supposed.
Not that he blamed Renji for keeping him at arm's length. After what he had tried to do, Renji was surely within his rights to protect himself.
"Today?" Renji was saying, his voice a solid comfort against the harsh and demanding tones of the television's news reporter. "What time?" Pause. "Okay, yeah. At the store. Sure, and…" Another pause, this one uncomfortable. "Thanks for doing this. I owe you guys, big time."
Byakuya opened his eyes to Renji hanging up and tucking the phone in his front jeans pocket. When he felt Byakuya's eyes on him, he looked over and their gazes met. It hurt to see the echoes of fear in them, and the words, 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you', hovered on Byakuya's tongue yet again.
Except, what meaning could such an apology hold when Byakuya had no actual memory of what had happened, except that he had lost control somehow and done awful damage to the man he loved. And that the reiatsu chains and 'hooking' sensation Renji described were terrifyingly akin to the powers of his uncle's zanpakutō.
Why those powers should reside within him after Senbonzakura had fled, Byakuya didn't know, but it scared him. To think that he could hurt Renji so badly and not be aware of it. What if he should one day wake from another of these episodes and discover Zabimaru in his own hand and Renji emptied out at his feet? No, he would rather die than allow that to happen. Renji's recourse to this fake body as a form of imprisonment was a boon he should be grateful for.
The silence between them grew until eventually Renji blinked and looked away. "That was Mizuiro, a friend of Ichigo's," he said, pushing himself up from the table and rising to his feet, all power and animal grace. "They might have got something for us. A job, somewhere to live."
Somewhere that wasn't this place, with its blank walls and odd pressure that even inside the gigai made Byakuya feel like he was continually riding the cusp of a storm.
"Do you know where and what?"
Renji looked at him again, briefly, a flickering gaze that hardly seemed to see Byakuya at all. "Does it matter, so long as it's not here?"
That was a very salient point. Byakuya pushed himself upright, taking a moment to allow his legs to recover after so long sitting seiza. How many hours had it been anyway? The clock on the television news indicated it was past three o'clock, which meant he'd missed lunch again. Strange that he no longer felt hunger. Not for food. The only emptiness that moved him now was the hole Senbonzakura had left in his soul.
"We're meeting by the convenience store in half an hour," Renji was saying as he leaned over the table to pick up his sweater, the one with the strange white streaks on the sleeves and chest. He yanked it on over his head and flipped up the hood. Having his head covered that way made him look almost like his normal self, although the short hair was no longer the shock it used to be. Byakuya was almost starting to grow fond of it, especially the softness and how stroking it made Renji melt under his hands.
"We, as in both of us," Renji added, an ill-concealed snarl to his voice.
Byakuya was going too? It was such a surprise that for a moment all Byakuya could do was stand and stare at Renji. He could count the number of times he'd been out of this room since they arrived on the fingers of one hand. Or at least, he thought he could. The days blurred together in his mind, a colourless timescape punctuated only by vivid moments of terror.
"You'll need your jacket." This time there was definite annoyance in Renji's tone. Trying to co-operate, Byakuya turned to look for his outdoor wear, only to have it thrust at his chest by a glowering Renji. "Come on, we need to get going."
Once they got past the first floor, the corridors outside the safe room were busy. Byakuya did his best to keep up with Renji as he wove through crowds that seemed to part in front of him like magic. The looks he garnered were all of fear and intimidation, though Renji appeared not to notice them. He simply kept moving, his shoulders lowered and his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans.
Unfortunately Byakuya was given no such regard and consequently was left navigating the wake of Renji's passing like a duckling behind a particularly determined mother duck. After one especially busy intersection where Byakuya was caught the wrong side of a trolley travelling flat out and surrounded by white clad medics, he lost sight of Renji completely and had to rely on shaky memories to take him to the main doors.
As he came round the final corner, he literally ran into Renji who was coming back the other way. Byakuya bounced off him, and the next moment found his shoulder caught in a vice-like grip. "Where the hell did you go?" Renji growled in his ear and then gave Byakuya a little shove so he was walking ahead. As they moved, his grasp shifted from shoulder to elbow so Byakuya was being escorted towards the exit as though he'd been arrested.
Renji only let go when the security guard outside the hospital gave them a strange look and took a step towards them. Not knowing what else to do, Byakuya gave the man a polite nod. It seemed to work since he gave Renji one more suspicious look and then returned to his post.
"We need to keep a low profile," Renji said once they were clear. The unimpressed growl in his voice suggested Byakuya had got something wrong again, though he wasn't sure exactly what. This human world was so different and moved so fast that he sometimes felt like his brain was molasses.
Their route to the meeting place took them over a high fence which took Byakuya two attempts to climb. The gigai might be an excellent mimic of his body's movements but it wasn't completely perfect and being stuck inside the safe room for the past two days, he'd not had the chance to practice anything strenuous.
When he almost fell down the other side, having misjudged the inherent strength of his grip with no reiatsu to call on, Renji actually looked concerned. "You okay?" he asked, catching Byakuya out of the stumble with a grab to the back of his jacket. As he pivoted to regain his balance, Byakuya's hand landed flat against Renji's chest, and for a second they just stood there beside the railway-tracks with their arms around each other, staring into each other's eyes.
It was the closest they'd been in days and all Byakuya wanted was to stay there, safe against the warm solidity of Renji's body, feeling that strong heart beating beneath his palm. He wanted to say, 'Hold me, you're my only anchor. Without you, I'm scared I'm going to drift away', but this was neither the time nor place for such a conversation. If he could bring himself to speak of it at all. To do so would be to confess the entirety of it; Aizen, Muramasa, Senbonzakura.
Pain lanced through Byakuya's chest and he pushed Renji away, gasping as agony doubled him up. It was the phantom pain of Shinsō piercing his heart, but normally he never got it out here. This was something that came only in his inner world.
"Taichō," Renji was saying, his touch gentle, worried and comforting on Byakuya's shoulder. But the title wrapped down around Byakuya like a stifling mantle, suffocating him in responsibilities he couldn't hope to fulfil, not anymore. Not with Senbonzakura gone and his soul bleeding from this never ending wound.
Despair drove fists to lash out and guided his tongue into viciousness. "Take your gaki hands off me!" he roared, coming up swinging. He made contact with something that made Renji grunt and Byakuya went after him like a crazed animal, shoving and punching, feeling Renji stumble in the face of the onslaught. And along with the violence, out poured the words. "Stop calling me your captain! I am not your captain! Don't you understand! That's all gone, all dead!"
The slap took him by surprise. He staggered back, snagged a heel and landed on his backside, a dull stinging ache blooming across his cheek.
Renji was glaring down at him, breathing through his nose like he was fighting to keep control. He was rumpled, sweater pulled out of shape at the neck, the bright yellow T-shirt showing beneath. A deep red mark marred his jaw.
When Byakuya didn't move, Renji yanked his sweater straight and snarled, "Fine. I was only trying to be nice, but you know what, fuck it! And fuck you! I'll see you at the store, when you've decided to be someone who's not a total dick." He strode away and the only thing Byakuya could think as he watched Renji clamber up the other side of the embankment was that Ichigo's language was rubbing off on him.
For some reason, the idea struck Byakuya as funny and a sharp bark of laughter escaped, quickly smothered by the back of his hand pressed against his mouth. But the laughter wouldn't stop, huge gouts of it rushed up his throat, making him choke as he tried to swallow it back down. And then it wasn't laughter any longer, but sobs. He was crying, out here in public, where anyone could see if they just looked down the embankment, and there wasn't anything Byakuya could do to stop it.
Pressing fist between teeth in an effort not to make a noise, not to attract attention, the tears spilled down Byakuya's cheeks uncontrollably. His nose ran. His throat hurt so much that it made the whole of his head ache. All he wanted to do was lie down and sleep, to close his eyes and let this incomprehensible world go on without him.
But life wasn't kind enough to allow him that. As he wept, a thunderous sound built in the distance until eventually the tracks beside him began to tremble. A train. And he was far too close to the tracks.
For a moment he was tempted. It wasn't like Renji really needed him anymore, he had Ichigo. They'd muddle through together and maybe with Byakuya gone Ichigo would find some way of getting Renji's crimes forgiven, let him return to Soul Society and get back to living his life.
He could do that. All he had to do was stay where he was, and it would all be over.
And what of Senbonzakura? Would his death free the zanpakutō's spirit from Aizen's clutches? Not necessarily. Kōga was long dead but Muramasa still remained. In part, true, thanks to Byakuya's own devisings, but also through the will of the spirit itself. Would Senbonzakura be the same? Would ending his own life not free Senbonzakura but simply condemn them to at eternity of servitude at Aizen's hands with no hope of rescue?
He dove for the bank, and not an instant too soon. The metal monster thundered past, the ground shaking from the sheer power of it. Heat and wind sucked away breath, noise blotted out everything else. For a few seconds the world narrowed to pure survival.
Byakuya came back to himself on hands and knees, the tracks several yards behind him, shivering and somehow still very much alive.
Humiliation washed over him. How far had he fallen, to be grovelling here in the filth. If his family could see him now- But no, they were family no longer, as he was Kuchiki no longer. He was simply Byakuya, as nameless as the children from Rukongai and, since he'd landed in a puddle, apparently just as dirty.
He wiped the worst off his hands on the winter-weak grass, before looking around for something to clean them with properly. There was nothing to be had, just like there was nothing to wipe his nose with, so he rubbed his palms on the legs of his already dirty jeans and used his sleeve for the other before climbing to his feet.
This state of affairs could not be allowed to continue. Finding some way to reclaim Senbonzakura had to made a priority. But first, he had to find Renji and apologise for hurting him. Again.
It was the same pink car as last time. As it pulled up, Renji pushed off the wall, and watched as both front and back opened and Mizuiro and Keigo piled out, slamming the doors closed behind them. He caught a glimpse of Chizuru as she pulled away, but either he missed her wave or she hadn't bothered. Probably the latter. Renji didn't think she liked him very much.
"Hey," Keigo said with an easy grin. "Better meet and greet than last time, huh? I see you've still got the stripes to show for it."
He gestured at the front of his sweater and Renji glanced down at his own, at the remains of the white sticky residue from the tape. He swiped a self-conscious hand over it, knowing it made him look even more like an outcast than before. "I wasn't sure how to get it off. Soap and water didn't work."
"That's no good. Try some WD40," Keigo replied, managing to confuse Renji completely.
Mizuiro gave Keigo a narrow-eyed look before turning his attention to Renji. "Where's your friend," he asked, glaring at Renji suspiciously and, considering it had been them who'd come to Renji and offered to help this time, that seemed a bit off. But then again this was Mizuiro. Mister Taser, himself.
Renji looked back towards the train tracks, and found an extreme lack of fucked-up not-your-captain-anymore type people heading in their direction. He huffed a sigh. Maybe he shouldn't have left Byakuya behind like that, but seriously, Renji was not a damned punching bag, and it was about time Byakuya got that into his head.
"I'll go get him," he said with a jerk of his thumb.
"If he's that way, we'll just pick him up on the way." Mizuiro, who was looking less thug and more salaryman today in his dark grey suit and tie, walked straight past Renji before stopping to look back. "The place we're headed is downtown, so we'll need to catch a train."
What downtown meant exactly, Renji didn't know, but since he couldn't stop the two boys coming with him to find Byakuya, he didn't even try arguing with them.
They met Byakuya coming over the top of the embankment. When he saw him, Mizuiro's steps slowed. "That's the shinigami captain?" he asked.
"Yeah, I know right. He looks kind of girlie for the guy who's supposed to be in charge."
Keigo's comment was so similar to his own thoughts when he and Byakuya had first met that Renji was taken aback for a moment. But back then, Renji had been an inexperienced kid and the captain had looked younger than he did now, so seeing him that way had been understandable. Now, it was unthinkable. In Renji's eyes, Byakuya wasn't the slightest bit feminine. Beautiful, hell yes, in the same way a leopard was beautiful; all lethal grace and elegance; and in Renji's experience that was something that came with power and training, not some supposed attribute of sex.
Not that Byakuya looked very beautiful right now. His hair was everywhere, there were wet patches on his jeans and tear streaks on his cheeks, and he was limping. In short, he looked like someone had slapped him round the face and left him sitting in the mud. Renji's incipient guilt made a bid for freedom and he sped up some, just enough to make sure he reached Byakuya first.
"I'm so sorry," Byakuya greeted him, eyes downcast. "I should never have raised my hand or said those terrible things to you, please forgive me." Then, arms arrow-straight by his sides, he bowed, deep and long. And what the hell was Renji supposed to do with that.
Emotion rising in his own throat, he wanted to grab Byakuya and drag him up out of that show of deference, which no freaking Kuchiki or captain of the Gotei 13 should be making to a subordinate, then maybe give him a big hug, because, damn it, Byakuya looked so sad and lost. But there were the kids behind him, and this was in public. Plus, Byakuya had punched him in the face and yeah, okay, so not a hug, not when the bruise was still coming out on Renji's jaw. But maybe he could at least meet Byakuya halfway
"It's okay," he said, reaching out for Byakuya's arm. "And stand up, for crap's sake. People are staring." They weren't. There was no one around to stare except Keigo and Mizuiro and Renji didn't care about them, but still, it was making Renji uncomfortable.
Byakuya made no attempt to shake him off and came up looking at Renji with a tremulous smile. The mark on his cheek was still slightly red, but it wasn't going to leave a bruise. Renji could only hope to be so lucky with his chin.
"You need to meet some folks," Renji said, turning them both around. "Mizuiro on the right, and Keigo. They're friends of Ichigo, and they're gonna find us work and some place to live. Guys, this is Byakuya." And crap hadn't that name fallen into common usage. Was it only last year that Renji had been given permission to use it at all? These days everyone did. They had to. Since Byakuya had decided he wasn't gonna answer to Kuchiki anymore, it was either that or hey you.
Keigo bounced forwards with a little wave. "Hi, glad to meet you at last. I kinda saw you on the plane, or the airport anyhow, but I guess you didn't see me. I don't stand out much and you people were kinda busy so… okay, shutting up now." He backed off, looking uncomfortable. Renji didn't blame him. Byakuya hadn't responded at all.
He gave Byakuya a nudge and said quietly, "At least say hello to the guy."
Byakuya startled as if he'd been daydreaming, and said simply, "Keigo, yes," in a distracted kind of a way. Which wasn't exactly what Renji had had in mind.
When Mizuiro stepped forward, Renji was expecting something similar. "Kojima Mizuiro. I'm pleased to meet you, Byakuya-san" Mizuiro said, with a polite bow. "I hope we can work well together."
Whether it was the familiarity of the formal greeting or because Byakuya was already focusing, Renji didn't know, but it worked. This time Byakuya nodded and returned the sentiment with at least a modicum of manners. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance, Mizuiro."
Greetings exchanged, they continued walking towards the station in silence. Renji would've liked to ask where they were going and what work Mizuiro had found for them, but Byakuya's strange behaviour had made the atmosphere uncomfortable.
Thankfully the station wasn't far. Keigo bought tickets for all of them and helped Renji and Byakuya navigate the machines that guarded the platforms, and soon they were finding seats on a surprisingly empty train. Renji waited for Byakuya to sit down and then moved on another half carriage, not because he didn't want to sit with him, but because he needed to ask Mizuiro some questions and honestly he had no clue how Byakuya might react to the answers.
Mizuiro followed, leaving Keigo staring after them balefully before he turned back to sit next to Byakuya. The train pulled off with a lurch, making Renji grab for the side of the seat to keep from falling off. Mizuiro swung into the seat beside him. As he sat down, he said quietly, "I'm not being funny, but is your friend alright in the head?"
It sounded like a genuine enough question so Renji didn't punch him out on principle. Instead he shoved his hands into his pockets and stretched his legs until his feet almost reached the seats on the other side of the carriage. Only then did he let his gaze settle on Byakuya. He and Keigo were sitting on forward facing seats, Byakuya closest to the window. Beside him, Keigo was chattering away, leaning across to point at something going past outside and Byakuya seemed to be at least trying to pay attention. There was a little frown of concentration between his eyebrows and everything. But what did that mean, really.
"Honestly, I dunno," Renji said finally, turning his attention to his feet and kicking one boot against the other. "Things have been shit since we left Soul Society and he's taken it pretty hard." It was more than that, Renji knew, but that was his and Byakuya's business, not some human's, however helpful he might be being right now. "I can handle him though. It's not a problem."
Outside, the world flashed by in hues of grey and pale blue. Renji contemplated his boots, trying to distract himself from Byakuya's deteriorating mental state, until he remembered the real reason for sitting where he had. Sitting up, he rubbed his thighs with his palms and said, "So, this job you've got lined up for us. What is it?"
Mizuiro flicked a glance at him. "It's not much, I'm afraid." He shifted, easing a black leather wallet from his back pocket, from which he extracted a pale pink card which he passed to Renji. It read: Kutsuzawa Akio, and gave her address as Sanchome in an area called Shinjūku.
"She's a old friend of mine," Mizuiro explained. "Her father's a businessman. He's runs several clubs; Kiss Lite, Freezer, Xcution…?" When Renji didn't seem to be reacting to his name dropping, he shook his head, leaned over and tapped the logo at the top of the card. "Akio-chan's in charge of this one. The Red Iris. They need security. Nothing complicated, just someone to man the doors and stop unwanted visitors."
That didn't sound so different to what he'd been trained to do back in Soul Society. Though he guessed they probably drew the line at killing people here in the living world. Rubbing a thumb over the embossed card, Renji said, "That sounds okay. I reckon I could do that."
"So do I," replied Mizuiro, but he wasn't looking at Renji. He was focused further up the carriage on Byakuya. "What about him?"
Keigo had given up chatting to Byakuya. He was sat with his elbows on his knees staring at the floor while, beside him, Byakuya seemed to be dozing. Renji knew him well enough to know it was fake. Even disturbed as he was, Byakuya would never sleep surrounded by so many strangers.
"His instincts are still there," Renji said, taking out his phone and slipping the card into the case alongside it. Keigo must have caught the movement from the corner of his eye. He glanced up, saw them looking at him and, giving Byakuya a shifty backward glance, came and joined them. He was just sitting down as Renji explained to Mizuiro, "Getting a bit screwed up won't change that. He's been a captain for half a century."
Keigo did a perfect double take and almost missed the seat. "How the hell old are you guys anyway?" he demanded, impressing Renji with his ability to keep his voice down for once.
Renji smirked at him, remembering Ichigo's reaction to this exact same thing. "Byakuya's about a century and a half, give or take. Me, I'm not sure exactly, but younger than that. Still over a hundred though." He had to be. They were almost onto a new century and he remembered them celebrating the end of the last one in the camps. There'd been a feast. It'd been the first time Renji had ever tasted meat.
Keigo was shaking his head in disbelief. "I thought you were both in your twenties. Thirty, tops." He thumped back in his seat. "Wow, and I thought Mizuiro was the one with a thing for older partners. I guess Ichigo was the dark horse all along… ah, erm." He stuttered to a halt, face flushing scarlet from neck to hairline. "How about we forget I just said that."
Okay, there was something going on here that Renji was missing. Mizuiro tutted and shook his head. "Asano, Asano," he said with exaggerated patience. "I don't think Renji-san will be embarrassed by you outing his lover to him." He turned a quizzical eye on Renji. "That is if we're not completely wrong. Ichigo is your significant other, yes?"
Renji's gaze flicked immediately to Byakuya who, now Keigo had gone, wasn't pretending to sleep any longer. He was watching them, listening probably. Grey eyes met Renji's for a moment before a blink shifted their gaze out of the window, but Renji didn't miss the hesitancy in the look. Was Byakuya scared of what answer Renji might give? Considering his behaviour recently, he had every right to be.
But it wasn't as simple as that. Renji knew it, and if Byakuya was being honest with himself, he would know too. Their lives had been turned upside down. Both of them had been hurt badly, physically and emotionally, and sure Byakuya was being an ass at the moment, but that didn't change things between them. Not really. Not at their core. Renji still loved the guy, he just didn't like him very much at the moment. So, "One of my partners, yeah. Is that going to be a problem?" To be honest, he'd forgotten he hadn't told them about Ichigo.
"Not to me," Mizuiro replied. "And not at the Red Iris either."
"Nor for me," Keigo put in, folding his arms over his chest and sighing heavily. "I just wish Ichigo had said something before, is all. All those years ragging on him about dating girls. I feel like such an idiot."
"That's because you are one," Mizuiro pointed out, before turning back to Renji again. "But be warned, not everyone will be so polite. In fact, I told Akio-chan that you and Byakuya-san were evicted from your previous home for being gay. It seemed like a good cover story. She was very sympathetic."
"Which of course had nothing to do with it being you who was telling her," Keigo muttered under his breath.
"Akio-chan is a dear friend, nothing more-" Mizuiro began, only to be cut off when Keigo hooted with a bitter sounding laugh. "Friend! What sort of a guy goes on a three week cruise with a friend and comes back with no tanlines?"
Whatever the hell they were talking about, Renji was totally lost. Deciding to get them back on track, he said, "So she's okay about us both being guys." It was a 'thing' apparently in the living world. Renji was starting to grasp why Ichigo might have been so uncomfortable with him and Byakuya to start with. Beyond the obvious, of course.
"She's fine," Mizuiro said, flashing Keigo a final dirty look. "Quite a few of the people who work around there are gay or whatever, so it's not an issue. Just don't walk around holding hands and kissing in public and you'll be fine."
Renji tried imagining doing either of those things with Byakuya and failed completely. "So not gonna be a problem," he said.
They changed trains once, to one that ran under the ground. That was a lot more crowded and they ended up jammed together in the corner, hanging on to anything that wasn't a person. At the second to last station, when the doors opened and a group of guys with dyed hair and distinctive clothing piled in, laughing and play-fighting, Renji thought Byakuya was going to break and run, he looked so freaked out. Grabbing a cool hand, Renji tugged him closer, tucking him between Renji and the wall of the carriage. When the wall hit his back, Byakuya relaxed as though someone had punctured him with a pin, and his quietly grateful, "Thank you, Renji," made Renji have to focus hard on the floor so as to not grin like a loon. It might be small and petty, but it felt really good to be the protector instead of the victim for a change.
The area they ended up in wasn't unlike some of the parts of Matsuyama Renji vaguely remembered being carried through. Colourful billboards plastered the tops of department stores whose ground floors boasted vast window-displays of expensive looking gadgets. Restaurants, advertising food that Renji had never even heard of, rubbed shoulders with smaller shops selling jewelry, clothing and art. The streets were wide, busy with traffic going both ways, and the sidewalks clogged with people of all ages, shapes and sizes, dashing in and out of buildings and hurrying, hurrying everywhere.
Further in, the tone changed. Clubs, their doors shuttered and interiors dim this time of day, crowded close to fast food joints and bars. Here the billboards showed pictures of scantily clad women or pretty young guys in suits, and cinemas competed with theatres touting live action shows. The shops were smaller, the numbers of cars fewer and everywhere hung signs that, come nightfall would glow with neon light. The people too were different. Younger, dressed a bit more wildly, and with a look about them that said they hadn't long been up and about, despite it being late afternoon.
Leaving that area behind, they entered a warren of back roads that seemed to have an equal mix of residential and business premises. The Red Iris took up part of a corner plot in a three storey building with a yellow brick facade. The rest of it housed a bookstore, a small grocery and a place that sold candles and maybe perfume. Small eateries and izakaya populated the rest of the immediate area, their signs smaller and more discrete than some they'd past. There was a feeling of 'being part of, but not quite' hanging around the whole block.
As they arrived, the shutters across the front of the club drew back and a thin-faced man in a white shirt and dark pants, wielding a mop and with a cigarette drooping from the corner of his mouth, gestured for them to come inside. Mizuiro entered without hesitating, so Renji followed, ducking his head to avoid smacking it on the low lintel.
Inside, the dark red painted corridor kicked almost immediately right, leading a short way up to a pair of glossy black doors facing each other across the end. The one on the left was open and, as they entered, Renji had enough time to register yet more red and black around a smallish space that stank of stale cigarette smoke before a voice squealed, "Mizu-chan!" and a girl in a eye-scorching yellow tartan school uniform with her hair in pigtails threw herself off a barstool into Mizuiro's arms.
"Akio-chan," Mizuiro replied, the epitome of calm in the face of this female whirlwind. Renji blinked at her, remembering the name on the business card; Kutsuzawa Akio. This was the bar owner? It couldn't be. She was a kid. A daughter maybe?
Mizuiro untangled himself from the girl's enthusiastic greeting and turned her towards them. "These are the friends I was telling you about."
"Renji. Byakuya," she said, dipping a cutesy little curtsy. As the light hit her face, Renji realised she wasn't the child he'd assumed she was from her behaviour and dress. There were the beginnings of crow's feet at the corners of eyes that were way too knowing to be truly youthful.
To Renji's surprise, it was Byakuya who bowed first. "Thank you for considering us," he said, coming up once before bowing again.
"You're so sweet," Akio gushed. "And so good looking." She stroked a finger down Byakuya's face before flouncing over to Renji and, reaching up, resting her hand against the centre of his chest. "Look at you up there, all glowery and fierce with those eyebrows! Scary, ah!" Grabbing her hand back like she'd got burnt touching him, she clutched it to her chest and spun on Mizuiro with an accusing pout. "You didn't tell me they were like this."
To give Mizuiro credit, he regrouped like a pro. "When a thing defies description, it's better to allow someone to experience it for themselves," he said.
"You're so right," she agreed with wide-eyed seriousness, then spun towards Renji and Byakuya again, short skirt flaring. Hands clasped behind her, she walked around them, inspecting them with eager eyes. Renji did his best not feel like a cut of meat in a butcher's window and, by dint of fixing his eyes on the wall, managed at least to not fidget. There was a stylised picture of a woman painted there, or it might have been a flower, it was difficult to tell.
The rest of the decor was unremarkable. The room was maybe only the size of Byakuya's bedroom back in Seireitei and it's most prominent feature, a long padded couch covered in deep red and burgundy brocade was set width-ways across the middle, effectively divided that small space further. From where he was standing, all Renji could see at the far end was a low plinth with some kind of box on it. At this end, a dozen black leatherette covered chairs clustered around a few tables. The bar, with tall stools standing in front of it, took up most of the left hand wall and bridged the gap between the two areas.
Akio hove back into view. Her mouth was pulled into a tight moue of displeasure. "They'll need a makeover of course," she said.
Renji frowned in confusion. "I thought we were just working security?"
That won him an even more disapproving look. "Even if you're on the door, there are standards to be maintained, you know. Jeans and these," she waved a hand at their hoodies, "No, just no. You'll need suits, both of you. Nic will take you."
Nic? Renji glanced round, to discover a young man slouching in the entranceway smoking a cigarette. He looked like one of the guys who'd got on the train, the ones who'd freaked Byakuya out so much. His jacket was black leather, his pants skin tight, and his collar-length hair, which was almost the same colour as Ichigo's but dyed that way going by his hawkish dark eyebrows, looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, which Renji suspected was the whole point.
When Renji turned to look at him, he raised a hand. "Hey," he rumbled lazily. His jacket gaped open revealing a shirt made of some kind of net-like material.
Renji nodded at him before turning back to Akio. He was starting to get a really bad idea about what this place might be. "I don't sleep with people for money," he said. Sure it was rude, and they were desperate, but like Akio had said, there were standards. Renji had them, and he wasn't someone's whore. He'd had enough accusations of that thrown at him over the years to even think of doing it for real.
Behind him, Nic snorted amusement, and a smile quirked one side of Akio's mouth. It was the most genuine expression Renji had seen on her face. "Good," she said, "because I won't be paying you for sleeping."
That did it. Renji reached for Byakuya, intending to drag him out the door by force if necessary, only for Mizuiro to lay a calming hand on his arm. "You should hear her out. This isn't what you think."
"It's not? 'Cause it sure looks like a whore house to me." Renji waved a hand at 'Nic' and the clothing Akio was wearing. "Why else are they dressing up like that?"
"It's called fantasy," Akio said. "Or don't they have that where you come from."
Where he came from people didn't dare. "So he's not having sex with people?" Renji jerked a thumb at Nic, who'd slouched further into the bar and was now leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.
"I'm sure he's having sex with lots of people. I'm just not paying him to do it," Akio replied. She slid her arm through Mizuiro's. "Are you sure this one's gay. He seems very judgemental," she said as she drew him a few steps away towards the couch, leaving Renji to glare after them in total frustration because, last Renji heard, fucking guys didn't make any difference to your morals. Then again, what the fuck did he know anymore.
"Renji?" Byakuya's quiet voice drew Renji's immediate attention. He turned towards him eagerly. It didn't matter if they were fighting, if Byakuya said the word, they'd be out of here in a heartbeat. And damn it, there he went again, waiting on Byakuya's say so when it was his decision to make too.
What Byakuya actually said was, "Are you sure we can afford to be choosy?"
That was like a bucket of cold water to the face for Renji. Because Byakuya was right. They couldn't afford to turn this gig down, however much it stank. They didn't even have the funds between them to pay the train-fare back to Karakura, and since Arisawa-sensei had the glove, they couldn't dump the gigai and go in soul form either.
"Crap," he muttered under his breath. He hated feeling trapped and trapped was all he'd been feeling since this whole mess had happened.
"You know, it can't be all that bad," Keigo said. He had that apologetic embarrassed look about him again like he'd had when he was talking about Ichigo. "Mizuiro used to work here sometimes, and he wouldn't take money to sleep with women. I mean, he's got loads of girlfriends and all that, but he'd only do a job if it was fun. He doesn't need money."
Renji looked over at Mizuiro and Akio who were sat side by side on the couch talking in low voices. That apartment with all the fancy stuff in it had belonged to Mizuiro's parents, and though Renji well knew the difference between living in a nice place and owning it yourself, he'd never got a 'poor' vibe off Mizuiro. So, was Keigo right? There was one person in the room he might get a straight answer from.
"Oi, you," he called to Nic. The guy glanced up and, when Renji jerked his thumb, sauntered over to join them, finding a new patch of wall to lean against. "You wanna explain what this job's all about?" Renji asked.
"Keeping rich ladies happy," Nic replied in a low level voice. He had sultry eyes, Renji realised, made more so by a touch of kohl. "They come in here and drink. We talk to them, ask 'em how their day went, stuff like that."
"That's it?" Renji found that hard to believe.
Nic shrugged lazily. "We're quieter than some of the other places. Sometimes one of us sings. Maybe dances a bit. " He nodded towards a slightly raised area at the far end of the small room that could be kind of a stage if you squinted. "Like Akio-chan says, it's fantasy. They just wanna pretend someone gives a shit about 'em for a little while."
Put like that, it sounded more sad than sordid. "Anyhow," Nic continued, "you guys'll be out front, so you ain't gotta worry about what's going on back here."
That was an excellent point. Renji could feel himself giving in. He didn't like it, but Byakuya was right. They needed to get out of the hospital basement, and to do that they had to have a job, any job, and this was the only offer they'd had.
"Okay," he said, feeling like he was selling out to all those assholes who'd called him a gaki whore. "We'll take it."
After that, it was a bit of a whirlwind. Akio, who forgave them immediately, set about them, giggling, with a tape measure and then sent them out with Nic to buy clothes, which Renji suspected Mizuiro ended up paying for since he definitely glimpsed that black leather wallet being shoved back into Mizuiro's pocket several times.
Unlike Nic and the other 'host' they met, a skinny punk-looking kid with a ring through his nose and a pierced tongue, who went by the name of Lee, Renji and Byakuya got to wear suits, which was something of a relief. Renji couldn't imagine Byakuya ever being comfortable in a fishnet shirt that showed his nipples. Though the idea of it made Renji have to go stand in the corner and take a few deep breaths to recover.
The Red Iris was closed on a Monday so they had a whole twenty four hours to get settled before they had to start working. Without even being asked, Keigo donated funds for the train so they could go back and pick up their things. 'And leave a message for Ichigo, so he knows where you've gone,' as the kid had said.
Not that Renji needed the reminder. He was kind of banking on Ichigo finding them something else in the way of work the next time he came to the living world because the room that went with this job was just about as bad as Renji had feared.
Up on the second floor, it was basically a broom-cupboard. Renji knew that because it stank of chemicals and he spotted the cleaning supplies stacked up in the corner of the office next door. There was a futon that he and Byakuya would have to share, because as Akio-chan said, 'Oh my god, you guys make such a cute couple,' and a shelf where they could put their clothes, once they had more than the ones they stood up in and their work suits. The only toilet was the public one downstairs and they were expected to eat elsewhere.
In fact, the only good thing to be said for the whole set-up was that their room came with a lock, to which he and Byakuya had the only key, and the freedom implicit in that little bit of metal made all the rest of the crap seem almost worthwhile. Only later, curled back to back on the lumpy futon with Byakuya, stomach full of the ramen Nic had treated them to, and listening to the distant hubbub of people and music outside, did the doubts start to creep back in again like termites undermining all his confidence.
Rolling onto his back, Renji whispered into the darkness. "This was the right thing to do, wasn't it?"
For the longest moment, he thought Byakuya was sleeping, then the mattress stirred and Renji felt cool fingers tangle with his own. "Back when we first arrived in Karakura, it was you who told me that we had to follow Isshin's example if we were to survive here. That we had to make human friends and human lives for ourselves. This is, I believe, about as human as you can possibly get, so yes, Renji, it was definitely the right thing to do."
Renji huffed a laugh, comforted by Byakuya's awkward attempt at reassurance. It was good to know some things never changed. "I guess we're in it together, whatever happens," he said with a little squeeze of his fingers.
Byakuya squeezed back and, thinking the conversation finished, Renji was about to try getting back to sleep, when Byakuya spoke again, hesitant and so quietly that Renji could easily have missed it if they weren't lying so close together. "I owe you… an explanation. You should know… Senbonzakura is gone." Exhaling shakily, Byakuya raised their entwined fingers and pressed them to his chest. "In here."
The truth, even though he'd suspected it forever, still hit like a punch to the gut. Renji propped himself on his elbow and gazed down at Byakuya. There wasn't a lot of light, just what was coming in under the door, but it was enough to see that Byakuya was turned away, staring the wall.
Years ago, on the heels of Renji and Zabimaru working out Broken Baboon's Fang, Byakuya had tried emulating the move with Senbonzakura. During the challenges, he'd told Ichigo that Second Viewing forced Senbonzakura into suicide. That wasn't true, it just destroyed the blade for a bit, but Renji knew that the sentiment behind the words echoed what Byakuya had felt that first time. He'd been facing Renji across the sparring field when it happened, so Renji had seen Byakuya's terror when, back in its sealed form, Senbonzakura crumbled to nothing but an empty hilt in his hand.
For Byakuya to say now that Senbonzakura was gone and to even hint at his inner world meant this was really freaking serious. Was Renji right in his suspicions? Had Byakuya used Second Viewing in bankai, in some kind of ultimate final move that destroyed the zanpakutō completely?
Untangling their fingers, Renji caught Byakuya's chin and turned him so they were facing each other. "You should have said something earlier," he said, and damn that might have come out harsher than Renji intended, but for crap's sake, if that was what had happened, it sure explained why Byakuya was such a basket case.
The reply came in the form of closed eyes and a breathed, "I didn't know how."
That Renji understood. It would have killed him to speak about Zabimaru when he'd first been sealed, and Zabimaru had still been inside Renji, still a part of him, however inaccessible.
But that couldn't be the whole story. It was an established fact that a shinigami couldn't survive without their zanpakutō and, though Byakuya was seriously fucked up, he wasn't dead, which meant some spark of Senbonzakura's spirit had to have survived. It was in there, somewhere.
At one point, Renji doubted he'd ever feel Zabimaru again, but they were already fighting their way back to each other.
Over Zabimaru's distant but determined roar, Renji wondered if maybe that was all Byakuya needed too. Time for Senbonzakura to heal and for Byakuya to bond with it again. It had worked for Renji. Hells, he almost had shikai and bankai was bound to follow. All he'd needed was time, and an asauchi.
Which, yeah. Now a lot of things were making more sense. And the lack of an asauchi was going to be a huge problem. Until Ichigo sent one through, Renji was going to have to be on his guard. Zabimaru's spirit might be well-entrenched inside its blade, but Byakuya was desperate and desperate people did really dumb things, like steal the stuff they needed or attack people who got in their way. Renji knew; once upon a time, he'd been that guy, he'd done the stupid things.
As of now, Zabimaru was probably safe. The blade was inside Renji's gigai with him, and with the way these Quincy bodies trapped reiryoku, Byakuya wouldn't be able to attack like he had before. The mood swings and spacing out they could deal with. Hells, Byakuya had carried Renji around for weeks when he'd been too crippled to move, the least Renji could do was repay the favour.
But sooner or later, if Renji was going to keep training, and Byakuya was going to sit jinzen properly, they'd have to return to their soul forms. That would leave Renji vulnerable, and no way was Renji risking that until he'd made a few things clear.
Releasing the grip he had on Byakuya's chin, Renji slid his hand up to cup a smooth cheek instead, brought their faces closer together and dropped his voice to a threatening purr. "Just let's get one thing straight. Zabimaru is mine. If you ever try attacking me again, I won't stop at knocking you out. I will take you down. And you know I can do it too, don't you?"
It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth either. In his right mind, even without Senbonzakura, Byakuya would be a strong opponent; his kidō and reiatsu levels still surpassed Renji's. But in the state he was in, especially trapped in the gigai, Renji could beat him, and on some level Byakuya had to know that.
"Byakuya, answer me."
But for it to mean anything, Byakuya had to acknowledge it. And right now, he wasn't acknowledging anything. All Renji was getting for his pains was silence and closed eyes. And that wasn't good enough.
Nerves fluttering his gut from what he was about to do, he crawled over the top of Byakuya, who wedged an arm between them and tried to push Renji away, face turned to the side, and eyes screwed shut. Renji grabbed the arm by the wrist and pinned it firmly to the mattress, then did the same with the other. "Look at me," he growled. "Byakuya, look at me."
Eyes opened, glinting in the darkness. Beneath him, Renji could feel Byakuya's breath coming in short sharp pants like barely controlled panic. He was getting through, he thought. Just a little bit further.
"You've seen how close I am to getting shikai again. Without Senbonzakura on your side, me and Zabimaru are stronger than you."
A knee came up in some sort of half-hearted attempt to resist. Renji avoided it easily and dropped his full weight down on top of Byakuya, who grunted quietly at the impact. Renji let go of his wrists, folded his arms across Byakuya's chest and leaned. It wasn't rope, but it was all Renji had to work with. "Do I got to prove that to you?"
For a moment Renji thought Byakuya was going to keep fighting. Then he went limp and, turning his head to expose his neck, breathed, "I can't fight you."
In Renji's book, that was as much of an answer as he needed. Dipping his head, he placed a gentle kiss to Byakuya's pulse point before saying, "It'll be be okay, I promise. But you've got to keep on top of the stupid. No more of it, you hear me?"
A shudder ran through Byakuya. "Yes."
Finally. Rolling off Byakuya and onto his back, Renji spoke to the ceiling, "Okay, so here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna settle in here, do this job, get ourselves organised, and then we're gonna try and get Senbonzakura back."
At that, Byakuya tried to get up out of the bed. Renji grabbed him by the T-shirt and, dragging him back down, tucked him firmly against his side, ignoring the desultory wriggling like he did with Ichigo when he did the same thing. "Remember what Ichigo said before? You're not alone. Me and him, we can fix this. And until he comes through, you and me can get the ball rolling. Together there's nothing the three of us can't sort out. But not if we keep fighting each other. So, like I said, we keep our heads down, play human and in our spare time, we work on our zanpakutō." That sounded like a pretty solid plan. "Now, say 'yes, Renji'."
A brief and churlish silence followed, but then, murmured against his arm, came, "Yes, Renji." It wasn't much, but it was a start. Undoubtedly there would be more problems to come, but they could face and deal with them as they happened. For now, this would do.