Rating: PG-13

Warning: Language, references to adult situations

Characters in Chapter: Toshirou, Kuraime, Byakuya

Current Song Stuck in Head: The Garden – Mirah

Chapter Seven: Permeability

As he placed the baby-blue scarf in its assigned place at his throat, he could feel those silver eyes following every motion, bearing into the back of his neck as that thin fabric wrapped effortlessly into position.

The wind that blew into the room was chilled and frosty, stinging lightly at his caramel cheeks as he finally turned to face the Head of the Kuchiki clan, his eyes filled with pleas and his shoulders stiff with tension.

"So," Byakuya began in his professional tone of nobility, taking a seat on the edge of the freshly made bed, "you are telling me that you met the Kurosaki boy yesterday evening on your visit to the 13th Division Vice-Captain's office and proceeded to take him out to the nearest ramen house where you succeeded in thoroughly soaking the both of you in alcohol. From there you returned here for the night and managed to fall into a liquor induced coma, waking this morning with no recollection of what transpired between your arrival and waking?"

Kuraime prayed that the mental blush didn't reach his cheeks as he nodded vigorously, eyes never leaving the face of his stiff elder brother. Said shinigami captain seemed to study his features for a moment, searching his azure eyes before sliding his own closed and bowing his head slightly with a sigh.

"You know, Kuraime," he said softly, all pretense and formality aside, "even if it had been a convincing story, which it wasn't…"

The addressed 3rd Seat visibly flinched as the 6th Division captain called out his falsity.

"…Whenever your gaze refuses to reach my own, focusing instead on the patch of flesh between my eyes, I can tell, beyond a shadow of doubt, that you are not telling me the whole truth."

The silver-haired shinigami sighed in defeat, his shoulders slumping only slightly at the honest words of his closest friend and family – the one who knew him even better than he knew himself. "Bya…"

A deceptively slender hand and wrist, decorated in ice-blue cloth, rose to silence any protest or excuse; instead, it beckoned the younger Kuchiki to take a seat beside him on the mattress.

As Kuraime slowly stepped over to the bed, sitting carefully and cautiously beside his elder brother, he couldn't stop the guilt and fear that flooded his mind, feeling as if he was backed into a wall and surrounded by several bloodthirsty hollows.

Though, to his shock and utter surprise, he found himself wrapped in warm, comforting arms, his face pressed into a narrow shoulder clothed in fine silk and the soft material of a white haori. He couldn't hold back the small gasp that escaped his lips, eyes widening in awe at the very rare display of affection from his usually conservative and upright brother.

"Do you remember the last time I held you like this, Kuraime?" were the soft words wafted across his ear.

He felt himself relax, nodding softly into the welcoming shoulder, an unbidden emotion seeping into his vision, "Yes," he breathed, "It was when he left me and told me never to return to his quarters again. It was the day that I lost the one I held dearest to me…all over a foolish misunderstanding and a few disapproving elders."

Unwanted memories filled his mind – thoughts of a time where he could have said that he was truly happy with his destiny as a shinigami – a period with someone who saw him as more than just a quick lay and a pretty face. He could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, fighting to hold them back as a giant lump formed in the thick of his throat, visions of an old love - now long dead - flashing before his mind's eye.

He didn't know why it all still affected him so much. It had been five years, for god's sake! He had been with so many other men and women since that time…and still.

Still, something was missing in his heart, and he knew that it was something that couldn't be replaced by walking on eggshells and sleeping around.

Kuraime shut his sapphire eyes as a lean hand came up to run soothing fingers through his silver hair, massaging gentle circles against his scalp. As stiff and refined as the Head of the Kuchiki clan was, the 3rd Seat knew he was capable of unmeasured gentleness. There was a core of care and compassion that was centered inside of this stoic captain, and Kuraime felt a surge of pride at the knowledge that he was the only one who got to experience it.

"Kuraime, whatever you did with the Kurosaki boy in the privacy of your own quarters is no business of mine. I just want to warn you that you are treading on some fairly thin ice…in the literal sense. I just want you to prepare yourself for what might come back to haunt you."

The 3rd Seat tensed at the cryptic words that were an obvious harbinger of dismal things to come. "W-what do you mean, Bya?"

There was a tangible tension hanging over the two figures, and Byakuya couldn't stop that small sigh that left his lips, his arms tightening around the slightly small shinigami.

"I mean that Ichigo is a fairly untouchable. He belongs to someone else, and that someone will not be amused to find that you have touched something that is rightfully his own."

Kuraime frowned slightly, his brows furrowing into a deep crease, "What do you mean, he belongs to someone? I thought he said…"

He froze, his eyes widening in a heavy realization as he pulled back slightly, his brother's hands coming to rest on the now trembling 3rd Seat's knees as the boy visibly groped for something to say.

"H-he said…that they were having problems –that they were taking a break. He said something about is lover being cold and stoic, not letting him in or telling him how he felt…I knew it was wrong to do what I did, to allow him to…but I didn't think…"

Suddenly, something that his brother had said struck home in his brain, a cold feeling sinking into his body like an icy breeze. "Bya…when you said that I was treading on thin ice…what exactly did you mean?"

Those now warm slate eyes stared back at him, filled with sympathy for him, "I meant that dragons don't often react calmly when their territory is trod upon by potential threats."

Suddenly, as if on some diabolical cue, the air inside the mansion became thin and frigid, an actual frost picking up as they exhaled.

Kuraime stiffened, going rigid at the tingling of his nerves as he sensed an overbearing, but hauntingly familiar spiritual pressure leaking into his quarters and slithering toward his body like hundreds of tiny, invisible ice-ropes.

"Oh fuck!" he managed to whisper breathlessly, just in time to whip his head toward the door, as it slammed open, an icy wind of spirit energy blowing violently into his face, making him close his eyes at the ferocity of it.

He could feel the icy blue energy roiling off of himself like mist as he stood in the doorway, piercing teal eyes locking onto the two figures on the bed. The sounds of servants and maids bustling in the hallway at the sudden commotion that had entered the premises could be barely distinguished under the roar of the unearthly pressure.

Eyes dangerously flashing to the smaller figure of the two, the pressure continued to skyrocket, filling the room with a punishing weight that threatened to suffocate the 3rd Seat that now rose to his feet shakily. This was not something he ever wanted to be doing again…

This place was like a bottomless cavern of reverie – memories that he wished he could forget. Staring intensely ahead, Toshirou could feel his hands balling into fists at the tension that was surging through him. He hadn't been this angry in Kami knows how long, and it was not something that he was accustomed to.

Reining his spiritual pressure in slightly, he locked eyes with the elder of the Kuchiki's who still managed to remain completely unaffected through the intrusion. Within those eyes, hard as steel, he saw both concern and apology, hidden beneath the veil of pride and stoicism. Because he knew this man…as so few truly did.

He knew that this captain was not some stone-cold, heartless shinigami. He also knew that, like all people, he had weaknesses and a softer side, no matter how rigid and emotionless he appeared to the rest of the world.

Searching those slate-grey orbs, he could make out the subtlest acknowledgement and acceptance, and was spared shock, as the captain rose from his seat, wrapping the younger Kuchiki in a tight embrace, "Do not shame yourself in this battle…I'll be waiting in my office when this is all said and done."

As the raven-haired Kuchiki made his way for the door, he paused a breath away from the icy 10th Division Captain, turning his head slightly to meet his teal gaze through the corner of his right eye, "Remember where you are, Captain Hitsugaya. Though I have no doubt in your abilities, I do hope I shall not have to arrange for repairs to the manor this late in the year…nor do I fancy the idea of being short a brother. We will speak later on this matter."

As the noble exited the bedroom, Toshirou could feel his anger hardening into a chilling form of contempt and resentment, relaxing his fists enough for his fingertips to brush the thick yet soft fabric of his white captain's haori, rippling gently in the breeze of retracting spiritual energy. Lifting his eyes from their gaze upon the pristine flooring, his pupils dilated slight as they locked onto the only remaining figure in the room. He froze like the power that he held.

The man was so different than he remembered him…He had been but a scrawny, Q-tip haired young adult, trying to make a name for himself and just bring someone to accept him for who he was. But now, only five years later, in his immaculate robes, and with his now light-silver hair laying smoothly against his shoulders, he looked every inch a man. Beneath those robes and silks, Toshirou knew that there were strong and defined muscles that had not been there before – those eyes now held a different kind of sorrow that he had seen that day…

Shaking his head free of the waves of unwelcome emotion and reminiscence, he locked his eyes onto the azure stare that studied him in much the same manner as he had been. And Hitsugaya couldn't blame the 3rd Seat, for he knew that he had changed considerably as well, growing into his own skin and filling out nicely in the half-decade that had passed. But his was beside the point…for he was not there for some heartfelt reunion of reminiscence and reverie – some empty and meaningless camaraderie that could never be.

This was a defense against at predator – a trespasser on tightly-possessed territory – not some play date with old friends…

"If you value your position in this society, I suggest that you meet me in the next half-hour at the practice dojo behind the 6th Division Headquarters. We have a few things to discuss…"

And those words were the only indication of mercy that the captain chose to display, turning swiftly on his heel and heading to the designated location in a whirl of fabric and tightly wound spiritual pressure, leaving the other shinigami to stare at the empty spot in shock and confusion.

Well, this is quite possibly the worst thing that could have happened…