A/N: You're probably wondering why I updated on Thanksgiving Day. Well, the thing is, I didn't get to go home. But! My tooth aches. Well, it's not that it hurts, but it's bothering me to no end. I just hope it's simply a sign that it might fall out, rather than it being something serious. The last time a tooth of mine fell out, I was a bratty freshman who bit down too hard on an apple. I would like to take this opportunity to thank those of you who put up a review. From the feedback that I got, I was able to see that the last chapter was quite on the humorous side. Oh, yes: I haven't mentioned the awesomeness that is Iron Maiden in an awfully long time, eh? Well, enjoy the chapter and "Up the Irons!" as we Maidenheads always say.
Ch. 7 The Longest Day
"Had I known I would be touching anything pink, I woulda been more careful with Mikoto!"
Byakuya saw that Renji was seething enough to start gnawing on the bike to get rid of his pent up frustration. The redhead threw the monkey wrench to the ground, gave a hearty kick to the brown box the parts had come in, and stalked back to his desk. He slumped on his chair, and slid low enough that Byakuya was only able to see the top of his shoulders.
"But we had three girls... three!" Renji repeated for emphasis. He drew the palm of his hand across his face, almost as if his intent were to rub off the tattoos, "Boys are so much easier," he said as if it were a fact, "Give 'em something sharp and they'll worship you for the entire week."
Renji gave a hard sigh and closed his eyes.
In the meantime, Byakuya's brain was telling him that hell had frozen over. It told him pigs could fly. It told him that Yumichika was as straight as the shortest distance between two points. This proved to be quite the eye-opener for Byakuya: never had he expected to see Renji the father of three girls. This meant that his relationship with Imai was a serious one, as if the fact that they were married weren't enough proof already. In all honesty, Byakuya was somewhat alarmed: if Renji had managed to get himself made Captain, married, and father three kids, all within a meager ten years… then everything else was game to radical change.
What's next, Byakuya thought dryly, Rukia's married to that orange haired brat?
He shivered. She had better not. Byakuya shook the thought off and turned his attention back to the man behind the desk.
Renji was still meditating in that slouching position of his. Seeing that he would not be offered a seat anytime soon, at least not until his former Lieutenant finished brooding over the damage of piecing together a pink bicycle would have on his ego, Byakuya took the liberty of taking a seat.
Byakuya observed with interest that Renji's office was in order and quite clean for someone like him. Either he had grown up somewhat, or it was Imai's doing. Byakuya would place money on the latter. The scattered bike parts on the office floor were obviously out of place, even more so since the soft pink texture of the numerous pieces clashed horribly with the dark green texture of the carpet underneath it.
Byakuya, careful to not break Renji's musings, reached out to pick up one of the five picture frames neatly set at the edge of the desk. He decided to go for the largest one, figuring it would be the one to have the Abarai family photograph encased within it.
And he was right.
Renji had the second youngest girl, about five years of age, on his shoulders, steadying her with his right arm… while flexing his left. Byakuya inwardly grinned. Renji, even as the father of three and towering over his wife and three daughters, would always be Renji. Byakuya returned his attention back to the photograph. At the center stood the oldest girl, about seven or eight, cradling a black kitten, beaming at the camera. Imai was to the other side of the oldest daughter, arms carefully wrapped around the year-old child's midsection, the girl's small back pressed against her mother's bosom.
The three girls all had Renji's flaring red hair, but in the height department, Byakuya saw that they would take after their mother. Despite her smiling face, Byakuya was able to see that the oldest most likely took after her father. The girl on Renji's shoulders appeared to be the bubbly type, and the youngest he had no clue… perhaps a mix.
"You have a nice family Renji," Byakuya spoke suddenly, "count your blessings."
Renji awoke from his ruminations.
"Of course I do," he answered with a hard sigh, "I make sure to do it every morning."
Byakuya hadn't expected Renji to reveal information that sensitive to him. He knew without a doubt that he was on good terms with Renji, but he didn't know how far that filial bond extended out to him.
"Hey, Byakuya."
Evidently, close enough to use my name.
"Yes?" Byakuya replied, careful to hide the minor irritation at hearing a former subordinate, or anyone for that matter, address him by his first name.
"Finish the bike for me."
Byakuya flinched. What would give Renji the idea that he was any good at all with bicycles or anything mechanical for that matter? Sure, he did own an extensive watch collection that stretched as far back as the third generation, but even then the servants cleaned and cared for the gears of each watch. Though, Byakuya personally made sure he was the one to clean and wind the watches favored personally by the Heads that had come before him. Perhaps in some prior conversation with Renji, Byakuya had made mention of the tiny gears, the springs, the jewel bearings, and the small pin-levers he had to keep in shape? There was no way of knowing, and as much as it annoyed him, he would have to accept Renji's request.
"Finish? Renji, the bicycle hasn't even begun to be built."
Renji turned red. Scolding his former Lieutenant. Good times.
"Yes or no?" He grumbled, "I'm a busy man."
"This is hardly the appropriate place to do this sort of work."
"… is that a yes?" Renji asked, just the smallest hint of hope in his hissing voice.
"Yes, I wouldn't want the young recipient of the gift to spend valuable time guessing at what contraption her father got her. "
It took a few seconds for Renji to register what Byakuya said, but when he did, he frowned.
"It woulda looked like a bike eventually."
Byakuya was glad to see that even after ten years, Renji always took the role of the deer caught in the headlights in an argument.
"Then why not do it yourself?" Byakuya pointed out.
Renji saw he had dug himself a hole. He quickly recovered by jumping out of his seat and rushing to the adjoining storage room ignoring Byakuya's question.
"Take the bike outback in the third dojo," Renji's muffled shout carried over from the other room, "Koichiro would get a stroke if he saw his idol putting a pink bike together."
Byakuya let Renji have the last say. He picked up all the pieces of the bike and quickly stuffed them into the box. He scavenged the floor for any tools or missing parts and when he saw he had gotten hold of all of them, he left the office for the dojo Renji had directed him to.
The construction of the bike took a little less than an hour. Byakuya found it quite satisfying to be doing something with his hands, and wasn't at all bothered when it came to dabbing the gears with oil. To get them rolling as smooth as possible, he had to dirty his fingers with the slippery black liquid and spread it down the chain with one hand, while the other worked the pedal to keep the chain moving along. Byakuya noticed with disappointment that no amount of his craftsmanship would prove to be enough to get rid of the indentations on the smooth metal left behind by Renji's teeth.
He cleaned his hands in the basin near the entrance to the dojo and dried himself with the hand towel to the side. Byakuya decided he had already done enough for the redhead, so he settled to not bother with informing him of the finished job. Plus, it would be worth knowing Renji would blow up once he saw the mess the oil had done to the wooden floor of the dojo.
Byakuya put his haori and scarf back on and left for his next destination, wherever it took him.
Byakuya spent the rest of the afternoon observing the comings and goings of the Sereitei of the near future… to him at least. He chose not to continue his visits into the other Divisions for fear of calling attention to himself, as if the hour spent alone with a bicycle that reeked of girlyness weren't enough.
Judging by the position of the sun, he had about another hour before the workday let out, so he decided he might as well head towards the Sixth Division and show Imai that he was relatively better than he had been that morning.
Byakuya thought he had done enough exploring for the day, hoping that what he had discovered would prove to be sufficient to get him along while he learned the other stuff he had missed. Though it caused him great irritation, he would have to pay attention at the Captains meetings, if they were still being held on a weekly basis. Not that he didn't pay attention. He heard what Ukitake and the others said, but as soon as he did, the little bit of info was processed and stored in some remote corner of his brain and left there to sit and collect dust until the time came when he had to strain himself to remember. But he rarely ever did that. Byakuya hoped above all that the parties following the meetings had been discarded.
Before he knew it, Byakuya was facing the open doors of the Sixth Division. He prepared himself to greet the guards as soon as they saluted him, and when they did so, he gave them a brief nod. Luckily, half the squad was eating supper while the other half showered, leaving the main courtyard relatively alone save for the company of twenty shinigami working the shift for the day.
When the exercises were adjourned for meals, Byakuya had made it a rule upon his promotion to have one company remain behind to continue the training. He did so because he had noticed, in his days of delivering papers and messages as a Lieutenant, that the main courtyard, when left empty, looked utterly unprofessional. Byakuya let the individual companies to decide for themselves which three would stay put at each respective mealtime. Byakuya thought it developed their organizational skills and above all, taught them responsibility. He was very pleased to see that his subordinates were smart enough to not use the duties as a wagering chip, that is, doing another company's shift for losing a bet or for another reason.
The company working the supper shift stopped their training to salute him and when Byakuya acknowledged their gesture, all twenty went straight back to their exercises, as if nothing had interrupted them.
He arrived at his office with his thoughts revolving around whether or not the Sixth Division had improved on Kidou as a whole in the last ten years. He pushed open the door and was immediately welcomed by an Imai busily sweeping the floor. Byakuya noticed for the first time that his Lieutenant was slightly plump, probably from her youngest daughter. He made a note to find out the names of the three girls as soon as he could, as he was positive that that was essential information to keeping his cover.
"Are you feeling better, Captain?" Imai stopped long enough to wipe her brow with a handkerchief she pulled from her pocket.
"Yes. Relatively so."
"That's good to hear." Imai smiled, "There's a message on your desk that was delivered while you were out."
He brought himself to thank her, even though it was one of her duties as his Lieutenant to collect messages in his absence. But he was sure it was expected of him, and when Imai returned the motion, he knew he had been right in doing so.
Byakuya moved towards his chair and sat down. He picked up the small slip and noticed that because it not in an envelope of any sort, the message was routine. He flipped the card over and read the print silently:
THIS IS SIMPLY A REMINDER THAT TOMORROW'S CAPTAINS MEETING TIME HAS CHANGED FROM 15:00 TO 18:00. PLEASE BE ON TIME AS I AM GREATLY LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS MONTH'S INTER-DIVISION FRIENDSHIP GET-TOGETHER! HAVE A GREAT DAY AND DON'T FORGET THAT WE AGREED ON A POTLUCK FOR THIS MONTH!
- Commander-General Jyuushirou Ukitake
Byakuya, without a doubt, was truly, absolutely, speechless. There were so many things contained in that little pasty-yellow card to wind him for hours on end.
"Oh! A potluck! I almost forgot!" Imai said from her desk flipping through her daily planner.
She writes this down?
"Captain! What will you be bringing? Renji asked me to cook his share as every time he nears the stove, it begs for mercy." She giggled.
When Byakuya saw that his Lieutenant hadn't asked a rhetorical question and was actually expecting an answer, he said the first thing that came to mind:
"Sandwiches."
He was a little surprised. Sandwiches? It sort of made sense. Excluding this morning's breakfast, as difficult as it was to believe, a sandwich had been his last meal.
"What kind?" Imai inquired.
Is the woman really this picky?
"… Cuban." Byakuya let out, wondering if he had ever actually had one.
"I've never had one of those," Imai pondered, placing a fingertip to her chin in contemplation, "Is it Western?"
"… I believe so."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Byakuya couldn't believe his future involved talking to his Lieutenant about potlucks and food and sandwiches: all that was missing was a book club and knitting material to turn Byakuya into a forthcoming old lady.
"What will you be bringing?" Byakuya asked, hoping he had asked one of those questions that resulted in the other person chattering away, leaving him in the safe zone while he thought up another emergency question.
"I want to try out this new recipe Renji brought back from the real world… but seeing as to how there's not much time, I'll have to settle for something old." She frowned, "Perhaps a salad of sorts."
It got quiet again.
"And for Renji?"
Byakuya couldn't emphasize the ridiculousness of the situation.
Food.
He was talking about food.
"Renji has been badgering me for the last month to make him something foreign he tried a while back when he went to Region S.A. Area 05 for a quick skirmish." She smiled, "The dope even got permission from the Commander-General to be allowed back for a few hours while he got wrote down the recipe."
Byakuya noticed that Imai smiled a lot when she spoke of Renji. And on a minor note, Renji was still quite the fan of food… a rabid-fan if it was free. He wondered if that had been the reason his former Lieutenant hung out in the Second Division on the that days he was short on cash. The fact that the redhead was willing to risk getting caught loitering around by Captain Soi Fon in the name of food really told him something about Renji.
"I think it called for eggs, tomato sauce, meat fillet…" Imai drifted off.
Byakuya closed his eyes in relief when Imai asked no further questions.
All this talk about food… it reminded him he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He stared at the shadow formed by the file cabinet next to the window on the far wall to his left and then turned to gaze at the clock: he was pleased to see he had only been off by five minutes.
Byakuya drummed his fingers against his desk. Imai was scratching away on the papers at her side of the room. There was no point in starting the paperwork he had missed out on, he would have to pay for it by sacrificing a day of his weekend to make up for lost time.
He stood up. He was going to run out the last half hour of the workday productively,
"… Mikoto." She looked up from her work, waiting.
Good. Calling Imai by her first name is normal.
"I will be in the training field overseeing the end-of-the-day exercises. I wont be coming back, so make sure to lock the door."
"I will… and get a good night's sleep, all right? You looked awfully weary this morning, Captain."
"Do not worry." Byakuya paused at the office door, "Save it for your husband. After all, looking after Renji is similar to caring for another child, is it not?"
Imai gave a small laugh. "I'm glad to see that you're back to normal, Captain."
The short, dark headed woman gave him a salute and went back to her work, humming a tune Byakuya hadn't heard before. Truth be told, Byakuya didn't feel like observing his subordinates. The only reason he said that was because he needed to get out of the office. But in the end, he forced himself to trudge to the back field of the Division.
Watching the individual companies practice made his fingers twitch with excitement. Byakuya was feeling trigger-happy. All his subordinates were there, and when they noticed his presence, all training stopped.
"Form a circle. All of you." Byakuya knew he hadn't projected his voice enough for the shinigami training in the last fields to be able to hear him. He wanted to see how his subordinates would handle the problem. The order was relayed from shinigami to shinigami, until it reached the last person scurrying to join their companions around the circle.
Although Byakuya hadn't ordered for it, the Division had formed the circle around him, making the Captain the center point of the Division.
"Unit's A-04 and B-07, step forward."
The ten shinigami did, though they did their best to cover their confusion.
"The goal is to knockout the opposing unit's Sitting Duck." He had chosen those two units in particular because he recognized the man and woman at the head of each.
"Seya and Kawada…" Byakuya said, watching the man and woman's ears perk, awaiting their orders, "Ducks."
Without further questions, the members of each unit assumed their favored battle or defensive stance. Byakuya was pleased that even the eight shinigami he did not know knew the vast importance of being able to communicate without being too loud. He was further impressed to see that each unit had someone staring down the other in case a member of the other unit forgot to cover his messaging with faux words, that is while that person was saying something, his lips were forming an entirely different thing.
This was a game, if it could even be called a game, that Byakuya had invented. Two units started the round trying to knock out the opposing team's Duck first. The tactical portion and teamwork exercise of the game came in when defending the Duck, as the Duck was allowed to defend him or herself, but was restricted from attacking.
The skirmish would continue until a Duck was knocked out, or if Byakuya felt that it was dragging on too long, would say the unit's name that would switch in with the one leaving. This taught his subordinates speed, adjustability and stamina, at least for the unit left behind. The game would go on, Byakuya only having to name the new unit and the new Duck, and by the end of the game, all shinigami were left exhausted, especially when he decided to add several rounds instead of the usual one.
Byakuya didn't have a name for it, curious to see what his subordinates would come up with. A week after its first implementation many decades ago, he heard his brainchild christened as "The Death of Duck and Me" by a group of new recruits not having yet mastered the art of looking around before speaking.
He was a little disappointed to see that his troops wouldn't survive beyond the first round, but at least that meant they had pushed themselves during the day's training. When he let them go, it was half past five. Byakuya gave a few of the units that had a serious issue with communication a few pointers as well as the ones that were simply erratic when defending their Duck.
Byakuya left with a gust thinking that perhaps living in this time wasn't so bad after all.
He arrived at the mansion deciding to skip the entrance gates and head straight for the dining room, which was unusual, considering he changed into something more appropriate when he got home. He ate his dinner quietly, paying no mind that Rukia was again absent for the meal. Byakuya made in a priority to find out her current situation and location, as soon as he finished eating.
When he was done, he stood and exited the room, deciding to take a stroll down the gardens and mulling the day's events over. He felt the air to be placid and the lack of noise was quite discomforting. He shook it off and thought how he should go about explaining to his chefs what a Cuban sandwich was and that he'd need them to prepare about fifteen sandwiches. Remembering that both Abarais would be there, as well as Omaeda, he quickly changed the figure to accommodate his new reflection.
That when he felt the tackle.
Followed by a pair of arms wrapping around his neck.
Byakuya was caught so off guard that he was forced on one knee. Breathing a bit ragged, Byakuya unsheathed his sword and prepared to slice whoever had done that to him.
Only he wasn't met by a man or a woman, or anyone for that matter. He stared down and spotted the arms still there.
And another pair around his waist.
Who the...?
"We really got otou-sama that time!"
"Yeah! Did you see him pull out Senbonzakura?"
"It was awesome!"
"Where's that big scaredy cat? She has to see this!"
"Hey, Hey! Tousan! Can you show it to us again?"
Byakuya did not say anything. Right after the first exclamation, his mind and ability to reason had run to the hills, leaving him simply a shell of a man, standing there, petrified to the core.
A/N: DUH DUN DUN!!! darkangel1910 got it right! So... this is the part where I say I'm glad for having an eight year-old brother. Not that I am already, but the kid can get awfully annoying at times, especially due to the fact that there's a pretty large age gap between the both of us. Meh. The kid's probably driving my other brother back home crazy. Anyway, R&R. Please. I need to see the general reaction to you-know-what.
