"You're joking."
Byakuya frowned at what clearly the wrong response to his offer. The nimble house servant slipped out of his hands, ducking away, but he pursued her down the servant's hall.
"I do no such thing," he huffed, reaching out to snag an elbow. He swung violet eyes around to meet his. "I am completely in earnest."
"Well then, you're completely insane!" The feisty maid twisted, but he held her this time. "Nobles don't marry the help!"
Despite himself, Byakuya stiffened, radiating hurt. "You have not refused me before this." Hisana blushed, her own memories of the heated make-out sessions they had stolen together suffusing her face. "You wanted me then, knowing my station. You would have me judge you now, based on yours?" Byakuya drew back, dark eyes flashing passionately. "Is that truly all that you think you are? To me? You have seen past my rank and status; can you not do the same for yourself?"
Her eyes dropped as Hisana made a half-hearted attempt to hide her sudden flush of insecurity. "Your family will freak out."
"They will accept you as a daughter." Hisana snorted; Byakuya flared obstinately and with no small amount of naivete. "I am the Clan Head; they will do as they are told."
Eyes still downcast, Hisana squirmed for another reason. "The servants will hate me."
"Hate you?" Byakuya cocked his head slightly. "Would they not be happy to see one of their own rise?"
"It's not just that..." Hisana refused to say more, trying again to duck away from him. "Let me go - I need time to think about it."
"Time to think?" Byakuya stilled in a way that instantly stopped her writhing. "For months we have sought each other in every alcove and servant nook; was it all nothing to you? Was it all a game?" He glared. "Were you falling in love with me, or just trying to seduce the Heir of the Kuchiki Clan?"
Hisana eyes sparkled with a grim kind of triumph. "See? There - even you question it. How much more will everyone else?" And then she was there in his arms, kissing his face to soften the blow, trying to draw him out off his stiff hurt. "No one will believe that people like us could truly fall in love - hell, I can hardly believe it sometimes..."
"What matters only is what I think." Byakuya asserted, responding to her kisses. "I want you, Hisana. Marry me for love - you might be the only chance I ever have..."
This time, her lips stopped his. In the heat the followed, it was hours before he realized she'd said yes.
Byakuya woke up the next morning in slow, miserable stages. The dreams had returned with feverish intensity, drugging him into a hazy, restless sleep that saw him waking much later than was his norm. The sun was already high, its strong beams streaming through the window and setting the room uncomfortably hot. Groaning, Byakuya forced his grainy eyes to open; the day must be faced, no matter how poorly he might be feeling.
Easier said than done; his body was stiff and achy with the tidal wave of need that had gone unrequited the night before. Long schooled to control and reservation, Byakuya was rather horrified to find that once awoken, his innate desires and exigencies were rather unwilling to be quelled. That such a thing was perfectly normal for a relatively young, healthy and married man cut no ice with Kuchiki Byakuya. He had long ago perfected the art of cool composure and would damn his soul before surrendering it, especially after last night's humiliation; he needed his armor now more than ever. So, ignoring the lateness of the morning, Byakuya forced himself into a meditative posture and breathed deeply and calmly, waiting for equilibrium to be restored to him.
A soft knock at his door interrupted him. Letting his eyes drift halfway open, Byakuya answered with some measure of poise restored. It was only a surface calm, but it would do.
"Yes?"
A manservant entered, eyes pinned to the ground and a silver tray proffered. "A message for you, my Lord Kuchiki..."
Without a word, Byakuya lifted a hand; the servant scuttled forward to put the tray within reach. With a flick of his wrist, Byakuya simultaneously accepted the note and dismissed the servant. Breaking the seal, his hooded eyes quickly skimmed the brief message.
Your presence is requested at tea this evening.
It was signed by his wife.
With a quiet curse - and a momentary wondering when he had developed this habit for epithets - Byakuya rose to face what could only turn out to be a disastrous day.
It was long after dark before Byakuya was able to respond to his summons. As much as he had hoped and prayed that his day full of meetings and squad demands would slow the passage of time down to a langorous tedium, it had brazenly sped on without his consent. The result was that he found himself standing outside the doorway to Kazumi's chambers without a single idea of what to say or how to handle the evening ahead of him.
At least he didn't have to wonder for too long.
"Please enter, Byakuya-sama."
The quiet voice drifting through the screens brought an instant flush to Byakuya's chiseled face, one he quickly supressed in a flash of chagrin. Kazumi might not be shinigami, but she clearly had some access to reiatsu and it would not have been difficult to sense his spirit power hovering in the hall. She was probably at least sensitive enough to know how long he had been standing there; a fitting enough beginning to what could only be an evening heaped with embarrassment. With a tiny shake, he told himself to add it to the list of things he had to apologize for, and studiously drew the screen door open.
Only one step into Kazumi's outer reception room saw him halting in surprise, lovely scents assaulting him. The room was a veritable greenhouse of plants, a tiny garden in its own right. Blossoms covered one entire wall, most of the plants unrecognizable to him, although he did notice the african violets of which Kazumi seemed to be so fond. As he drew further into the lush, fragrant room, he also discerned a crawling vine of jasmine, the delicious sent reminding him far too vividly of the way his wife had smelled in his arms...
The sharp, stinging reminder from the previous night was instantly sobering; Byakuya turned to leave the room with as much haste as possible while still maintaining his poise. Moving quickly through the outer chambers, he peered around for Kazumi, studiously ignoring the one room in which he had so assiduously disgraced himself just the night before. Trying to burn out the mental picture of his abominable behavior, he schooled himself to calm and passed along into the adjacent chamber that opened out into the garden complex.
He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Entering the small room, Byakuya could not keep an eyebrow from twitching in surprise as he drew to another halt. Tatami mats were laid out in formal arrangement around a hearth, where the utensils and apparatus for a formal chanoyu ceremony sat in obvious anticipation of his arrival. He hesitated; this was worse than he could imagine. Even the most simple of chanoyu would last the better part of an hour, and it had been his intention to deliver his apologies and retreat to his own rooms for a scathing night of gulity introspection with as much dignity as he could still claim. Even considering that chanoyu generally demanded little in the way of conversation, it was the last thing he could have hoped for. Before he could decide how to handle this new development, his wife entered the room.
Kazumi moved in the short, smooth steps demanded of her by the formal iromuji in which she was attired. The silk kimono gleamed a deep golden color that set off Kazumi's dark coloring and eyes beautifully, draping gracefully over her lithe figure and rustling softly with her movements. A crimson fan tucked into silver obi stood out in sharp contrast that somehow complimented the entire outfie. Her hair was swept up into a deceptively simple-looking arrangement held in place by masterfully placed and ornately decorated combs. Byakuya felt the moisture abandoning his tongue; the very picture of a noble princess, Kazumi was utterly stunning.
Camly, she met his dark eyes, gracefully gesturing for him to be seated. Byakuya, oddly enough, found a removed sort of comfort in the formality, even though his general trepidation over the evening remained pervasive. Taking his place, he let the scent of tea - matcha, complimented with spices - surround him as he tried to figure out how to begin the evening's discourse with the least amount of awkwardness. Engaging in the graceful and prescribed movements of the tea ceremony, Kazumi reached for the chashaku and relieved him of the burden.
"Thank you for coming this evening, Lord Husband," she murmured, the docility of the tone surprising Byakuya. "I'm sure you would not argue with the fact that there is much to clarify between us. I know chanoyu does not allow for much conversation, but I was hoping we might be able to speak openly." Kazumi's eyes remained properly lowered as she carefully spooned the tea leaves into the waiting pot, giving Byakuya time to find her frankness disconcerting.
"Speak...on what?" It was not exactly dignified, but it was the best Byakuya could do at the moment. This woman unsettled him in ways he could not begin to fathom.
Slanted, impossibly dark eyes met his. "Oh, I'm sure we could think of something." Lips quirked upwards in wry humor before Kazumi relented with a sigh. "You came to my room last night with an offer, one I did not have the opportunity to understand fully. You offered me your protection."
Byakuya started. That was not the point on which he would have expected her to seek clarification. "Yes," he said slowly; he had the overwhelming feeling that he was treading on quicksand.
Pausing while she waited for the leaves to steep, Kazumi met his eyes again, earnestness pooling deep in the dark orbs. "I would like to know what you meant by that."
Byakuya watched her for a long moment, marshalling his response. "It is largely my refusal to publically claim you as my wife that has allowed the attempts on your life to take place." It was the safest answer, and truthful besides; the rest was too embarrasing to touch on.
Kazumi seemed to consider that, taking a moment to check on the tea. "If that was your only intention, then claiming my publically would be sufficient to ensure my safety." Dark, slanted eyes met his through the steam floating lazily between them as the chawan was stirred; this wife of his was not wont to let him off so easily.
Byakuya shifted until his gaze locked on the simple, graceful movements of Kazumi's hands; it was vastly preferrable to meeting her eyes. "It would not be honorable to claim you publically without doing so privately," he stated quietly. "It would be...dishonest."
Kazumi carefully and with proper ceremony began to pour the tea. "I thought it might be something like that," she murmured. Little else was said until both bowls were filled and lifted to lips. Byakuya sipped his own; it was steeped to perfection. Glancing up at his wife, he was surprised to find her blushing faintly.
Without looking up from her tea bowl, Kazumi spoke with clear determination. "I wish to formally apologize for humiliating you last night."
She then went on to sip serenely, allowing Bkyauka the chance to start at her bluntness and fight a blush of his own. He nonetheless hurried to correct her.
"Nonesense," he grated stiffly. "It is I who should apologize..."
Kazumi cut him off, her eyes flashing. "For what, Byakuya-sama? For wanting to lay with your own wife?"
Byakuya very nearly swallowed his own tongue. Heat rushed to his face, as well as - to his intense mortification - somewhere considerably lower. He floundered for a moment, trying to find his voice, but Kazumi just barrelled on.
"Let me guess," she snapped, her composure slipping further by the word. "You've spent the better part of the day flaying yourself for forcing your ardor on a grieving widow? For letting your passions run rampant, when I couldn't possibly want the same in return??" Her eyebrow twitched as Byakuya's chest seized with a painful twinge; how the hell did she know that??
Finally - finally - he found his voice, more from anger than anything else. "Your husband was killed in the line of duty barely months ago...it was not right to...for me to..." Godsdammit all, why couldn't he speak!?
Kazumi actually bared teeth. "And what do you know of me, or of my late husband?" Black eyes flashed, cold as death. "You think everyone is madly in love and goes on grieving forever? You think that your own pain translates exactly the same to everyone else??" Her jaw clacked shut, blush deepening, as she returned to the smooth and controlled movements of the tea ceremony. It was at distinct odds with the fervor of her words, which tumbled ruthlessly through Byakuya's mind.
With a wrench, he saw Kazumi's point. He knew next to nothing of this woman, no matter their matrimonial status. It was unseemly to project his own reservations onto someone he barely knew. A long silence followed, filled with the rote demands of chanoyu, before Byakuya spoke softly.
"Tell me of him." Black eyes met deepest blue, softening slightly in earnestness. "If you will."
Kazumi stared back, considering. When she finally spoke, Byakuya found himself listening carefully.
"Jun was a good husband," Kazumi said quietly. "I did not love him, and he knew it, but he was a good man and over the years there was a certain regard that sprang up between us. I...respected him, although I know that he felt more for me than I did for him." That admission seemed to cut deeply; Kazumi's cheeks darkened. "He was good to my son, while he lived. I was always grateful for that."
"Why would he not be good to his own son?" The words poured out before Byakuya could couch them appropriately.
"Jun was not Hajime's father," Kazumi all but whispered, meeting his eyes carefully. "His father was a Rukongian blacksmith, whom I was forbidden to see."
Byakuya felt his left eye twitch. "You were married off to someone within Clan, then. To save face." It wasn't a question.
Kazumi's nod confirmed it. "Yuuma and I loved passionately, if briefly. My love for him was intense, but I was young and naiive. I thought, since I was a lower member of the Clan, that I would be allowed to love whom I chose." Her eyes tightened in old, tired sorrow. "It was only a few years into our affair that I found I was with child. And the moment I displayed the genetic trait for true-births that my mother carried, my value to the Clan increased considerably." Kazumi smiled sadly. "It was not long before Yuuma conveniently disappeared. I was remarried within weeks, before Yuuma and my love-child was even born."
Byakuya felt a growl in the back of his throat, but stubbornly refused to let it be voiced. Kazumi seemed to hear it anyway, her smile softening.
"It was a long time ago," she conceded. "I've come to understand the actions of the Shihouin Clan, even if they still cut. And while my son lived, the loss of my love was tolerable." Shadows crossed her pale face. "Losing Hajime was the hardest. I did not know pain like that existed, until he breathed his last in my arms."
For a moment, Byakuya too felt breathless, echoes of a shared nightmare pulling at his memory. "I am sorry."
Kazumi seemed to shake herself slightly, wan face regaining some of its animation as she smiled gently. "It, also, was a long time ago. So, while losing Jun in the War was not the most pleasant thing to have happened to me, neither was it the worst." Her delicate features firmed, her eyes meeting his with determination. "I swore I would never marry again without love."
"And then you married me." Even to his own ears, Byakuya's voice was sharp enough to cut steel. For a moment, the familiar tidal wave of self-recrimination threatened to overwhelm him...
But a small hand on his own drew Byakuya out of himself. Kazumi looked grim.
"I have another confession to make," she whispered. "It is my fault that you lived."
Byakuya felt his eyebrows draw together, but Kazumi continued.
"You were dying, and your councillors were desperate..." Loudly, she swallowed, refusing to meet his eyes. "I did not wish to refuse my duty, so I accepted an engagment of sorts...and then you spoke in your delirium, binding us..." Black eyes snapped up to meet his. "It was good enough for your concilors, but not for me."
Byakuya felt a wave of befuddlement; none of this admission made sense. Kazumi blushed deeper, her eyes dropping to the floor.
"I told you, I have...some measure of healing ability. I..." She took a deep breath. "I examined you, and saw someone worth keeping alive. Someone I could...possibly learn to love, given the chance. Someone who wanted to live..." A shudder ran through her. "I anchored you, and gave you a chance to survive. You did the rest, recovering against all odds...but at the beginning at least, it was my interference that kept you from slipping away." Her voice trailed off into a whisper, her entire posture bowed in shame. She seemed unable to stop trembling.
For half a lifetime, Byakuya stared at her, his brain frozen. When his hand reached out, gently, to touch her chin and tilt her face to meet his, he barely knew what he was doing.
"Why did you save me?"
She swallowed, looking haunted. "You wanted me to."
Byakuya jerked his hand back, the words searing him. Something in his chest felt tight, as if every vein in his body was on fire. "How can you say these things to me?" he grated, reeling. The world seemed to turn on its end. "What do you know of what I want?"
Kazumi's eyes burned as she leaned towards him in challenge. "I know that you will always love Hisana," she hissed, her voice heated if bearing an odd sort of concession. "You wanted to live to keep her memory alive."
This was madness; to discuss such things with this infuriating woman... "And you would accept such from a husband?" Byakuya clipped in reply, his voice colder than he could ever remember it being.
Kazumi seemed unfazed, the heat in her eyes meeting the ice in his tone. "You would ask me to forget my son?"
"Of course not," Byakuya snapped without thinking. Inexplicably, Kazumi's eyes lit in a kind of grim victory. All kinds of lights started to go off in his head...
"And so, here we are,"Kazumi murmured quietly, her eyes molten but dead earnest. "Two people who have loved and lost, and who have every reason never to risk dropping their guard again." Byakuya felt his breath catch with desire at the utter earnesty in her eyes. "I don't ask that you forget your dead wife, as long as you concede that nothing will ever replace my dead child." Her head tilted, eyes glimmering with challenge. "So now, how are we going to choose? To be miserable forever? Or to accept the possibility of a second chance..."
Byakuya crossed the room without thought, the table flying out of the way as he grabbed Kazumi and threw her against the wall, pinning her there. He couldn't decide if he wanted to kill her or ravage her senseless...
"You ask too much of me." The words nearly tore his throat as Byakuya spoke them, his mouth drying with desire at the heated, fervid look in her eyes.
"Yes," Kazumi breathed. "I do not ask that you stop loving your dead wife. But I do ask, that if you wish to be with me," she trailed off; with a sudden hitch, she wrapped herself around him, lifting herself into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. "That you be with me." Breath hot on his throat, she trailed a few blazing kisses along his jaw. "Is it so much to ask that you consider the possibility of loving again...?"
Byakuya groaned, his eyes sliding shut, agony mingled with desire. "This can only cause pain for both of us..." he gasped, even as his fingers started to trace the outline of her jaw...
"Are you hurting any less, having chosen never to love again?" Kazumi pulled back, forcing his face to meet hers. Black eyes bore into him. "Life will hurt you, Kuchiki Bykuya, whether you stand behind your walls or before them. Even Senbonzakura cannot change that. That much is in evitable."
Love. Pain. So goddamned inevitable...
Without another word, Byakuya reached up and tore the kimono his wife wore in two. It was too much, it was all too much...pain and desire and fear and lust all mingled together, sinking him into a deep passion that he did not recognize as anything but a blind sort of madness. The feral growl that emitted from Kazumi only egged him on; feverishly, Byakuya tried to consume every inch of soft, fragrant skin he could find, hands and lips and tongue devouring every tasty morsel within reach. Kazumi's supple body writhed beneath his touch, responding to the heat of the moment with a passion that blinded his every objection. The strength and eagerness of her body, entwined ruthlessly with his, nearly drove Byakuya bezerk. Not only was he far too long without physical amelioration, but he was utterly intoxicated by the fierceness of her reaction. Hisana had been a willing and generous lover, but not a challenging one...
Kazumi was the spectral opposite, drawing every ounce of attention and passion out of Byakuya, insisting on a defiant kind of absorption that was beyond reason or resistance. His mouth devoured hers, even as she gave back as good as she got, challenging him to drink deeper, tongue flickering like a wild animal. The silken encumbrance of her clothing seemed to shed itself, gleaming fabric slithering to the floor even as Kazumi's strong hands tugged insistently at his robes. This time, Byakuya was far too feverish to even think of resisting; with a growl, he tore off his hakima even as Kazumi's hands fumbled at the obi holding everything together. Senbonzakura clattered to the floor with nary a protest as the final barriers between hot flesh were ruthlessly discarded...
Sliding into the tight, wet heat of his wife nearly cost Byakuya his sanity. With a rough gasp, he thrust himself deeply, again and again, Kazumi's frantic cries tearing through his mind and shredding whatever lucidity he had left. Moments or minutes or hours vanished into the dark, searing claiming of flesh, senses and sanity spiraling downward in a relentless, furious rush of intoxicating luxury...
They came together, white oblivion searing the senses down to the bone, their cries mingling and rendering the air with furious, bacchic intensity. Byakuya felt his eyes fly open at the moment of fruition, the culmination of years of self-denial demanding that he drink in the deepest of luxuries with full, mind-shattering awareness. Black eyes met his from only a breath away, the heat and intensity of the gaze throwing him over the brink, as her name ripped itself from his lips...
"Kazumi..!"
Black eyes slid shut in ecstasy as she came around him, shuddering with an exultant cry that threatened to brand Byakuya's soul. Clutching him frantically, Kazumi whispered his name over and over again as he thrust himself with slow, absolute movements into her tight heat, his breath tearing at his throat as the tingling aftershocks of his orgasm tremored through him. The next eternity was eclipsed with burning, slowing gasps as together they regained their senses, black eyes staring intently into deepest blue.
It was forever before he remembered how to speak. "Wife..." Byakuya gasped, marvelling at the roguish, foreign sound that his own mouth emitted.
"Shh," Kazumi shushed, lips hot and hard against his. She seemed to be smiling. "You said my name..."
The air rushed out of Byakuya's lungs in a woosh as he crushed the lithe, supple body against his. "Kazumi, I-"
"Shut up," she murmured, claiming his mouth again insistently. "Say my name, and take me again..."
