As tended to happen with chained events such as mysterious explosions and unexpected visitors, periods of uneasy silence fell upon those involved. While anxiety was the general emotion brought forth by these times, they also afforded at least a few hours of peaceful reflection.
The sun was warm upon her back as she knelt in the slowly recovering garden. Rich, black topsoil caressed the scarred and calloused skin of her hands while it was pressed carefully around the roots of the young plant she was placing into the earth. Blue seemed to be the color for her in the Soul Society, as again, she was clad in a kimono dyed deep azure. This one however was made of slightly courser fabric than the one previous. The broad, flowing sleeves were tied up around her shoulders to expose long, sleekly muscled arms.
The wound from Byakuya's blade had finally healed to the point of being strong enough to be able to breath without bandaging – now a raised line of vibrant pink, which ran down her forearm from elbow to fingertips. She'd born those kinds of gashes before, and knew that, with time, it would fade to white, then perhaps lower a little, though probably not much. Higher on that same arm, there was another scar – this one old and slightly warped by the growth of the bearer, but also obviously from a blade. This particular mark was twined with a detailed tattoo of a vine ornamented by tiny thorns, leaves, and ruby roses. The left arm was mostly unscathed, save for twin puckers left by a bullet – one on the triceps where the projectile had entered, and its slightly larger twin upon the bicep where it had made its exit, slightly off center. It had shattered part of the humerus, and barely missed the main artery of the limb.
Battle memories were the last things on her mind, however. She dug another hole in the waiting earth, and reached for a second plant with an already dirt stained hand. The juvenile greenery had only just been slipped from its erstwhile cradle when she sensed a familiar, powerful presence behind her.
Bright green eyes rose to cold grey.
Byakuya Kuchiki stood there, impassive as ever to the casual observer. Upon closer examination, however, the keen observer would notice the subtly arched brow. "What are you doing?"
She grinned up at the noble as she loosened the root-ball, and then turned back to her work. "Helping to fix what I ruined. What are you doing?"
He disregarded her flippant question, noting silently how vividly the braided flame stood out against the deep blue of her robes. "You don't need to."
"Of course not." There was a flash of emerald when she glanced contemplatively over her shoulder before returning to digging a final hole for the last plant. "Doesn't mean I don't want to." Carefully, tenderly, she slipped the greenery from the pot and gently kneaded the root ball into the right consistency, before placing it in its new home. "You could call it an expression of honor. Even if I didn't mean to, I still wrecked your sanctuary. Why shouldn't I try to remedy at least part of the situation?" Her hands were graceful and strong as they finished tucking plant in.
"I see." He caught the rough chuckle his comment elicited from her damaged throat, and watched as she brushed her hands free of loose dirt, gathered the three empty pots and handed them off to the silent assistant gardener who'd appeared before them.
The slender dark man bowed to them both and glanced nervously at the noble towering over them both. He didn't dare meet his superior's eyes, but was obviously relieved to scurry off to the rest of his duties at Kuchiki's dismissive nod.
Byakuya allowed himself to take the young woman's appearance in. She was naturally pale, though not unhealthily so – skin more of a soft pink than a pallid grey. A charming, unexpected sprinkle of freckles fell over her nose and cheeks, unnoticeable at a distance, but evident when examined closely. Despite the scars lacing her exposed arms and the ones her clothing no doubt hid, the skin on her face was clear. "How long have you been working out here?"
A dirty hand brushed its back across her sweat dampened forehead, leaving a small trail of black over the soft skin there. "A few hours." She glanced around. "The place is coming together..."
He nodded, then abruptly turned towards the house. "Indeed it is. Come."
Confusion blanked her face, before she caught up with his lengthy stride. "Where are we going?"
"To clean you up." His voice was calm, though commanding as ever. This time, however, the omnipresent edge was dulled.
Another pause, before her rough voice spoke dryly, "Why, Byakuya, I had no idea."
He blinked, then looked curiously at her out of the corner of his eye. "Excuse me?"
"You want to 'clean me up', hm?" A fair brow arched, coral lips curved in a wickedly entertained grin.
"You will clean yourself up." The unreadable expression softened minutely due to a slight upward curve of his mouth. "I'm simply providing the facilities."
She snapped her fingers in pseudo disappointment. "Way to get a girl's hopes up," there was only teasing mirth in her tone. Diana highly doubted she'd turn aside his attentions, in the unlikely event they be offered, though. If she were honest with herself, a certain tattooed man drew her more than the authoritative man before her. She shook her head and shoved the inappropriate thoughts away in favor of observing the structure they stepped in to.
He paused with her once they'd removed their sandals, and quirked a brow at the way she was gazing down the long hallway. The floors were gleaming hardwood, as they should be. "Is something wrong?"
"Not at all. I'm just wondering about something." An impish grin lit suddenly upon her visage.
Byakuya had the feeling he was going to regret the next question, but morbid curiosity spurred him on. "Oh? And what is that?"
"Ok, less of an uncertainty, more of an image in my head." Tapered fingers laced together at the back of her head as she glanced up at him. "Captain Kuchiki, did you ever slide down these hallways in your stocking feet as a child?"
His eyes widened slightly at the thought, "Of course not. Why would I do such a foolish thing?" Even for a child, such behavior was frowned upon, regardless of the fact it went on when the adults were paying no attention.
It was really just the beginnings of shunpo. At least that's what the adult standing in that polished hallway told himself silently. He carefully ignored the snicker from Senbonsakura in the back of his head.
"I don't believe you." She smirked slowly as she examined the storm cloud grey of his gaze. "I bet you did it all the time."
He cleared his throat and gathered his dignity around him like a cloak. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You're protesting too much." That smile broadened and sharpened. "Hey, I bet you did it just last week."
Byakuya suddenly found himself wondering why he'd invited this puckish creature into his home. "Don't be silly." He did, however, pause. "Alright. You're correct, but it only happened once. Perhapse twice." His gaze was unwavering as he began down the cause of their conversation.
"Last week?" Her arms fell to her sides and she glanced mischievously up at him as she kept pace. "Feel up to it now?"
"No, not last week." He clamped a graceful hand upon her sun warmed shoulder, and shook his head slightly at the gruff laugh which lifted itself from the ill-treated throat in response. "And no, not now." Nevertheless, a traitorous grin did lift the corners of his mouth at the woman's foolishness.
"Such a shame." The braid rustled softly as it brushed against the fabric upon her back.
"Oh?" The Kuchiki again glanced down at the woman by his side. "Why is that?"
Humor drained unexpectedly from her demeanor, leaving a somber, somehow regal expression in its place. "I've always thought those things were a great expression of joy." Wistful jade met polished river rock. "The feeling of freedom, no matter how brief, always brought me out of whatever slump worries put me in."
"So, it's something you did as a child." Intrigued, he watched her move as they strode smoothly down the impeccable hallway.
"Once or twice," she smirked up at him and shrugged elegantly. "I get the feeling that sort of thing was just as taboo for you as it was for me." She faced forward again, "Too far below our social stations."
An ebon brow lifted, "I wasn't aware America had nobility."
"Not in the same sense as here, no." She clasped her hands before her. How he knew of her nationality was beyond her, but these people seemed to know a lot that they really shouldn't. "At least in my world. I don't know if your Earth is like mine, but where I came from, the more money you had, the higher your status and the more power you had. So, our upbringings were probably pretty similar, anyway - dry parties to be shown off at, learning who to bow or curtsy to, how to laugh politely at some stupid joke if told by the right person, reaching up to be the perfect adult in a perfect child's body. Heaven forbid if you didn't succeed, hm?"
It rang a great, gonging bell within him, but he refused to allow the sadness of a childhood lost pierce his calm mask. That sort of emotion was just as taboo as youthful joy. "It doesn't sound as if you particularly enjoyed it."
"Not really." Again, she shrugged, then glanced up at the dark haired man. "Did you?"
He mirrored her shrug. "It was my duty. It still is."
The red-head paused and took his wrist, before she turned to face him fully. "Is it what you wanted, though?"
He frowned, and cool contemplation met warm curiosity. "What I want does not matter when it comes to my responsibility."
"True, but what of your life?" Fiery curls fell into emerald with her head tilt. "Your happiness?"
"I am the head of the Kuchiki family, a captain of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads." Hisana's beautiful, tragic face floated to his mind's eye. Easily, he removed his wrist from her relaxed grip. "What else would I want?"
A wan smile subtly curved the red-head's lips, but her eyes remained somber. "Heh," she let her hand fall to her side. "I think you already know the answer to that. I can see the sorrow in your eyes." She shook her head and held a hand out in invitation for him to resume the lead. "I guess that song holds a lot of truth."
"And what song is that?" Byakuya resumed his stride as he spoke.
"An old one, classic rock from before I was taken," her smile was sad. "'You can't get what you want, but if you try, you'll get what you need.'"
He smirked. "Wise words indeed." Without further comment, he led the rest of the way to the private bath house.
I love the image of Byakuya sliding down the hallway so very much. XD I can just see him stopping dead in his tracks - looking left, then looking right and taking a running start before sliiiiiiiiding! "Weeeeeeee!"SO diginified.
If anyone's wondering, the song Di quoted is by the Rolling Stones, You Can't Always Get What You Want.