09 Poetry in Motion

"Keep him still and well rested for at least a few days if you can."

A faint smile lengthened Hisana's lips as she thought over Unohana's words. They had left the infirmary only two days ago, and, indeed, Hisana had her hands full with keeping the Lord of the House quiet. The Captain of the Fourth Division had a canny understanding of her patients.

'If only she knew… But, then again she probably did…'

Keeping Byakuya still and rested was nigh impossible. He was restless, restive, and completely insufferable when restrained.

'It's like trying to keep a butterfly's wings from fluttering – like tethering a hummingbird,' Hisana mused, staring through a window looking out onto the garden. It was raining, and she was oddly enraptured by the event.

"Perhaps, the rain will keep him quiet," she muttered softly under her breath. The moment her lips closed, however, she regretted having uttered the latter.

"Oh, and you think you are any better at being a patient?" Byakuya scoffed as he noiselessly entered the room.

Hisana's eyes widened instinctively the moment she heard the deep and familiar intonations. Fighting back her shock and embarrassment, she turned and offered him a polite smile. "I suppose you have a point," she replied in a breezily voice.

He tried hard not return her airy sentiments. Instead, his look hardened, and he turned to slide open the door to the garden.

'He likes watching the rain too, huh?' Hisana tilted her head to the side as she watched him. His coloring still was a shade or so too pale, and even though he tried to hide it, she could detect a slight limp when he walked.

She giggled involuntarily the moment her gaze lowered. She squeezed her eyelids shut as her fit of giggling turned into one of blatant laughter.

Her chuckling elicited a sidelong glance from Byakuya. "What?" he asked; his voice was uncharacteristically gruff.

She opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on the bokutō he was attempting to use as a cane. Perhaps, over the last four years of marriage she had come to know him too well. Or maybe, given the circumstances, she was particularly sensitive to his actions. Either way, she liked to think she was not so easily fooled.

"Where are you going?" she asked coyly, ignoring his question.

Byakuya's gaze tellingly fell to the wooden sword gripped in his hand. Catching himself, he immediately averted his attention to his wife. "I was going --"

Hisana gracefully took to her feet, quickly silencing her husband. She crossed the room, and with a cool yet firm touch, she placed her hand over his. Gently, she slid her hand down to the bokutō, and wrapped her fingers around the slick wood. "You were going to train," she observed slyly as she parted him from his bokutō.

His expression blackened in response. She had found him out. Although, he had to admit that his plan was rather obvious.

Hisana combated his dark glare with a cheerful look of her own. "Captain Unohana would be very displeased if I did not follow her orders."

He glowered at her for a moment before speaking. "And, torturing me was part of the instructions?"

Thinking better of laughing, Hisana pressed her lips firmly together. 'He really is not use to being told "no,"' she noted – far too amused for her own good.

Realizing that he probably would not respond well to prodding, Hisana took his hand in her own hand and laced her fingers through his. "Come," she suggested in a low breathy voice, sliding the outside door shut.

Byakuya was feeling rather foul and bilious, yet her longing tug proved too much to ignore. He gave a snort of dissatisfaction, but he followed nonetheless. "Where are we going?" his question came off sounding discordant, yet his firm grip on her hand betrayed his true emotions.

Hisana smiled to herself as she led him through the winding corridors of the vast Kuchiki estate. Arriving at the library, she paused in front of the shoji doors. She turned her head slightly so she could glimpse his mien. He looked like an explanation was in order before he would take another step forward.

Hisana lowered her head as she summoned a look of repose. She turned on her heels, and gave a faint but noticeable bow before beginning: "I was informed by a very reliable source about one of your hobbies."

Byakuya appeared unmoved when she looked up to evaluate his countenance.

"… and since you are supposed to be resting, I thought, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, that you would perhaps instruct me in the art of calligraphy," she added, lowering her gaze to the well polished floorboards under her. She inhaled a deep breath the moment she felt him readjust his grip on her hand. She was hesitantly waiting for him to release her – to express his dissatisfaction with her suggestion. In that moment, as his grasp loosened, Hisana braced herself against the prospect of abandonment. When she felt his grip tighten against her hand once more, her gaze shot up to him imploringly. Their eyes met, and she felt assured that he was not angry or discontented with her.

Wordlessly, he led her down another corridor – one that she was quite unfamiliar with. 'Where are we going?' the question lingered heavy on her tongue, burning to be asked. She, however, swallowed any temptation to make a sound. Instead, she obediently followed in her husband's wake.

Their journey came to an end once they had reached a rather innocuous shoji door – one Hisana was sure she had never opened, or even noticed before. In fact, as she gave the area a cursory scan, she was not sure she had ever traveled down that particular hallway.

Byakuya quietly slid back the door to reveal a capacious room empty of all luxuries and adornments. 'I wonder how long it has been since someone has been in here?' Hisana mused the moment she crossed over the room's threshold. The floors were perfectly polished, and the room was spotless, but there was a sterility about the room that did not sit well with her. If a room could feel sad and abandoned, then this room was crying.

At some point during Hisana's initial observation of the area, Byakuya had released her hand, and had wandered over to a closet stationed in the right-hand corner of the room. Hisana's head bobbed up once she realized he was no longer by her side. Instinctively, she panned the room to find him fetching two strange instruments out of the closet. They were long, thin, wooden tools; at the end of each looked to be horse hair.

Examining the strange objects, Hisana furrowed her brow. She took a few steps forward toward the middle of the room. Again, she had to suppress the urge to ask him what was happening. She felt that such a question would hang too abrasively in the tranquil air of the room. And, Byakuya looked pensive as he adjusted his grip on the strange instruments.

'I wonder what he is thinking,' she mused absently to herself. His brows were lowered, and his eyes remained on the objects he was handling. Lost in her thoughts, Hisana watched as he neared a door leading to the outside. She probably would have continued mindlessly observing him if he had not turned to summon her with a single look.

Hisana shuffled across the floor and followed him outside. It was still raining, she noted after she had closed the door behind her. Both, however, were sheltered from the wetness by a covering that hung over the walkway.

Byakuya paused for a moment to watch the rain fall in glistening streams. Hisana quietly neared him on the walkway.

"Here," he stated deadpan, and then handed her one of the strange objects.

Hisana blinked, confused. She tilted her head to the side, pondering what in the world he was getting at. She had wanted him to teach her calligraphy. 'I suppose if you look at this thing just right, it sort of resembles a brush,' she thought to herself, half-amused by her own observation. She then turned her attention back to her husband, who was using the rain water to soak the tip of his "brush".

Hisana watched him as he penned out a verse on the sidewalk:

"Swifter than hail

Lighter than a feather

A vague sorrow

Crossed my mind"

She had just finished reading the poem he had written in water on the cement when she felt the burn of his gaze heat her skin. Somehow, she had the vague feeling that it was her "turn".

She offered him a nervous smile before drawing to his side. "I'm unsure," she began, all of sudden feeling very self-conscious. She attempted a stroke, but she could not easily hide her trembling hands. She immediately made a face at her blunder.

"It matters not." Byakuya leaned his brush against a thin post, and gently molded her into position. His touch was surprisingly tender and light, which only made her feel more lacking and clumsy holding the life-sized brush. "Calligraphy is the art of perfect accidents."

She grinned inwardly at his comment. 'Accidents I think I can handle…'

Trying to calm her nerves, she chuckled breezily. "You know, when I conceptualized a calligraphy lesson I wasn't expecting this. I was -"

Byakuya, however, cut her off the moment he began guiding her movements. His body was warm pressed against her – like a blanket. His touch and prompts were featherlike and malleable. Against her, he almost felt like another skin. She had to admit the experience was rather sensual. From the sound of the rain pounding in her ears, to the warmth of his breath in her hair. Hisana had no choice but to feel absorbed in the process.

'I wonder if this is similar to what it feels like to swordfight?' she mused as she took a small step backwards. 'If it is, then it makes sense why he would want to teach me in this way… No wonder he misses it so much…'

Caught in her thoughts, Hisana fumbled a little. She let out a light gasp only to be quieted by Byakuya.

"It's alright," he stated firmly before guiding her next movement.

A smile lengthened her lips and she took in a deep breath. When she was finished with the poem, she took a few steps backward to evaluate her work.

"It is good," he commented softly.

She blushed in response, and shook her head. "Any goodness in that can only be attributed to the quality of the teacher," she said turning to view him more fully. Byakuya looked down at her; his expression was soft, and he seemed to be in good spirits – a dramatic change from the black mood he had been in earlier that day.

"Your division is very lucky to have such a patient Captain," she said, inclining her head so her eyes could meet his gaze.

Wordlessly, Byakuya lowered his head in response. "Some would disagree with that --" he began in earnest but was quickly cut off. Hisana had stopped his lips with her own. Feeling her withdraw, Byakuya stayed her, deepening the kiss.

Warm and contented, Hisana ignored the loud "thunk" her brush made when it fell to the ground.

'A very good teacher, indeed… I just hope he doesn't have many other female students…' Hisana mused, feeling a pang of jealousy pelt her heart as she pondered the exact number of female adjutants he had under him…

AN:

The poem Byakuya uses was written by Akiko Yosano (a famous Japanese poet). I found it oddly fitting...