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AN:
OMG: As always I'm thrilled when you review! Truly, your support of this fiction is endearing. And I do believe you're right. OCs make ppl nervous- indeed- no one wants someone to jump in and mess up any of the dynamic relationships that have already formed among the cast. But I find as a writer, I have to have something of my own to manipulate- something I can fully control. Now that I think about it- I haven't seen too many ethnic OCs either-odd because Kubo himself has introduced some nice diversity. In any case: Thankyou, Thankyou, Thankyou, for your gracious reviews! Oh and you had me dying with that emotional retard comment! Could you imagine accusing him of that to his face? Hilarious!
Leyshla Gisel: Thanks very much for making me smile- maybe blush! Stick around!
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Fulfillment
Lesson 10:
Guilt is a Marriage of Conflict and Regret
The tension in the air pulsed around her. Perhaps it was only the strong beating of her heart, the anxiety forcing it to pound in her ears. She took a breath. What had she to fear? But it wasn't so much fear as it was the knowledge that a possible rift had formed. It had never been her intention to care so much in the first place, yet here she was- waiting for the cresting of the tidal waves.
She drew her injured arm closer to her chest, trying to keep her hand from forming a fist.
Ikarosu, her now self-appointed body guard, watched from inside the gate, his arms folded over his chest, a frown on his face. Feeling his eyes on her back, she smiled a reassurance over her shoulder. She gave a wave, hoping she did not betray her nerves. But she knew better than anyone that those with few words to speak could read a person's body with a glance.
The muscles in his shoulders were tight, knotted with worry. He was trying desperately to deny such futile emotions, but it clutched him with insistent fingers. He could still see the look on her face as the boy hurried her away from harm. He had seen it out of the corner of his eye, but still he could not miss the lost look on her face as though she were looking at a stranger, a dangerous outsider with a sword soaked in blood.
It had been a full day since he had seen her. She did not come to him the night of the incident and a strange feeling had swept over him for an instant. But such an emotion would not do. He had spent a lifetime wrapped in that feeling of longing for someone that would never return. How could he associate such a thing with this girl he had barely known a month? No. It was not fitting.
But as he waited it was with anticipation and yes, aggravation. She had put herself in a precarious situation. He had warned her. And yet within days of his admonition he had found her being roughly handled by some lowlife scum that fancied themselves yakuza. He could not find it within himself to forgive her foolishness so easily. He was a light sleeper as it was, but he had not made his way to bed at all the night before. Byakuya's patience was indeed thin tonight.
Her bow was stiff, not so gracefully executed as he was used to. Instantly his teeth clenched together, a heated sensation threatening to undo a century's worth of studied calm. But he felt it, white and creeping. Anger was blindness.
She took a breath, but did not know how to break the silence so she simply moved toward the table to begin their almost nightly ritual.
Just as Byakuya felt that last twinge of lingering irritation cooling in his veins, she began to gingerly prepare tea. Her movements were slower, less assured and he gripped his brush so tightly his hand shook. He could not concentrate on the reports on the desk in front of him for a long moment. But he managed to ease before the brush snapped, preventing her from becoming aware of his frustration. Somehow though, he knew she was not so naïve. Static buzzed in the quiet, the kind that with a little friction could become a crackling of electricity.
When she was done she waited. He managed to finish his report with a kind of numb consciousness. Finally he set the brush down and joined her at the table she had so carefully set with tea.
The silence between them was awkward as it had never been before.
He watched as she reached for her teacup. Her hands were small, she needed both to steady the cup and while she did so the delicate fingers shook slightly. He glimpsed the white bandage wrapped around her forearm from the sleeve of her kimono.
"Does your mistress not employ a proper healer?" He asked. His words were almost clipped, as he had spoken with a clenching of his jaw.
She set the teacup down gently before looking up at him. He knew better than to meet her gaze.
"There is a healer in the house. But she does not know kido if that is what you are referring to as proper." She found herself offended and could not wholly keep this from her voice. Again silence stole in, the air a mingling of their increasingly agitated emotions.
After a time he closed his eyes and said, "If you'd like I can heal you."
She was very still and then said softly, "The healer assured me it was not broken, only fractured…Besides… Is it not a lesson to me?" She looked up at him from under her lashes almost pointedly.
His eyes opened. All she could see was liquid silver, the same color as the blade that had caught the sunlight before severing her aggressor's arm.
She turned her head away, a wave of unease sweeping through her. It seemed as though her thoughts were laid bare before him. She was certain that he could see all her conflicting emotions regarding the day past filtering through her head with that omnipotent gray gaze.
"You do not approve of the way I handled that man." He stated.
She kept her voice steady, though her heart picked up pace in her chest, "I've no doubt you acted as you saw fit, my lord."
His eyes narrowed at her indirect answer, "He would have broken your arm."
"It is possible."
"And that would be preferable?" His voice hinted at more than coldness.
"I did not say that," She turned her head to look at him, but he once more would not meet her eyes. He turned his head away this time. She continued, "It's simply that mine can be mended- his cannot."
He lifted a brow in incredulity, "You expect me to pity him?" If not for my lieutenant's intrusion that scum would have suffered more than a severed arm. Lucky for that other pitiful miscreant that he slunk away or I would've taken something more precious to him than an arm…
"That man could not have matched you in a fight. Those of us of the Rukon Districts have no academies to train in." The edge and the implication were unmistakable.
His eyes narrowed further, "No, he could not have matched me. But he was no weakling to be able to crush a bone in his fist." He did not even balk at the fact that she had alluded to knowing his strength. Even though she was no adept at sensing spiritual pressure, she simply knew that the man before her was a paragon. Masking his reiatsu did little to diminish his overall affect.
"Even so…"
"Even so, should I not have stepped in?" His tone was growing defensive.
She breathed in deeply, but did not reply.
Byakuya sniffed. Then grasped at his stiff mask, "If you believe in the future you would not prefer anyone's assistance than perhaps I should teach you to spar-,"
"No!" She returned instantly shaking her head, "I've no desire to hold a sword!"
His gaze softened.
I know this… The kind of life I live was never meant for you. He wasn't sure of the meaning behind his own thoughts. The life of the sword was definitely not for her, not a path he could ever see her set upon, but there was more behind his inner monologue.
Xochitl drew her arm closer to her chest, holding it lightly with her other hand. She stared at the elegant porcelain tea set, simple, yet finer than any that might grace the tables in even the teashops in Seiretei.
After a time she said, "Forgive me. You came to help me… I've no right to question your judgment, my lord." She bowed slightly over the table, her words genuine.
Suddenly he was very tired. Tired of the tension, tired of his revolving and inconclusive thoughts, all in all tired of speaking.
He sighed, "Come." He gestured toward the pallet, "Let me see your arm." She nodded and rose.
When they kneeled in front of one another he held out his hand to her. She placed her arm in his hand with only a moment's hesitation. He rolled back her sleeve with consideration. When he had unwound the bandaging he paused. The herbs that had been wrapped against her arm to ease the discoloration had not taken much affect. The bruise was dark and ugly, even yellowed in places. He did not doubt it came with a throbbing sort of pain, a reminder of that crushing grip. Anger coiled in his belly again. He swallowed it down with the bile. He was very gentle when he ran his fingertips down her flesh to feel for the fracture, but even this made her wince. Just the touch of the air had seemed to push against the swollen flesh intent on causing pain.
Byakuya did not glance up at her face as he held both hands over her arm and spoke the words of a healing kido in his mind.
She bit her lip to keep from gasping as his spiritual pressure pulsed into her soothingly. The touch of his kido seemed to wander through her entire body, tendrils feathering her insides with warmth and comfort. Despite all of their unbridled passion in these last weeks, this; this was the most intimate touch she had ever experienced in their time together. The power of his reiatsu even swept down her legs, caressing the juncture between them.
He looked up in surprise as he heard her exhale, and realized she had closed her eyes, her face flushed. He could not recall his kido ever having this effect on anyone. Byakuya smirked.
He felt the fusing of her bone, the crack mending and he suppressed his reiatsu once more. With a detached air he felt along her arm again to be sure his kido had done its job; he was no Kotetsu or even Yamada for that matter, but his strength was slightly above average when it came to the healing functionality of the demon arts. The bruise had completely faded, all he could see was her honey-tan skin. He gave a nod and let his hands fall to his thighs.
Xochitl opened her eyes, and instantly blushed as she realized he must be able to hear her heartbeat. Slight smugness twitched at the corners of his mouth, though he kept his eyes on the floor.
She was swept up in a sense of guilt for her shortness with him. Her mistress had mentioned his rank once; he was a captain. And yet he had defended her in public, despite the fact that tongues would wag in speculation. It was uncommon for soul reapers to be in the Rukongai, it was not a place so regularly patrolled. It was rather unknown for a soul reaper to try and keep the peace between any feuding factions, much less step in when a gang had become overzealous. But this man, a captain, had protected her, a girl whose face most did not know. She was not nobility, not even a true citizen of the Rukongai. She was a courtesan.
With humility she bowed her head, "I am sorry, my lord. I inconvenienced you by getting myself into such a troublesome situation. Forgive me. I never… I could not have imagined you'd be there… But I'm grateful. And I apologize. I've been ungracious."
He sighed. It is I who am being ungracious… She is a child. "I am not angry, Xochitl." It was a lie. He could still feel frustration gnawing at him.
"You- have barely looked at me." She said in denial of his statement.
"I am- merely tired." He admitted with a shake of his head and as she looked at him she could see that this was true. Whether it was due to the weight he bore as a captain and a noble or due to the burden of their secret she could not say. She tried not to let the thought of his possible guilt over their meetings stab too deeply.
"Xochitl." He held out his hand to her and she instantly took it, allowing the touch to banish her thoughts. He rose and brought her to her feet as well. When he turned her around by her shoulders and reached for her obi she did not resist. Now fully healed, she helped as he undressed her. Naked, she laid down at his indication. She watched as he took the robe from his shoulders and then tossed aside the white tunic-shirt, leaving his black hakama. He laid down on his side next to her.
When he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close so that he could press his face against her neck, pain made a momentary blossom in her heart. There was nothing in his touch to suggest he would demand any more from her than her warmth against him. But she almost wished he would simply press her down against the pallet and let instinct take over, treat her as a man should treat a courtesan.
For several moments the only sound was his breath against her skin and even that seemed to mingle with the silence so completely it was nonexistent.
"My lord, I fear you have made an enemy of Koji and his gang." She said.
"A man such as me is never without his enemies, Xochitl." He murmured against her skin with no hint of remorse at the fact.
"That is not-," She began.
"Be silent, Xochitl." He commanded quietly, squeezing her more tightly for a moment before he relaxed, his eyes closed.
The girl closed her eyes and let the sound of his slow breathing and his protective hold blanket her mind in nothingness.
Sometimes it was best to feel nothing. If she delved too deep she would find resolve blooming out of desperation. She knew as always he was taking more responsibility than was necessary for the place they'd found themselves. He was taking on the burden of the danger she'd been in. To a man who insisted upon control at all times, he had felt blindsided by the situation in the Rukongai. He should have recognized it the moment she stepped into the streets away from her mistress' house. He should have felt her small spiritual pressure waver the instant she was in pain.
Lying next to her he should have known he was vulnerable, that she would pick up on his emotions as he drifted to sleep against her naked flesh.
But when oblivion eased him of all his hunger, his worry, his frustration with himself, there was no way for him to know that she did not fall into sleep next to him.
Xochitl stared into the rafters, searching for a glimpse of her future.
Lesson 10: Guilt is a Marriage of Conflict and Regret
AN: While this chapter may seem a bit action-less and simply angsty it's relevant…. Next chapter I imagine we'll run across Renji again and wander into some SC territory! Hopefully it won't be long before I have it out!
Wow, was I off on my estimation of the amount of chapters! I'm not going to guess anymore- but it will end.
Thanks!
