Chapter 20: Proposals
"I don't know about this," Hisana murmured, bracing against Sheh's tugging.
"Shh," Sheh replied, stuffing her into the kimono.
"This is extravagant." Worried, she ran her hands up and down the fabric, praying that it did not wrinkle against his harsh pulls. The silk and pattern were painstakingly exquisite. The kimono was deep blue with a red lining. Embroidered and painted, golden leaves decorated the hems, seemingly swirling up and scattering when they reached too high.
"This took several years to make," he said between sharp tugs.
Wide-eyed, she jerked away. "What?" Her breath hitched in her chest, clipping the question.
"He said that you would refuse," he huffed before quickly grabbing her back and continuing despite her protests. "But he insists. It means so much to him."
With bent brow and narrowed eyes, Hisana gave him a piercing over-the-shoulder glare. "Why?"
"It is a family heirloom, and he wants you to wear it tonight."
Her cheeks began to sting as a deep crimson spread across her face. Something about how he spoke the words set her nerves on fire. "Why?" Byakuya was a deliberate man, and, for a moment, she wondered if he was making a statement with the kimono.
She could almost feel Sheh shrug from behind her. "He was adamant about it when he arrived at the manor this morning."
Hisana snorted a sigh and squeezed her eyes shut. "I asked his opinion about my attire for the evening. I hope he did not leave with the impression that I desired..."
Sheh sighed heavily. "He did not. He would have purchased a new garment to give to you if he had perceived your question as a request."
She opened her eyes and turned her head so she could glimpse him. Fear besmirched her face and twinkled in her eyes. The assessment comforted her only slightly. She was now sure that this gesture meant something else.
"He is protecting you with this kimono," he murmured, fussing with the obi.
With a long graceful movement, she raised an arm and examined the deep blue sleeves. 'Blue…Blue…Blue,' she hummed to herself, trying to remember its meaning. 'Blue is a defensive color—meant to ward off pests.' She wondered if he was being clever—she was about to enter a figurative viper pit after all. If she was to remain with Byakuya, there would be many struggles ahead—his family, the court ladies, Lady Kokiden, angry nobles in general.
Sheh sat her down, and he began combing her hair. When she opened her lips to air a protest, he shook his head in anticipation. "Don't even," he said, playfully narrowing his eyes.
Hisana glanced up at him confused. He served a male master. He should be the last person to "style" her. "How do you?"
"I once served a Lady of the household. I know all about kimono, hair, makeup, and the many horrible tortuous things women do to themselves to look presentable."
A sly smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "I do none of those things." It was true. She owned a few feminine things, but, besides her perfume, which was her staple, she did not have a need for burdensome kimono, hair bobbles, or makeup. Such things would only hinder her as a Shinigami and during her treks to Rukongai.
He returned her smile. "You don't have to," he said, brushing a stubborn tress of hair from her eyes. "You are very pretty, and, more importantly, you possess milord's heart."
She glanced down, demure. Her cheeks flushed. When, she looked up at him again, a soft smile played on her lips.
"Don't be careless with it." Sheh's expression tightened.
Her eyes fluttered open and shut as if something caught in her eye. She detected a sharp disapproving subtext in his words. "Do you not think my heart belongs to him?" Part of her was indignant at the unspoken implication—an implication that only his eyes betrayed—that her heart was not similarly disposed.
Sheh raised his head. He gave her a measured look. "I believe your heart is fragmented, and he mourns harming the piece he has claimed."
Hisana's brows lowered, and she closed her eyes. Inhaling a sad breath, she considered his evaluation of her. Sheh was right. She hated to admit it. Her heart was a jumbled mess, and she divvied out the pieces of it that she had not already allocated to her sister.
Glancing down at her, Sheh scrutinized her as if he was an artist considering a piece of work. Giving an approving nod of his head, he said, "Lord Kuchiki will be pleased." Hisana dropped her head diffidently, and her gaze trailed to the side. "Come," he said, aiding her to her feet.
"Where are we going?" she asked, leading the way out of her humble quarters.
He scooped the prized Kuchiki scarf against his chest before exiting. "To the manor," he answered.
She gave him a sidelong gaze. She was shocked. "Isn't that bold?"
Sheh shook his head. "It is honest."
When they reached the manor, Sheh led her to Byakuya's private wing. The estate's imposing size and winding halls always amazed Hisana. The floor plan seemingly shifted with each visit. Careful to not make a sound as she crossed the hard wood, she pressed her lips together and pushed through the bitter ache that emanated from her foot. As a diversion, she glanced into the open rooms as they passed. The spaces were all massive and were simply adorned.
Upon arriving at the door, Sheh stopped and announced their presence. "Lord Kuchiki," Sheh said softly. He then gave her a firm nod of his head.
As if commanded, Hisana kneeled in front of the door. In the proscribed manner, she opened the door and bowed before the threshold. A few second passed, and she glanced up to find Byakuya seated at his desk, writing. From the forms, she knew that he was laboring over paperwork for the Sixth.
He lifted his head, and a small smile ghosted over his lips. His gaze trained to her longingly before he stood. "Please," he commanded.
She stood, and, with a stiff gait, she crossed the room, stopping an arm's length away. "Lord Kuchiki," she said and bowed.
Byakuya's expression fell slightly at her formality. His gaze then drifted to Sheh, who lingered by the door. With a measured look, he dismissed his body servant.
"You're injured," he stated, dipping his head down. He placed a reassuring hand against her shoulder. Seemingly, his assuaging touch beckoned her to straighten. Hisana's body reflexively responded, but she misjudged. So eager to please, when her head popped up, she collided against his chin. The two stood—red cheeked and somewhat embarrassed by their clumsiness.
"Lord Kuchiki," she began apologetically, "I am so sorry." Her hand flew up to the affected area on her forehead. It throbbed.
Byakuya stroked his chin, shaking his head. "No, I was careless."
She met his gaze. Her brows furrowed, and her lips turned down. With a look, she conveyed her immense contrition. "Are you?" she began, cupping his cheek in her hand. She felt incredibly inelegant and mortified. Her senses dulled when in his presence. Movements and responses that she had honed since childhood seemed complex and inscrutable. She wondered if she had a similar effect on him.
"Come," he said, leading her to his desk. He swept some papers off his desk, but his movements were imperfect. Whole stacks of loose sheets tumbled to the floor, and he watched, wide-eyed and shocked, as the pages scattered across the tatami.
Hisana smiled as she leaned over to help him collect the paperwork. 'I suppose it is not only me,' she mused, stacking the sheets neatly to the side of the desk.
"Thank you," he murmured, embarrassed. His gaze fell to the ground, and he lowered his head.
Hisana's smile widened. 'Counting the straws of the tatami,' she thought knowingly to herself. She knew that look well, having counted many a straw and floorboard in her life while in his presence. She also knew the feelings like old friends: It was hard to concentrate. Simple tasks seemed impossible. The mind was overly preoccupied with the heart's yearnings. "How is the Sixth these days?" she said conversationally. Her words washed over him, urging him to break from his tense stare.
Byakuya looked up. "Well." His answer sounded leaden.
She leaned forward. "How is Vice Captain Shirogane?"
Reflexively, he grimaced.
"Not good?" she teased.
"He is well," Byakuya stated tersely. Despite his impassive façade, she could tell that he was fuming. Hisana had a theory that Byakuya resented Shirogane at times.
"But you are not," she noted perceptively.
"He is," Byakuya paused, deliberating on word choice, "preoccupied."
She tilted her head to the side as she considered what, exactly, he meant by "preoccupied." When he did not elaborate, she inquired, "With what?" Judging by his tenor, Shirogane's preoccupation was not with his duties at the Sixth.
He raised his head, and his blue eyes glinted under the artificial lighting. She was unsure of whether determination or aggravation shone in his look. "He wishes to start a business."
Absently, her brows lifted, and her gaze became more attentive. "Oh?" It was the first that she had heard of Shirogane's plans.
"Yes," Byakuya said coolly, "and he leaves all of his work to me now."
Hisana quickly pressed her lips together certain that if she did not that she would have laughed. Rarely did Byakuya let his mask slip, but, then, he appeared truly indignant—a refined kind of indignation that she was sure belied a fiery outrage. She imagined that he had every right to take umbrage with Shirogane's behavior. The Sixth was Captainless for the moment, and, without a strong Vice Captain, the work could become unbearable for the subordinates. Unbearable to almost catastrophic. "Well, what type of business is it?" she asked, hoping to divert his quiet fury.
"An unnecessary one."
She could not repress the grin that spread across her face. All she could do was shield it with the sleeve of the kimono. "Really? And, what kind of business does Lord Kuchiki find unnecessary?"
"Sunglasses. He manufactures and sells sunglasses."
She looked at him sympathetically. "That does not sound so bad."
"Unappealing sunglasses," he added. "Aesthetic abominations."
Again, she pressed her lips together, stared at him wide-eyed, and bit the inside of her mouth to repress the chuckle that bubbled up from her chest. Rarely did he express his dislike so completely. "Oh, surely they cannot be that bad," she attempted to moderate his harsh words.
"I have some," his voice dared her to press him further. He had evidence. "If you would like to see."
Hisana contemplated whether she should accept his challenge. Concluding that he was likely exaggerating, she nodded her head. "May I?"
"Of course," he said. He fumbled in his desk for a moment before withdrawing a small brown package. It had been opened. He pushed it across the desk to her.
Hisana's nimble fingers unfolded the brown cardboard back, and she plucked one of the glasses from the box. Examining the spectacles, she bit her lip. Hard. "Oh," she said, hesitant to select an adjective. The frames were bright white, made of plastic with horizontal plastic strips running from the frame across the lenses like shutters. "This is," she began again, but she could not articulate her feelings toward the eyewear. It was a mixture of shock and confusion. The design seemed impractical for Shinigami, who typically needed their vision to be free from obstruction.
"Unfortunate," he stated.
"Avant-garde," she said brightly, shooting him a pacifying look. He was not having it. He merely shook his head, and his affect flattened. "You have a box of them," she observed, somewhat bemused as to why Shirogane had given him a box. While Byakuya tried to keep his thoughts to himself, she was certain that he did not hide his dissatisfaction with the sunglasses.
"I have many boxes of them," he said pointedly.
She chuckled. "Why?"
"I purchased them," he murmured sheepishly.
Astounded, she cocked her head to the side, and stared at him in wonderment. "Why?" Sometimes he caught her off-guard with his reasoning.
"I do not wish to see others wearing them; they are so unappealing."
She giggled. "I think you may be sending the wrong message," she said playfully.
He sighed. "Perhaps."
"How many have you purchased?"
"I have a storage room."
She covered her mouth, hoping to smother the inelegant chuckle with the long sleeves of the furisode. A small smile thinned his lips as he watched her chortle. "Lord Kuchiki," she rebuked, half-heartedly, "do not tease me."
"I am being perfectly earnest," he said, smiling.
She folded her hands in her lap and watched him. It had been so long since she had seen him smile, and she did not want to miss a moment of it. "You are cruel," she said, shaking her head and feigning umbrage. She had a feeling that his "purchases" were a disguised attempt to fund Shirogane's enterprises because, behind his protests and cold glances, he was a very charitable man. He, however, would never admit that. "Despite the added paperwork, how has it been at the Sixth? Regale me with stories," she said sweetly. Instinctively, Hisana reached for a warm cup of tea. Somewhere between their banter, Sheh had served drink and food.
He was happy to oblige. "I went to instruct a lesson at the Spiritual Arts Academy today," he said somewhat grimly.
"How was that?" Hisana's brows furrowed, and she shot him a empathetic look.
"Treacherous."
She grinned. "Kidou?"
"Kidou."
She giggled. "Oh, no. What year were the students?"
"First."
She shook her head. "They gave you First Years?" She could not believe it. "What happened?" Anything could happen with First Years. They were all so bad at kidou then. Even the ones that were promising were awful. Even the ones that were promising at kidou ranged from bad to dangerous.
"I have offered to pay for the reconstruction."
Her eyes widened, and she nearly choked on her tea. "Oh, no!" she gasped. "What happened?"
"It was an intermediate class."
She grimaced as if she was apologizing on behalf of the Academy.
"It went poorly. I must admit that I am unfamiliar with the Spiritual Arts Academy's curriculum. I assumed too much."
"Fire?" she asked. Her brow furrowed, and a pained expression stretched across her face. It was an intuition.
He nodded. "Fire was not the most prudent choice on my part. I should have aborted my plans when one of the students nearly caught another student on fire."
Hisana tucked her chin down, and turned her cheek slightly as if bracing for the worst of it. "That happens from time to time," she murmured reassuringly.
"Another student's attack went wild and caught the girders on fire. We evacuated shortly after."
She covered her lips with her hand, and she winced. "I am sorry about that. It happens to the best instructors, though."
He looked at her in disbelief.
"During my Third Year kidou class, a student flooded the room. It took weeks for the space to be usable," she shot him a conciliatory smile, "but you remember what it was like to be a student at the Academy."
Byakuya stared blankly at her. "No, I never attended the Academy."
Hisana's lips parted. "Oh?"
"I received private tutoring in the spiritual arts since I was a youth."
She lifted her head. She had always assumed that he had gone to the Academy. "Oh," she said. Her voice lowered.
"Oh?" he echoed, detecting her deflated inflection.
"You received private tutoring alone?"
"I had instructors," he corrected.
"No other students to learn with?"
He shook his head. "Is that problematic?"
A somber smile ghosted across her lips. "No," she said softly. The thought plucked a sad chord in her heart. 'It must have been isolating.'
He inhaled a measured breath. She could tell that her sudden soberness had put him on edge. "How is the Spiritual Arts Academy?" he asked.
"A zoo," she said sardonically, "six years of awkward interactions with your peers. Training happens in the meanwhile," she joked, waving her hand in front of her face as if to shoo the memories away.
His brows furrowed, and he watched her intently, seemingly commanding her to continue.
"You really have no idea?" she asked with a mixture of disbelief and concern clouding her features. He gave a slow, almost imperceptible, shake of his head. "It is grueling," she began, "You eat, sleep, and breathe the spiritual arts. In between that training, you interact with and come to respect your comrades, for the most part. It pushes you, for sure, in many ways. There are plenty of bad parts too," she said softly. After a few moments, she continued, perceiving the question written on his face. "There is a hierarchy. You have the nobles—they receive extra tutoring, and they come into the Academy well prepared. You then have students from the more respectable districts; they have some sense of what to expect. And, then, you have students from the roughest districts. They have no inkling of what is required of them, socially, academically, or in any other way. Then, everyone seemingly knows everything about you. Nothing is sacred or secret. Poor test performances and drunken improprieties all carry the same weight and follow you for years."
"Drunken improprieties?"
Hisana smiled. 'Of course that is what he would choose to question.' She nodded. "It is a social experiment of sorts."
"Did you?" he asked, a look of mortification etched into his features.
Hisana's eyes widened, and her cheeks reddened. She immediately filled her mouth with hot tea, hoping that her look of guilt had not been too apparent. He apparently remembered her confession months before about her number of lovers. Two. He was one of the two, and she had never confirmed the identity of the other.
"But, I thought Shiba was-"
If possible, her eyes grew larger, and she nearly choked on her tea. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand to keep the liquid at bay, she swallowed hard and began coughing. "You thought me and Vice Captain-?" she spluttered between gasps for air. She could not speak the name, fearing it would become dirty by implication. Her entire body wanted to reject the assumption—to purge the very thought that burned through her mind. "I have done many stupid things with Kaien Shiba, but we have never."
"Vice Captain Ichimaru stated that during the Cherry Blossom-"
Hisana rolled her eyes. "Of course he did," she drew in a sharp breath and exhaled with equal force. "Vice Captain Shiba and I spent the night together at the Cherry Blossom festival. That is true. When dawn broke, we staggered to my quarters, and I invited him in for tea. He passed out on my futon, and I took tea outside by a stream. We have shared a few kisses, nothing more. His heart belongs to another, but," she sighed.
Byakuya watched her attentively. "But," he echoed, encouraging her to continue.
"I think he seeks to right a past wrong with me out of some strangely held obligation." She shook her head, wishing to speak no further of the matter. She had long assumed that Isshin had divulged her secret to Kaien. Kaien had indicated as much when he sat with her overlooking the stream the day after the festival. There was no doubt in her mind that Kaien felt some sense of duty to see to her security and happiness. 'An impossible task,' she thought lugubriously to herself for she was incredibly self-destructive and incredibly stubborn.
"How did you injure yourself?" Byakuya digressed, reading her chilliness on the matter. His gaze trailed to her affected leg.
Hisana smiled wryly. "You don't miss a thing do you?" she asked, eyes narrowed perceptively. His concern touched her. "I visited the Fifth today. The Division is under major renovation, and I stepped on a broken board. It got the best of me."
"Who called you to the Fifth?"
"Ichimaru, who else?" she muttered. She could not bring herself to speak of the Vice Captain formally, intentionally leaving off his rank to signal her disrespect. "Captain Aizen was interested in testing a rock on me."
Byakuya's brows furrowed. He appeared a cross between nonplussed and mortified. "What?"
She laughed. "That did come off sounding rather odd, didn't it?" She shook her head. "Captain Aizen has a stone that can detect spiritual pressure, but it does not work on me. In fact, I appear to negate its power." She was somewhat surprised that her explanation did not mollify him. In fact, he looked more disturbed.
"What does that mean?" He stared at her as if he was trying to make sense of what she had just said.
Hisana scrutinized his visage, wondering if she had slipped into some strange Rukongai dialect that he could not comprehend. Apparently, Byakuya Kuchiki knew nothing of magical reiatsu-detecting stones, and he seemed very much to want her to know nothing about the matter as well. Briefly, she considered the possibility that he thought her septic or reeling from some strange brain infection that sparked the nonsense she was speaking. Hisana merely shrugged. "I don't know. Captain Aizen has taken to geology it seems."
Byakuya pondered the matter for a few seconds longer before shaking his contemplation aside. "Would you mind accompanying me on a stroll?" he asked quietly.
Hisana smiled. She could always tell when he was unsure because his voice became low and quiet. His face never betrayed his uncertainty, however, but she knew he was waiting with great unease. "Of course," she said, sweetly.
He helped her to her feet, and he slid back the door, letting her pass first. A sign of humility, Hisana noted. Crossing into the courtyard of the estate, she felt her knee lock, and she rebounded with a shaky step. "Are you well enough?" he asked, staring down at her.
She lifted her wounded foot, and tethered her pain with a smile. "Yes, Lord Kuchiki."
His brow furrowed. "Please," he said, offering her his arm.
She blushed and turned her cheek. "Lord Kuchiki," she said. Her gaze flicked up at him shyly. "Is it prudent?" He nodded. Her worried look remitted as she threaded her arm through his. "Thank you," she said softly.
"There is no need."
She shook her head, silencing him. "No. You are too kind," she said, glancing down at the beautiful kimono. She felt self-conscious wearing the fine fabric.
He shook his head. "It pleases me," he said as if his kindness was purely self-motivated. She smiled at him, knowing better. A tranquil silence blanketed the pair. There was no speaking of ugly goggles, burning buildings, or magical stones. Just serenity. The dusk was settling over the beautiful estate. Hisana always marveled at the grounds. Everything looked as if it had been set aflame. The flowers, trees, and shrubbery all consented to a vibrant demise. Leaves fell like colorful snow, covering the ground with spectacular hues. She loved every piece of the estate, finding that it represented Byakuya better than words ever could. It was wild, fiery, sprawling, perfectly groomed, peaceful, and lovely.
She returned her gaze to him. He was deep in thought, staring ahead at nothing in particular. She indulged in holding her gaze a few paces longer than she would have otherwise. It was a perfect moment, she mused. She had very few perfect moments, but basking in the glow of everything that her companion loved made her intensely happy.
"I have a request," he said, glancing down at her.
She looked up at him. Shocked. He seemed so out of sorts. He refused to meet her gaze instead his eyes nervously wandered. His jaws flexed, and his brow bent slightly. His unease set her imagination loose. Horrible terrifying possibilities assailed her. He was always so steady. Even when he was uncertain, he did not show it. "Yes," she said weakly, dropping her gaze to her feet. She swallowed. Her throat parched, and her heart drummed a staccato beat in her chest.
"If I made arrangements for you to live in a house away from the barracks, would you consent to it?"
She stared up at him, unable to comprehend what his words meant. "What do you mean by 'arrangements'?" she asked, skeptical.
"If I purchased a house."
"Lord Kuchiki," she said, shaking her head. "I could not accept such an offer."
"You would be safer there," he murmured. "I would see to your every need and whim."
"No, Lord Kuchiki, I would be burdened with a debt that I could never repay."
"There is no debt to repay," he said earnestly.
Hisana shook her head with more conviction. "I can't accept. How could I?" She looked up at him. Her brows knitted together, and her lips compact. She wanted nothing more than to see to his happiness, but her wish to retain a semblance of equal footing with him restrained her desire to please. She could accept certain gifts with some ado, but this was beyond what she was willing to receive. It was simply too much.
"You could accept."
She stopped and turned to face him. Her head inclined, and she gave him a long deep look. Reaching up, she placed her hand against his cheek. Her touch was cool against his warm skin. "If I could give you the realms and make you King, I would, but you would not accept my generosity."
His brows fell, and he inhaled a shaky breath, "Stubborn pride," he muttered.
She lifted her head, and her eyes locked on his. The light in her eyes dimmed, and sorrow replaced her youthful happiness. Her lips parted in anticipation for some assuaging verse, but his look stayed her. Byakuya was not someone who heard or accepted "no" for an answer often. He was unaccustomed to rejection, and she could tell by the look on his face that he was trying to construct a compelling argument to sway her mind. She managed a small smile. "I am grateful to be at your side, Lord Kuchiki. I require nothing more." She took a step forward, hoping to end the conversation. He, however, caught her wrist. His touch stopped her. She descried him somberly.
He lowered his head, closed his eyes, and inhaled a deep breath. "Will you-"
An explosion filled her ears, obscuring his words. Turning her head away from the bright light that radiated many kilometers away, she shielded her face with her arm. Protectively, Byakuya took a step in front of her. His hand tightly gripped the hilt of Senbonzakura, and he lowered his head, bracing against the impact.
"What is that?" Hisana asked the moment the light dimmed. It took a few moments for her vision, once splotchy with floaters, to clear.
He shook his head. Taking firm hold of her wrist, he led her toward a small stone temple. "Stay here," he commanded, giving her a stern look. She nodded, submitting to his better judgment. "I will return," he said.
"Be careful," she said softly.
He was gone in a flash, and she alone with her thoughts. Her miserable thoughts. Briefly, she wondered if her "stubborn pride," as he had called it, was well advised. He was a very calculating but taciturn man. Maybe there was some unknown danger of which she was unaware?
Hisana shook her head. 'But how could I be safer at a private residence than at the division?' she wondered. Trained Shinigami guarded the division and resided within its halls. Before she could drum up potential solutions in her head, she felt a tectonic shift. Her nerves tingled, and a white noise sounded in her head. Reflexively, she utilized a well-placed flashstep out of the small stone edifice.
The attack was on high. She bit out a high-level fire incantation in the direction of the perpetrator. It was an adolescent girl. "Who are you?" Hisana asked before dodging another round of kidou.
Hisana's movements were severely restrained by the heavy kimono, and she stumbled forward, blocking another attack with a barrier.
"Such fine silk. So sad that your wealth cannot help you now," the girl hissed.
"It doesn't belong to me," Hisana was quick to correct the woman's assumption.
"What do you mean? You are a Kuchiki or consort." The girl scowled at her.
"I'm not a noble." Hisana lifted her head as she examined the young adolescent. Likely, this was a rebel incursion.
"Where are you from?" the girl spat, eying Hisana with great skepticism.
"Inuzuri."
"You're one of us then?"
Hisana's lips thinned into an almost imperceptible smile. "Not quite." She quickly caught the girl in a binding spell. As she suspected, the rebel's spiritual power was immature. "Now, tell me, are you responsible for the explosion?"
Struggling against the binds, she turned her cheek and glared into the darkness. "My group was."
Hisana sighed. "You're coming with me." Wordlessly, she dragged the rebel toward the Second.
The Second repaid Hisana's kindness with a knockout drug and threw her into a detention cell. Bright sterile light sank into the dark spaces of her mind until her eyelids drew back. Her head throbbed at a steady pulse; her eyes stung, dry; and her body felt like a heavy pile of lead. Lifting her head off the metal slab that passed for a "bed," took deep mental effort and dedication on her part. "A paralytic," Hisana rasped out under her breath. She could hardly believe that her former division had used a paralytic on her.
Sitting up on the cold metal, she wavered slightly as her muscles—fiber by painful fiber—slowly began to awaken from a deep slumber. She rubbed her legs, hoping that the stimulation would rouse her before she slid off the metal bed. Her bare feet pressed against the cold tiles of the cell, and she attempted to stand. The attempt lasted a total of a few seconds before she crashed to her knees.
Hisana threw her head up and winced at the pain. It was numb at first, but it intensified with each passing minute. Not to be deterred, she bit her lip and slid forward on her knees. The thin material of her white under-kimono covered her legs and allowed her to move forward with greater ease. Instinctively, her fingers wrapped around the steel bars of her cell, and she stared out between the gaps.
"Excuse me," she rasped to a guard. He turned to her, and his eyes lit with recognition. "What are my charges, exactly?"
"Treason and sedition. Like the others," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the cellblock.
"I did not commit treason or sedition," she murmured.
"Take it up with the Central 46," he spat.
She shook her head. "What happened?"
His lips sloped into a frown. "You're not supposed to be talking to me."
"But I am," she stated matter-of-factly. "So what happened?"
"Shh," he hissed.
"What happened?" she persisted.
"There was an invasion of dissidents," he stated in a clipped exasperated tone. "Now, go pass out somewhere."
"How many?" she asked.
"Enough to cause problems. Now, shut up!"
Hisana watched him. He was agitated, likely worried that speaking to her would condemn him to a similar fate. "Why am I here?"
"They rounded up all the Shinigami from Rukongai as suspects. You're from Rukongai. Now, you're here. So, sit in a corner somewhere and keep quiet."
Her brows lifted at the revelation. "Oh," she said softly to herself, "that seems ill advised." If true then all of the division prisons were filled with innocent Shinigami.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up," he chanted to himself, keeping his back to her and his face out of the line of the camera mounted on the wall above them.
"Where are my clothes?" she asked. Her mind seemingly flitted from one worry to another. She knew the Second was not the best division for keeping belongings of prisoners safe if at all. It was unspoken, but prisoners rarely left the Second alive so their property was divvied up among interested Shinigami.
The guard shot her a minatory glare.
"I ask because they are not my things."
"What part of 'shut up' do you not understand?"
"They belong to Lord Kuchiki."
The guard's glare quickly melted to a look of horror. "What?!"
"I want to make sure the kimono returns to his estate in proper order. It is a family heirloom."
"You've made your point," he muttered.
"Good," she said, grinning wolfishly at the back of the man's head. "So how are things at the Second?" For some reason, irritating the guard seemed more interesting than sitting in the dark corner of her cell—a cell in which she did not belong.
"Shut up!" he exclaimed.
"Do not speak to my Fifth Seat with such a tone. It is impolite."
Hisana leaned forward, peering through the spaces between the bars. She knew that gentle but stern voice anywhere. "Captain Ukitake!" she greeted, smiling wide upon seeing him. Ukitake and Kaien stopped in front of her cell. "Vice Captain Shiba," she said with equal enthusiasm.
Kaien acknowledged her with an approving look.
"We have release orders from the Central 46 for my men," Ukitake stated, handing the release to the guard. The man read the notice, verified the seal, and nodded. He unlocked her cell first, and, shakily she stood, bracing some of her weight against the wall and bars of the cell to steady her gait. Her legs felt like jelly. The muscles had not fully awoken, but she forced herself forward out of the cell.
"I'll gather the men and take them to the Fourth for a checkup," Kaien said.
Ukitake gave an approving nod. The good captain then turned his attention to Hisana. "Congratulations," he said brightly. "I know this is a less than optimal manner in which to celebrate your betrothal."
Her eyes widened, and she forced a nervous half-grin. Titling her head to ensure that she heard his words correctly, Hisana's gaze begged him to explain his meaning. He merely gave her a congratulatory smile before realization dawned on him. "You did not accept?"
"I was never asked," she said in a strangled breath.
"Oh, no," Ukitake murmured alarmed, "he did not have the chance… with all of the… my apologies."
Her complexion turned a sickly shade of gray as her mind put it together. "Oh," she said. His words had knocked the air clean out of her lungs. Her brain, however, refused to process the meaning and implications. She stood, just barely, wan and holding her breath.
"My apologies," Ukitake bowed slightly as if to assuage her sudden horror.
"No," she said, breathless, "it is nothing. I heard nothing."
He nodded, turning to Kaien, who looked equally shocked. Ukitake ignored his Vice Captain's surprise. "I will deliver the orders to the Third, Sixth, and Ninth."
Kaien bowed his head. "Yes, Captain. I will collect the men from those divisions and take them to the Fourth as well."
"I don't expect harm to come to them from those divisions. You could probably give them an onceover and let them go. I will personally take the Shinigami from the Twelfth to the Fourth."
"Yes, Captain," Kaien said, glancing over Ukitake's shoulder at the orders.
Ukitake shot Hisana a conciliatory look before taking his leave. She managed a small smile—a smile that did not quite reach her eyes or her heart. Slowly, she inched out of her cell. Most of her weight was propped against the wall. Grimacing, she struggled forward.
"I can carry you," Kaien said, placing a hand against her shoulder to steady her.
Hisana shook her head. "I will leave this place under my own volition," she said resolutely through clenched teeth. She kept her promise. One step out of the Second, and she nearly collapsed.
"I told you to remain at the estate."
She knew that dry voice anywhere. A smile broke her frown, and she turned to face him. Despite her weary-eyed look, her face lit up at the sight of Byakuya. "You know I never listen," she teased. Her eyelids drooped half-open, half-closed as she gazed up at him. Her body wanted desperately to fall due to fatigue.
Sensing her exhaustion, he scooped her up. Hisana did not protest; she rested her head in the space between his neck and shoulder, and she closed her eyes. "I will see to her needs, Vice Captain," Byakuya said frankly to Kaien.
. . . .
Sleep proved to be an effective remedy. Hisana awoke refreshed buried under white sheets. Her body felt light again, lighter than before. She sat up. This was not her room. In fact, as she surveyed the area, she had never seen the room that contained her in her life. It was massive, and one of the doors had been drawn back, revealing a tempting lush garden.
Her lips thinned. Memories of hours prior sluggishly pushed forward in her mind. 'Kuchiki manor.' She shut her eyes briefly and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her covered knees. The memories, however, were not all pleasant. The encounter with her Captain needled her. Feeling her chest tighten as Ukitake's congratulatory words replayed with stunning fidelity in her head, she looked up. A shiver tore through her as she considered his meaning. If he spoke the truth then it would explain Byakuya's curious offer regarding a house. But, what gave Ukitake the idea that Byakuya would propose marriage?
She shook the thought away. There was no use in speculating, she mused. Rocking to her feet, she stood and straightened her white under-robe. She then spied a small writing desk in the corner. 'I should write a thank you note,' she thought to herself. She was halfway across the room when the clack of the shoji door beckoned.
She halted and gave Sheh an over-the-shoulder look. "Yes?" she said politely.
"You are up," he said, kneeled at the threshold.
"I am."
"I trust that you are well?" he said more than asked. Without a moment's hesitation, he entered the room, bearing tea.
"I am," she said, watching him.
"The Lord of the House has requested that you remain at the estate until he returns. He said that he has an urgent matter for you to discuss."
Her heart stopped, and she went ashen. "Oh?" her voice climbed three octaves.
Sheh's brows furrowed as he examined her. "Are you sure you are well?" he asked.
Hisana nodded her head. "Urgent?" The words entered her mind on a delay.
Sheh paused for a moment. "Yes, urgent. Do you have somewhere to be?"
Her eyes narrowed at the implication that she did not have somewhere else to be. "I do serve the Thirteenth," she said sharply.
Sheh smiled knowingly. He had meant to harass her. "I am aware."
She shook her head. "Where did he go?"
"To the Sixth to handle some pressing matters from the evening before."
"The manor's security was breached," she said, taking a sip of tea as she assumed seiza near the desk. She gave a long wave of her arm, gesturing for Sheh to join her.
"Yes," he said. "That is why you left." He obliged her request, taking a seat near her.
Her eyes widened. "You know?"
"The Lord was speaking to the guards this morning." Sheh hesitated as he reconsidered his wording. "'Speaking' may be a little too charitable. He reprimanded them for their inadequacies."
She was shocked. "Oh, no."
"Oh, yes. He was very adamant. He even set them on a new grueling training regime."
She winced. "The intruder really was not much," she said softly. It was the Second that did her in. The young rebel was woefully unskilled.
"Yes, but if they had handled the situation, you would have been protected from the Chamber's executive orders."
"Would I?" Her eyes and tenor spoke her skepticism at his observation. Hisana strongly doubted Kuchiki manor was immune from the Central 46's executive orders when it came to treason and sedition. No noble was immune by rank alone against those specific charges.
"Your name would have been placed on the list, of course. But he would have cleared you before any adverse action was taken."
She smiled grimly. She had no doubt that he would have done that. He did not miss a thing. "He is a very good man."
Sheh's gaze trailed to the tatami. "He is."
"So, what is so urgent that he must speak to me this morning?"
Sheh gave a slow shake of his head. "I do not know."
Hisana's brow lifted. He was a bad liar. "Of course you know."
He shook his head. "Even if I did know, it is his news to give."
"News?" Her mind scrutinized the word for some hidden meaning.
"You will know soon enough," he said, jerking his head up. "I will attend to him." Sheh stood, bowed, and departed in a summary fashion.
Hisana smiled, happy that Byakuya was in residence. Her joy, however, melted when she remembered that he had "news" to convey. Nerves crackled under her skin. Muscles flexed. Her heart swelled, and her stomach clenched. Apprehensive, she felt pain sparking at her lip. She had unconsciously bit her bottom lip too hard. Reflexively, she placed the side of her index finger against her mouth, and she stared hard into the tatami. Silent and wide-eyed, she counted straws just as Byakuya had done the day before.
'What if Captain Ukitake was right?' Part of her considered the possibility that the "news" was as Ukitake had indicated. 'How would he have known?' the more cautious part of her sang. She knew that her captain often took tea with Byakuya. She also knew that her captain was on the receiving end of many secrets and confidences. 'What will I do?'
She startled when she heard the rustle of the shoji door. Her hands flew to her chest. "Lord Kuchiki," she said, immediately bowing her head. Her throat tensed as she tried to catch her breath. When she found her courage, she glanced up, half-expecting to find him calmly looking down at her. What she found was quite the contrary. He refused to meet her gaze. His head was tilted at a downward angle, and his eyes were glued to the floor. His chest appeared tight as if he was holding air and had forgotten to exhale.
Her brows furrowed. Perhaps, he came bearing bad news. Had someone just died? The dissidents did not seem to be that fierce. She had apprehended one while minding an expensive kimono. "Lord Kuchiki, is all well?" she asked in an even voice.
He gave her a fleeting glance. Reaching the desk, he paused and looked up. His eye-line was slightly above her. Absently, she shared his gaze and turned her head to see if some monster had suddenly manifested at her back. "Lord Kuchiki?" her voice was quiet and slow. Each syllable felt like its own mini-sentence.
Byakuya lifted his head, and his gaze trailed to the side. His jaws clenched, and he inhaled a deep breath. 'This is weighty news indeed,' Hisana mused to herself. Instinctively, she leaned forward, eager to receive his words.
He shook his head. She knew that shake of the head: He was revising his sentence—a mental edit. He did not meet her gaze for a few painfully long moments, and, when he did, she smiled, hoping that she could coax the words out of his mouth. Another shake of the head, and he paced.
Hisana had never seen Byakuya pace. She had heard of him pacing. 'What did Sheh once say? When he paced that meant he was… distressed? No, distant? Not that either. Distraught. Yes, pacing means that he is distraught.' She observed him for a moment. 'A very contained sort of distraught.' She smiled back the giggle that tickled in her throat. "Lord Kuchiki," she began, very much wanting to assuage his clearly fraying nerves, "is everything alri—"
He stopped cold and stared at her intensely. "Will you consent to becoming my wife?" His words were so quick and jumbled, she had a hard time making them out. Dumbly, she stared at him. Her brain worked a mile a minute to process the tangled consonants.
"Lord Kuchiki, please, sit," she said gently.
His attention was on her and her only. Slowly, his body obliged her request. But he continued to stare at her, looking for any signs of an answer. Meeting his gaze, she smiled sweetly at him.
A few long moments passed.
"Did I ask a question?" he asked, somewhat frantic.
"Yes," she said, giving a slow nod of her head.
"Did you respond?"
Her smile lengthened. "Yes," she spoke her answer.
He stared at her. "What was it?" He appeared deeply out of sorts.
"Yes. I consent."
Byakuya exhaled, and he averted his gaze to the desk. A few seconds passed, and, as she had anticipated, his attention turned to her again. "You consented to marrying me?"
"Yes," she giggled. "Would you like me to put it in writing?" For a moment, he considered the question in earnest. "It was a joke," she teased.
He nodded to himself, stood, and gave her a deep bow before turning on his heel. Confused, she watched him exit the room. 'I did give him a satisfactory answer?' she wondered, staring at the door.
Sheh was quick to enter the room. An excited look painted across his face. "Please, come," he said gesturing toward her. "We have a great many things to discuss."
Hisana's smile faded as she considered the actual marriage ceremony and the amount of planning and preparation that likely went into such a thing. The preparations combined with the fact that she was sure that his family disapproved of her proved problematic. 'A bad combination indeed…'
Happiness came bittersweet.