A/N: Hi everyone! I'm going to be participating in NaNoWriMo (writing an Alternate Universe Orihime/Byakuya story set in Regency England!) so work on Become a Ghost will be suspended for the month of November. However, so you don't have to go through Ori/Bya withdrawal, here, have a few outtakes that I had written before deciding to take the plot in a different direction.
Just to be clear: these are NOT indicative of the actual, final story; there are no spoilers below. These are scenes, or part of scenes, that I removed because they didn't move the plot forward, or unnecessarily complicated the narrative, or because I changed the plot entirely.
ALSO: I can't decide whether or not to publish this new AU Ori/Bya Regency story as I go along, or should I publish it only after I'm completely done? Since the focus of NaNoWriMo is on quantity instead of quality, it might not be so very good... there's every possibility of it sucking like a black hole, since I won't be able to edit it as much as I might like.
So, here's the question: do you want the story immediately but mediocre quality, or would you prefer to wait and have it after a final edit? Vote in a review!
.
Become A Ghost
Snippets
by HardlyFatal
.
Snippet #1: this took place in chapter 5, quite early in the story, not long after Orihime's death, while she and Byakuya were just starting to get to know each other. Sitting at right angles to each other, and feeling a bit lonely for some human contact, Orihime's knee fell against Byakuya's, and she left it there. I took this out because it felt like Byakuya loosened up too much, too soon.
.
Byakuya stared at the characters swimming on the page before him and allowing himself to enjoy the first real contact he'd had with another person, that was not during a battle or for healing purposes, in decades. A contact that had no purpose behind it behind the intrinsic need to seek comfort and closeness. It felt distinctly surreal, as Orihime would have been one of the last people he'd ever have sought out for it. She was a stranger; she was not nobility; instead of being born to Soul Society, she was newly dead; she was over a century younger than he. He could literally not think of one thing they had in common.
Then again, to whom else might he have gone? The idea of touching any member of his extended family would have made them doubt his fitness to lead them; requesting such a thing from his sister would likely terrify her. Engaging in the typical masculine bonhomie of a back-slap or shoulder-grasp with his lieutenant or any of the other captains would result in horror from all sides. Abruptly, Byakuya understood what Orihime had meant by having to alter her behavior according to the expectations of others.
When he surfaced from his musings, he realized that he had not moved away from Orihime's breach of his personal space, and it had been a good ten minutes since that breach. She was sewing away at her project, camellias in shades of orange and gold slowly making their appearance on the silk in her deft hands. Against his knee, her heat blazed like a little sun.
Byakuya tamped down his curiosity, picked up his calligraphy brush, and resumed writing his letter.
Rukia returned from the human world at last, happy to be home after so long. With Byakuya's permission, Orihime arranged for Renji-kun to join them for dinner to celebrate. She hadn't counted on how accustomed she had become to the tranquility of the Kuchiki manor and its master, however, and Renji-kun's boisterous nature added to his exuberant relationship with Rukia made Orihime feel a bit stressed by the time all four sets of chopsticks had been laid across their empty plates. She understood, now, why the rowdy antics of Ichigo and the rest set Byakuya's teeth on edge.
"I think I'll go for a walk!" she said as soon as was polite, and made to dash out the fusuma to the garden beyond.
"God, yes!" said Byakuya-sama, who leapt to his own feet and followed her out at speed, leaving Rukia and Renji speechless at the table.
Orihime couldn't help giggling as she fled with Byakuya-sama through the fading light of dusk. Behind them, she could hear Rukia calling, "Nii-sama! Orihime-chan!"
Byakuya circled Orihime's wrist with his fingers, and a single shunpou was all that was needed to shift them to the pond on the other side of the house. "Suppress your reiatsu or they'll find us sooner."
Orihime gave a mental squeeze of her spiritual force, and felt it thicken around the shell of her skin instead of flowing out into the ethers. He nodded in satisfaction, and they made their way to the far side of the pond, where the shadows were thickest. The koi- those that remained after Yachiru's frequent incursions- saw them there and clustered around in hopes of a snack.
.
Snippet #2: I originally had Orihime start working at the Fourth Division earlier in the story, and not as a result of Byakuya asking Unohana to hire her. I think it's pretty clear to see what my 2nd place OTP is for Orihime- if it can't be Byakuya, it's gonna be Shuuhei. Yummy.
.
Orihime was up at dawn the next morning, bathing and breakfasting before even Byakuya had risen. A sleepy-eyed servant brought her her new shihakusho, neatly folded and smelling of sandlewood.
She was glad to have the multi-layer shinigami uniform as she set off, the chill of night still lingering as the sun struggled to lift itself over the horizon, and rubbed her arms through the material in hopes of warming up. Orihime wondered if what she'd learned in medical school would be enough to let her keep up with the shinigami healers; she wondered if her unique healing ability would be better or worse than the kidou-style healing wrought by them. She decided, at last, to trust in Unohana's belief in her skills. There would be plenty of time for her to learn kidou and anything else deemed necessary.
She passed the Ninth Divison on her way, and saw Hisagi Shuuhei yawn as he flung open his shutters, up on the second floor of their headquarters.
"You're up early, Inoue-san," he called to her.
"On my way to my first day at the Fourth!" she replied with an excited wave.
"Hey, congratulations!" He grinned. "Next time I'm injured, I know just who to go to!"
"That's right, bring me all your injuries, I'll fix you right up!" She gave a fist pump for emphasis, making him laugh.
Like in all hospitals, the Fourth Division's Relief Station was open and functioning fully even at that early hour.
"Ah, Inoue-san!" Hanatarou was wiping his hands on a cloth as he left a room, coming toward her quickly. "Unohana-taichou told us you were coming today!" He gave her a bow of welcome, which she returned.
"Please take good care of me!" Orihime said, looking around at the bustling hallway. "Am I too early?"
"No, no, Unohana-taichou will be in very soon! If you go to her office, I'll bring you some tea."
He escorted her to the captain's office and made sure she was seated comfortably before whisking out for the tea. Orihime leaned over to look out the window. Outside, Seireitei was beginning to wake up.
"Here already, Inoue-san!" murmured Unohana as she entered the office. "If you're always so punctual, I think we shall work well together."
"Thank you for this opportunity," said Orihime, bowing to her new supervisor.
"We are all so please to have you join us," replied Unohana easily. Hanatarou entered with the tea, which he poured for them before leaving with a final smile at Orihime.
"Now," Unohana said, "let us discuss your position with us. Having seen your healing abilities on several occasions, I would like to offer you the position of 6th seat. You have continued to practice your kidou healing, correct?"
"I could use more practice," said Orihime. "But I'm not bad, and I'll get better, I promise! I won't let you down!"
"Bless you, child, I never thought you would." Unohana gave her a shrewd glance over the rim of her teacup. "Once you show sufficient proficiency in it, I'll promote you to 4th seat."
She set the cup down. "Usually, my seated officers share between them the supervisory role during the various work shifts every week. However, since your role with us will be of a different nature, you will be exempt from working shifts, unless we're in a state of emergency and need your healing skills. Also, given the confidential nature of the treatment you will provide, I have arranged for you to have your own office instead of sharing with the other seats.
"I'm sorry to say that some of the seated officers may not understand why you are not being held to the same requirements as they, and feel resentful of what they imagine to be special privileges. Should any of them express a problem with your situation, please do not hesitate to make me aware of it." It was said sweetly, with a gentle smile, but there was steel behind it. Orihime gulped and nodded.
"That being said: I'm sure you will find the Fourth to be a supportive and nurturing division. As a seated officer, private living quarters are available to you. I will generally not require administrative duties of you apart from status reports on your patients. Yamamoto-soutaichou and I have agreed that all captains and lieutenants will be required to have at least one session with you, so you can evaluate if they would benefit from a longer course of therapy with you. They will also be required to report whether any member of their divisions might benefit from therapeutic sessions with you."
She replaced her teacup on the desk and leaned forward. "You're going to be a very busy woman from now on, Inoue-san. But I think you're up to the challenge, yes?"
Orihime hoped so. It was starting to sound like a honkin' big deal, and she was nervous about dealing with all those captains and lieutenants. "Think positive!" she said, sitting up very straight and smiling.
"Exactly," agreed Unohana. "The captains have already been informed that they must make appointments with you immediately. Please inform me if any have not done so by the end of the week." She turned to the door and called for Hanatarou, who appeared so quickly, Orihime wondered if he'd been listening at the door. "Please show Inoue-san to her office, then her quarters."
The office was just down the hall, with an unused and barren feel to it, but among the things Rukia had lugged over from the living world were various little mementos and decorative objects that Orihime could use to dress up the place and make it more homey. There was a desk and chair, and two long sofas facing each other over a coffee table. Orihime liked that, it would make her appointments feel more like conversations than therapy sessions. She'd put up some curtains and a little wall art... maybe embroider a few throw pillows for the sofas...
"This will be perfect!" she exclaimed, and hugged Hanatarou, who promptly turned purple.
"I'm glad, Inoue-san," he gasped.
Her quarters were much the same: a bare-bones arrangement of utilitarian furnishings very like her apartment back in the living world, with a tiny kitchen, miniscule bathroom, and single all-purpose room for sleeping and living. Still, it would do very well for her.
Hanatarou took her around to all the various areas of the relief station, then the entire division compound, and introduced Orihime to everyone. He seemed to know each shinigami by sight, and had excellent recall of their names, something of which Orihime despaired. They had lunch together in the division canteen and then Hanatarou went on his rounds, after giving her a map of Seireitei. Orihime returned to her office to find a message from 12th Division captain Kurotsuchi and his lieutenant, requesting appointments the very next day.
"I wasn't expecting that," she muttered to herself, staring down at the note. She'd thought that Ukitake-taichou of the 13th would be first in line for his mandatory appointment, out of kindness more than anything. Or possibly Rangiku, who Orihime was sure would view the sessions more as chatting opportunity than therapy. Still, an appointment was an appointment, and she happily marked them down in her brand-new schedule book for 8am and 9am respectively on the morrow.
That done, Orihime faced an afternoon with nothing to do. She decided to go around to all the divisions and introduce herself and see if she could drum up more appointments. Tucking the schedule book under her arm and armed with her new map, she set off for her closest neighbor.
Thus began an exhausting afternoon. She decided to go in a circle around Seireitei and work her way closest to the Kuchiki manor, so she could just go home when she was done. Tenth Division was her first stop; it ended faster than Orihime had expected, not for lack of Rangiku trying to get her to loiter for a while, but because Hitsugaya wanted to finish his work for the day and pushed her bodily out the door.
At the Eighth, Nanao scolded her for interrupting them because she'd finally managed to get Kyouraku to sit at his desk and do some work. At the Seventh, Komamura had been very polite but seemed shy; Iba had asked her out on a date (she'd said no). The next closest division was the Fifth.
Orihime had no sooner set foot in the courtyard before the front gate to the division compound than Hirako Shinji-taichou was hanging out the window above.
"Orihime-chan, my first love! How I've missed you!" he exclaimed. "Come right up!" He turned back to someone in the room with him and called for tea.
Orihime took a deep breath and entered the building. Shinji was of a type that Tatsuki liked to refer to as a "piece of work"; if he wasn't joking, he was snarking. When she could figure out what he was talking about, he was kind of funny. But she was pretty sure he made fun of her all of the time. Was that better or worse than outright hostlity? She couldn't decide.
Upstairs, she bowed to him and returned Momo's welcoming hug. When she explained her purpose in visiting, Momo promptly said to put her down for whenever. Shinji, however, twisted a smirk across his face and leaned back to balance his chair on its two rear legs.
"Can't escape the headshrinking even in Soul Society," he drawled. "You won't need a whole hour to psychoanalyze me, Orihime-chan. I can tell you now, in five minutes."
"Then we can spend your appointment just talking," Orihime replied sweetly. "I'll make tea. It'll be nice."
He brought the chair back to all four legs with a thud, elbows rudely on the desk as he leaned over it toward her. "Make it sake, and I'll be there with bells on."
"With bells on what?" she asked without thinking, forgetting she was talking to a pervert.
"On whatever you like!" he crowed in delight. "I thought you'd never ask!"
Momo clucked disapprovingly; it would take him the rest of the day of the day to calm down, now.
Orihime, for her part, was confused until she recalled she was talking to a pervert, and blushed the color of a pomegranate. "No bells!" she said, waving her hands at him. "And no sake! Nothing of that sort of thing! Just talking!"
But he was on a roll. Momo took matters into her own small hands and escorted Orihime to the door, promising sotto voce to arrange an appointment date and time for Shinji in a few days. Orihime jogged from 5th Division's compound feeling like she'd made a fortuitous escape.
Next was the Ninth. She was looking forward to her visiting it, as she liked Hisagi-san. She was shown to the vice-captain's office, but when she knocked on the door, the voice that responded was not Hisagi's.
"Muguruma-sensei!" she said after opening the door. She felt awkward; for some reason, he didn't like her, hadn't from the moment she'd entered the Vizoreds' location when they'd trained Ichigo, all those years ago. He seemed to have no discernible sense of humor, preferring to be grumpy all the time. Orihime compared him to the equally humorless-seeming Byakuya; but for all Byakuya's outward soberness of expression, he did have a sense of humor. He just kept it to himself. Muguruma Kensei, however, simply never seemed anything but out-of-sorts.
"Can I help you?" he asked testily, and Orihime realized she'd been standing before him in distracted silence for a long time.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, and blushed. "Sorry! I was, uh, I was-"
"Wasting my time," he finished for her. "What do you want? Why are you here?"
"I was just surprised to see you at Hisagi-san's desk," said Orihime, her tone placating. "I came to see if you would make an appointment to meet with me; I know you've been informed that Yamamoto-soutaichou is requiring all-"
Kensei tossed his pen onto the desk's surface. "We were also told we had until the end of the week to book these very important and necessary appointments." He said the word with the same relish one might use to say 'high colonic enemas'. "Did that change?"
Er. "No, it didn't change," said Orihime faintly. She felt hot and stomach-achy, like she always did when confronted with an unfriendly person.
"So I still have three days left, but you decided to come here and harass me into it anyway?"
Er. "When you put it that way, it seems-"
A gentle hand came down on her shoulder. "Taichou. Seriously. What the hell."
Orihime looked up to find Hisagi Shuuhei towering over her, and slumped in relief. "I was just-"
"Bothering me." After a last scathing glare at his lieutenant and Orihime, Kensei snatched up his pen and began scribbling furiously.
Orihime took that as her cue to leave. Shuuhei followed her out to the front gate. "Why is he so, so..."
"Short-tempered?" he suggested.
"Awful," she said fervently. She wasn't used to being the object of such antagonism. Apart from when Hollows and Arrancars and Espadas were trying to kidnap and/or murder her, that was.
Shuuhei laughed and raked his fingers through his shock of dark hair. "Hell, that's him in a good mood. He wasn't even shouting. That's when you know you've got trouble."
She let out a pent-up breath. "So, I guess I'll give you two until Friday to let me know when you'll come in?" If that interaction was anything to go by, her session with Kensei was going to have her pouring a stiff drink the moment he left her office.
"Nah, I'll talk to him and let you know tomorrow." His dark eyes were warm as they rested on her, and Orihime shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling nervous, but not exactly in a bad way. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned his lanky frame against the door jamb. "Say, Inoue-san, would you have dinner with me some time?"
"I can't, while you're one of my patients," she said gently, and was a bit shocked to realize that she was actually a little... disappointed. Which had never happened before; usually when a man asked her out, and she put them off, she felt good, like she was being faithful to Ichigo, even though they'd never made any promises of fidelity (or anything else) to each other. But this time... this time, she thought, maybe she might like to go on a date with a non-Ichigo man.
He grinned. "If we have our one appointment, and then none after that, would I still be your patient?"
She had to laugh a little. "Hm. I guess in that case, no, you wouldn't be."
Shuuhei pulled away from the door jamb. "Then make sure you're free the Friday night after our session? I might have a question to ask you after it's over." He tossed her a last grin and sauntered away, leaving her standing there with warm cheeks and a smile that refused to fade.
.
.
Snippet #3: This is just some nonsense that would have gone somewhere after the previous snippet and before the following one. Funny, perhaps, but again with the adding nothing to the plot progression and narrative, so it had to go.
.
When Orihime turned the corner, she noticed not only Shinji but Kensei walking abreast in front of her, and experienced a sinking feeling in her stomach. The pervert and the grump, she thought, and wondered if there were any way they might have missed her reiatsu and she could slip away, unnoticed.
No such luck for her, however. Within seconds Shinji's shoulders quivered and his head swiveled around on his skinny neck to shoot a glance at her.
"My prayers came true," he exclaimed, "because Orihime-chan is right here in front of us!"
"Those were fantasies, not prayers," Kensei retorted, "and she's behind us, idiot."
"Ahaha!" said Orihime with a patently fake laugh, darting her eyes to either side in search of an escape route. "Hello, Hiraki-taichou! Hello, Muguruma-taichou! Have- have a nice day!"
She tried to scramble past them then, but Shinji was not to be thwarted. His hand shot out and within seconds had her hand tucked in his elbow. Orihime tried to free herself to no avail- for such a narrow little fellow, his grip was like iron. She plastered a smile on her face and resigned herself to several lengthy minutes of innuendo and hostility.
"Kensei and I were just skiving off work for a drink! You'll come with us, of course? I found this weird little cocktail bar in 34th District West, you're not allowed in unless you're wearing pajamas-"
Against her will, Orihime was intrigued. "You're going to wear pajamas to a bar?" Even more baffling... "You're going to get Muguruma-taichou to wear pajamas to a bar?"
"Of course not. Don't be stupid," snapped Kensei. Then he levelled a glare on Shinji that would have set a lesser man on fire. "Don't tell lies to gullible idiots."
Orihime shrank back. Maybe she was a bit gullible, but Shinji was just odd enough that perhaps he really had found a bar that required its patrons to wear pajamas, and perhaps he really would go to it. She could totally see him doing that, actually.
"Tsk, Kensei, now you've scared the girl." Shinji moved his arm so that it wrapped around Orihime and snuggled her deep into his side. He bent to her ear and whispered, very loudly, "Don't mind him. Rudeness is his mating call. The nastier he gets, the more you know he likes you. Insults are his version of foreplay."
Orihime darted frightened eyes up at Kensei, who'd of course heard every word and whose face was slowly turning purple.
"And he has been nasty to you lately, hasn't he? If this keeps up, you can expect him to propose marriage by week's end."
Shinji was wrenched away from Orihime by Kensei's mighty fist of rage; his other fist, equally mighty, punched Shinji into the distant horizon. Without a word, he launched himself into the air after his victim.
Orihime closed her gaping mouth with a click and saw that the other occupants of the courtyard had seen and heard it all.
The next day, at the Women's Association meeting, held as always at the Kuchiki estate, Orihime was besieged the moment she set foot through the door.
"So, Orihime-chan, any truth to the rumor that Shinji propositioned you to a threesome with Kensei?" Rangiku asked casually, popping a blueberry into her mouth.
Byakuya hadn't heard any of this, and found himself edging across the room until he was standing right beside the wall the library shared with the Women's Association room. He refused to press his ear to the wall like a common eavesdropper, however.
"No, no, no!" Orihime was protesting; he could well imagine her holding her hands out at the same time. "It's all a big misunderstanding. Hirako-taichou was being silly, and Muguruma-taichou was impatient, and Hirako-taichou said something about mating rituals and foreplay so Muguruma-taichou punched him very hard. That's all."
"Disappointing," Rangiku said with a sigh. "I was hoping that you'd have some sort of crazy wild love affair now that you've gotten over Ichigo."
.
.
Snippet #4: This would have taken place not long after Orihime's shunpou lessons with Byakuya. At one point, I had thought to continue current canon where Renji pines for Rukia without ever speaking openly to her about his feelings, instead of the direction I went in my story where they do actually get together. I had also thought to show a few therapy sessions between her and various characters before deciding the scenes added nothing to the plot.
.
Orihime decided to make steps toward an issue she was already aware of. "Renji-kun, let's talk about Rukia-chan."
He twitched noticeably. "Rukia? Ahaha. What about her?" His eyes darted around as if expecting to see Rukia pop out from behind the bookcase.
"No need to be nervous, Renji-kun," she said soothingly. "You know anything we discuss is confidential, no one will know anything about it but us."
"I'm not nervous!" He passed his sleeve over his damp forehead. "So, what about Rukia?"
Orihime smiled gently. "When are you going to tell her you're in love with her?"
Renji's reiatsu flared, as did his eyes and nostrils. He leapt to his feet, pointing a shaky finger at Orihime. "Who says what now? Ahaha. You got it all wrong, Orihime. Rukia n' me, we're just old friends."
He was a hard nut to crack, was Renji. It would take a bit of self-revelation to make this work. "Renji-kun," she began, softly, "I know what it's like. You don't have to pretend with me."
He stared at her for a long, hard minute. His reiatsu flared wildly; Orihime sent her own to meet it, trying to make it calm and settle. She could practically see the thoughts flying around in his head, behind his eyes. Then he gave a short, bitter bark of laughter, and tilted his head back against the sofa, eyes closing.
"Yeah, I guess you do know how it is." The column of his throat rippled as he forced a swallow past it. He spoke quickly, like the words had been sitting at the sharp edge of his teeth for so long and could no longer be held back. "What it's like to love someone who doesn't love you back. You and me, we're both members of the same lousy club."
"Tell me what it's like for you," she encouraged. His pain was breaking her heart; she put a tinge of healing power into her reiatsu, not sure if it could help wounds of the psyche but willing to give it a try.
"Everyone else can tell," Renji said. His tone was savage; he was not a creature who bore well the pity of others. "Everyone but her. How can she miss it? It's impossible she doesn't know." He drew in a ragged breath. "So you decide they know but don't want to, don't want to ruin the friendship, don't want to make things awkward. And you're terrified of losing what scrap of friendship you have with her. So you do nothing."
"Okay, say she does know. What then?" She leaned forward, folding her arms over her knees. "Renji-kun, how many years has it been? How many decades? Can you live the rest of your existence- hundreds, even thousands of years?- in this limbo? If you don't do something about it, the situation will never change."
"What then? It could destroy our friendship, and we only just got it back ten years ago. If I tell her, and she doesn't want to hear it, things could go back to how they were when she got adopted by Kuchiki-taichou. We didn't talk, even once, for 40 years, Orihime." Renji dragged his hand over his eyes. "Why the hell do you think I worked so hard to make it up the ranks? To become a lieutenant? To achieve bankai?"
He lifted his head from the sofa and opened his eyes, fixing them on her. "For her. To be worthy of her. To be enough for her."
"Renji-kun!" Orihime exclaimed softly, feeling tears flood her eyes in response. "Renji-kun, you are a very fine man. You were always enough for her."
His eyes were wet, too, and he didn't bother to try to hide it, just scrubbed them away with the heels of his big rough hands. "Then how come she can't see it? What else do I have to do to make her notice?"
"This is verging into unprofessional territory, Renji-kun, but I'm going to tell you about myself, a little, because you already know most of it." She took a deep breath. "What I've learned in order to, to survive loving Kurosaki-kun, is that sometimes people are afraid of change, even if the change can be into something better than it was before.
"And if that's not the case, sometimes there are people who are... different. Who aren't able to be in love with another person. They never allow themselves to do it, because they're too scared, or think they're not good enough... Sometimes, they have so many other things, important things, on their minds and in their hearts, and there's nothing left for them to love with.
Orihime summoned a watery smile. "That last one is Kurosaki-kun's problem. He's so busy saving the world, there's nothing left for him to love with. We all have limits to our endurance, Renji-kun. That is his. But Rukia-chan... I haven't ever spoken to her about this, so I'm just guessing, but... think for a while about what she's been through, in her life. You know what it was like, her childhood, since you were there with her. But the last 40 years have been so confusing for her, I think. Adoption for no clear reason into the highest noble family. A new brother who is, um, daunting, to say the least." Her smile grew, at that.
"She must have felt inadequate, maybe even suspicious. Trying so hard to do well, to not embarrass the Kuchiki-family. Struggling to perform her shinigami duties after only half an education. Trying to feel worthy." She emphasized the word, to recall his own use of it earlier. "And the situaton with Shiba Kaien-fukutaichou. You know that devastated her. Then being implanted with the Hougyouku, losing her powers, being captured-" She paused at Renji's embarrassed little cough "-imprisoned, almost executed, then everything in Hueco Mundo..."
Now it was her turn to swallow past the lump in her throat, and the guilt. "My point, Renji-kun, is that she's been through a lot. Your feeling that she's not interested in a love relationship with you may not be accurate. It's possible she's been so busy coping with all these problems that she'd just had no time to even consider such a thing as love in her life. Has she ever even had a boyfriend?"
Renji blinked at her. Then blinked again. He was clearly stunned, and looking a little dizzy, in fact.
"It's easy to forget about other people's problems when our own seem so large, isn't it?" Orihime smiled. "I do it all the time, so please don't feel bad, Renji-kun. But our time is almost over, and I want to give you some homework."
"Homework?" That seemed to snap him out of his daze. "We get homework with these sessions?"
"Only those who need it," she replied. "Your homework is to tell Rukia-chan how sorry you are that you haven't been there to help her through all the difficult experiences she'd had since the Kuchikis adopted her. Promise her you'll never let her be so distant, ever again, no matter what." Her smile turned cheeky. "And maybe, if you're feeling up to it, you might let it slip that you're in love with her."
He snorted, standing and stretching. "To quote Nanao, 'let's not get carried away'."
She stood too, and placed her hand on his forearm. "Do you feel a little better, Renji-kun? A little stronger?"
"You know, I think I do. Thanks, Orihime." He escorted her to the door, opening it and having her pass, then following her into the hallway. "Hey, about your own... problem. Not going to fall back into that again, are you?"
"Never!" She pumped her fist into the air for emphasis. "I've sworn off unrequired love forever, Renji-kun! The moment I feel in danger of falling for someone who will never love me back, I'll run for the hills! Go become a hermit in the mountains of Rukongai!"
"There are no mountains in Rukongai." He grinned and gave her an awkward one-armed hug, which she was happy to return.
That was the moment that Byakuya opened his own office door and peered out at them, taking in their embrace and tear-reddened eyes in a glance. His reaction: left eyebrow lifted a centimeter.
"We just had a wonderful session!" Orihime informed him. "Thank you, Renji-kun!" Bow. "Good afternoon, Byakuya-sama!" Bow. "Ooh, Byakuya-sama, watch this!" And she blurred into a not-half-bad shunpou step that took her out of the Sixth Division.
.
.
Snippet #5: This would have taken place just before Byakuya found Orihime, ill and exhausted, on the roof. I still wonder, sometimes, if this would have been a better treatment of the scene than what I used.
.
"I wonder where Orihime-chan is," Rukia commented to Byakuya as she sat at his right hand for dinner the next evening.
"Hn," replied Byakuya, picking up his chopsticks. He had a good idea she was getting a job offer from Unohana, as a servant had reported a butterfly being delivered to the house for Orihime, upon receipt of which Orihime had, quote, "shrieked with delight, hugged everyone within arms' reach, then bolted from the estate as if it were on fire". Unquote.
"The servants tell me she left after lunch today and hasn't been back since," continued Rukia, busily filling his plate before serving herself. She'd gotten the less amusing version of the tale, then.
"Hn," said Byakuya, surveying his plate with satisfaction. Just enough spicy foods to make the tongue tingle, but not so much that his mouth would feel as if it had been napalmed. Perfection.
"I hope nothing's wrong," Rukia fretted, and tucked a large wad of noodles into her mouth. She did, to her credit, chew and swallow properly before continuing. "She has a talent for, uh, getting into trouble."
"Hn," answered Byakuya, taking a palate-cleansing sip of tea the approximate temperature of magma before plucking a slender shoot of stir-fried bamboo from his plate.
"Don't you have anything to say?" she demanded of Renji, who sat across from her at Byakuya's left side, and who had been steadily and silently shoveling food into his piehole throughout the conversation.
Renji blinked and slowly lowered his bowl of rice and the chopsticks he was using to direct said rice into his mouth. There was little that his lieutenant held sacred, beyond Rukia, but food placed highly on the list of 'Things To Which Renji Pays Full Attention'. It was no mean feat to pull his focus from his meal. Byakuya generally had to hit him with something to accomplish the task; it was a credit to his sister that her knife-blade-sharp tone of voice alone was able to do it.
"Well," Renji said after swallowing, "I figure Orihime-chan is a grown woman, and pretty much everyone in Seireitei knows her. And knows that she's staying here. So if anything happened, wouldn't you have gotten a butterfly by now?"
Silence. It was not often that Renji came out with a well-reasoned, logical explanation for something. It deserved appreciation. Byakuya expressed some by refilling Renji's teacup.
"Hn," grunted Rukia after a beat, clearly annoyed that the dimwitted redhead had out-thought her for once.
.
.
Snippet #6: This takes place after Orihime trades herself for Byakuya in Hueco Mundo and while she makes telepathic contact with him and the others.
.
Byakuya felt a conflicting sense of pride in her ability, confusion, and that underlying, simmering anger that she'd place herself in such danger to save him. A tiny voice deep inside reminded him that if she had not, he would be at that very moment quite dead. And that one of the reasons he loved her was because of her selflessness and generosity of soul. He gave up trying to be mad at her and steered his attention back to the mental conversation.
And then realized they were all staring at him.
Because he had spoken every single one of those thoughts in his head, where at the moment they could all hear him.
"Orihime-san, he's blushing," whispered Momo. "It's... really cute." She sighed happily.
Byakuya shot the little lieutenant an unfriendly glance; she just beamed at him, apparently feeling that because he was no different from any other sap in love, he was somehow less daunting than he'd always been to her. He would have to correct that assumption on her part, when they were back in Soul Society.
The group-wide communication went dead. "Byakuya," came Orihime's voice in his ear, sounding a little shy. "You are no less generous and selfless than I am, just in a different way. It's... it's one of the reasons I love you, too."
.
.
Snippet #7: This would have taken place after the Aizen thing was finished, upon return to Soul Society. But I decided not to keep torturing them. There comes a point where it's just wallowing in misery instead of propelling the plot forward.
.
"Although we have been acquainted for over a decade by now, it was not until your death that we had the opportunity to become known to each other. What I have learned of you has made me come to hold you in high regard." He gazed at her over the few yards separating them, searching for some indication that she returned that regard. This next part was very difficult; he was not a man who emoted easily. But he forced himself to say it; she deserved to hear it. "You must know by now that I love you, most ardently."
Orihime twitched and, if possible, went even more pale. Even her lips were white now. If Byakuya had to find the adjective best suited to describing her expression, that adjective would be 'horrified'. Orihime was horrified to hear his declaration. Something within him curled up in reaction against the rejection he felt.
"I-" Orihime stopped, wetting her lips, clearly at a loss for how to reply. "You honor me, more than you know. I had suspected that this might happen. I tried to put some distance between us, hoping to keep it from getting to this point. And I am... profoundly sorry to have to cause you any pain."
Byakuya's initial instinct was to feel a terrible ache lancing through his belly at how plainly she was recoiling from his offering of love.
No, he told himself savagely, angry at himself. Do not forget. Do not forget how beautiful she found your soul, do not forget how she fought against Renji to heal you, do not forget that she sacrificed herself to Aizen to ensure your safety. Do not forget that she risked the existence of the world to save you.
She had turned away, had bowed her head. Her shoulders, narrow and slumped in sorrow, made her look small and vulnerable, beaten. "But it's not possible for me to return Kuchiki-taichou's feelings."
Kuchiki-taichou, again? The flame of anger flickered and grew within him, until it included Orihime as its target. "You are lying," he ground out, and strode across the room until he stood directly behind her. "I have been within your soul. I know you better than anyone else. You are lying."
She was trembling from the effort of clasping her hands together in an attempt to hold some measure of control. "I'm not lying," she said, her voice reedy.
Her bowed head, tilted forward, left her neck bare and vulnerable, with no protection but a few wisps of hair that had fallen from the messy knot binding it. Byakuya brought up his hand, curled it lightly around that slender white neck, used his thumb to brush aside those soft wisps of hair. He could feel her quivering against his palm.
"No, perhaps not," he said, his voice gentle. "Did you think I have not noticed how you have never said you do not love me in return? Not in that note you left me, and not now. You say things like, I'll be too busy working and It's better that we just remain friends and, just now, It is not possible to return your feelings. But what you do not say is I do not love you or You do not matter to me."
Byakuya bent his head a placed a kiss on the side of Orihime's throat, just over where her pulse was thrumming in such anxiety that he could see the fragile movement beneath her skin. "So tell me now, how you do not love me. Tell me, and I will go, and I will not impose myself upon you again."
And I will go somewhere and die from misery, he added to himself. He was gambling everything on her response.
...but that did not mean he had to play a clean game.
"Tell me, Orihime," he purred in her ear, kissing her neck again, this time with parted lips so the heat of his breath could wash over her skin, so his tongue could dart out and taste her. He edged closer until the entirety of his body was pressed against her. His hands slid around her waist, one hand flat against her midriff, the other sliding up and under the lapel of her kimono to cup her breast. "Tell me how you do not love me."
"I... I don't..."
She was shaking, now, trying so hard to deny herself to him when giving in was clearly what she wanted most to do. He found her nipple, hard as a diamond, and gave it a light pinch. Orihime's immediate, instinctive response was to arch, gasping, fitting her breast more fully into his grasp and pressing her delectable backside against his hips. His erection flared right away, and Byakuya did not bother to stifle his inclination to rub against her.
"Ahhh... you shouldn't... oh, this is so unfair..." Orihime left off clasping her hands together, but they did not seem to be working together, having conflicting goals: one of them slid up under her kimono to yank at his hand, trying to pull it off her breast, but the other reached back to grip Byakuya's thigh, tugging him closer.
"You're not telling me, Orihime," Byakuya reminded her. "You're supposed to be telling me how you don't want this. How you don't love me." He pinched her nipple again, rolling it between his fingers, and ran his tongue from her shoulder to her ear.
.
.
Snippet #8: This would have taken place a day or two after the above scene, which would have finished with Orihime SOMEHOW finding the strength to pull away from our stoic and toothsome captain.
.
Rukia was almost done with her breakfast when Byakuya placed his chopsticks on their rest, an indication he was about to speak. "Rukia," he said, voice pitched low for privacy, "I would have your advice in a delicate matter."
Her eyes nearly popped from her head; Nii-sama wanted her advice? "Y-yes, Nii-sama! I will help you whatever way I can!"
"I am considering stepping down as head of the clan."
She couldn't help it; she gaped at him in shock. He looked paler than usual, and his face seemed drawn. She felt a bolt of pure fear for his health; had not her sister, Hisana-nee-san, sickened and died from grief and stress? It took her many long seconds to regain her composure enough to reply. "Nii-sama. May I ask why?"
"The events of the last ten years have greatly expanded my view of the universe," he said slowly. "I have seen death, and suffering, and war. I have killed many. I have witnessed... breathtaking feats of sacrifice. In contrast, the things the clan finds important are laughable. Their demands are laughable."
She blinked at him. "What have they demanded of you?" Carefully, ruthlessly, she tamped down the fury rising up from the pit of her stomach. How dare those horrible old vultures require anything of her brother, he who had given up so much for them! "If they want me to leave the family, I will do it. Whatever will spare you upset." She set down her own chopsticks, which had been suspended in her frozen hand, and prepared to stand. "I will leave now. Immediately."
"Rukia." Byakuya covered her hand with his own. "It has nothing to do with you. But you have my thanks for your loyalty. You are the best of sisters."
Rukia basked in the glow of his compliment for a moment before forging ahead. "What, then, Nii-sama? Do they..." she searched for some unreasonable request they could have made. "Do they want you to resign your captaincy with the Gotei 13?"
"Would that they had." He gave a rueful shake of the head. "Or any other command that I could bring myself to do." He withdrew his hand from Rukia's and lay it flat on the table. "They wish me to marry, so that I may beget an heir. They have chosen my bride; she is a Kyouraku, the niece of Kyouraku-taichou. An unobjectionable match, and the only possible one at our level, as the Shiba clan is dishonoured and to ally with the Shihouin would mean marrying Yoruichi, who is considered barely honorable."
Unsaid: And I would pitch myself off head-first Soukyoku Hill before wedding myself to that demon cat. But it was understood.
"I met with the girl," Byakuya continued. "She is lovely, well-bred. Well-trained. She would make an ideal wife, an ideal mistress of this family. She would bring grace and honor to the Kuchiki clan, and produce many handsome children." He closed his eyes. "And every time I look at her, I see the face of another."
When he opened his eyes again, they were bright with pain, so bright Rukia fought not to flinch at the sight of it.
"I begin to believe that I am not, in fact, well-suited for the role of clan leader. My judgment seems ever to point me in the opposite direction of what would best benefit my family. My priorities are not those of a man who values his clan over all else; I find I care less and less for wealth, power, and influence as the years pass. This year in particular, I have struggled to maintain any sense of pertinence for clan business.
"We play as gods in arranging marriages, we create financial success or failure at a whim, and all for this entity we have created, 'the Kuchiki family'. What is it? What is family? We are nothing like a family; we care nothing for each other, we use each other as pawns for our own standing and elevation. It repulses me.
"And now they want me to prostitute myself in the most base way, for this 'family'. They would have me cast to the dirt that which should be exalted. That which is exalted, that which I shall never trample underfoot. For though she will not have me, I will not turn from her. If she cannot take the vacant place at my side, then vacant it will stay."
Rukia was weeping silently, helplessly by now. "Yes," she said as firmly as was possible while crying so hard, "yes, Nii-sama, you should step down."
"It will mean a certain amount of dishonor," he said. She knew he was warning her. "We may not ever be able to regain it."
"It never meant anything to me anyway." Rukia sniffled, rubbing her hands over her face to try and do away with the flood of tears. "Besides acquiring you as a brother, I've gained nothing by becoming a Kuchiki that I wouldn't turn my back on in a heartbeat."
"You are the best of sisters, Rukia," Byakuya repeated gently.
"When will you do it?" She took up a napkin and scrubbed it over her blotchy face.
"At the clan meeting that will be starting in ten minutes."
"May I attend?"
If Rukia's eyes were not deceiving her, her brother looked a bit relieved. "I had hoped you would," he replied.
She gave a decisive nod. "Let me send Ukitake-taichou a butterfly so he knows I won't be in until later, and then change into a kimono." She plucked at her hakama. "I will meet you at the grand hall in ten minutes."
Ten minutes later, Rukia presented herself to Byakuya at the meeting hall door. She was resplendent in her most exquisite kimono, a brilliant scarlet with cascades of embroidered cherry blossoms, the symbolism of which was not lost on her brother. There was an underlying fierceness to her outwardly demure appearance that had his lips curling in amusement.
She is a bloodthirsty little thing, he thought with approval.
Ten minutes after that, they left the meeting hall full of elders shocked into horrified silence. Once the tall doors shut behind them, the siblings slumped against them in relief, a shared smile of triumph on their lips.
