Byakuya's guarantee not to dismiss Karin again had started out as insurance, but now it was more like a prison sentence. The man was colder to her than ever before, but never so much as when they duelled with their zanpakuto. She could feel that he hated it most of all, and seemed to walk a razor's edge as they did, as if unsure of what to do with himself: his strokes were passive and his parries lazy, like he was going out of his way not to hurt her, but his gaze seemed to work at the opposite, boring into her with an icy intensity that almost stung to behold.

What was worse, she wasn't able to redo the shunpo she'd managed while fighting the Hollow, no matter how much she tried or how harshly he commanded. And every time it failed to happen, she could sense what he felt: that his guarantee to her had left them chained to one another – like he was a man lost at sea, and she the weight around his ankle dragging him down. They both quickly grew to hate their new circumstances, she could tell, but neither would be the one to break first, either. So every day she went home dreading the next day, and thought of nothing else until it came around. What excuse had she even given her dad?

For a couple of weeks it went on like that, with her seeming to float uselessly in a sea of unspoken resentment, unable to swim against the current, to even perform the simplest act of shunpo to maybe soften his glare just a bit.

And it hurt a lot, because ever since he'd dismissed her, all she'd thought about had been him, and what she could have done differently to impress him, to gain his respect, to prove that she could do it.

The "Kurosaki fighting spirit", as her dad called it, was like this scrappy, plucky little animal inside that refused to give up, and kept coming even when the odds were stacked against it, igniting a fire in her stomach that didn't dim even in the face of such a cold presence as Byakuya's. But that resolve also meant that the Kurosaki were hopelessly ill-equipped to handle personal failure, and when they disappointed themselves, the animal inside bit back hard. And it hurt.

And each time she disappointed him, and each time she was scathingly told as much, the pain inside of her doubled up, until eventually she just wanted to scream it out. She wanted to scream at him, tell him that he needed to ease up, that she was doing her best, that she didn't understand what was going wrong. She wanted to cry. And by the end of week two of their resumed training sessions, she was almost desperate enough to do it in front of him, hoping against all she knew about him that it would strike some wellspring of human decency inside of him and maybe make him stop.

But when the day finally came, she didn't. Instead, her intense hurt seemed only to stoke the fire inside her, turning suddenly to seething anger. And it ate up every insult and condescending look fired at her that day, until finally it was too much to contain and she exploded with it.

The distance between her and Byakuya went from roughly ten feet to nothing in what felt like a single step—

And she slapped him hard across the face. And the crack of it ripping through the air was like the birds singing in the springtime, and his shocked expression far outdid any present she'd ever received on New Year's. And it felt amazing...for a moment. Then, everything turned to darkness.


Byakuya often found that it was helpful to seek council with Senbonzakura on matters he couldn't seem to wrap his head around. Having the perspective of an outside observer, the spirit's clarity usually ensured that he offered sound advice which seemed to penetrate right to the heart of the matter.

Except today. Today he was being completely unreasonable.

Byakuya still couldn't see why Karin had overreacted the way she had.

He sensed in her the same drive that had defined him in his childhood days, training tirelessly at this very estate. He knew well what that drive was capable of. Racing around the grounds with the insufferable Yoruichi would have been impossible without it, but it wasn't, and that meant that it could do the same for her as for him. That was why he pushed her, to try and replicate her use shunpo from before, assuming that drive to succeed would make it happen.

But Senbonzakura begged to differ. Except he was being utterly foolish.

What sane person would make someone hate them on purpose? It was ridiculous.

Byakuya held no illusions about himself, he knew he was disliked by some – Ichigo Kurosaki was a good example. Mutual, too. But that was Kurosaki's own decision, not something Byakuya had worked toward, he knew. That was the crux of it: if he was striving to earn a person's resentment, he'd know it. He'd know it because he'd have a valid reason for doing so, as was his way with everything. And there was no reason to want his pupil to hate him, or to keep her at arm's length. It just wasn't conducive to training.

I was not being especially cold to her, he thought at his sword. There is no reason for me to treat her differently than any other trainee...

But Senbonzakura's foolishness knew no bounds today.

Because I was merely being reminded of Hisana, he responded to his zanpakuto, not that the spirit's words deserved it. I love Hisana, and they are nothing alike.

Senbonzakura's next words made Byakuya's decision for him: this Jinzen session was over. It would do him no good for his zanpakuto to go planting wild thoughts in his head. He'd had a hard enough time sleeping in the weeks before Karin returned, he didn't need any doubt cast on his sureness now.

But as he looked up from the zanpakuto resting across his lap, he caught site of her sleeping face in Rukia's bed. And he sheathed his sword so that he might ignore it, before it asked another needless question, like why he was sitting there with her instead of leaving her care to a maid, as before. Byakuya didn't need to answer anything like that.

Not that he couldn't, mind, he just didn't need to.

But, if he had to guess, he'd say it was likely because he felt some degree of sympathy for her, as someone trying and failing to protect their sibling. It reminded him of his own predicament during Ichigo Kurosaki's break-in of Seireitei.

And that was it. Only sympathy. Because they were too different, she and her. No matter what Senbonzakura rashly assumed, Byakuya loved his wife, he loved what his wife had been like, and nothing else, nothing different. There was a reason he'd only fallen in love once: because Hisana had been perfect, and anything not in line with who she had been was less than that.

As for Karin, Karin was far less, he told himself. She was brash, stubborn, mouthy at times; she was ungraceful, she complained too much, and of course, she'd slapped him in the face. Who could love anybody like that? She was too much of a...

A handful, Byakuya decided, for he'd been about to use challenge instead.

Karin rustled, pulling Byakuya out of his head. Then her eyes fluttered and she must have spotted him sitting there, because once she'd blinked them wide open a couple of times, she went pink and pulled the blankets up so that they covered her nose. He couldn't tell if it was to protect herself from him or the other way around.

He stood. "I suppose you'll want to eat something," he droned. "You collapsed because your reiryoku could not withstand the training..."

When Karin's eyebrows knitted together as if she were angry, Byakuya continued so as to cut off any chance for her to retort like the child she was.

"However, since I've already given you my word not to end your training again, I suppose the only thing there is to do is to ensure that you don't die on my watch," he explained. "It would look unbecoming," he finished, and turned toward the door. "I trust you remember where the dining hall is."

And with that, he left her.


Karin just laid there, content to stew cross-armed under her blanket, pulled over and behind her head so that it held taut just above her nose. It was getting warm in there, either from her own body heat or her still-smouldering anger – perhaps a little of both – but she refused to come out. Byakuya could eat dinner alone, for all she cared, and she would just ignore the aches of hunger in her stomach until she had enough energy to stand and go home.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been under there before she heard the door to the bedroom creak. Sure it was Byakuya, she rolled over, making a cocoon of her tent, and drew her knees to her chest.

"Excuse me, Miss," came a familiar voice. Karin rolled herself out of the blankets to find the older woman in the smock from her last visit, smiling at her with all the warmth Byakuya lacked.

Then Karin folded her arms in front of her chest. "You can tell him I'm going home as soon as I can get up, okay?" she pouted.

"I apologize, Miss," came the woman, "but I'm not here as a messenger." She sounded worried.

"Is something the matter?" Karin asked the woman genuinely. There was no reason to ration her anger at Byakuya amongst his workers.

"Actually, I'm concerned about Byakuya-sama," she said, casting a sidelong glance at the ajar door. "He needs his strength, but I'm afraid he won't eat."

"Maybe he's not hungry," Karin suggested, trying to sound as if she cared about him for the lady's sake. It was tough.

The woman shook her head solemnly. "Actually, Miss, I was wondering when you were planning on joining him in the dining hall," she said suddenly.

"Didn't you hear?" Karin said a little too harshly, and winced. "I'm going home once I can get up," she finished more softly.

At that, the woman turned to leave, Karin thought, but instead, she shut the door and came to sit on the chair Byakuya had left beside the bed.

"Please, Miss," she said with an imploring look, "if you don't come down, I fear Byakuya-sama will go hungry tonight."

What was she talking about?

"But he can just tell the cooks to start making the food without me, right?" Karin asked, curious.

"It isn't the cooks, Miss, it's Byakuya-sama himself," she said, taking one of Karin's hands up in hers. They were somewhere between rough and soft – the hands of a working woman, but well-tended. "Did you not notice during your last visit, that Byakuya-sama had the courses brought out only after you'd arrived?"

Karin thought about it, because she hadn't before, and realized the woman was right. But...

"But I didn't even know if I was going to be able to make it down there," Karin said, remembering her weakened legs, like boiled noodles.

"Nor did Byakuya-sama, I suspect. But it's likely that he simply didn't want to eat alone," said the woman, sounding forlorn. "You see," she continued, "like you, Byakuya-samahas a sister, but the young mistress is no longer around, I'm afraid..."

Karin's scalp tightened. "Is she...?"

"Oh no, she's very well. In fact, she's a vice-Captain," the woman corrected, and Karin felt very relieved. She wasn't at all surprised that someone related to Byakuya held such a high rank in the same organization as him. All that family pride, annoying as it was, didn't seem unfounded.

"So what happened?" Karin asked, refraining from adding the Did she get sick of Byakuya too? that finished her thought.

"As I understand, she was seduced and taken away by some kind of ruffian," said the woman, seeming mildly confused as she did.

"Oh, that's...I'm sorry," said Karin, for nothing else came to mind.

The woman shook her head. "I think she's happy...It's Byakuya-samathat—" she paused, seeming to collect her thoughts. "He seems rather lonely without her. He was very fond of her, you see."

Though it seemed natural to be fond of your family, somehow it still surprised Karin to hear that Byakuya managed it.

"But he eats just fine when I'm not here, right? This is only the second time I've been in this place," Karin pointed out.

The woman's easy smile returned. "To be honest, I think he enjoys your company," she said.

"That's not true!" came Karin immediately, causing the woman to squint at the volume. "He's a jerk! He hates me!"

"Is that so?" came the woman, surprisingly slyly. "You think someone who hates you would personally carry you up to this room and lay you here?" she asked, and Karin felt herself become very warm, and not just in the face. "Would he sit beside you until you awoke if he hated you? Or sit at the dinner table just to starve himself?"

"I dunno," Karin said quietly, turning away from the woman, "maybe..."

"I think, perhaps, that he feels bad about whatever happened between you two," the woman put forth, causing Karin to scoff before she could stop herself.

"You're wrong about that," she said knowingly.

There was a pensive pause before the woman spoke again. "Byakuya-sama is...not well-versed in apology," she said, allowing herself a bemused grin. "Even if you did join him, I doubt he'd say he was sorry, but..."

"Fine," Karin interrupted. She still didn't believe it, but hearing about it was annoying. "I'll go, but only because I'm really hungry," she admitted. The woman smiled broadly.

"Thank you," she said.