Byakuya lowered his zanpakuto upon realizing that the Adjuchas before him was frozen in place, caught in the air like a fly in amber. This had always been the part of owning a zanpakuto that he disliked the most: their ability to stop everything you were doing just so they could have their say. Entitled interference, he called it. And though he disliked it on the grounds of it being disruptive and presumptuous of the zanpakuto, he hated mostly what it meant: it was the boss calling you into his office to reprimand you.

Senbonzakura's office – Byakuya's Inner World – took the form of an endless grove of sakura trees, neatly arranged in files and ranks, as orderly as pieces on a shogi board. Cutting through the grove was a single narrow pathway of pristine, white, interlocking flagstones which sparkled in the perpetual moonlight like a blanket of freshly fallen snow. The sky above was that of a clear night devoid of stars, the vast expanse interrupted only by the lonely moon, which today was full, though its state changed with his mood.

Byakuya immediately made his way, as he had a hundred times before, to the only tree which stood apart from the sea of light pink, for its blossoms were perfectly white. It stood in place of any other normal tree that might have been there were it not, intermingled, rather than in a spot reserved only for itself; but Byakuya could always find it. And he placed his hand gently on its trunk, which was smooth, and warm like a living person – a tragic irony, as the person responsible for its existence in the grove was gone.

Hisana's tree.

"Surprised to see it standing?" came Senbonzakura's sourceless voice, seeming to echo from behind a hundred trees at once.

"The way you spoke, I assumed..." but Byakuya paused, unable to finish the thought, let alone its sentence.

"You still don't understand, do you?" came the disappointed voice, which Byakuya was already tired of. If he was going to be reprimanded, he'd much rather have it done to his face.

So he pulled his hand away from the tree and began to make his way down the long stone path, at the end of which Senbonzakura would be waiting, he knew. As he did, he felt like the mallet being drawn across a xylophone; and if he was the mallet, then the trees were the bars, and Senbonzakura's voice the music: for it followed in his wake, always keeping pace, every word seeming to emanate from behind the tree directly beside Byakuya, no matter how briskly he strode. It alternated between left and right sporadically, lending to itself a ubiquity that Byakuya found unsettling, but was also used to.

"I suppose you've discerned why I brought you here," came Senbonzakura's voice in his self-righteous tone.

"Clearly, you believe you have something worth it for me to hear," Byakuya answered as he walked, adding, "though I'd disagree" a little quieter. He knew the spirit would hear him regardless.

"That's exactly the point," came the voice frustratedly, so that it seemed to shake the trees it rang out from as he passed them, and their petals quivered. "Why do you think you're having such trouble defeating this Hollow?" he asked.

"I am not the one having trouble," Byakuya corrected. "Your reaction time is slow. It's as simple as that."

Again, the petals shook, like a harsh wind had filtered through them in Byakuya's wake, though they did so now in silence.

"I am not one to be ignored, Byakuya Kuchiki," came Senbonzakura pompously, seeming riled. "You've refused to talk to me for over a month. Did you honestly expect me to fight alongside you with any resolve?"

The question instantly brought an answer to Byakuya's mind, which he refrained from speaking out of habit, but it was no use – Senbonzakura would already know it anyway:

I expected you to put your pride aside and protect her.

"Ah..." echoed the voice, suddenly smug. "So I was right."

"No such thing," Byakuya snapped back. "She is my pupil, it is my responsibility to ensure her continued existence for the sake of upholding the Commander's decision. Therefore, it is also your responsibility," he explained formally.

"Trying to sound like the man you were six years ago won't change my mind, you know," Senbonzakura pointed out.

That was the whole reason Byakuya had been dragged here, why he'd started shutting out Senbonzakura's opinions. And it was still unreasonable, and it was still utterly wrong.

"I have not changed, no matter what you say to the contrary," Byakuya came back. "I am the same as I have always been. I am still the man I was when I married Hisana."

"The same as you've always been?" Senbonzakura parroted in disbelief. "Do you remember when we first met?" he asked.

Of course. Byakuya had still been young, enough so that the spirit had towered head-and-shoulders above him. Back then, Senbonzakura had this annoying and insolent habit of poking Byakuya hard in the forehead whenever he thought the boy did something childish, which was often.

"I do," Byakuya affirmed, as if Senbonzakura didn't already know the memories his mind had found.

"I distinctly remember a mouthy, short-tempered little brat who would let something as simple as a poke to the forehead set him off," said Senbonzakura, much to Byakuya's chagrin. "And that boy was not the man who married Hisana. The difference was night and day."

That, Byakuya had to admit, was true. Under his grandfather's guidance and his own staunch force of will, Byakuya had managed to make a better man of himself than he had been a boy. He knew it was true, because he'd been quite proud of the accomplishment – he'd felt like he'd finally become a Kuchiki his grandfather could be proud of.

"And your point?" Byakuya asked.

"I'm saying that people change," Senbonzakura urged. "Before Ichigo Kurosaki came along, you were quite a dispassionate sort of man. But something changed in you following his intrusion into Seireitei. You noticed, didn't you? How, before, you fought to ensure your own sister's execution, only to risk death at the point of Ichimaru's sword a short while later."

"That had nothing to do with Kurosaki," Byakuya stated. He heard a sigh whisper through the trees. He noted that they were becoming more and more sparsely covered in blossoms as he approached Senbonzakura proper, with petals littering the ground beneath. He knew that meant they had been shedding their leaves, which of course meant trouble.

There were no seasons here, just as there was no transition from night to day, and the trees stayed perpetually in bloom, save for when Byakuya was sad, or anguished...or ignored his zanpakuto. And Senbonzakura, who seemed to have a bit of gardener in him, hated when his trees were defaced like that more than anything. By the time Senbonzakura finally spoke again, Byakuya was walking in a forest of bare trees, as if in late autumn.

"That is not the point," came Senbonzakura's exasperated tone.

"Then I advise you to reach it before my patience completely runs out," Byakuya called, but not to the trees.

He'd reached Senbonzakura's palace, which was a large, rounded gazebo-like structure made of something sturdy, seemingly alabaster. Under its high-arched roof was a perfectly circular courtyard, in the heart of which was a beautiful, tight arrangement of sakura which never shed despite Byakuya's mood. Housed in the centre of the arrangement, with the interlocking branches of each sakura forming a pink canopy with their blossoms to be his roof, sat Senbonzakura on a perfectly-cut stump, which had never been a tree, but always a place for him to sit.

He was a rather handsome young man, with a face that might have been much like Byakuya's own, had it not such fair skin, or eyes that shone the colour of the surrounding sakura, or lacked any eyebrows. His long, white hair would have fallen halfway down his back were its end not folded up to meet its middle, clasped in place just behind his neck by an ornamental hairpiece secured laterally with a gold pin. The effect was to create a loop of hair that hung from the clasp, which if viewed from Senbonzakura's side resembled a teardrop shape.

His clothing also resembled Byakuya's, with of a black kosode and hakama, but differed in that the uderlying shitagi, as well as the sash at his waist, were pink like his eyes. Like Rukia's, Senbonzakura's sleeves came only to his elbows. In place of Byakuya's haori, Senbonzakura wore a white kataginu with pink lining and the Kuchiki family crest emblazoned on each breast, making his outfit less the shihakusho of a Shinigami and more the kamishimo of a Tokugawa-era nobleman. In stark contrast to his formality of dress, the spirit was, as always, without footwear of any kind, something Byakuya found uncouth to this day.

Senbonzakura, smirking, stood and strode gracefully over to Byakuya.

"My point is," he continued from before, "that you've become altogether different from the man who married Hisana. You're a more passionate man than before, so it is no surprise that your tastes would change accordingly," he said, all sureness.

"I fail to see why this is so imperative to you, but sadly, you're mistaken. You're talking about Karin, who is nothing like my wife," Byakuya told him. He had to put an end to this.

Then Senbonzakura did something he hadn't in ages: he poked Byakuya hard in the forehead.

"Don't be naive," he said past Byakuya's rising anger. "That's precisely what I'm saying," he continued, and started walking. Reluctantly, Byakuya followed, being led back out of the palace and into the grove. "Perhaps what you want is a brash, mouthy, ungraceful, complaining challenge." He stopped only a short ways from the palace, where the trees were still bare.

"And why would I want such a thing?" Byakuya humoured. "Something so unlike—"

Senbonzakura didn't let him finish. "Unlike Hisana, yes," he agreed, "but very like you." When he caught Byakuya's befuddlement, he met it with a smirk before going on. "All those things are what makes Karin a passionate person, much like you are now. Hisana was soft-spoken, polite, very proper, all the things you used to be..."

"I still am," Byakuya defended swiftly. "And are you implying that I am self-obsessed?" he asked incredulously.

"There are two reasons any one person is attracted to any other: either they see something in that person that they admire because the lack it in themselves, or they see things that reminds them of what they admire within themselves," explained the spirit, after which he clasped Byakuya's shoulder. It made him uncomfortable. "I'm merely suggesting that you're the kind of person in the second category."

Byakuya shrugged out of the hold. "And what proof do you have of this?" Byakuya asked. If he had spent all that time fretting about it before, how had Senbonzakura become so sure?

"You're looking at it," said the spirit. And he stepped aside.

Byakuya was faced with yet another bare tree. It was quite a bit smaller and thinner – newer – than the rest, but he didn't—

Wait, where were the petals under it? Each tree which had shed its petals had them collected in a circle at the base of the trunk, but the ground beneath this tree was clean.

Byakuya took a step closer, and then he saw it: this tree wasn't bare at all, its branches were covered with unopened buds, as expected for a new tree. He whipped about to face Senbonzakura, who was grinning like a fool.

"This is your proof?" he asked, severely unimpressed. "This is nothing." It was true, because new trees grew in this place all the time, with every new experience in Byakuya's life.

The long sigh Senbonzakura let out seemed to blow away Byakuya's Inner World, save for the new tree, leaving them standing together in Karakura, in the frozen midst of the Adjuchas attack. Byakuya could look upon his still self, bleeding from the forehead, his sword's empty hilt readied against the Hollow despite it having knocked him on his back. He could also look upon Karin, who looked utterly terrified a little ways behind, where he'd swept her earlier.

He remembered that this was no random attack: it was planned. He wasn't sure he believed the rumours of a new queen of Hueco Mundo, but if they were true, then she was certainly using this Adjuchas in an attempt to remove Karin as a threat. The girl was spilling over with untapped potential, and unlocking more each day. The only reason for an Adjuchas to suddenly enter Karakura like this would be to put an end to that.

Before he knew it, he'd walked over to Karin's motionless form, only realizing after he finally blinked. She looked scared, of course, but something else glinted in her eyes, behind the fear. Something Byakuya couldn't quite place.

And she wasn't watching the Hollow.

She looked so...

Senbonzakura's single chuckle caused Byakuya to wheel around, expecting to find his zanpakuto spirit hitting him with yet another smirk. But Senbonzakura was looking instead at the tree he'd brought with them, standing out-of-place in the middle of the road where the battle was playing out.

A bud had opened up. And it was blooming perfectly white.

Suddenly, they were back amongst the trees. Byakuya cast a sad look back at where he knew Hisana's tree stood...he hoped.

"That's what you don't get," said Senbonzakura, having seemingly read his mind. "Hisana's is still there, it's not going to go anywhere. It will always be there. But it's finished growing, and if you keep neglecting this new one in its favour..." Senbonzakura nodded toward the new tree. Its blossom, which had only just opened, had fallen to the ground below. "Then this one will never have its chance to grow..."

"But...I love my wife..." Byakuya said, barely listening to himself, only staring at the fallen blossom, the sight of which filled him with a deep sadness.

"I know," he heard Senbonzakura reply.

"But I love—" he began, and even before he finished, a second bud broke open and spread out, all in white.

Byakuya suddenly felt Senbonzakura's hand on his shoulder. "I know."


The Hollow's roar tearing through the night brought Byakuya back in a rush. A storm of pink blades came crashing into its side, but it resisted and stalked forward at only a slowed pace, as if walking against a pretty strong gust of wind. Byakuya heard Karin scramble behind him, then went deaf as something slammed into the side of his head. The silence broke into a high-pitched ringing as he twisted through the air, arms and legs akimbo, before hitting the ground hard enough to empty his lungs.

Without taking time to inhale or even look up from the road, Byakuya thrust his arm out in the direction of Karin's heavy breathing, and from the corner of his eye caught the yellow-orange light of the barrier he'd erected around her. Now he couldn't hear her at all, and though it was only because she was inside the barrier, it still filled him with unease. Filling his lungs so quickly that they burned, he sprang up just in time to see the Adjuchas punch the cube of light, partially shattering it.

Byakuya dashed for Senbonzakura's hilt, which he'd dropped when the beast sent him flying. He rolled over it and came up on his knees with it in his hands, before throwing it in the Hollow's direction. It arced right between the Hollow and the barrier before touching the ground. It then dropped out of sight into the road as if it had fallen in water.

"Bankai."

The Hollow leaped backwards, narrowly avoiding the gigantic katana blade which had sprung up between it and the barrier, joined by many others in succession, creating a giant metal fence which kept it from its prey. At the same time, a second row erupted behind it, preventing its total retreat. It looked up and down, left and right, seemingly confused.

Funny, he'd heard they were the smart ones.

The blades all at once evaporated into billions of pink petals, which converged on the Hollow. They buried him like an avalanche before he could even shriek, as the barrier around Karin faded away. It was over.

However, just as Byakuya got to his feet, something burst out of the blade storm, rocketing into the air: it was the Hollow, missing an arm as well as both its legs, but still very much alive. It roared as it descended on Karin like a lightning bolt, arm outstretched, ready for the finishing blow.

Except it wasn't ready, because it had not been the one to deliver it. And as it fell in half a mere foot from its target, Byakuya couldn't help his surprise.

Ichigo Kurosaki, clad in his new bankai, stood before him.

"Long time no see, Byakuya," he said.