Chapter 16 – Soul

"The Shōgo has arrived," a booming voice echoed from outside a vast throne room, and the glimmering white doors of the chamber opened to reveal one Kuchiki Byakuya, his strides firm and his eyes red.

A large, imposing figure stood up from where he sat on his enormous throne and descended down the steps to greet the Kuchiki noble.

"Welcome back, Byakuya," he greeted, a half-smile graced the sharp planes of his face.

Byakuya only nodded back, hastily extended his greetings with a curt bow, "Tennō."

"The Seika," he started, but the Tennō held out his hand to signal his understanding of Byakuya's concerns.

"Yes," he inclined his head, closing his eyes in deep consternation, "I see him."

Then his eyebrows crinkled into a frown of worry, "I fear that what comes next would deeply affect you, my son," he opened his eyes and looked deeply into the ruby reds of the noble before him.

"Protect him," the Tennō firmly stated, to which Byakuya could only open his mouth in response before a servant interrupted by announcing the Seika's current state as ordered by the head healer of the Tennō's dominion.

He left soon after to find the healer who took care of his lieutenant, the question at the tip of his tongue was forgotten. Unbeknownst to him, the Tennō watched on as his back disappeared from the chamber, a saddened look marred his serene expression.

From yourself, he thought, sighing as he trudged in barely contained fatigue at what was about to come.

The red mark never faded. It wasn't a scar, it didn't dry over and remained as nothing more than a fleshy white bump on an otherwise unblemished skin. It stayed as red as the blood that seeped from it the first time the thin layer of skin was cut, even though the healer herself confirmed that the tiny wound had closed seamlessly.

It served as a reminder of his failure to protect the only person that was more precious to him than life itself. And for that, his charge bore the stinging red mark to constantly be reminded that his guardian was also his greatest threat.

And for that—and so much more—Abarai Renji drifted away from him.

That didn't mean he completely neglected his duties and went into a subdued, dark corner to be sorry for himself and mull over his depression, however, As a matter of fact, he would admit that he was proudly running away from his most important duty of all to tighten other loose ends that he would otherwise not care about given more... preferable circumstances.

That was why he was hastily descending down to the Soul Palace dimension in search of a certain other neglected shinigami he had left behind. It was also an excuse to punish himself and surrender to admitting all his greatest sins that happened in the span of the past month or less, to the last person he wanted to admit all those things to.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

The orange-haired substitute growled in annoyance at the irritating noble who was walking towards him. "You bastard, how long do you expect me to sit around and twiddle my thumbs while you—your eyes," he leaned in to take a good lock of the noble's red eyes, to which Byakuya fixed him with a cold, hard glare.

Ichigo took in the sight of the Sixth Division Captain—he was still wearing his captain's uniform, albeit the white haori was gone in place for a black one, his eyes were red and his face was that of a man charged with the most heinous crime. The captain looked decidedly defeated and ashamed, even though he could see that the man tried his best to look as if nothing was wrong—he was quite an open book despite his stoicism.

"What happened?" he finally asked the noble in all seriousness.

Ichigo had been left in the Soul King's lower dimension to recuperate in one of Kirinji's healing ponds—that the man insisted to call it Kirinden, quite narcissistic if you asked him—and stranded in Hikifune's bizarre yet comfortable 'city' for the past week, waiting for any news from the noble who disappeared with an unconscious Renji. He had asked the Royal Guards numerous times to let him go see them, but they insisted that he could not possibly follow where the pair had gone. When he asked them what did they mean, they only gave him vague explanation—as per standard protocol, it seems, when it comes to those irritating people.

And now that Kuchiki Byakuya had returned—without Renji in sight—Ichigo's worry grew and grew. The little fact that Byakuya came with his eyes as red as blood, and remembering the explanation from the Gotei 13 he received some month ago about Renji and the whole Seika situation, meeting with some guy with red eyes and whatnots, he couldn't help but become suspicious of the noble. Was he the same Byakuya as he was? Or was he the Byakuya from Renji's—the Seika's—dreams?

It didn't matter for now because the noble was looking concerningly morose. His expression was guarded tightly but his ruby-red orbs conveyed shame and frustration that his otherwise stoic demeanor could not. If Ichigo wasn't being so scrutinizing, he wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

"I may have done something," the raven started slowly as if he was hesitant to share his secret with the orange-haired substitute in front of him.

"Something that could not be forgiven," he quietly finished, shifting his gaze to somewhere above Ichigo's head as to not look at the other in the eyes.

That was the final alarm.

"Asshole, what did you do?" Ichigo stepped closer, the brute that he was, tugged at the collar of Byakuya's robes and drew the noble close enough that he could see the dilation of the other's alien red eyes.

It seemed that Byakuya wasn't as unguarded as he previously thought, however, because the next thing he knew, the noble's pale, strong fingers wrapped around his hand and squeezed.

"Unhand me, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Feeling his bones about to give in and snap, Ichigo released his hold from the noble's collar and tugged his hand free from Byakuya's loosened grip. He warily looked at the dark man in front of him, unconsciously massaging his aching wrist bone.

It was a surprise that the noble was still amenable enough to share with him the event that took place scant a week ago. It seemed that he was not keen of keeping his guilt to himself, and seek to punish himself by telling Ichigo, of all people, of his woes.

He retold the event from the time he entered the healer's chamber, not mentioning the facts that he deemed not important for the substitute to know at the moment—like his background, the dimension he was in, who he met beforehand—and skipped to the part where he found Renji awake with fear in his eyes. He told Ichigo of the clear as the day visions and memories he saw broadcasted from Renji's unstable mind, his fingers clenched tightly as he narrated what Renji's awakening affect. When he came to the end of his story, he paused.

"I did not know what came over me," he murmured lowly, "my mind was foggy and my body moved on its own. All I could feel was... anger. And all I could think about was retribution."

"The next thing I know, I had my sword in my hands as I gaze into his eyes," he swallowed, the memory was fresh and vivid in his eyes as the drop of blood still staining the forgotten Senbonzakura, "If I hadn't been conscious by then, I—"

He stumbled as he felt the unforgiving touch of a tightly balled fist against his left cheek, he could hear the sound of bones crunching in protest and the substitute before him cursed at his dislocated wrist.

"You fucking—" the orange-haired shinigami bellowed, his tone loud to hide the pain as he mercilessly snapped the bone back in place, "you said it. You said that you will kill yourself to protect him."

"And now you're the one who hurt him!"

"He killed my wife!" Byakuya raised his voice, not to be outdone by the yelling shinigami. He could feel his control wavered and his reiatsu lashed around the area.

"That's not in his control!" Ichigo growled in frustration, "you said it yourself, asshole! She was already dying, and he didn't choose to be what he is—"

Byakuya snapped, "he killed a lot more than just her."

That got Ichigo to quiet down. But it was not because he gave in and relent to Byakuya's own anger, but it was a shocked, utterly horrified silence. Not at what Byakuya told him Renji did, but at the noble himself.

Ichigo couldn't honestly believe what he heard just came out of the noble's mouth. "So now you're blaming him again?" he looked disbelievingly at the raven, "after what happened? What you did, knowingly?"

"Open your eyes, Byakuya," he whispered, shaking his head "you're losing him."

"And if that's what you want then I will gladly take him from you," Ichigo declared in conviction, looking at the noble in challenge.

Byakuya's vermillion eyes narrowed at that.

Abarai Renji was found walking briskly to an unknown destination while the healer trailed behind, struggling to catch up with his long legs. He just got back to his feet after a week of constant surveillance by the healer, his body prodded and his mind assessed very thoroughly.

All the while he remained silent, accepting and cooperative, if not for the fact that he refused to see or even acknowledge his captain whenever the man entered the chamber, only to stand by the door as if waiting for Renji to invite him in.

He would usually turn to the other side of the bed and closed his eyes tightly, wishing the other would leave as quickly as possible. For a time, the raven did, until he tried to move closer and touch Renji only to find fear and guilt entrenched deep into the redhead's chocolate eyes and the red, red mark that was glaring against the pale skin that he was forced to look away.

Byakuya never visited his healing room ever since. And it served Renji good, or so he convinced himself. He was unable to face the noble after knowing of his past. It was too much, too shameful of him to even try to think about it. He was not being his usual, steadfast self, but he found himself an alien in his own body in the past few months.

He didn't own his body as much as he didn't own his soul. That fact, he knew deep within his conscious. He owned nothing for he was nothing but a—

"Seika-sama, I implore you to not be so—"

Renji turned on his heels to face the healer dead in the eye. "I wish to see Him."

The healer stopped in her chase of the tall redhead and quieted in the authoritative tone he took. She looked him over, her enchanted eyes scrutinizing his physical form to see any disturbances that may have any long term effects that she hadn't been able to fix, and his mental state to see if he was still as fragile as the week before. She found resolve in his eyes, whether it was good or bad, she couldn't tell. But she knew that she couldn't hold him to her healing chamber any longer.

"Of course, my lord."

Renji nodded at her assent and continued on his long strides, his feet taking him down numerous and extraordinarily large halls that his mind had effortlessly supplied to him to reach his desired destination. Not long after he was standing in front of a large double door guarded with two incredibly huge, humanoid guards who looked at him with a shocked expression and scrambled to open the door at his gesture. It was almost laughable how they would stumble around in his comparably smaller presence, just because he was...

He shook his head and braced himself, urging his mind out of all unnecessary musings until he was devoid of thoughts and his heart beating steadily, ready to face the being within the chamber.

The Tennō was already expecting him when he walked into the vast chamber.

The majestic being smiled and spread his arms, his voice a soothing lullaby as he welcomed Renji. "Little One."

And Renji didn't know why, didn't bother to stop it, as his tight expression fell apart and a frustrated tear trailed down his eye the moment the Tennō called him with such warmth and nostalgia.

"Father..." he whispered weakly, and the next thing he knew he was wrapped in an enormous hug, his face buried into the Tennō's majestic robes as his arms dangled helplessly.

At last, he was at peace, the beautiful sensation of his entire being enveloped by warm light and beautiful haven that he never wanted to part from suffused into his very being and turned him into a creature of light.

It didn't last, however, because he had made his mind. Nothing is permanent, he grimly thought as the embrace turned cold.

His shifted uncomfortably, signaling to the Tennō that the imminent future he had foreseen was already starting.

"Why did you do it?" Why did you erase my memory of such a horrendous past?

"To spare you from the pain," the being said quietly, murmuring into the crown of vermillion hair as he squeezed the smaller deity in his arms.

"It was my burden to bear," Renji snarled, pulling away from the once comforting embrace, angry tears soaking his cheeks and he glared at the Tennō with contempt.

"Doesn't this remind you of someone?" he asked finally, "to take the lives of thousands to awaken an entity for 'the greater good'?"

Yes it does, the deity thought. He had admitted it in his mind and he had seen the resemblance as clear as the daylight.

Aizen Sousuke.

Any other being would accuse of such similarity, but even one with a minuscule of wisdom left in his heart would deny, that the contemptuous mortal was misguided in his ways, his idea of 'good' skewed and twisted.

But everyone is just in their own mind. Every villain makes grand heroes in their own tales. He had no right to say otherwise.

"You are a hypocrite, Father," Renji lashed viciously, "you put me there to stop evil when you created a curse."

"You are not a curse!" the Tennō bellowed in warning, daring Renji to speak another word that spoke of his misplaced judgments, and with a more quiet tone he continued, "you are the force of good, Renji."

"Then why does the force of 'good' demands the souls of thousands?" the redhead snapped in retaliation.

The Tennō sighed, he knew that whatever reasons he threw at the redhead before him would fall on deaf ears as he continued to blame himself and his existence. But the next words that came from the Seika's weakened voice froze him.

"Why did you give me a soul?"

"Are you implying your feelings for him, Kurosaki Ichigo?" Kuchiki Byakuya voiced lowly, a calm underlying the strong current of threats ready to be executed at moment's notice.

When you know he is mine?

"And if I am?" Ichigo stood his ground, his voice was unwavering as he glared on to the noble.

Truth be told, he didn't know why he said what he said, why he implied that he loved Renji. The notion itself was alien, but not unwelcome in his mind. He had cared for the redhead for as long as they were friends, his wild yet kind redhead a colorful addition to his life, with Rukia in tow. He always thought that he had a crush on the petite raven until he realized he had always looked at her the way he was looking at his sisters—she even reminded him of Karin. And then he started looking at Renji in a different light.

He started to notice how the redhead did things, how he tied his hair up in that impossibly high ponytail, how good he was at cooking and how he would love to have him cook for him for the rest of his life, how he would look almost enticing with his casual white kimono and how he would be overly dramatic about certain things that made Ichigo wanted to squeeze his cheeks. How he would be obsessed over his appearances, even going so far as removing the tattoo on his forehead, and coming out looking even more attention-grabbing than before. How people would constantly surround him for his warm and sunny aura.

At first, he was weirded out by his thoughts and feelings for the redhead, but the more they grew closer as friends, the more he cared and wanted to see him smile and laugh that annoyingly boisterous laugh of his. It wasn't until a few months ago that things started going sour for Renji and it was a rare treat to see him looking happy. And it was a more frequent theme to stood on and watch as the lieutenant struggled to keep his expression in check and his shoulders from trembling while he would open up about his situation to Ichigo.

The redhead would sigh morosely as he stared off into the horizon as they sat on the porch inside the Kuchiki Manor, "I never tell anyone this, Ichigo, just to let you know... Rukia, she... she can't possibly understand. She practically thinks her brother is a god or something, you know? I don't know if I can stand any more of this whole 'protect Renji' charade that he had going on."

He would squeeze his arm insecurely and wrinkled his lips as if he didn't want to say something. "He is... he's incapable of understanding people's feelings, Ichigo. He treats me more like an object rather than a person. Shit, I sound like a girl, but..."

"Renji," and Ichigo would frown, both in sympathy and anger at the insensitive noble, "hey, that bastard can suck it up, let's bail."

He thought that it would cheer the redhead up, maybe even drew a smile. But he just closed himself up even more, drawing away from him.

"The thing is... he got a point. I'm too risky to be left unchecked," the redhead breathed in a resigned tone, "I may be a weak link for Soul Society. I don't want that."

It broke Ichigo to see the defeated look in Renji's eyes. And that was long before the revelation of his nature as the Seika. And after his imprisonment in the Muken, Ichigo never got a chance to see him again, not until a week ago when they stormed Hueco Mundo, only to see the redhead in a death-like state.

And now, learning of his past, what he must've felt, the tremendous amount of guilt of something he couldn't control... the realization that what he feared himself to be was true in the most horrible way imaginable, only to have the person who was supposed to protect him hurt and betrayed his trust at his weakest moment.

"I'm tired of seeing you letting him down and hurting him over and over again," Ichigo stated coldly, his tone implying the numerous occasions the redhead was hurt emotionally and physically that he knew the noble knew he had caused.

"If he was mine, I would never let him out of my sight."

Byakuya snarled at the implication, "you dare lay a claim on—"

"You hate him, don't you?" Ichigo snapped, "you can't let go of the fact that your wife died and you blamed him for it."

"Don't you speak of my wife," the raven growled, his fingers flexing, itching to strangle the tanned flesh of the mortal in front of him.

"You can't have it both ways, Byakuya. You can't hate him and have him."

"I will kill you." Too bad Senbonzakura wasn't there—it wouldn't be a clean-cut after all.

When he was about to make do of his promise, an ominous sensation thumped through his chest as he felt his heart caved in. He grunted as he fell to the ground, barely hearing the voice of the irritable substitute before his eyes widened in realization.

A part of his soul was about to be taken from him.

It was a vast, barren land amongst lush greeneries and peaceful creeks; the ground dried up, sunken down and several tones darker than the rest of the moist soil surrounding it. By its edge was a sizeable, old Japanese house that seemed to be well-kept despite its age. Visitors of the area would be awed by its condition, archaeologists and historians would swarm the place to learn of its origin, if not for the fact that the house and the area surrounding it was charmed to be invisible to all human senses.

Barragan Louisenbairn took note of his surroundings. "What is this place?"

"It will be our temporary camp until I could acquire us a better headquarters," Aizen Sousuke explained curtly as he took the lead to the abandoned house. The inside was surprisingly clean as if someone took the time to visit and clean the place routinely.

"But why here?" the old Arrancar pressed. He was not keen on being surrounded by the human culture, let alone their... wreckage, even ones as tidily kept as this one.

"I was born here," Aizen told him simply, a smile in his voice as he felt rather than saw the surprised looks of his followers—sans Ichimaru and Tosen, most likely.

He trailed his fingers on antique trinkets left in the room they were in. "It was the Warring States era, in 1579 when Nobunaga encouraged relations with the European to suppress the threat from a powerful Buddhist sect, the Ikkō-Ikki by promoting Christianity through their missionaries. It was around the same time that the Portuguese started to introduce their culture and," he paused, his fingers hovered over an ancient chessboard, following the confused silence of his Arrancars.

"How silly of me." There was no way they would understand a word he just spoke.

"I was a waiting soul until I discovered that I hold a significantly large reiryoku reserve, and thus I became a shinigami," he opted for the simple, vague story of his past instead, "and the rest is history."

"But how did you remember your past?"

"I didn't," he answered, "like all waiting souls, I only hold glimpses of the past that I would rapidly forget not long after. So I studied what I had left and found out about my past life myself. It was helpful that my human family held extensive records of our lineage."

Finishing Aizen's story, there was a contemplative silence that ensued amongst their ranks. Aizen's past raked curiosity for the Arrancars, even Ichimaru and Tosen didn't know much else of his past other than what he had conveyed just now. They never bothered or pestered him about it and he never told them anything past the surface. But seeing his actions in the past few days, with the Seika and his affinity for the deity, it raised questions whether he was somehow involved with the being in the past.

Maybe his human past.

Tier Harribel picked up the question that everyone in the room wanted to ask. "What are we going to do now? How are we going to get to the Soul King's Palace without the Seika?"

What's next?

Aizen turned to her. "We won't have to."

"I want this to end."

The Tennō searched for the Seika's eyes, for any lingering spark of hope left in the cold, dead eyes.

"Is there no other way?" he asked sadly, knowing the answer to his question already at the forefront of his mind and the defeated being in front of him.

"Erase the existence of my soul, Father, so I don't have to face this suffering any moment longer."

"So shall it be done," he whispered as he drew his hands apart and waved them slowly until a glimmering, green orb materialized in front of him.

He wavered, looking at the Seika who stood still with his eyes closed, ready to be whisked away into nothing when the chamber door slammed open with a resounding sound, a cringing crack was heard as one of the enormous doors broke apart from its hinges and fell with a loud thud.

"No."

"Byakuya," the Tennō paused, facing the angered creature stalking towards them as if a predator hunting for its prey. But even with the terrifying image that the raven created, the Tennō found himself smiling in relief.

Byakuya gripped the shoulders of a shocked redhead and pulled him close until they were breathing the same air.

"You are not running from this, Renji." You're not running away from me.

And so he kneeled down in front of his lieutenant for the second time in his life and kissed his feet.

Forgive me.

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Yeah... Byakuya is a fixer-upper, all right. And Renji... he's very out-of-character, isn't he? Time to beat him back into shape!

So I tried and tried and finally, I'm able to update within a week! A bit sad that I haven't even one review for the past two chapters though. Karma, I guess :'')

Um, just a bit of a head's up that I'm turning the rating up to M because I think, in my paranoid mind, the last chapter was pretty mature with the... dark themes and subtexts. If you catch my drift. I was hecking uncomfortable writing those parts down even though I made it as subtle and vague as possible, but you and I know that last chapter dealt with certain aspects of... violence. Of the not unsexual kind. Yeah. Sorry about that.

Please tell me your thoughts on this story. While I will try to continue writing it regardless, it would be nice to know if I've done things right, or if there are things that I should revise or do better in the future :)

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