Hello, and welcome to The Emperor Makes a Match, which takes place in a fantasy world rather unlike the original Bleach universe. This work was originally created for IchiRuki Month 2020 as a response to the day 17 prompt, Coronation.
The Emperor Makes a Match features the pairings of Ichigo/Rukia, Uryuu/Orihime, and Kyouraku Shunsui/Ukitake Juushiro. Additional relationships may occur as well.
As you can guess, I do not own Bleach and I am not making any money off of this work.
A Long Walk in the Dark
Ichigo remembers the day of his parents' coronation.
His grandfather, the thirteenth ruler of the Seireitei Empire, had ascended to the heavens at the relatively young age of seventy-five, and the entire empire had mourned for a year, as their customs dictated. While Ichigo's father, Isshin Kurosaki, had been privately named Emperor immediately, it was not until the end of that year of mourning that Isshin and his wife, Masaki, had a formal coronation.
Ichigo remembers the pomp of that day: how his father, dressed in robes of white silk lined in cloth of silver and gold, and wearing a heavy golden crown, joked about how it pressed his head down onto his neck. He remembers how his mother was so beautiful, with her sunset-colored hair wrapped in elaborate loops leading up to a tiara of ruby-encrusted gold. Her robes had been of white silk embroidered with flowers from every region of the Empire, to symbolize her loyalty and love for her land and its people.
Ichigo had been only eight at the time, but he remembers each detail of the ceremony so clearly. He remembers his father's solemn vow to lead the Empire of [Need Country Name] to greatness and be its spiritual guide. He remembers his mother's vow of loyalty and fidelity to her husband the emperor. He remembers the fireworks exploding in the air, shaped like blooming flowers and roaring dragons.
Ichigo remembers all of this, for it happened only twelve years ago. And soon it will happen again. Only – he will be wearing the robes of silk and the heavy crown.
"It will not be very long now, your Royal Highness," a low voice says in Ichigo's left ear.
He turns his head, and Toshiro Hitsugaya, the Emperor's advisor, is looking at him solemnly. "I know," he says quietly. "The healers say that the Emperor has only a few more days."
Sound rattles in his lungs as the Emperor struggles to breathe. He sleeps fitfully in a bed made warm with magic and has spoken little for the past week. The healers say it is a disease of the heart and lungs. The more fanciful women of the court say that the Emperor is going to the heavens to be with his wife, for they are soulmates and one cannot live without the other. They speak in admiring tones of the Emperor's strength to hold on for ten long years without the late Empress Masaki.
"Prince Ichigo, we must speak of what will happen after the Emperor's ascension," Hitsugaya insists quietly.
"Isn't that treason?" Ichigo asks, and there is a wry note in his voice, although the words come out rough and a little raw. "My father might recover."
Hitsugaya looks at the Emperor. "You have never been a dissembler. Don't start now." What he means is, we both know the healers are right and the emperor is beyond help.
A sigh leaves Ichigo's mouth, and he stands in a rustle of black linen. "No," he agrees. "But not here."
The palace has dozens and dozens of rooms, each more elaborately decorated than the last. Sometimes Ichigo thinks that the practice of housing members of the court at the palace must have started so that there were people to live in such a monstrosity of a building. They find a small meeting room, one of the less opulent spaces. Hitsugaya waits until Ichigo has sat down to join him.
The young advisor pulls a sheaf of papers from within his robes and slides them across the table to Ichigo, who glances down at them and then back up at Hitsugaya with a questioning look. "These are the succession papers and the funeral arrangements for Emperor Isshin," he explains. "He charged me with creating them when the healers told your father that he is dying."
It isn't the first time Ichigo has heard the words, but they still steal the breath from his lungs, and he stares at the paperwork blindly until Hitsugaya clears his throat. He takes a deep breath and begins to read.
The succession plan is straightforward: Ichigo will become the Emperor upon his father's death, as he is – has always been – the Crown Prince and heir to the throne. His younger sisters are twins, but Karin will become the Crown Princess as she was born first. Then Ichigo reads further into the paperwork and looks up at Hitsugaya.
"Is this legal?" he demands with a scowl on his face.
"The Emperor consulted the finest legal minds in the country," Hitsugaya assures. "The succession papers have been deemed legal and the spells surrounding them are binding."
"But the country will be in mourning for the next year," Ichigo growls. He leaves out, I will be mourning. My sisters are already devastated.
A flicker of sympathy shows on the other man's face. "I know. But it is the Emperor's decision."
Ichigo sags back in his chair and lets his head fall into his hands. "The court will be up in arms," he points out. "The entire country will be up in arms, once the story spreads beyond the palace."
At that, Hitsugaya snorts and waves a hand when Ichigo scowls at him fiercely. "The court will be busy maneuvering to find favor with you. And every man with an unmarried daughter and a courtesy title will be trying to get her in front of you. The daughters will be thrilled for the dispensation from wearing mourning silks."
Ichigo sighs heavily. "This is going to be a mess. I don't understand why my father is demanding I find a bride within the year. What happens if I don't? The country will be in crisis, Toshiro."
Hitsugaya mumbles under his breath. It sounds like, "It's Advisor Hitsugaya." But all he says out loud is, "Then we will make sure that you find a bride."
Ichigo scowls again and turns to the funeral plans: those at least look straightforward and elaborate enough for the ruler of an empire. "Have you and the other advisors started working on this?" he asks when he is finished reading.
"We cannot do so formally until your father's death. But we will be ready." Hitsugaya takes the papers back when Ichigo nudges them towards him and conceals them within his robes once more.
"I need a drink," Ichigo sighs.
"You don't drink, Prince Ichigo."
"Maybe I should start."
Emperor Isshin Kurosaki passes from the world two days later, one hand held tightly by each of his daughters. Ichigo kisses his father's forehead in goodbye and whispers to him, asking him to tell his mother that her children love her. Three healers are called in to confirm that the Emperor is dead. Ichigo lets Yuzu and Karin cling to him as they sob, and he buries his face in Karin's hair so that no one sees him cry.
Hands gently pull Yuzu and Karin from him; those same hands are careful not to touch him. Ichigo opens his eyes: Yuzu and Karin are being led away, still sobbing, by two of their ladies-in-waiting. The priest who performed the initial death rites for his father catches his eye, and Ichigo follows him. He knows that it's time.
Seireitei has ritual to fall back on in times of grief. No more than an hour after his father's death, Ichigo is doused in ice-cold water by the palace priest and his attendant. The water, he knows, has been purified and blessed – but it's still freezing. Before he can so much as gasp, there are rough towels rubbing the water off. He dresses in silence, donning long, flowing black pants and a snug-fitting shirt of the same fabric with long sleeves and a square neckline. His attendant drapes a robe of black silk over his shoulders and helps him step into a pair of slender boots – also black. Even his socks are knitted black wool.
The only color that Ichigo wears is his hair. It is the color of an orange sunset, like his mother's was, and falls well below his shoulders when unbound. An ordinary man would have his head shaved for mourning, but Ichigo is the Emperor now, and emperors do not shave their heads. He is tempted to rub ashes into his hair, the way the people of the northernmost city in the empire do, but emperors do not do that, either.
The attendant bows deeply and Ichigo follows the priest from his rooms. The hallway is dark; the lamps have all been put out. It will be like that everywhere in the palace, he knows; once the emperor died they would have been doused with a spell. There is only a small lantern held by a young acolyte. The acolyte leads the priest and Ichigo down darkened hallways until they reach the palace temple. The walk is silent and there is no sound save for the muffled thud of Ichigo's boots on the ground. He sees no one; even the guards are gone.
In stark contrast to the opulence of the palace, the temple is a spartan but tranquil space. There is a gateway in the hall that leads to the temple proper. Ichigo bows slowly and then breathes easier as they step over the threshold; there has always been something calming about this space, but this morning he feels embraced by the spiritual presence beyond the gate.
There is a basin to his right, and he dips the wooden ladle nearby into the water. Though he has just been cleansed, he pours the cold water on his hands and then into his mouth, rinsing and letting the water spill down into a drain on the floor. Then he steps forward and allows the acolyte and priest to lead him further inside.
Ichigo has been told what this ceremony entails. It is not a coronation; that will come a year from now when the country is no longer in mourning. He kneels when they reach the front of the room, facing an altar covered in white cloth. The acolyte holds the lantern high to illuminate the darkness and the priest prays silently over him. Fingertips brush his face, spreading sacred oil on his forehead.
"May the spirits watch over you. May they grant you the wisdom to do what is right as you lead our empire to ever higher achievement. May you be long-lived and bring continued stability to the empire. May you be comforted in your mourning by the knowledge that the Emperor Isshin Kurosaki has ascended to the heavens." The priest's voice is calm as he intones the words. There is incense in the air, something thick and heavily floral that makes Ichigo want to choke – or it might be the words doing that. He has known his entire life that this day would come, but he expected it to be when he was older, not just shy of twenty-one and with his sisters still children.
He stands when the priest tells him to and walks to the border of the shrine. Between the smoke from the incense and the guttering lantern that is the only source of light, Ichigo can barely see. But he has made this journey hundreds of times in twenty years, and his feet know where to stop. He bows, once, twice, to the shrine, and prays. Help me to make the right choices. His hands find those of the small statue, a place only the emperor or empress may touch. He pushes with his mind and power flows. The statue glows; faintly, at first, and then brilliantly, so that the priest and his acolyte must hide their eyes.
When the statue dims Ichigo strides from the temple, alone, with black fabric billowing behind him. As ritual dictates, the hallway is once again lit when he steps past the gateway. In the short time that he was inside, each doorway he passes has been draped in black fabric and a mourning symbol has been placed on it. There are guards stationed at intervals and they bow as he passes. Each man has tied a mourning band around his arm and hastily shorn his hair; Ichigo can see spots of blood where a razor was hastily or perhaps, clumsily, applied.
He reaches the offices of the emperor. That's you now, he reminds himself when he instinctively looks for his father. There is a throne room of course (actually, there are three), but this is where the actual work gets done.
His father's advisors, all eight of them, are waiting for him, with Hitsugaya at the head. Kyoraku is a step behind him and Ichigo's heart twists in sympathy; his father's closest advisor and friend of many years looks grief-stricken, with his robes in disarray, and only Ukitake to hold him up. Ukitake looks unsteady on his feet. None of them have shaved their heads, but then – advisors don't do that, either.
It occurs to Ichigo that these men are his advisors now, and he catches up to the thought just in time as all eight bow to him. "Rise," he says after a moment, and sits in his father's chair (his chair).
Hitsugaya is the first to come forward. "Your Imperial Highness," he begins. "Please accept our condolences on the death of your father."
Ichigo nods briefly and fortunately, Hitsugaya takes that as a signal not to belabor the condolences; Ichigo is sure either he or Advisor Kyoraku will start crying again if he does. "Thank you." His throat is tight and his voice choked.
"There are some urgent matters that require your attention, Sir," Ukitake says quietly. An aide rushes up and places a pile of paperwork in front of Ichigo; a second aide bustles over with a pot of ink and a pen. It is one of the newest inventions, Ichigo has been told; it isn't nearly as cumbersome as a quill or brush. A small lever draws ink up into the pen.
There are benches in his father's (his) office, and Ichigo gestures for the rest of his advisors to sit as he reads. The first page declares him the emperor; Ichigo signs that and an aide snatches it from his hand before the ink is fully dry. The second sheet announces Isshin's death and declares that the country is in mourning; Ichigo signs that as well and the same aide grabs it from him and runs from the room like she's being chased.
His facial expression must be telling, because Ukitake explains, "We are sending our fastest messengers with copies of both announcements throughout the empire."
Ichigo just reads the next set of papers. These are the funeral plans that Hitsugaya showed him two days ago. "How is my late mother being incorporated into the funeral?" he asks, and if his voice cracks, well, his father has only been gone for two hours.
"A special blessing will be said when your father's ashes are interred beside hers," Hitsugaya explains. "And her portrait will be displayed beside his during the procession."
Ichigo nods briefly and signs these papers, as well. The aide who takes them is a little less eager than the first was; this one at least waits until Ichigo has set the documents down. But he, too, runs like he is being pursued. With the funeral in just six days, Ichigo is not surprised.
The final set of papers are the succession plans, and Ichigo hides a groan. "Is there any way these can be changed?" he asks a little plaintively.
The men before him exchange looks and the most timid-looking of the lot – Hana-something, Ichigo thinks is his name – speaks up. "They are considered binding, Sir. The spells are very strong, as you know."
Hitsugaya gives him a look that Ichigo interprets as, I told you so.
"I see. Then we will reconvene to discuss this following my father's funeral," Ichigo decides. He looks them over. "Are there any other pressing matters that need my attention?" There are a few headshakes and no one speaks up, so he stands and they scramble off the benches as well. "I need to see to my sisters."
Ichigo sweeps from the office in his mourning robes and through the still-dim hallways to his sisters' rooms. They have practically the entire east wing for themselves and their respective entourages, so he has a fairly long walk to get there. As he leaves the central portion of the palace and enters theirs, the guards begin to change. Closest to his sisters' rooms the guards are women. Unlike some of the young noblemen he's overheard, Ichigo doesn't doubt their strength or skill; he has watched them practice.
In fact, he was beaten by one once, in a match when he was fifteen and a surly teenager. He doesn't see her here although he knows he would recognize her with a single look.
Ichigo shakes off that thought and catches the eye of one of the guards once they have all finished bowing to him. "Where are my sisters?" he asks.
"They are in Princess Yuzu's rooms, your Imperial Highness," one says, and Ichigo nods his thanks. He knocks on that door, and when it opens to admit him he is swarmed, with first one sister and then the other clinging to him.