Kuchiki Byakuya sat alone at his wooden desk as he carefully pored over the documents of his squad; the cup of steaming ocha that was prepared by his servant was left untouched as wisps of steam slowly swirled up into the still, silent air. He picked up his personal wooden stamp from the small cube of inked cushion and pressed it down on the paper when a sudden gust of wind blew in from the opened window.
Papers fluttered away from his desk like butterflies and as his long bangs swayed to one side, he caught something white from the corner of his eye.
It was a kite; their kite.
His eyes rested on the white plain kite for a while as it laid lifelessly on the tatami-covered floor among the strewn papers. Many thoughts went through his mind as his fingers rested on the slender wooden stamp, yet none of then registering long enough to make any sense to him. The red ink soaked through the thin rice paper like blood in water, but the usually observant rokuban-taichou did not notice any of this.
Byakuya got up from his chair, stepped over the documents silently in his white socks and picked up the kite by its delicate bamboo frame. "Byakuya-sama, this is..." Hisana looked at the kite that her lord was holding in his hands.
The corners of his mouth curled up a little, "The weather is good today, and the wind is not too strong"
She nodded her head and smiled to herself; it was rare that they had such personal time to themselves. "Yes. The clouds are pretty too"
He stopped in his tracks, turned his head around and quirked his right eyebrow up. She blushed a little at her silly comment; and was inwardly berating herself for not being able to say something more intelligent when his hand suddenly enveloped her small one. Hisana looked up at his left profile in surprise as the heat from his left hand warmed hers.
Byakuya held her gaze for a while and then he looked up into the soft blue sky.
"That one, looks like your backview."
His eyelids drooped a little as Hisana's smiling face appeared before his eyes. His fingers followed the outline of the bamboo frame and trailed down the thick string. A stinging sensation brought his focus back to the reality and he turned his hand over; there was now a long cut over his palm and a portion of the string was now blood-red.
"Ow!" Hisana held onto the string with her left and examined the right one; there was a small cut on her forefinger and her thumb.
Byakuya walked up to his wife, looked at her bleeding fingers and frowned slightly.
She lowered her head; perplexed to why the string had cut her and a little ashamed because he was frowning. "Sumimasen, I should not-"
Her words died in her throat as he closed his lips over the cuts and sucked on it gently. Hisana smiled; he was a stoic, strict and rigid person. Yet with her, it was as if he was another person, always very tolerant, gentle and mild-tempered.
His fingers pressed hard on her cuts as he took over the string with the other free hand, "Sumanai"
Her eyes widened and she shook her head; it was not his fault. He would always remain faultless in her eyes, ever.
Byakuya pulled the kite back a little, "Look, this part is covered with glass." Her lips parted slightly; not wondering why it was coated with glass.
"The string was dipped in boiled crushed glass and allowed to cool, which would be able to sever the strings of other kites if used in a competition. Only the lower part is not coated for handling purposes and I had forgotten to tell you"
She looked at her lord's eyes for a moment and leaned her head against his shoulders in silence. She thought to herself that the pain was worth it; to hear him explain things to her, to hear his apology, to see his concern for her. He remained standing there under the summer sun while the singing of grasshoppers and birds chimed in his ears.
After a while, Hisana straightened her back and bowed, "Byakuya-sama, please teach me how to fly a kite properly."
Byakuya closed his eyes; he could almost hear the grasshoppers and the birds, he could almost feel the heat of the sun, he could almost smell her light clean scent. He forced open his eyelids, tightened his grip over the glass-coated string as he strode over and slid open the shoji doors. He stepped out from his room and out into his personal garden. It was Hisana's favourite place, and he suspected that it was also some sort of her sanctuary. He would always see her petite figure, sitting on the grass quietly as she gazed at the flowers.
Did she always see my backview then? The way I always saw hers He asked himself, knowing that there would be no answer.
He looked up and a mass of soft pinks occupied his field of vision.
Byakuya realized that spring had come as the scent of the kawazu sakura infiltrated his nose. Blood continued to drip from his hand, staining the pale green grass with a sheen of red.
"I'm sorry to ask you of that at this last moment...I'm sorry that I couldn't return your love Byakuya-sama. These five years that I have spent with you, were like a dream to me Byakuya-sama."
He stared at his dying love as he held her in his arms. Her skin felt cold to him, even though she was wearing many thick layers; her lips were too pale, even though she had just drank a hot cup of ocha; her eyes were wet and smiling, and he could hear the approaching footsteps of Death through her coughs and wheezy breathing. For the first time in his life, Byakuya felt oddly useless, helpless and lost.
Hisana was dying, and there was no way he could stop it. He was a killer, never a healer. Byakuya closed his eyes, for fear that his tears might fall before her eyes and nodded his head.
Something soft landed on his head. He opened his dry eyes and stared at the offending object.
It was a sakura. His eyes softened, and he wondered what Hisana would say if she saw this sight. Would she laugh and dance under the kawazu sakura? Would she hold his hand and smile at the amazing display?
He knelt on one knee and picked up the fallen pink blossom, his blood staining the thin, soft petals and making it seem more white than pink.
I don't need you to return my love at all. Perhaps, perhaps I will see you again if I die, Hisana.
Glossary:
ocha: green tea
sumimasen/sumanai: sorry
kawazu sakura: the first sakura to bloom