Notes: I love how Byakuya loves Hisana. I love how Isshin loves Masaki. I love all these devoted men. So out came this one-shot.

Please Read and Enjoy!

Unbreakable Chain

The mist fell lightly, like a veil, upon the darkness of this chilly January night. The air was unusually heavy with moisture, something that he was not accustomed to, but did not particularly dislike. The park was deserted; the night probably too cold to be out and the warmth of home being too hard to give up. All was quiet, except for the distant peals of laughter that echoed from the nearby houses, which was a welcome change to the usual dead silence that came with the night, something that he had long grown familiar with.

His visits to the human realm had become frequent with Rukia's departure from Soul Society. She had boldly asked for the permission to leave, and seeing her unwavering resolution, he had pushed forward this considerably bodacious request to the board. Though it invited much controversy and dissension amongst all the people of the Seireitei, he was ultimately given the permission to proceed with his request, or perhaps more appropriately, his demand. It was not a comfortable decision per se, but as he watched Rukia, he had realized it was the right one. She looked much happier now, much happier than she had been for a long time. The contentment he now observed in her was something he could have never given her.

The night before, Rukia had missed the customary New Year's dinner with the Kuchiki family as she had fallen ill. Kurosaki had sent him a message, telling him that it was just common cold and there was nothing for him to worry about. It was not that he did not trust what the boy had told him, but he much preferred being convinced by seeing her himself. He hurried his steps a little, wanting to see Rukia soon, so that he could ascertain with his own eyes that she was truly all right.

Approaching from a distance, was the soft scrap of metal against metal, a sound that he recognized to be coming from the chains of a spirit that had yet to be sent. It was not uncommon for him to encounter such spirits due to his regular visits, but he had never given them much attention. It had been many years since he performed his last soul burial, as he had seen no necessity for him to lower himself to do the jobs of the common shinigami. He was certain that someone would be coming for her soon.

The sound grew quiet and disappeared. Glancing over the area where the sound had ceased, he saw that the spirit had taken her repose on a bench. With a strange, all-encompassing tranquility surrounding her, she sat fully poised, with her hands clasped neatly on her laps, seemingly gazing at nothing in particular. It was nearly idyllic, like she had been waiting for death and was now quiescently expecting to be taken away. Apparently noticing his presence, she turned towards his direction, moving her face out of the shadow.

He stopped.

She was a slender lady, dressed in an elegant traditional cherry-colored kimono, its fine silk cloth intricately embroidered with white sakura along the hems. Contrasting peculiarly with her exquisite clothes was her unstyled long ebony hair, which was hanging wildly down to her mid-back, giving her a nearly disheveled look. She was a beautiful lady with a quiet strength in her delicate features. Her jaw line was strong despite her frail appearance. The fine lines on her pale face revealed the years of laughter and tears she had endured while she was alive. Her eyes were nearly as dark as her hair, but with a tinge of indigo, and there was weariness reflected in those gentle eyes. Though her face belied her actual age, her hands showed that she was around her forties or fifties.

No, he knew.

She had to be exactly fifty-two years old. He knew, because she had been gone from his life for fifty-two long years. Fifty-two years was perhaps not long by Soul Society's gauge of time, but it was long, indefinitely long, when one had to spend it in endless solitude.

For a brief moment,a fissure in space seemed to have caused a sudden, impossible retard in time, slowing and magnifying every movement made, as his eyes transfixed on her. And he watched how her jet black hair fell from behind her ear to rest in-between her eyes, the ends of her fringe ending nearly at the corner of her mouth and fluttering lightly against her skin. And how her eyes widened slightly, revealing a little more of her dark pupils, making her seem somewhat less drained. And how her thin lips parted a little, nearly like she was going to speak, except that no words escaped her.

Perhaps she was surprised he could see her.

He forced himself to look away from her. He was aware that he was not living in some child's fairytale, in which he would one day meet the beloved he had lost and they would return to their beautiful life once again. It was not the way things worked. Be it in life or in death, things never worked that way. She looked like her, but she might not be her. Even if she was her, she would not remember. And the thought of her not remembering was more painful than the thought of her not being the one he wanted her to be. He did not wish to stand there and watch her speak to him like a stranger. He could not see her as just another stranger. He could not see her as just another spirit. He could not see her as just another part of his job.

Abruptly, he started to continue on his way, wanting to just leave her behind and forget that he had just met her. He did not want to reopen old wounds that had never really healed. He knew that the past, the present and the future had no overlap. When one transited from death to rebirth, what was meant to be forgotten, would be forgotten. It was the rules of the world. For her, he had broken rules before, rules that should never be broken. But there were rules that he could not break, could never be able to break, regardless of what he did. No matter how much she looked like her, no matter how possible she really was her, no matter how much he wished she was her, he knew. She would not be the same woman he loved. And still loves.

"Byakuya-sama?"

He froze.

He heard the soft rustle of her kimono as she stood up. And the light taps of her sandals against the paved ground as she moved towards him. He was afraid, terrified even, that it might just be a crazy nightmare that he did not realize he was in. A nightmare, because with every dream of her, and with each time he woke up, a little more of him would die inside. A nightmare, because each time he was sent crashing back into reality, he would lose a little more of whatever will was left to get up. A nightmare, because this time, it was too lucid, too beautiful, for him to wake up from. He did not wish to wake up once again, to languish in the memories of her.

"Byakuya-sama?" Her trembling voice was so full of trepidation, yet at the same time, it seemed to be brimming over with suppressed excitement and euphoria.

He could not make himself speak. The words were choked up within him. He did not know what to say. This woman… she was calling his name. She was calling his name just like the woman he loved always called his name. And that woman, whom he thought would never return to him again, was standing right here, calling his name with the sort of reverent intimacy he remembered much too well.

"Byaku…"

"Hisana…" He had not realized he had spoken, he had not even realized that he had turned to face her. Her name felt strange upon his tongue, like he was uttering a much too private, much too sacred name. His voice was so faint, so hesitant and so frightened; it seemed to have belonged to someone else. But he knew it was his voice, because immediately, her tears welled up.

"Byakuya-sama…"

She seemed like she was going to collapse from her relief, and instinctively, his hands reached out to hold her by the arms, with the tenderness he had always used on the only woman he had ever loved. He had held her many times in his arms while they were married. He had held her when she cried. He had held her when she fell. He had held her when she was in poor health. He had held her many times indeed, but never had he held her with so much unspoken emotions, with so many feelings that he did not even know he had. It felt too surreal and he was afraid if he closed his eyes for just a second, it would all shatter back to the harsh truth he had to live with for the past fifty-two years.

"Is it really you, Byakuya-sama?"

He was the one who wanted to ask her that question.

"I waited… all these years… for the day that Byakuya-sama will come…"

"You shouldn't… remember." He was still unable to fathom the possibility that this was really Hisana, his Hisana.

"Hisana remembers. People thought I was crazy, and sometimes, I thought I was crazy, but I believed in those memories, in those feelings, in the love that Byakuya-sama had so selflessly bestowed upon Hisana. So I waited and waited… till death finally came…"

"Is it really you, Hisana?" He whispered the question, afraid that he would appear like a fool; that somehow this was just an overblown joke someone was playing on him.

"Of course, Byakuya-sama. Hisana's now… Byakuya-sama still looks the same after all these years… But Hisana is now old… unworthy… the years have not been kind on this body…" Suddenly, she seemed overly conscious of how her rough hands compared to his unchanged smooth and young ones. She quickly lowered her hands, hiding them in the shadow of her own body. She looked away, like she was ashamed of herself.

"You look exactly the same, Hisana." He enclosed her hands cautiously in one hand, and with the other, he touched the back of her ear gingerly, brushing her so lightly that he nearly was not. The way she spoke, the way she acted, the way she felt… it was her. He could no longer remember how long it had been since he had spoken her name in this manner. Spoken not like a memory, but spoken because she was right there. He felt a smile coming onto his face. "I found her."

She looked up, intuitively knowing who he was talking about. The tears came uncontrollably once more as both her hands reached up to cover her mouth and nose, trying to stifle the sobs.

He finally did smile, as he pulled her quietly into his arms to calm her. "She's grown into a fine young lady."

"Thank you, Byakuya-sama, thank you…"

"I promised."

"All these years, I thought that Byakuya-sama might forget…"

"Never. Through the years, it was always for you. I was always waiting for you."

"Hisana was afraid that Byakuya-sama would find someone else. I wanted Byakuya-sama to find someone else but at the same time… I didn't… I'm so willful… Hisana has always been so willful…"

"You're not." He looked down and pushed the hair away from her face, his thumb lightly wiping the tears away from her cheeks. "Come home."

She understood his meaning. She gave a nearly indiscernible nod as her hands reached up and lightly touched his face with her fingertips. He was no longer breathing as he leaned down, so close to her, till he could feel her breath against his skin. Then his lips lightly brushed against the lashes of her closed eyes and moved slowly down, barely touching her cheeks, before they were finally upon her mouth. Her hands trembled as she tip-toed and tentatively pulled him in, pressing a little harder against him, eager to feel him all over again. His slender fingers curled around her hand, and tightened, holding her securely in his grasp. The feel of her lips were still familiar to him, the perfect fit of her hand in his was exactly how he remembered, and the warmth of her skin upon his skin held the unforgotten memories of their love.

Their lips parted, with a tang of warm saltiness upon his tongue. With an affectionate smile, she dried his tears with her own hand.

He had not realized the tears were from him.

He had never given himself the liberty to cry in front of her, not even when he had sat by her side day after day and watched helplessly as she faded away right before him. It was a sorrow that he had to hide for the sake of the woman he loved so dearly. His last tears had fallen, when she breathed her last breath, with the final loving whisper of his name. Since then, his eyes had always been dry, no matter how much he was bleeding inside.

Today, the tears finally came again, but they were no longer of sadness and no longer of grief.

Fate had dealt him a cruel hand, giving him Hisana, then taking her away much too soon. But fate, in its inexplicable ways, had returned her to him, perfect in her form, like she had never left. Fate was gracious.

He removed his scarf and wrapped it around her.

"I'll look for you."

She smiled at his words, and with both her hands, she took his free hand and brought it close to her chest.

"I'll be waiting."

He returned her loving smile with equal tenderness, and with the last reassuring squeeze of her hands, he drew out his sword and brought the hilt of his sword gently upon her forehead.

- End -

Post-Chapter Notes:

And I assumed that when one dies in Soul Society, he is immediately reborn into the human world, with the exact same features. Logically, it may not make sense, but it has to, for my story to make sense. However, one's reiatsu changes, which is why Byakuya didn't recognise Hisana's reiatsu.

Don't worry, Hisana will visit Rukia after Byakuya receives her back into the family. : )
Umm... this is a one-shot. So I'm not going to write about their reunification. That's for all of you to imagine.

I hope all of you who read this likes it. Thank you for reading! All of you mean a lot to me.

P.S. I do not read english scanlations, but I would translate Hisana's words to Byakuya as closer to(after much scrutinisation on the original Japanese of course), "I am unable to repay the love that Byakuya-sama has given me..."

I thought it to be just Hisana's really humble way of saying "You have given me too much, much more than I can ever return you." So I always thought of that sentence in a very loving way. Especially with her saying it has been like a dream and calling his name with tears in her eyes... I couldn't help but feel that she loved him.

If you notice, there was this sentence in my chapter that said something like, "...the love that you have bestowed upon me..." I took that exact sentence that people believed Hisana is saying that she don't love him to something really positive on my side!

So yes, I believe Hisana and Byakuya loved each other dearly.