Renji hunched over his desk, trying to finish up all of the week's paperwork that would require Byakuya's signature. He didn't mind putting in a little extra elbow grease up front. The fact was, a lot of Squad Six office work was, by Gotei standards, not strictly necessary. The captain just liked to be… thorough. Weeks when Byakuya was busy with other things and left Ol' Vice-Captain Abarai to man the helm generally tended to be a little more… relaxing for everyone.

Renji's ears twitched. There was a dip in the ambient reiatsu, the way waves pulled away from the shore before a tsunami. Was the Captains' Meeting over early? Byakuya was normally perfectly capable of controlling his gargantuan, brain-melting reiatsu, unless he was super pissed- which could go hand-in-hand with an early ending to the Captains' Meeting- no, no, no, there was no place to dive for cover- Renji blinked as the tsunami bore down upon him. It wasn't Byakuya at all. The size had fooled him at first, and it was sort of similar, but the bouquet was completely different. It lacked that ominous precursor spike, like a breeze sweeping through a cherry orchard-

The shoji slammed open.

"Are you hiding in here, Grandson?" boomed a deep voice, even deeper than Byakuya's.

Renji hurled his brush into its tray and shot straight from sitting into a deep, standing bow. He didn't even splatter any ink on his forms. That maneuver was one of the many things he had learned in his tenure at Squad Six. "Captain Kuchiki is in a Captains' Meeting at the First Division!" he barked. "It'll be over at 11! Welcome to the Seireitei, Captain Kuchiki! I hope you had a good journey!"

There was a long pause, at last followed by a curious "At ease, soldier."

Renji straightened up.

Kuchiki Ginrei was the same height as his grandson and the same build. His hair, though white, had the same silky etherealness. His jaw was a little squarer and his face was lined, but the same steely grey eyes scanned over Renji, judging, finding him wanting. "Who are you?" Ginrei demanded.

Renji was not the same young man who had reported for duty a year before, trying to hide his nerves under a veneer of cockiness. No, he had seen Byakuya pull this act a hundred times on butt-kissing subordinates and fawning nobles alike. The rules to this game weren't very hard. You just had to stick to them, no matter what.

"Abarai Renji, Sixth Company Assistant Captain," he announced and stood with perfect posture until addressed again.

"Ahhh… yes," Ginrei said slowly. "My grandson said he'd managed to lose Shirogane. Good man, Shirogane." He walked into the office slowly, his eyes scanning the room. "I hear you're a punk."

"Sir, yes, sir, but only during my Leisure Hours," Renji replied, continuing to stare dead forward.

There was a stampede of feet from across the hall, and Kuchiki and Ohno were suddenly jostling to get through the doorway at the same time.

"Hi, Great-Uncle Ginrei!" Kuchiki shouted.

"Greetings, Lord Kuchiki!" Ohno elbowed him out of the way. "Welcome back to the Sixth, Lord Kuchiki! Do you wish a cup of tea?"

"Did Assistant Captain offer you tea? Don't drink it if he did!"

"Ohno! Kuchiki!" Renji chastised. "Do you think this is a holiday? You're both supposed to be running warm-up drills for the seated officers in ten minutes! We honor our guests in Squad Six, but that does not excuse stoppages of work! Especially not when our guests are three hours ahead of schedule! Now get outta here! I will see both of you in the yard in half an hour!"

Kuchiki huffed before straightening his posture and arranging his face into a more soldierly mien. "Yes, sir! Sorry, sir! See you in a bit, Great-Uncle! Glad you made it!"

Ohno shot a glare at Kuchiki and then straightened up as well. "Of course, sir!"

Ginrei was pretending to look at the bookcases, but he turned his face slightly. "Seated officer drills, eh?"

"Would you care to observe, sir?" Renji asked, keeping his voice absolutely neutral.

Kuchiki and Ohno froze in the doorway.

"Any chances of mustering the full company?" Ginrei replied coolly.

Renji nodded at his Third and Fourth Seat. "You heard the man. Go round up the troops."

"But, sir, our drill plans-"

"It's warm-ups, Ohno, just pull something out of the drill binder. I'm the one who runs the actual drills and you don't see me complaining."

Ohno hated the drill binder. When it came to training, Renji was a great fan of familiarity, of repetition, of progressive variations on a known theme. Renji didn't even need the drill binder- it was basically a dump of things that were floating around Renji's brain at all times, which he had written down for the benefit of the other seated officers.

It was always custom, bespoke drills with Ohno. He probably spent as much time deciding what exercises he wanted to do as actually doing exercises. Renji had told him many times that this was why he would never have good delts. Ohno refused to believe him. Ohno continued to have pitiful delts.

Kuchiki promptly skedaddled, but Ohno hovered in the doorway. He was probably afraid that Renji was going to trash talk his delts in front of Granddad or challenge the old guy to an arm wrestling competition or do something else embarrassing like start listing off bars with good Wednesday drink specials.

"Lord Kuchiki, on behalf of the Ohno Family, we hope you have a joyful visit and if there is anything you require-"

"If there is anything I require, I know how to get it," Ginrei replied in a low rumble. "I believe your assistant captain just gave you an order."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Ohno yelped and disappeared in a squeak of floor wax.

There was a long silence.

"Would you like some tea, sir?" Renji finally asked.

Ginrei narrowed his eyes. "I think not. I would like a peek around the old place, see what's changed. I don't suppose you have time to give me a tour, Lieutenant?"

Renji took a split second to consider his forms, but he suspected Byakuya wasn't going to have any time to sign them today in any case. "It would be my pleasure, sir."


When Byakuya emerged from the captains' meeting, a patiently waiting Hell Butterfly fluttered up from a nearby bush and alighted on his finger. The voice of his adjutant echoed in his head. "Hey, sir, hate to tell you this, but he was early."

Byakuya said an extremely dirty word (it was "curses"), startling Captain Hitsugaya thoroughly, and flash-stepped back toward his division.

It was worse than he expected.

Ginrei had every shinigami in the company lined up in the training yard, and was shouting them through various sword forms. Renji stood off to the side, looking thoroughly amused, and gently correcting the form of some of the younger officers in the back lines from time to time.

"Abarai!" Byakuya hissed.

Renji sauntered over.

"Are you letting my grandfather run drills?"

"He wanted to."

"You cannot just let him do whatever he wants!"

"He's just running the drills I was gonna run. Figured there were a lot worse things he could be getting into. He sure looks like he's having fun."

Ginrei smacked Fifth Seat Kuchiki on the foot with his practice sword and yelled something at him. Then he glanced up, and a pleased smile spread over his face. "Lieutenant Abarai, take over for me!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Renji barked.

"Abarai!" Byakuya hissed.

"Eh?"

"When you have a moment, can you please Text Message Rukia and let her know… the state of things?"

"Already done, sir. She said she had to wait for her captain to get back from the meeting, and then she was gonna head for home to wrangle the rest of them so you could deal with Captain Kuchiki. Is that okay?"

Byakuya nodded and gave a small sigh of relief. "Go."

Renji dashed over, relieved Ginrei of the practice sword, and promptly whacked Fifth Seat Kuchiki on the other foot with it.

"My ungrateful grandson has finally found time within his taxing schedule to welcome me!" Byakuya's grandfather announced as he strode over.

"You were due to arrive at two," Byakuya stated coolly. "At the Manor. Rukia and I both arranged half-days. It is eleven."

"We made good time," Ginrei explained flippantly. "And we did stop by the Manor, I left everyone else back there. I wanted to see how the old division was making out, and what's the sense in stopping by when you were expecting me?"

Byakuya's eye twitched. "And… how did you find it?"

"Running surprisingly ship-shape in the absence of its captain!"

"I was not absent. I was in a captain's meeting. It was an hour."

"By gaw, I do like that new adjutant of yours."

Byakuya blinked. "You… what?"

They both looked over at where Renji was criticizing the Eighth Seat by wobbling his elbow so that he lost his grip on his sword, bobbling it wildly.

"You wrote me a ten page, strongly worded letter when I hired him," Byakuya frowned. "As though the Gotei were overflowing with literally anyone else who had passed the lieutenant's exam at the time."

"Well, that was then. You've got him now, and I like the cut of his jib. He showed me around while Genryuusai was wasting your time. The division is looking very modern. I was impressed by the new weight room."

Byakuya felt a headache coming on. "The weight room is entirely his domain, I have never set foot in it."

"Speaking of Genryuusai, we're going to lunch with him."

"He won't come, he's gotten very particular in his advanced age."

"I've already arranged it, Grandson. He says there's a new-fangled curry place near his barracks that we should try! Have you ever had curry?"

Byakuya twitched again. His grandfather was still convinced that curry was some sort of new and fashionable food. He and the Head-Captain both would have a heart attack if they came within a spirit mile of anything with any actual spice to it. "I packed my lunch," Byakuya blurted out stupidly. "And how did you 'arrange it'? I was just in a meeting with the Head Captain, and he said nothing."

"I Text Messaged him!" Ginrei replied proudly. "On my Spirit Phone!"

"You do not have a Spirit Phone!" Byakuya snapped. "They are for teenagers and hooligans!"

"I do!" Ginrei hooted back. "Shizue has been teaching me to use it."

"Shizue is an infant!" Byakuya replied, horrified. The last time Byakuya had seen her, she had attempted to make him participate in a tea party for her dollies. Her efforts had not met with success.

"Shizue is of marriageable age now," Ginrei announced proudly. "Nearly as tall as you are. I've been thinking that she might enjoy a tour of the Division, nudge, nudge, wink, wink."

"Why… why would you say 'nudge, nudge, wink, wink'?" Byakuya frowned. Ginrei had said something in his letter about "entering society", which Byakuya had taken to mean she would want to go to the theater. Now that his Grandfather was here, winking at him, Byakuya remembered that many people of Shizue's age were deeply preoccupied with netting themselves the best possible marriage arrangement. Byakuya had found that stage of his life extremely tedious and tried to think of it as little as possible. He contemplated the Eligible Bachelors of Squad Six, and cringed internally. This would require delicacy. The prospect of an eligible Kuchiki was sure to throw the branch families into an absolute froth. "Never mind. I'll arrange something."

"There's a good boy," Ginrei appraised, setting Byakuya's teeth grinding. "Let's be off, then, I'm starving."

"You just lambasted me for neglecting my squad," Byakuya pointed out.

Ginrei waved a hand. "Abarai has it under control." He waved. "Lieutenant! My indolent grandson and I are taking a long lunch! Hold down the fort, will you?"

"Yes, sir!" Abarai shouted back, from where he appeared to either be adjusting Twelfth Seat Gotou's posture or putting her in a half-Nelson. "Have a great time!"


"Welcome home, Lady Rukia!" There was a slight edge of desperation to the footman's usual greeting.

Standing next to him, looking grim, was Rukia's lady's maid, Mikan.

Prior to coming to work for Rukia a few months previous, Mikan had worked for an elderly noblewoman. The girl's skill set involved remembering where people had put things down, having an encyclopedic knowledge of desserts that were popular 200 years ago, and moving cats from place to place. Rukia didn't have a whole lot of use for any of these things, but that was okay, because Mikan was keen to learn.

Rukia didn't even slow down as Mikan fell in step behind her.

"Lord Kuchiki was here for all of ten minutes," she reported. "He announced that he refuses to stay in the Camellia Guest Suite, he wants to stay in his old room."

"The place where dust goes to collect dust?"

"Right! Mr. Nobutsune's having it cleaned out frantically. Lord Kuchiki breezed out after that, leaving Ms. Fukuda in charge, which is causing a bit of heartburn, because Ms. Fukuda thinks that puts her in charge of Mr. Nobutsune, but Mr. Nobutsune disagrees."

"Oh my!" Rukia noted. "Ms. Fukuda is pretty scary, huh?"

"Terrifying!" Mikan replied cheerfully. "I like her, though, please don't tell Mr. Nobutsune! She has very pointy glasses! After that, she tried to kick Chef Ohori out of the kitchen, because apparently Lord Kuchiki will only eat things prepared by his own chef."

"I can only imagine how Chef Ohori took that."

"He's barricaded himself in the kitchen."

"Oho!" A huge grin split Rukia's face. One one hand, this was all, somehow, her problem. On the other hand, she didn't exactly have any personal stake in this, and obviously, this was the most exciting thing to happen at dull old Kuchiki Manor in ages. She was Byakuya's sister now, in heart as well as in name. She was a lieutenant now. She was going to take care of this. Rukia rubbed her hands together. "Anything else?"

"Great-Aunt Tsukasa has fallen asleep in the parlor, Miss Shizue has tried to escape at least three times (Guard Captain Kamata keeps catching her), and Mr. Sugita is doing shirtless calisthenics in the garden. I am not sure if there is to be lunch."

"Who is Mr. Sugita?" Rukia gasped, managing to swallow the words "Is he hot?"

"My understanding is that he is Lord Kuchiki's tennis instructor."

Rukia skidded to a halt, and stared at Mikan. Mikan stared at Rukia.

"Is he hot?" Rukia blurted out at the same time Mikan sputtered out "He's incredibly hot."

Rukia nodded her head thoughtfully, and cracked her knuckles. "I will take care of Chef Ohori. A Kuchiki does not skip lunch."

Mikan nodded eagerly, eyes bright. "I believe in you, Lady Rukia!"


Byakuya stared at the worst curry had ever eaten in his life. It did not deserve to be called curry. It was a disgrace.

Grandfather was very, very old, and tended to think things were new and trendy decades after they had gone stale and fusty. This curry shop was no exception. He and the Head Captain seemed to be enjoying themselves greatly, exclaiming over the "exotic flavors" and exchanging Tales of Yore, In Which Ginrei and Genryuusai Left Their Enemies Beaten and Humiliated, all of which Byakuya had heard at least a hundred times. Occasionally, they would ask Byakuya's opinion on what he would have done in a similar situation, you know, given his rank inexperience and meager skills. They would get bored halfway through his answer and start up on some other story.

Sasakibe was here, too, but he wasn't much help. All he wanted to talk about was how the English Curry was superior to the Japanese Curry, and the old men would start talking over him even more quickly than they did over Byakuya.

Suddenly, a familiar gravelly drawl rang out across the quiet of the nearly empty restaurant.

"Why, Juushirou, look who it is!"

"My stars, I heard he was in town, but imagine the luck!"

Byakuya snapped out of his funk as two of his fellow captains cheerfully approached their table.

"Genryuusai, are those your boys, I see?" Ginrei rumbled. "I heard they tried to get the better of you recently."

"That's right!" Yamamoto boomed. "The best of a sorry lot, these two! I beat them soundly, though, they're still hardly a match for their old master."

"Ha ha, yes, that's definitely what happened," Kyouraku agreed, pulling up a chair. "What's good here?"

"Nothing," Byakuya muttered.

"You boys have changed so much!" Ginrei exclaimed. "Juushirou, you look terrible!"

"Well, my health has its ups and downs, you know," Ukitake replied mildly. "I just got an excellent new vice-captain, though, which should allow me to get some rest."

"Ah, good help can be such a balm! You get a big, strapping, competent fellow like my grandson has? Must be a delight, I would think, rather than a back-talking youngster."

"He is referring to your granddaughter, Grandfather," Byakuya snapped. "That's the entire reason you're here, do you remember? To celebrate Rukia being appointed Vice-Captain of the Thirteenth?"

"Right, I forgot! Goodness, that timid little slip of a thing? I imagine she's a fair hand at paperwork?"

"She's come out of her shell quite a bit, recently," Ukitake replied off-handedly.

"I blame that Substitute Shinigami," Yamamoto jerked his chin at Ukitake. "Very disruptive youth."

Ukitake nodded noncommittally. "As far as Rukia goes, he only brought forth what was already there. I suspect she deserves at least as much blame for him as he does for her. In fact, I think she deserves more credit than she gets for him, actually. That was an awful lot of power and responsibility on the shoulders of a very young human, and I shudder to think what would have happened if he hadn't had her level head steering him in the right direction."

"Young man will do a lot for a pretty face," Ginrei nodded his head indulgently.

Byakuya blinked, more surprised at the compliment than the sexism. His grandfather had always been highly critical of Hisana's appearance. The sexism was old hat.

"Mostly, I think she kicked him in the face a lot," Ukitake corrected breezily. "Byakuya, you should see her running drills! I knew she was tough, but I didn't expect what a battleaxe she would turn out to be!"

"A Kuchiki commands respect," Byakuya replied mildly, feeling a not-unpleasant swelling sensation in his chest.

"She killed an Espada, too," the Head Captain pointed out. "Took two of you to kill an Espada."

"My understanding was that hers was quite ugly," Kyouraku pointed out. "Ours was very cute, you see." He didn't bother to point out that Rukia had killed the 9th Espada while he and Ukitake had taken on the 1st.

"I myself killed two Espada," Byakuya noted, very generously counting the one that had expired somewhere in the course of he and Zaraki's fight, although it was unclear who had actually struck the finishing blow. No one appeared to hear him anyway.

"Read about that to-do in the Bulletin," Ginrei grunted. "Overblown, I imagine. The Bulletin's always gilding the lily. Nothing like what we used to go through, eh Genryuusai?"

"No, that disgrace Aizen gave us a real challenge," Yamamoto frowned. "Really worth getting out of bed for, for once. Wish you could have been there, of course, to help me coddle those infants I've got…"

The conversation then turned into a recap of the Winter War. Byakuya couldn't remember his grandfather ever being much of an active listener, but he seemed quite interested in the story, putting in an amused snort or approving nod at appropriate moments. Byakuya himself even got to contribute a bit, regarding the assault on Hueco Mundo. Oddly enough, whenever Ginrei appeared to be getting wound up for a bit of Grandson Criticism, Ukitake or Kyouraku, who were usually all too ready to make jokes at his expense, would steer the conversation back to some distracting sidebar.

As lunch wore down, Byakuya sternly suggested, "Are you ready to return to the Manor, Grandfather? I'm sure the Head Captain has a very busy schedule this afternoon."

"How is Yachiru doing?" Gensai asked casually, seemingly not paying any attention to Byakuya. "Surely no one's managed to kill her, yet."

"She's still going by Retsu," Yamamoto corrected. "She's got her little healing division. I don't tell her what to do and she stays out of my business. Mostly."

Byakuya frowned. Was his grandfather referring to Captain Unohana?

"I have some appointments around town this afternoon, but I might drop in on her," Ginrei hemmed.

Appointments?

"I wouldn't," Kyouraku put in.

"She hates that," Ukitake added.

"Oh, I'm sure she's used to this fellow here swinging by every time he gets a scratch on his little nose," Ginrei pooh-poohed, gesturing toward Byakuya.

"Grandfather," Byakuya glowered. "You have left a great number of people unsupervised in my home."

"Oh, they'll make themselves comfortable!" Ginrei reassured him unreassuringly.

Byakuya clenched his fists under the table, when he felt a light nudge.

"Rukia says everything is going well at the manor," Ukitake whispered in his ear.

Byakuya blinked. "How would you know?"

"Abarai added me to the group text."

Byakuya's eye twitched. "The what?"


"Negotiations concluded," Rukia announced smugly, as a flurry of servants hurried to put lunch on the table. In typical Chef Ohari fashion, everything was already made, he was just refusing to release it until he got his way.

"Thank you, Lady Rukia," Seike whispered to her. "I would have taken care of it, you know."

"Oh, you've got a lot going on," Rukia replied sweetly.

"What… er, accords did you reach?" Seike frowned.

"Well, according to Chef Yukimasa, Grandfather is on a special diet these days, and refuses to eat anything that isn't according to his specifications," Rukia explained. "So I told Chef Ohari to take care of lunch for today, since Grandfather isn't even here, and then he can just concentrate on organizing and preparing the party on Saturday, and Chef Yukimasa will take care of all the meals between now and then."

Seike looked deeply uncomfortable. "Your brother prefers his meals to be prepared by his own chef."

"Brother has problems coming out his ears this week," Rukia pointed out. "I think he would rather eat weird salads for a few days than have to listen for one single second about the tiff his chef is having with Grandfather's chef."

Seike did not look convinced.

"I'll break the news to him," Rukia assured Seike brightly. "Can you go muster people? I'm starving."

"Of course, Lady Rukia," Seike sighed, looking at least 100 years older than he had looked the day before.

A few minutes later, Rukia found herself sitting in Byakuya's usual seat, with her guests across from her. Aunt Tsukasa sat in front of the tokonoma, with Cousin Shizue to her left. Sugita, the tennis instructor, was here, too, which confused Rukia a little, because she would have thought he would be off with the other servants, but she wasn't even sure why he was here at all, so she was just going along with it. Mikan hadn't been wrong- he was nice to look at, with golden blonde hair that cascaded down to his impressive shoulders, and eyes that Rukia wasn't sure were a real shade of blue.

"How was the journey, Aunt?" Rukia asked politely.

"This is good pickle," Aunt Tsukasa mumbled.

"Ah, yes, this is one of my favorites," Rukia announced, always happy to talk about pickle provenance. "It's not one of our home recipes, although Chef Ohari makes excellent pickles. This one comes from a shop down in the Market District that, according to a pickle-making friend of mine, uses a very unique bran bath-"

"She can't hear you," Cousin Shizue pointed out dryly. She couldn't be even half Rukia's age, but was clearly trying to look older than she was. She was tall, and had most of the Kuchiki standard features- the long, silky, dark hair, the patrician nose, the heavy eyelids. Her eyes were pale blue, though, instead of grey. She wore a lot of makeup, and her kimono was very fine, but a few seasons out of style. "How far away is the Market District? Could we go there after lunch?"

"Not far at all," Rukia replied. "I'm happy to take you after Brother and Grandfather get home."

Shizue made a face. "They're not going to be home any time soon. Grandfather had a whole laundry list of people he wanted to visit."

Rukia tried to subtly check her phone. Byakuya had banned phones at meals, but he wasn't here, was he? "I thought they were just going to lunch."

Captain Ukitake had sent her a picture of a doleful Byakuya suffering through that terrible curry place up near the 1st Division. Rukia frowned in sympathy and then took a moment to wonder how Captain Ukitake had gotten on the Protect Captain Kuchiki At All Costs! Group Text. Did Renji have his number? Why did Renji have her captain's number?

"Grandfather probably just told him that," Shizue supplied. "He says Cousin Byakuya is a bit of a mark. Anyway, I'm sure we could be out and back and no one would even notice we were gone."

From the corner of the room, Seike was shaking his head frantically.

"Oh, I'm afraid I'm needed here this afternoon, if Brother is going to be out," Rukia replied vaguely. "I'll make sure you get a chance to go eventually. The Market District is much livelier on weekends, anyway! There are lots of fun things to do here at the Manor, though."

"Are there," Shizue echoed, her question lacking any inflection that would indicate it was, in fact, a question.

"Do you have any weights?" Sugita asked, making a motion like he was doing a bicep curl. "You know, for lifting?" He had a voice like warm honey.

Shizue slumped in her seat. "Don't make me lift, Coach Jukou."

"I have a few hand weights," Rukia offered hesitantly. "Brother believes that sword exercises are the best way to build strength."

"I don't do swords," Sugita waved a hand dismissively. "I'll have to figure out a way to improvise. Shizue, if you want to dominate at the Masumizuumi Young Lady's Classic next month, you can't skip leg day."

Lady Shizue looked like she would rather eat a live toad than dominate at the Masumizuumi Young Lady's Classic.

"Brother's squad maintains a very fancy weight room," Rukia said, trying to keep from laughing. "I'm sure something can be worked out. I'm sorry, I thought you were Grandfather's tennis instructor…?"

"Well, Shizue is a tennis prodigy, you know?" Sugita pointed out. "So Ginrei hired me as her personal coach and trainer, but then he decided he wanted to up his game, too. He's been playing seriously for a few years now. For a dude his age, he's in fantastic shape."

Rukia stared at him, half entranced by his amazing jawline, and half trying to process that he had just referred to her eminent grandfather both by his first name and as "a dude."

"I was a little surprised," Sugita added, "that you don't have tennis courts here. Do you play, Rukia?"

"Lady Rukia," Shizue hissed at him. "You clod."

If Sugita heard her, he pretended not to.

"I play a little," Rukia replied. "Brother considers it unfortunately modern, but many of the other noble families are taken with it." Rukia actually liked playing tennis quite a bit. She especially liked playing doubles with her friend Lady Hirata Sasori, newly minted officer of the Eleventh Division, who was extremely good at anything that involved hitting one object with another, clublike object. Unfortunately, it turned out that when most noble young people said they "wanted to play" tennis, they wanted to traipse around the court and giggle at each other, and were not very interested in getting smoked by two ladies with Gotei muscles.

"Can't we talk about something else for five minutes?" Shizue begged. "Lady Rukia, you're so lucky to live here in the city. You must get invited to so many parties! I bet you know everyone worth knowing!"

Rukia gave a little chuckle. "Not really. Well, I get invited to a lot of things, but my job keeps me pretty busy. Last year really did a number on my social schedule, between the months I spent in the World of the Living and the war, and preparing for my lieutenants' exam…"

"Ah, yes, I imagine the war must be what everyone is talking about these days," Shizue declared, sitting up a little straighter. "I am an avid reader of the Seireitei Bulletin, so naturally I am very well-informed about it. I saw that Cousin Byakuya was dispatched to Hueco Mundo, of all places. I do hope he'll tell us about it. Did you happen to see any action, Cousin Rukia?"

This was actually fairly standard for the sort of bull nobles who weren't in the Gotei would spew at Rukia while trying to make small-talk at parties, but Rukia felt a pang of sympathy for Shizue, who was clearly trying to not look like she had just arrived from Rukongai five minutes ago so hard that it was painful.

"The war coverage was pretty heavily censored," Rukia replied mildly. "But you'll find that it's pretty quickly passed from the public consciousness, at least outside of the Gotei. People were much more interested in the Ryouka Invasion, since that affected a lot more people personally."

Shizue frowned. "Oh. Grandfather wouldn't let Shigenori or I see that issue, for some reason. Shigenori was very angry, because it had a reprint of the old zanpakutou skills column, which is the only part he reads. Grandfather says the Bulletin is a rag. Father doesn't bother with it, and Mother only reads it for the social columns." Shizue jutted her chin forward. "Do a lot of people regard the Bulletin that way? I mean, I am a very critical reader and I like to keep my finger on the pulse of culture, either way, but I was just wondering what the general opinion of it is? Or rather, what is your opinion?"

"In noble circles, people's opinions of it tend to vary based on how recently the Bulletin has said something dreadful about them," Rukia replied. "It's very popular within the Gotei. I'm friends with the editor- it's not easy trying to bring some transparency to the Seireitei, but he makes a good effort." Rukia wondered when she had promoted Hisagi from a friend-of-a-friend to a regular friend. Probably around the time he convinced her to play back-up shamisen on one of his coffeehouse performances. It had turned out to be a lot more fun than she expected, and to be honest, she could even imagine the offended face Hisagi would make if he heard her refer to him as "Renji's friend" rather than her own.

"The Ryouka Invasion was when all those people in the Central 46 were killed, right?" Shizue asked.

"Well, yes, but it wasn't the ryouka that did it, it was the traitorous Gotei captains," Rukia clarified. It was irritating how many people still thought that.

"Oh," Shizue replied. "I see."

It hit Rukia very suddenly why Ginrei hadn't let Shizue read the Ryouka Invasion issue. She considered respecting his wishes for exactly one millisecond, then decided instead that it was the duty of all Kuchiki to remember and preserve the history of Soul Society. "I don't suppose anyone mentioned that I almost got executed," she said abruptly. "Because I did. I was very much almost publicly executed using the actual Soukyoku. That was the precipitating event of the Ryouka Invasion, actually. My execution."

The noodle fell out of Shizue's chopsticks and back into her bowl. The tennis instructor was staring at her, all eyes.

"Would you like to hear about it?" Rukia asked sweetly.

"Yes," Aunt Tsukasa's ancient voice creaked from across the table.


"Why are we at the Fourth? Are you ill? Did you leave your medication at home?" Byakuya kept up a steady stream of questions as he trailed his grandfather through the halls of the Coordinated Relief Station. They had already zigzagged back and forth across half the city visiting other decrepit old people of Ginrei's acquaintance, and Byakuya was beginning to feel like he had done enough of his dutiful grandson duty for one day.

"I told you, I need to ask Retsu something!"

"You do not. She will be unhappy. If you need a physician, I will be happy to-"

"Ahahahaha!" Lieutenant Kotetsu materialized out of nowhere in front of them, vibrating with anxiety. "Hello, Captains Kuchiki! Welcome to the Coordinated Relief Station, how may I be of service to you?"

Ginrei leaned back. "Is this the lieutenant?" he hissed loudly to Byakuya.

Lieutenant Kotetsu's badge was quite clearly displayed on her upper arm.

"Yes," Byakuya sighed.

"You can tell me where your boss is!" Ginrei announced.

"Oh, she can't be disturbed right now, I'm sure whatever you need, I can-"

"She'll want to see me, I'm sure. Maybe you could just go tell her I'm here." Ginrei's voice was low and steady, but his reiatsu was thrumming in the manner of a man who is used to getting his way without argument. Byakuya found it so irritating when he did that. Ginrei was still a powerful man, but he had retired for a reason. As souls neared the end of their span, their spiritual energy became unstable, undependable. He was a former captain and clan head, due respect for his long years of service and acts of bravery for the sake of the Gotei. Trying to intimidate a young, healthy vice-captain was, frankly, embarrassing.

Unfortunately, it just served to distress poor, mild-mannered Kotetsu. "No, no, she was very specific," the lieutenant of the Fourth went on, wringing her hands.

"Grandfather, please can we leave?" Byakuya mumbled, realizing that he sounded roughly sixteen years old.

"That's funny, how could she have even known I was here?" Ginrei went on blithely, but fixing Kotetsu with a pointed glare.

"I could give her a message, perhaps, if you wanted to write something down, she'll probably be free lat-"

A pulse of reiatsu rang through the halls like a gong.

"Kuchiki Ginrei," intoned a low voice, laced with murderous intentions.

Byakuya, a man who had spent a century burning the fear glands out of his body, felt a shiver run down his spine.

"Retsu!" Ginrei greeted cheerfully.

"You are disturbing my patients, Kuchiki," Unohana said through gritted teeth.

"Just happened to be in town and thought I'd swing by and see how you were doing!" Ginrei replied cheerfully.

Unohana's nose twitched. "Let's go to my office."

"I'm so sorry, Captain," Kotetsu whimpered.

Captain Unohana's demeanor softened immediately. "Oh, Isane, dear, you've done nothing wrong! Would you mind going to look after Mr. Iwabuchi in Intake Room 3?"

"Of course, Captain!"

"Oh, and Isane? Did you manage to get down to the seamstress today?"

"Ah, yes, Captain," Isane stammered. "She said it was doable."

"Wonderful!" Unohana beamed. She leaned over slightly to look past Ginrei and give a glowing smile to Byakuya that made his blood run even colder. "Thank you so much for the invitation, Captain Kuchiki. Isane and I will be delighted to attend Rukia's party. We so rarely get the opportunity to dress up."

Kotetsu was turning purple, although it was unclear whether from embarrassment or if she were simply overcome with the idea of seeing her captain in formalwear.

"We will be honored by your presence," Byakuya returned cordially. Fortunately, the protocol portion of his brain operated as a completely separate subsystem from the part of his brain that very badly wanted to go home.

"Let's go," Unohana announced, turning on her heel and setting off down the hallway at a pace that didn't seem reconcilable with the length of her legs.

"Have a lovely day, Captains Kuchiki!" Kotetsu squeaked before heading off for Intake Room 3.

"What do you want, Kuchiki?" Unohana asked, after ushering both Kuchiki into her office. She slid the door closed behind them, but hovered next to it, clearly intending to kick them out again as quickly as possible.

Ginrei appeared to be admiring the large painting of a peony that hung over her desk. "Ah, I was just wondering if you and Chikane were up for a tennis match this afternoon!"

Unohana focused a glare on him that would have felled a lesser man. "In case you haven't noticed, I am working today. And Chikane is out of town. She's on an artists' retreat."

"Ah, so she can do her art where no one has to look at it?"

Byakuya wished he could duck behind the desk.

"You're the one who's being spared humiliation," Unohana sniffed, crossing her arms. "What makes you think you could take on either one of us?"

"Ah, well, I've been training a lot, you see. I brought my private coach with me, as well. He's quite the hot shot. You could come play doubles with my grandson here."

Unohana gave Byakuya a glimpse that appeared to be laden with… pity? She pursed her lips. "Why don't you just ask Captain Kuchiki's adjutant? I believe young Abarai knows the game."

Byakuya blinked. He had definitely entered an entirely different dimension. He hadn't even known Captain Unohana played tennis until five minutes ago. The only Chikane he knew was the former Vice-Captain of Squad Three, who had acted as captain for a few years before Gin took over. He hardly knew her, as she had retired right around the time he made captain himself. And Abarai…

"Tennis is a nobleman's game," Byakuya announced. "I double Abarai has played."

Unohana shot back an icy glare. "I would be careful with my assumptions, Captain."

"I would rather play against you, Retsu," Ginrei frowned, trying to ignore this sidebar.

"Is this revenge for the time I signed him up for your ikebana class?" Byakuya asked, eyes narrowed.

Unohana's eyes went wide, as she slid her office door open again. "Abarai is a delight in ikebana class!" she exclaimed while pushing them both out into the hallway. "He… hasn't grasped any of the principles and I think he should probably be screened for color blindness, but he tries, the dear, and he's very encouraging to the other students. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm very busy this afternoon." The shoji slammed shut behind them.

"Did that go as you expected?" Byakuya asked dryly.

Ginrei shrugged. "It was worth a try. Let's call up Abarai."

"He is supervising the squad!" Byakuya exclaimed.

Ginrei shrugged. "We both know that a well-organized squad practically runs itself. If you had to go into a dangerous battle, you'd call him, wouldn't you?"

"But I am not."

"Tennis is important. Call the man."

Byakuya crossed his arms over his chest. "I do not carry a spirit phone."

Ginrei stared at him. "Grandson."

Byakuya refused to make eye contact.

"Here." Ginrei held out his own phone, starting at Byakuya icily. "Do you know his number?"

"Of course I know his number!" Byakuya snapped. "Do you not know the numbers of those you contact frequently?"

"No, I store them in the phone," Ginrei replied as though Byakuya were the unreasonable one.

Sighing, Byakuya took the phone and tapped in Abarai's number.

"Abarai Renji," his confused adjutant answered a few moments later.

"It's your captain," Byakuya muttered.

"Oh, hey, Captain! Usually, you call me from Rukia's phone."

"I am not with Rukia. This is Grandfather's phone."

There was a long pause, and then, "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Ahh, this may seem like a bit of an odd question…" Byakuya glanced up. Ginrei was staring at him expectantly. "Do you know how to play tennis?"

Another long pause. "Tennis, sir?"

"Tennis, Abarai. It's a game with a net and racquets-"

"Yes, sir, your Granddad's favorite game. I was only making sure I heard right, 'cause Rukia and I had a bet going as to how long it was gonna take before he tried to rope you into playing. I take it that happened?"

"Yes. Wait, I just asked if you knew the game! How did you-?"

"It was obvious, sir. You want me to gin up an emergency back at the division?"

The idea was tempting, but it was too early in the week. Grandfather would grow suspicious if Yuki faked a fatal injury too many times in a row. "No, I think it best to face it head on."

"As you like, sir! And to answer your question, yes, I know how to play."

"Oh." Byakuya thought for a moment, then covered the microphone. "Where do you intend that we play?"

"Where do you normally play tennis?"

"I told you, I don't!" With a sigh, he removed his hand. "Abarai, where does one play tennis around here, assuming one does not maintain a private court?"

"Oh, well, Squads Three and Eight have courts. There's also a coupla courts over at the Common Rec Fields."

Byakuya contemplated it for a moment. He definitely did not wish any of the other captains to witness this humiliation. "The Recreational Fields will do, I suppose. Do you think the upper seats can handle the rest of your days' duties?"

"Sure, sir. I tried to get out ahead of stuff in case you needed anything like this. Hey, do you own a racquet? I know you hate tennis. I can bring an extra one."

"You own multiple tennis racquets?" This was definitely an alternate dimension.

"Iba buys them and then he doesn't like them and he foists them off on me. I got a few." Curiouser and curiouser.

"I am sure I own a racquet somewhere, but I am not at home and- Grandfather, you don't have a racquet. How are we going to play tennis?"

"Jukou will bring me one."

"Who is Jukou?"

"My tennis instructor."

Byakuya closed his eyes painfully. Well, that explained why the tennis instructor had been brought along. He briefly contemplated telling Abarai to bring his zanpakutou in order to put him out of his misery. "I will see you shortly, Abarai."


Rukia sat in the parlor with Shizue and Aunt Tsukasa, doing embroidery. Sort of.

Embroidery was one of those things that Rukia had been taught, but never really mastered. There had been so many things in the beginning, and Byakuya had only really cared that she was attending the lessons, rather than making any actual progress. She frowned at her work. It was supposed to be a bunny. It didn't look at all like a bunny. Who had time for this crap?

"So, what you have to understand," she continued explaining, "is that Soul Society only has jurisdiction over a limited geographic portion of the Living World. Humans are able to travel to other parts of the Living World by large boats or machines called 'airplanes.'"

"Is an airplane like a senkaimon?" Shizue asked, who had made a big show of unpacking her embroidery kit and yet did not seem to have made a single stitch. "Grandfather said we could see a senkaimon while we were here."

"An airplane is not at all like a senkaimon," Rukia frowned, trying to think of a good comparison. "It's sort of like a train, only it flies through the air. Do you know what a train is?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" Shizue announced. "When Shigenori was little, Grandfather gave him a picture book about the East Rukongai Limited. I should like to ride it out to see the sea someday! Have you ever, Cousin Rukia?"

"I love the sea," Aunt Tsukasa murmured. She wasn't even looking at her work as her gnarled fingers moved up and down. Rukia surreptitiously tried to peek over at it, wondering if it was just a tangle of knots. It was not. It was an elaborate, beautifully scaled dragon, curling around a perfectly rendered Kuchiki crest.

"No, I've only ever been to the sea in the World of the Living," Rukia said vaguely. "It's not important! The important thing is that other parts of the World of the Living have amazing kinds of food that we don't have here! I am going to tell you about a thing called...a burrito."

"HEY! SHIZUE!"

Rukia jumped nearly a foot in the air as Sugita's head and shoulders appeared through the outside window.

"I'm learning about other cultures, Coach Jukou!"

"No time for learning, Shizue! Ginrei called! There's a tennis emergency!"

Shizue sighed heavily, but began to pack up her sewing. "I'm sure there's not."

"Ms. Rukia! Can we count on your racquet arm?"

Rukia blinked. "Er. Sure. I'm probably not nearly as good as the rest of you."

"That doesn't matter! What matters is: do you know where the 'Gotei Sector 4 Common Recreational Fields' are?"

"I do," Rukia reassured him, groping for her phone. "Is everything all right? Isn't Brother with Grandfather?" What in Hell was a tennis emergency?

"Yes, he is! Do you think he'll want us to bring him some shorts?"

The combined ghosts of 26 bygone generations of Kuchiki Clan Heads suddenly took possession of Rukia's body. "Absolutely not," she intoned.

Sugita made a disappointed face. "Yeah, Ginrei insists on playing in hakama, too. I like to feel a little breezies on my knees-ies, personally!"

"My brother does not play tennis," Rukia went on, trying to be subtle as she checked the group chat, but no one had checked in since lunchtime. What the f- she started to type before remembering that her captain was in this now. What is going on? she typed, desperately.

Someone is typing popped up immediately, and a few moments later, a text from Renji that read, I guess we're playing tennis?

Rukia stared at it blankly for a moment as additional texts from Mikan (I'll ready your tennis hakama, miss!) and Captain Ukitake (Good luck! Have a great time!) popped up.

"I guess we're playing tennis," Rukia echoed.