There was an area of the Kuchiki gardens tucked next to the south wing of the house, behind the sakura grove, where generations of Kuchiki, children and Gotei captains alike, had gone to practice their swordwork. It wasn't much more than an open courtyard lined with soft sand, but it was quiet and out of the way, and it got a nice breeze on summer afternoons. The easiest access to the practice yard was a nondescript pair of shogi just down the hall from Byakuya's study.
They had been left open.
Byakuya had walked past them at least six times.
He was trying to wrangle a number of last-minute details about the party, although he was quite aware that 1) they were details that did not exactly require his intervention and 2) he was not usually in the habit of chasing down the servants in his house to ask them things, and 3) it was seven in the morning.
He had not had his breakfast yet. That was the problem. It was very important for Byakuya to eat breakfast shortly after awakening, but he had put it off this morning, because he had thought it would be pleasant to eat with Rukia and Grandfather once they had finished their dawn sword lesson.
Byakuya was beginning to wonder if they were ever going to finish.
If he wished, he certainly could have stepped out onto the engawa to watch. It would not have been inappropriate.
As a child, Byakuya's father had been his daily sword instructor. It was Soujun who carefully explained each technique, who assigned exercises, whose calloused fingers had gently corrected the position of Byakuya's elbows. Ginrei's time was so precious, always taken up by the Clan or the Gotei, but he still made time to check in on Byakuya's progress from time to time. Byakuya probably should have felt nervous during these demonstrations, but all he could remember was basking in the glow of his grandfather's attention.
Byakuya had not been a naturally obedient child. It was too hard to keep his body still. He always wanted to stand when it was time to sit. His fingers were always tapping and fidgeting. His mind drifted when he was supposed to be doing sums and the next thing he knew, his slate was covered with Ambassador Seaweed's adventures.
Sword practice was different. With a bokuto in his hands, the world slowed down, gained focus. He never minded the repetition, the ache of his muscles, the disgusting sensation of sweat on his hands. But best of all, was how proud it made his grandfather.
In those days, he had idolized Ginrei. Grandfather was the bravest, wisest, smartest person Byakuya knew. He was like one of the great Kuchiki generals from his history books, except that he lived right in Byakuya's house and noticed whenever Byakuya stabbed a piece of food with his chopsticks or forgot to brush his hair. Eventually, Byakuya would learn to hold his body still, to push the thousand, bright fluttering thoughts that cluttered his mind into the place in his soul that would eventually become Senbonzakura, but those first, golden words of praise had come during sword practice.
No, Soujun had been the nervous one, actually, standing on the engawa, his eyes darting between his father and his son. Byakuya had never understood what concerned his father so. Sword practice was a safe place, a place where he was a good grandson and Heir.
He understood now.
Rukia was not the Heir to the Kuchiki. She had been nearly a grown woman before Byakuya even met her. She was not his subordinate. He had taken responsibility for her fighting prowess primarily by securing her a position in a division best known for encouraging the personal growth of all its members.
And yet, despite the fact that he had no particular reason or obligation to do so, he had taught her some of the family sword form.
He liked spending time with her.
She was interested in it.
The family sword form was his favorite thing to talk about.
He shouldn't have. The Kuchiki family sword form was his family's greatest treasure. It was the strength of his clan. The keeping of it was a solemn obligation. He had not been serious enough in Rukia's tutelage. He had not been strict enough with her. It was not her duty to bear this knowledge and he had no business burdening her with the responsibility.
Byakuya stood in the corridor. He had walked by those open doors too many times already.
Ginrei had raised a fuss when Byakuya married Hisana, but he had been utterly silent about Rukia's adoption. Byakuya had given Rukia his name and let her share his home. But he was sure, deep in his heart, that when Ginrei saw the haphazard job he had done at teaching her the sword form, that would be the final straw.
"-you should have seen his face when Brother hit him with the sokatsui!" Rukia suddenly stepped inside. Her cheeks and nose were bright pink, a sure sign that she'd just come out of shikai. "Oh! Brother!" She smiled sheepishly. "I didn't know you were there."
Byakuya's feet felt made of lead.
Ginrei joined her. "Ahh, good morning, Grandson! You missed a beautiful sunrise. Have you eaten yet?"
"Ah, no," Byakuya managed.
"Good, you can have breakfast with us!" Rukia beamed. "I'll meet you in the dining room- I want to go get cleaned up! I won't be long, I'm starving!"
"You are always starving after sword practice," Byakuya replied vaguely.
"It's because I work so hard!" Rukia trilled as she disappeared down the hall. "I have to replenish my energy stores!"
Ginrei shook his head. "I cannot believe you decided to train her."
Byakuya clenched his back teeth, bracing himself.
"She's exhausting! Then again, you're a youngster, you've still got energy. Must be nice."
Byakuya blinked.
"How often do you work with her?"
"Not as often as I'd like. A few times a week. I hope that we can settle into a more regular schedule now that she has passed her exam."
Ginrei shook his head. "I've known a lot of people who learn a secondary sword form. Kuchiki-style isn't for everyone. But I don't think I've ever met someone who was fully trained in swordsmanship who took on Kuchiki-form as a secondary. It doesn't seem possible. It's like a hobby for her."
"Rukia takes her studies very seriously, Grandfather," Byakuya replied.
"Er, I didn't mean-" Ginrei blustered and Byakuya was shocked. "I misspoke. I was just surprised."
"That is her nature. Surprising people. One grows used to it. Somewhat."
"Well, keep up the good work. I didn't expect to say this, but I think she's well worth your time."
Byakuya didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He couldn't identify the feeling in his chest. It wasn't pride, he knew what that felt like. There was certainly a hefty component of relief to it. Whether or not there was a word for it, he knew it was exactly the feeling he had seen painting his father's face after those long ago sword lessons.
Ginrei clapped him on the shoulder. "Sounds like we shouldn't let her beat us to breakfast, either, there might not be anything left." Ginrei scowled, his mustache bristling. "And what's this about you not eating? You know you need to eat as soon as you get up or you get cranky."
Byakuya just sighed and followed his grandfather to breakfast.
With Byakuya out of the office, Renji had intended to have a quiet day, except that people kept turning things in. He strongly suspected that they were doing it in hopes that their work would somehow evade Captain Kuchiki's scrutiny. Half of Renji was slightly offended that no one seemed to have a healthy enough fear of Assistant Captain Abarai's scrutiny, but the other half honestly wanted to just let it slide. That same half also kind of wanted a nap. Hobnobbing on a weeknight was exhausting- Renji wasn't sure how the captain managed it on the regular.
Renji's phone buzzed. Text from Rukia. "did u ever pick up your dress uniform? i want a pic"
Renji muttered a curse. "It's a surprise," he typed back. "You'll see it at your party."
"i know u didn't get it b/c koshino is here sticking me full of pins and he is yelling at me about u. y does he think am i the boss of u?"
"I'll do it today!" Renji tapped into his phone, hoping the additional exclamation point would convey some sense of urgency, even though he doubted he'd be free of his stupid desk any time before lunch. His right arm felt a lot better this morning, but he was still writing with the left out of an abundance of caution, and everything felt like it was taking twice as long as usual. Easing back in his chair, he allowed himself a brief moment to daydream about Rukia trying on her party dress. She stubbornly refused to tell him anything about it, aside from 'it's Squad Thirteen-ish.' "Maybe you should send me a pic!" he added. "Get Mikan to take it, your selfies are terrible."
There was a long pause, during which Renji managed to skim half of an expense report and register none of it. Finally, a picture popped up. Renji snatched at his phone. It was an absolutely adorable selfie of Rukia's maid, winking and scrunching her freckled nose and making a victory sign with her fingers into the camera. There was an out-of-focus red and black blob in the background that might have been Rukia in a very fancy kimono. Renji shook his head.
"Mikan is an angel," he texted back. "Stop teaching her your ways."
Rukia sent back a row of laugh-crying emoji. Then, "i told her u said that and she turned red and said 'tell Lt Abarai he is an angel too' so i am telling u even tho it's lies."
Renji snorted out loud at that, but before he could think of anything to type back, there was a rap at the door. "g2g," he typed quickly.
"get ur suit!1" came back as he tossed his phone into his desk drawer.
"Come!" he called.
The shoji slid open and Ohno's sallow face poked in. "I compiled the training statistics you wanted," he said.
"Great!" Renji replied, even though the last thing he wanted was more paperwork to look at. "I can take it."
Ohno was never exactly peppy, but he definitely seemed even more subdued than usual as he crossed the office and handed Renji a bound report. He hovered at Renji's desk for a moment, shifting from one foot to the other. If it were literally anyone else, Renji would have prompted the man to say his piece, but he had a feeling that would only scare Ohno away.
"Sir," Ohno finally said, and then closed his eyes painfully. "I hate to do this, but, permission to speak freely?"
Renji leaned his chair back on two legs and stretched his arms behind his head. "Captain's not here, you know I don't mind if you wanna cuss."
"I do not want to-" Ohno flexed his fingers into fists and relaxed them again. "Not that it is remotely your business, but given that the reputation of a respectable lady is involved, I feel like I need to explain myself."
"You really don't," Renji replied, even though the part of him that was friends with Yumichika and Rangiku was dying for more details. "It looked like a private moment. You know Rukia and I ain't gossips, it's not like either of us are gonna tell anyone."
"I...know that," Ohno frowned.
"But if it would make you feel better, go ahead, out with it."
Ohno looked conflicted for a moment, but then he finally sighed. "I am a filial son and I take my role as Heir to the Ohno clan very seriously."
Definitely not where Renji thought this was going, but on the other hand: nobles.
"Without getting too deeply into the details of intra-clan politics, my father has long desired to see me married to a lady from close to the Kuchiki main line, in order to reinforce the bonds of loyalty between our families."
"What, like Rukia?"
"Lady Rukia would not be ideal," Ohno replied. "The point is, this is a thing I have accepted will happen eventually, but it is largely my parents' concern and I do not dwell on it in my daily life. Now, I have a certain interest in kabuki theater-"
"You do?"
"It is a very bold and inventive art form, Abarai. Just because it originates in-"
"Buddy, I got nothing against kabuki. I was just surprised you have interests."
Ohno glared at him. "Last month," he bit off, "I was introduced to Lady Ishibashi through a mutual friend- she is involved in designing the sets for a production of Kezori the Pirate, you see, and the theater was holding a fundraising event for the upcoming season. To make a long story short, she is a very intelligent and engaging woman, and we… had been finding opportunities to meet socially."
"Rukia says she's a real catch."
Ohno glowered. "She is the finest woman in the Seireitei, Abarai, and I wish I had the freedom to tell her so."
According to Rukia, the woman in question was a bit of a strange bird, as nobles went. She was the child of her father's heart, and had been allowed to go to university instead of being married off at the usual age. She made weird art and sponsored weird plays and designed her own clothing. She wrote opinionated letters and sent them to the Bulletin. She was not young. She was rich and powerful, but not exactly in demand. Renji was not the biggest fan of Ohno Isao, but he was utterly charmed by the idea that his Third Seat had clearly fallen hard for this woman. He sat up and rested his hands on his desk.
"Why can't you?"
"Because my father has made an overly generous offer on Kuchiki Shizue's hand, for one," Ohno replied. It was unclear whether his exasperation was directed at his father, or Renji's obtuseness.
"Shizue?!" Renji exclaimed. "Shizue who was here yesterday?"
Ohno gave him a pitying look. "I am guessing it was not obvious to you that Lord Ginrei brought her here for the purposes of finding her a husband?"
"It was not!"
"Well, that would explain why you gave her a sword-fighting lesson yesterday instead of introducing her around, like you were supposed to," Ohno sighed, shaking his head. "In any case, the significance of her presence was not lost on Lady Ishibashi, who confronted me on my intentions. She… was not happy with my answer." Ohno sighed. "I need you to understand that I had no intention of leading her on. I simply… enjoyed her company and wished to spend time with her."
Renji frowned. "What, exactly did you tell her?"
Ohno fidgeted. "She observed my mother fawning over Shizue and asked if I expected an offer to be made. I said yes. She asked if I would agree to such a thing. I said that it was my duty to do so. Then she left. You know the rest."
"Oof."
"Yes. 'Oof.' Thank you, Lieutenant Abarai, that sums it up very well."
"I didn't… I'm sorry, man. That sounds like a bunch of really crummy timing."
Ohno looked pensive. "In some ways, it is better that the specter of a possible arranged marriage reared its head sooner, rather than later. I forgot myself, and now I am paying for it." His face scrunched. "The worst of it, for me at least, is that, had I never met Lady Ishiboshi, I should be very happy right now. Lady Shizue is perfect in every aspect, except for the fact that she is not Lady Ishiboshi."
Renji knew that feeling, it was as familiar as a punch in the gut and felt about as good. "It's not a done deal, though, right? Lady Shizue might pick someone else, or no one at all, right?"
"I doubt she has much say in it, either, but yes, that is certainly a possibility. However, it would only serve to delay the inevitable, and then I would have an irate father to deal with, as well."
Renji drummed his fingers on his desk briefly. "Look, man, I don't really know all the people involved well enough to tell you what to do, but if you need help pulling off some sort of crazy plan, do not hesitate to ask. Like, if you need a witness at a secret marriage, or want me to sword-fight someone's angry brother or something, I am your vice-captain and I am here for you. I can probably talk Rukia into helping, too, she considers you her sword-rival now, which means she would do anything for you."
"What?" Ohno croaked. "You don't even like me."
"I love love, buddy. It doesn't matter if I like you. You are my precious subordinate, and I got your back."
Ohno stared at him for a long moment. "You are the strangest person I have ever met, sir. I didn't come to you for help or for advice. I have every intention of following my family's wishes. I just didn't want you to think I made a regular habit of making women... cry. I'm not even sure why she was so upset. As I said, I never promised her anything."
"Ohno. My man. She was upset because she likes you." Renji crossed his arms on his desk and leaned forward. "I know you don't want my advice, but you're getting it anyway. You should tell her you like her, too."
Ohno's nostrils flared. "Did you listen to a single thing I said? The situation is intractable. Besides, I highly doubt she wants to hear anything I have to say right now."
"Like I said," Renji repeated slowly, "I don't know jack about your situation, and I'm not second-guessing your decision. But I had to say good-bye to someone once, because it was best for both of us. I don't regret that decision, but I do regret not telling 'em how much it hurt to let 'em go." He shrugged, as though this were merely a thing that had happened and not a mistake he had spent forty long years trying to rectify. "Also, years down the line, you might get a second chance you weren't expecting. Always worth ending on a good note, in my opinion."
Ohno made the weaselly face he often made when (Renji assumed) he wanted to say something mean, but was holding his tongue. "I'll consider it," he finally said, "if you will do me the courtesy of forgetting all of this."
"I can't even remember to pick up my dress uniform from the tailor. Consider it forgotten."
"I doubt I shall get the opportunity to explain myself to Lady Rukia…"
"I'll fill her in and then she'll forget it, too. She ain't gonna hold it against you."
Ohno stood for a moment longer. "Thank you, sir," he finally said. "Let me know if you have any questions about those statistics."
"Will do!" Renji replied.
Ohno left, and Renji sat back in his chair and breathed out a huge breath. That conversation had made him feel sad and weird and also very, very lucky. He fished his phone out of his desk again.
"Hey," he texted. "Are we going to get [ramen emoji] tonite? After [paintbrush] [muscle arm]?"
"YISSSSSSSSS! [ramen] [heart] [ramen] [heart] [ramen] [heart]" As Renji chuckled over Rukia's ramen fervor, a second text popped up. "[snowflake] [bunny] [heart] [heart] [heart] [monkey] [snake] [sunglasses]
Renji stared at it for a long minute before sending back "[sparkle][muscle arm][grin face]." He stared at the screen a moment longer, feeling a rueful smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "Love you, too, Rukia," he murmured.
Byakuya frowned deeply as he carefully unpacked a trunk from his much younger days. Goodness, had he actually worn that cobalt blue haori? In public? He sighed, and tried not to look at anything too closely.
Rukia was a very pragmatic woman, even more so than her sister, which made certain aspects of their relationship very straightforward. In the days after she had passed her qualification examination, he asked her if there was a gift that she would like to commemorate her new position. She had replied very promptly that she would like a pair of tekkou similar to his own, an idea that both pleased and flattered him. It was both a practical and elegant choice, respectful of family tradition. The tekkou in question had arrived from his favorite leatherwork shop, lovely white kid leather, tooled with a subtle snowflake motif.
They had immediately seemed insufficient.
So here he was, digging through things that had once been simple parts of his daily life, and now he wished never to see again. Heavens, the red and gold pauldrons he had worn when he was a lieutenant, because he thought they made him look like Senbonzakura. How did he even move in those things? Hair ribbons, why did he have so many? Finally, down near the bottom, a thick, knit shawl, fuzzy with use, bearing the faint scent of white plum. Trying not to think too hard about it, he unwound it from the object it was protecting.
Yes, it was exactly as gaudy as he had remembered it. He could still remember unwrapping it, the look of unmatchable smugness on Hisana's face, and the two of them collapsing in laughter at the very thought of him putting it into use.
It was perfect.
In six hours, Rukia was getting a tattoo. It was all she could think about.
She wondered if it would hurt. Obviously, it would hurt some, but it couldn't possibly hurt worse than being stabbed.
Rukia frowned. Renji compared various minor pains to getting stabbed all the time and it was really a horrible comparison. Getting stabbed hurt a lot. Then again, Renji had tattoos covering a third of his body. She probably shouldn't trust anything he had to say on the topic of pain thresholds.
Last night, she had asked Renji if he thought it was a good idea to get a tattoo the day after getting stabbed in the arm. He said that it wouldn't be the first time he had done so, and anyway, it should be fine, since it wasn't like he was getting the tattoo on the arm in question.
He was, as a matter of fact, getting his second thigh stripes. Rukia assumed he would change into those little shorts he wore for futsal. Surely he wouldn't take off his pants entirely. He must have, though, when he got the butt stripes. That meant Tenryuu had seen his butt. Rukia had seen his butt, too, but it had been a while. It had been a pretty decent caboose back then, but she had a feeling it was really stupendous these days. His thighs were definitely stupendous. Would it be rude to look at his thighs while he was getting them inked? She was pretty sure that would be an effective way to distract herself from the pain.
"Rukia? What is this?"
Rukia abruptly snapped back to reality. Paying attention to what was going on around you with one quarter of your brain while also thinking about your best friend's derriere was a Kuchiki Secret Technique. At very least, she had learned how to do it from watching Byakuya. She did not know what Byakuya thought about when he retreated to his mind palace. She sincerely hoped it was not Renji's butt.
"Those are coffee beans," Rukia replied.
"They smell so good!" Shizue exclaimed. "What do you do with them?"
In the interest of staying out of the servants' way while they deep cleaned the manor, Byakuya had planned a Day About Town. They were currently in his favorite tea shop, where he was currently trying to help Ginrei stock up on "good city tea," a process that was taking one hundred thousand years because they had to have some arcane argument about the properties of every tea in the shop. Rukia wasn't even sure they disagreed with one another, they just really wanted to express their opinions. Vehemently.
Apparently, the tea shop now stocked coffee.
"You can grind them up and make a hot beverage. Everyone drinks it in the Living World," Rukia explained.
"It must be delicious!" Shizue declared, taking a deep inhale.
"The smell is misleading," Rukia explained. "The first time you drink it, it nearly kills you."
Shizue's eyes went wide. She lowered her voice. "Can we get some?"
"You need special equipment to brew it. Brother doesn't approve of coffee, which is stupid, because I know he would like it. There are cafes around town that serve it. I think they get most of their business from Academy students and junior shinigami who are just trying it on a dare."
"I see!" Shizue replied. "Why do you drink it then, if it's horrible?"
"Oh, well, it's rather nice, once you get used to it," Rukia explained. "I drank it a lot when I was stationed in the Living World. It's even better than tea for pepping you up when you're tired." That, she suspected, was why Renji was nuts for it. Coffee was okay, in Rukia's opinion, but her primary motivation for drinking it was that there was a nice little shop just outside the Thirteenth's barracks and she could nearly always convince him to swing by before work hours or on an afternoon break with the prospect of caffeination.
"I wish we had some right now," Shizue muttered. "Look, Coach Jukou can barely stay awake!"
Sure enough, Shizue's tennis instructor was leaning against a rack of kocha on deep discount. His eyelids would droop lower for a few seconds and then he would shake himself awake again.
"Rukia, are we going to do anything fun today?" Shizue beseeched.
Rukia pulled out the copy of their itinerary that Byakuya had given her. They had already gone to admire the new fountain that had been built in front of the Great Archives, and picked up some ink at the calligraphy store. "It says we're going to a tennis shop after this. That should be fun, right? I imagine they have a lot of stuff here in the city that you can't get out in Rukongai."
This did not have the effect on Shizue's mood that Rukia had hoped. "Well, at least that should wake Jukou up."
"After that is the city art museum," Rukia continued. "I really like the art museum. A lot of noble families will loan out their works of art for a limited amount of time so everyone can enjoy it. It's never, you know, the great treasures of Soul Society or anything, but there's always something interesting."
"There's nothing on there about going to a kimono shop or getting wagashi?" Shizue asked desperately. "Or going to see a play? Or live music?"
Rukia frowned. She wished she could take Shizue off for a tour of the city that was geared more toward the interests of an up-and-coming young lady, but there was no way she was abandoning Byakuya to suffer his grandfather alone. "Maybe we can squeeze something in at the end," she offered hopefully.
Shizue heaved a huge sigh.
"Brother worked really hard to try to think of things Grandfather would enjoy," Rukia tried to explain.
Shizue gave her a strange look. "He didn't need to go to all that trouble. Grandfather doesn't care much about sightseeing or fancy restaurants. He's much more interested in making friends and meeting people. He's already the king of the Masumizuumi social scene, such as it is. We probably could have just gone around and paid social calls to Cousin Byakuya's friends and he would be happy as a clam."
Rukia stared blankly at her cousin. Byakuya hated making social calls. He went to parties and made public appearances and did the sort of celebrity things that were expected of a clan head, but he didn't especially enjoy it, and he certainly didn't seek out additional opportunities to spend time with others. He didn't even particularly like gallivanting about town like this- she was sure that given the choice, he'd rather be at home, fussing over his orchids or reading peacefully in the garden with Aunt Tsukasa painting nearby. "You know, I used to think they were very similar," Rukia said slowly. "Byakuya and Grandfather, that is. They aren't, though, are they?"
Shizue grimaced. "Really? Cousin Byakuya is so serious!" Her face turned thoughtful. "I suppose that's what Grandfather means when he talks about the importance of putting on a 'Kuchiki face.' Cousin Byakuya really is good at it, isn't he? I don't imagine very many people would even guess that he might be someone entirely different underneath."
"No," Rukia echoed. "No, I don't think very many people would."
Byakuya wasn't sure he liked the painting.
It was a seaside scene, the grey, pebbly coast of the Shiranui Sea in East Rukongai.
Byakuya had been to the Shiranui Sea once, in summertime. Hisana's doctor had suggested the salt air might be curative and Hisana had latched onto the idea immediately. Byakuya did not care for the seaside. It had been the height of summer, and everywhere they went had been crowded and loud and very, very bright. All the food was too salty or too sweet. Despite faithfully lathering up with preventative cream every day, Byakuya's nose got sunburnt. It turned red and then it hurt and then it peeled. Hisana loved every minute of the trip and made him promise they could come back again the following year. Byakuya had promised. There had been no following year.
The painting was a wintertime scene. The sea was grey and frothy. The shacks that sold shaved ice and cold ramen and sliced fruit were closed up. The beach was empty. A few grey boats braved the indifferent sea.
Rukia wrinkled her nose. "What do you think, Brother?"
"It is very skillfully done."
"Oh, for sure! Yes! I just can't decide how it makes me feel."
Byakuya glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "The summer is a more appropriate season for a coastal scene."
"It would be more straightforward, for sure," Rukia acknowledged. "But that's what makes it interesting. It's sad, the beach in winter. Not really sad. Melancholy."
"Lonely."
Rukia glanced back at him out of the corner of her eye. "It should be, shouldn't it? It is, I suppose, but there's also something comforting about it."
"A reminder, perhaps, that we endure, and summer will eventually return?"
"Hmm. I guess I thought about it in the opposite way. That we all have times of sadness or stagnation or… or waiting for something to happen. Those are as much a part of existence as the happy times. The beach still exists in the winter."
"I should have known better than to go to an art museum with a woman whose zanpakutou is the embodiment of winter."
Rukia laughed. "All right, Big Brother Springtime. I think I actually just like it because it reminds me of coming home on a cold, grey day and eating hot soup. You don't have to like it."
"I do like it, actually. I was not sure at first, but you have talked me into it."
The beach still existed. A beach was still worth painting, even in the wintertime. It was an interesting idea.
Byakuya liked going to the art museum with Rukia.
"Aunt Tsukasa told me to try to remember a few of the paintings and to tell her about them when we get home. I think I'm going to tell her about this one. I wish she could have come."
"It is a lot of walking," Byakuya pointed out. "She had just started a painting this morning when I spoke to her. She seemed very happy to sit in the garden and work on it." He glanced over to see what the rest of their little party was enjoying.
Shizue and Sugita were standing in front of a large pair of screens that Byakuya recalled as being on loan from the Shihouin family. It depicted the (likely apocryphal) story of the legendary warrior Shihouin Yokaze defending the Black Ridge Gate against a horde of Hollows after the fall of its gatekeeper. Sugita was studying the screen, his thick brows furrowed in thought. Shizue appeared to be attempting to explain the historical context of the scene to him. She seemed very frustrated.
Byakuya wasn't even entirely sure why Coach Jukou was here. Ms. Fukuda had stayed behind to catch up on her letter writing, and, as noted, Aunt Tsukasa had elected to spend the afternoon in the garden, working on her painting (or possibly napping in the shade of the sakura). Sugita seemed to be a rather easy-going companion, but the mystery of it all rankled.
Pushing that feeling aside, Byakuya glanced around for his grandfather. Ginrei was sitting on a bench, slightly hunched, his head tilted down to look at-
"Grandfather," Byakuya said sternly. "Are you on your phone?"
Ginrei looked up, his eyes gleaming. "Grandson! I just got a Text Message from Genryuusai! He says he and Sasakibe are hitting the baths this afternoon and they want to know if we want to come along. Have you ever been to the First Division baths? They're superb!"
Byakuya's blood ran cold. At his side, Rukia stiffened.
"Ugh, that would be great!" Jukou replied enthusiastically.
"You'll love it, Jukou" Ginrei informed him. "They keep the water incredibly hot. It'll clear your pores right out. Genryuusai said he wants to meet you anyway."
"Grandfather," Byakuya said, his voice clipped. "We are at the art museum."
"Byakuya, I am old, I have been to a lot of art museums. I am only going to get so many more chances to spend time with my friends. When's the last time you had a nice, relaxing bath, anyway?"
"What about the ladies?" Byakuya pressed. He assumed the First Division bathhouse had a women's side, but he imagined it would be fairly awkward for them to bathe without a host of some sort.
"Oh! Oh! Instead of going to the baths, Rukia could take me around to some of her favorite shops!" Shizue piped up, far too eagerly.
Byakuya glanced at his sister, who looked deeply hesitant. Byakuya wasn't entirely sure why. She seemed to get along well with Shizue, and at least she could be free of Grandfather for a few hours. He only wished he had such a luxury.
"Well, that would be fine, except- Oh, golly, I'm getting a phone call! Sorry, everyone, I have to take this, might be my captain!" Rukia turned her back to them and wandered a few steps away for privacy as she fumbled her soul pager out of her sleeve. There was something off about this. It seemed to have taken longer than necessary to answer an incoming call. "Hello? Renji? What's the matter?"
Byakuya's ears pricked up.
"Yes, he's here. You've what?" She paused, and Byakuya could definitely hear the lower register of his lieutenant's voice on the other end of the line, although it was too muffled to make out any words. Hmm. He couldn't tell if the phone call was a charade or not. "Oh, no, Renji, Hanatarou told you to be careful! UGH, why are you talking to me! Go to the Coordinated Relief Station! No, it's fine! He can come down. It's not a problem, I promise! He'll take care of it. No, he's not going to be mad at you. Well, he will be mad at you if you bleed out in the middle of your office. I'm hanging up! I'm hanging up right now! Text me when you're patched up again." She made a frustrated noise and flipped the phone shut.
"What has he done now?" Byakuya sniffed. He still had his suspicions about the veracity of this story and hoped Rukia would give him a hint.
Rukia sighed. "Oh, Brother, I guess you overheard. That was Renji, of course. He's opened up his wound and has to go over to the Fourth."
"I'm surprised he made it all the way to the afternoon," Byakuya replied.
"He mentioned a meeting with Captain Muguruma about a joint exercise you're supposed to be doing next week? He said you would know about it. I guess it's already been rescheduled three times and-"
Aha! It was a ruse! The Thirteenth had a joint training session with the Ninth the following week, not the Sixth. Byakuya was too busy being impressed with his sister's quick thinking and extraordinary acting skills to consider what her goal might be. All he knew was that she was counting on him to play along. "Muguruma is impossible to pin down," Byakuya grumbled. "I am so sorry, Grandfather, I must go to the office."
Shizue's brows furrowed. "Will Lieutenant Abarai be alright?"
"Oh, yes, he contains a lot of blood, it doesn't hurt him to lose some now and again," Byakuya excused at the same time as Rukia said, "This happens to him constantly, he'll be at the bar by nightfall!"
Ginrei stroked the end of his mustache. "Well, it's a shame you'll miss the baths, Grandson, but there's no rest for a Gotei captain! No need to feel bad about it, we can certainly entertain ourselves!"
"You just go take care of your Division," Rukia encouraged, and Byakuya noticed that her earlier caginess had dissipated. He wondered what could have caused it and why it would have been relieved by-
It hit him. She had just gotten him out of an afternoon of horrible old man stories and Sasakibe trying to give him hair care tips. She hadn't wanted him to suffer alone.
Byakuya's heart suddenly flooded with affection for his sister, dishonest little hobgoblin that she was. Of course, to show any sign of his gratitude would betray her clever deception, so he did his best to keep up the act. "Thank you all for your understanding," he said graciously. "Do not hesitate to have a wonderful time without me."
Byakuya floated into the office as though it were a perfectly normal Friday. "Well," he said, by way of greeting, "I am glad to see that your arm is, indeed, still attached."
Renji stared at his boss. "Wait, you weren't in on it?"
"Rukia appeared to be improvising on the spot. Fortunately, I am familiar enough with her quick thinking that I was able to play along with her subterfuge. Grandfather was thoroughly taken in."
"Ah… good job, sir?" Renji offered.
"But I did have the slightest of reservations and did not wish to seem insensitive if, in fact, more of your blood had fallen out of you, as it sometimes does."
"I had a check-in with Hanatarou this morning," Renji assured him. "He says everything is healing up great, and I should be as good as n- as good as I was before by tomorrow. He says my veins are unbelievable." Byakuya did not seem impressed. Renji cleared his throat. "Also, he got me an appointment with Captain Unohana next week," he muttered. "He says the insides of my arm are so horrifying that she would definitely want to see them herself."
"Excellent," Byakuya declared, sitting down and placing his hands palm down on his desk. "What are we doing this afternoon? I assume we do not actually have a meeting with Captain Muguruma."
Renji blinked. That must have been the other half of Rukia's lousy cover story. "Not that I know of," he replied. "And… nothing, actually. I was just finishing up the last thing I had to do today." He had actually been just about to take a break and run over to pick up his dress uniform when he received Rukia's frantic phone call. Even without any sort of context, he could tell half of a Rukia-grift when he heard one, and figured it would be smart to stick around until his captain showed up. "If you don't mind my askin'... what are we doing here? Did you need an excuse to swing by the office, or was Rukia gettin' you out of something unpleasant?"
"The latter." He did not offer any further detail.
Renji nodded. "Fourth day out of six, tomorrow's the big party. You holdin' up okay, sir?"
Byakuya scowled. "You and Rukia both fret endlessly over me, as though I am not capable of enduring a man I lived with for nearly a century."
"Nobody's frettin', sir," Renji excused. "We just like to check in. Holding feelings down in your chest until they turn to vinegar doesn't help anybody." He sucked his teeth. "Me and Rukia are both trying to be better about not doing that." He paused again. "It's okay to ask for help. Rukia asked me to get Iba to put a set of rabbit ears on Gorou and have him take a picture, special, just for her. I did it, sir, even though I owe Iba two drinks now. If you need to vent or whatever, I really don't mind."
Byakuya shook his head angrily, and stared out the window.
Oh, well. He'd tried.
"My entire youth," Byakuya suddenly blurted out, "he lectured me constantly on the importance of propriety. As though I were some lit firework of embarrassing behavior, whose fuse might burn down at any moment and bring shame to the family. As though the acts of a small child would reflect poorly on him, somehow. And yet, now, he simply does and says whatever whimsy strikes him! He is a grown man! One would think he would have sympathy for my position, having held it himself for so long, but no!"
Renji stared at his captain, eyes wide.
"There is no rhyme or reason to which parts of my life he approves of, and which he disdains! I was so prepared to shield Rukia from his censure, and yet, he performs a complete about-face and decides to approve of her. I am happy, of course, but I cannot find myself relieved, out of fear that this is all some complicated game that he is playing, like when he compliments my kimono, only to test if I remember it was a gift from himself. He comments on the new plantings in the gardens and the sake I serve at dinner, and says absolutely nothing about the way I have run the Clan for the last fifty years!"
Byakuya stood up and paced over to the window restlessly. "The thing that vexes me the most," he growled, "the thing I can make neither heads nor tails of, is the tennis instructor," he waved his hands, a thing that Renji had never seen him do before. "Why must he accompany us to everything? He is clearly not a man of culture, and yet Grandfather insists on it! I am quite sure he is… what is it Rukia calls it? 'Trolling' me? But why? Is it revenge for my marriage to Hisana?"
"Er," said Renji, as a flood of fear washed over him. He had figured that Byakuya would put one and one together eventually, but that didn't mean he wanted to be there when it happened.
"Hisana did not have the pedigree, true, but she always comported herself with refinement. This Sugita fellow is a… a buffoon! I wonder if Aunt Azami told Grandfather about the time I made her take tea with you."
Renji made a vague grumble of agreement. Maybe he could just shrug and play dumb. What a mystery, eh, Captain? I guess we'll just never know.
"He is very good at tennis, do not mistake me, and he seems a nice enough fellow, I just don't see what value he brings to a social event."
"He seems to enjoy himself," Renji suggested gently.
"That is no reason to invite someone to a party!"
I have to do this, Renji decided. Byakuya needed to know, and there were so many, so much worse ways to find out. He supposed the absolute worst thing that could happen was that Byakuya could try to kill him. It's not like that hadn't happened before. "Well, maybe Captain Kuchiki enjoys having him there."
Byakuya frowned. "I feel like you are hinting at something, Abarai. Did my grandfather say something to you? Or Sugita himself? You and he seem to be cut from similar cloth, as it were."
Why did he have to say that? Renji sucked in a deep breath. "Look, Choei is the one who pointed it out to me, but he's too big a coward to tell you."
Byakuya narrowed his eyes, and then walked over to the office door and opened it. Byakuya stared at Renji for a long moment, then leaned out and actually yelled "FOURTH SEAT KUCHIKI!"
Renji blinked. He wasn't sure he had ever heard the captain yell before. Byakuya looked rather surprised at himself, as well. Renji would never say it out loud, but he had a feeling that after the week Byakuya had been having, a good old-fashioned holler probably felt pretty good.
There was the sound of a door slamming open down the hall and the pounding of feet, before Kuchiki skidded into the doorway in a bowing position. "Sir, yes, sir!"
"Not bad," Abarai nodded in approval. He knew it had been a good idea to introduce Choei to Iba.
"Come in," Byakuya said, shutting the door behind Kuchiki.
Kuchiki shot Renji a nervous glance. Renji could only manage a wan smile in return. He did feel bad about pulling Choei under the cart with him, but he was pretty sure that Byakuya would not murder one of his cousins. Or at least he might hesitate long enough for Choei to get a running start.
"Abarai tells me," Byakuya said slowly, "that you know why our esteemed Grandfather insists on the presence of his unseemly tennis coach at all times."
Choei glared at Renji, his face screwed up with righteous rage at this betrayal.
"He should know," Renji hissed, even though Byakuya was standing right there.
Choei's nose scrunched. Renji could tell he was going through the same thought process he had a few minutes earlier. "It's really more of a… a theory, sir," he waffled.
Renji cleared his throat.
"You agreed with me!" Choei wailed. "You should tell him! You can actually take him in a fight!"
"I can not," Renji replied, "and it's your family. I've never even had a grandfather!"
"Gentlemen," Byakuya interrupted crisply. "I do not care which of you tells me, but I want to know."
Renji and Choei locked eyes for a tense moment. Renji could tell that Choei agreed with the necessity of this, but his self-preservation skills were too strong. Then again, Renji could always get a new job, but Choei couldn't exactly get a new family. Also… Renji was Byakuya's vice-captain. He had to do it. Renji heaved a huge sigh. "Fine, sir, but please remember that I am telling you this out of my great loyalty to you and also because Fourth Seat Kuchiki is a big baby."
"Noted," Byakuya replied.
"Your grandfather is obviously…" Renji waved his hands helplessly, "with Sugita."
Byakuya blinked. "Yes, and the question is why."
Renji closed his eyes painfully. "What I mean to say is… they are together. Romantically."
Silence filled the office. And then, slowly, it also began to fill with reiatsu. "Lieutenant Abarai. How dare you insinuate-"
"It's pretty obvious, Captain," Choei finally decided to be helpful. "Once you see it. And haven't you noticed how happy Grandfather seems?"
"You are too young to have known Grandmother," Byakuya said stiffly. "She was the finest of women, and Grandfather loved and honored her."
"No one is doubting that, sir," Choei said gingerly. "But she's been gone for literally a hundred years. He must've gotten lonely."
"But he is attracted to women, is my point," Byakuya went on.
Both Renji and Choei fidgeted uncomfortably.
"My honored stepmother has told me at least a thousand times," Choei said mildly, "that a noble marriage is like a garden, where familial love may bloom from the efforts of those who are dedicated to cultivating it."
A strange look came over Byakuya's face, like he'd just taken a hit on the spot of an old wound. Someone had said those words to him before, Renji strongly suspected.
Byakuya's reiatsu began to die down. His face didn't change. He looked stuck.
"Y'know, sir," Renji said gently, trying to ease him out of his stupor, "some folks just fall in love with who they fall in love with, gender notwithstanding. Havin' a boyfriend now doesn't mean anything at all about his relationship with your grandmother." He swallowed. This was it. Either he was going to get Senbonzakura-ed, or he wasn't. "Sir," he added, for good measure.
"I am familiar with the concept of bisexuality, thank you, Lieutenant," Byakuya snapped back to himself, and despite his irritable tone, Renji knew that he was going to get to see another day. "As you say, you have never undergone the mortifying ordeal of having a grandparent, but one generally prefers to think of them as fully clothed at all times, and that the only temptation of the body they experience is the desire to eat their dinner sometime in the middle of the afternoon."
Choei nodded in firm agreement.
Renji shrugged. "Well. You might prefer that, but he's still a person." Why? Why did he always say things like that? Why couldn't he ever quit while he was ahead?
Fortunately, Byakuya just regarded him coolly for a moment and decided to pretend he hadn't heard it. "Could you two go… fight each other? Or something? I require solitude to process this."
Renji and Choei skedaddled.
Two hours later, Byakuya returned home. His head was still swimming.
He was having difficulty processing anything. In retrospect, Cousin Choei was correct: once you had seen it, it made sense. Abarai must think him a complete dimwit. Same-sex marriages were much less common among the nobility than the general populace of Soul Society, simply for reasons of logistics: noble marriage was for procreation, not for love. There were certainly those who practiced it anyway, as well as those who denounced it. As far as Byakuya was concerned, if one had the political capital and wished to squander it on a love-match, that was their business. That's certainly what he had done. He, personally, had never felt a particular attraction to a man, but he'd never felt a particular attraction to a woman, either, aside from Hisana. If she had happened to be male, he doubted it would have changed anything, his feelings, or the actions that followed.
Byakuya knew, though, that he was fixated on these surface thoughts, at his failure at social interactions, because to do otherwise meant he had to grapple with the deeper problem. His grandfather had a boyfriend.
Byakuya usually dealt with distressing thoughts by rolling them around in his head for a while without actually thinking about them. Once his brain had smoothed the idea enough, like an oyster turning an annoying grain of sand into a pearl, he could properly contemplate it, and decide on a course of action.
It wasn't working. The thought was red-hot. He did not like having it in his brain.
He needed to talk about it. With another person. And as circumstance would have it, for the first time in fifty years, he actually had another person with whom he could talk about his problems.
Byakuya found Rukia sitting in the garden with Shizue. The two of them were hunched over a book of some sort, chatting animatedly. Byakuya honestly hated to interrupt them when they seemed to be getting along so well, but he didn't know when else he would have a chance to speak privately with his sister.
"Welcome home, Brother!" Rukia looked up, her eyes sparkling. "Was everything alright at the Sixth?"
Byakuya had expected this and he had even coordinated his story with Abarai before departing. "Yes, the meeting went well. Abarai's rupture turned out to be minor and easily fixable. He said to pass on that it should have no effect on your plans this evening."
Rukia rolled her eyes indulgently and shook her head. "I hope you didn't give him too hard a time."
"Of course not," Byakuya sniffed. "These things happen. It is part of the reason there are two of us. You know, of course, that your own captain would do the same for you, and that you should never hesitate to ask when you need his assistance."
Rukia grinned. "Well, everyone had a lovely afternoon, so I hope you didn't worry about any of us."
"I had a coffee!" Shizue announced, her eyes bright and terrifying.
Rukia held her fingers a scant centimeter apart. "A very small coffee. It was mostly milk and caramel."
"I am glad you had fun," Byakuya replied. "Rukia, I hate to interrupt, I would like to speak with you."
"Of course," Rukia agreed, shifting the book to Shizue's lap and getting to her feet.
"There's no chance that Grandfather is lurking somewhere out here?" Byakuya asked, once they had set foot on the path that led out to the old teahouse. "He also returned, I assume?"
"Yes, a little before us," Rukia nodded. "I think he's in the Hall of Arms, showing the antique swords to Coach Jukou."
Byakuya cringed at the familiar address.
"Sorry! 'Mr. Sugita'," Rukia corrected herself.
Byakuya wanted to get a sufficient distance from the house before he broached The Topic. "What was that book you and Shizue were looking at? It wasn't one of those depraved things the Shinigami Women's Association puts out, was it?"
"Hmm?" Rukia's cheeks went pink. "Oh, those! No, of course not, Brother!" She looked at him sideways as though he were being very silly. "It was the photobook from the one year I attended Shin'ou. I never actually got one, but recently Lieutenant Hinamori found an extra somewhere and gave it to me. She said she thought I'd like to have it. Shizue was asking what shinigami school was like, so I pulled it out."
Byakuya looked down at his sister curiously. "I thought you did not have positive associations with Shin'ou."
Rukia's face turned up to his, surprised. Did she think he did not pay attention to these things?
"I… didn't have a good time while I was there," Rukia said slowly. "But lately, when I think back on that time… I guess I feel more generous toward myself." She chuckled. "I wasn't even going to look at it. I only accepted it to be polite. Then Momo reminded me how much Renji looked like a big clumsy Great Dane in those days, all hands and feet and elbows, so of course I had to take a flip-through." She made a small, faraway smile. "There weren't very many pictures of me in it, but I was smiling in all of them. Imagine that."
Byakuya seemed to recall owning similar books from his own tenure at school. He wasn't sure he had looked through them since, although he did recall that Shiba Miyako had drawn a large, comical picture of herself making a victory sign on the inside cover of one of them.
"That's not what you wanted to talk about, though, is it?" Rukia asked knowingly.
Byakuya glanced back toward the house. He suspected they were far enough away from prying ears. "Sister. What I am about to tell you may shock and disquiet you-"
"You found out that Grandfather and Mr. Sugita engage in discreet romantic activities."
Byakuya's mouth dropped open. "How did you know?" he gasped. "Did my degenerate vice-captain-"
Rukia scoffed. "Brother, here's a tip. When Renji sniffs out discreet romantic activities, they aren't that discreet."
"It is only a suspicion, we have no-"
"I asked Shizue, she confirmed it."
"She knows? She is but a child!"
"Brother," Rukia said sternly. "Just because Grandfather is… nominally… subtle about his relationship, doesn't mean he's ashamed of it. Shizue says Sugita is like an uncle to them. Well, an uncle who is also her tennis coach."
Byakuya glowered.
Rukia stretched her hand out to brush a bunch of wisteria dangling from a trellis. "But I understand that you feel hurt and upset."
The wisteria hit Byakuya at a much more inconvenient level, and he had to push it out of the way to avoid getting hit in the face as he passed under it. "Don't you feel the same?"
Rukia waggled her head to one side. "I'm mad at him for thinking he could just not tell you. As far as Grandfather having a boyfriend, it doesn't bother me. Good for him, I suppose."
"'Good for him'?! Rukia, what sort of behavior is it for a man of his age and character to take up with a- an athletic advisor! My understanding is that the Sugita family is landed gentry, but they are Rukon nobles. It does not seem that Grandfather has any intention of marrying the man, and I cannot decide if that makes it better or worse."
Rukia shrugged. "Grandfather already went through his arranged marriage. He fathered two children and buried them and then he raised you. He headed the clan for three centuries and served in the Gotei at the same time. He's retired now. He doesn't have any interest in going through the political circus of another marriage, he just wants to be with the person who makes him happy."
"But the impropriety-!"
Rukia stopped walking. "Brother. If the issue were impropriety, you could just go yell at him, but you can't. You're hurt because he's moved on."
"You do not understand because you never met your grandmother-"
Rukia held up a hand. "I do understand, because you've told me about Grandmother, and it's clear how much she meant to you. And from the way you tell it, they did love each other, even if they weren't passionate about it. But this isn't about Grandmother, either, is it?"
Byakuya stared at his sister blankly. "Who else could it possibly be about?"
Rukia looked up, possibly at a cloud, or a bird, or a cherry tree. She pushed her hair behind one ear, and it immediately flopped forward again. "When a person loses someone they love… well, there are lots of different ways to react. Some people distract themselves with work or art or self-improvement. Some people pursue shallow relationships that aren't meant to last, so they can practice feeling again, even though they're afraid to get hurt. Some people are able to find new love right away. Most people do one or the other of these things, I think. But some people don't. Some people have one love, and they don't want another one after that."
"Why should it not be thus?" Byakuya asked. "Once one has experienced true love, why would one settle for anything less?"
Rukia's eyes softened and she looked at him with an expression Byakuya had never seen her make at him before. It was an expression that his grandmother and his father and his wife had made at him, from time to time. It was pure, unalloyed fondness. Byakuya's joints suddenly locked in horror. No one had looked at him that way in fifty years.
"You're a rarity, Brother," Rukia replied. "Most people can't live like that. They move on because they must. That's why all our aunts and Grandfather and the branch family heads are always pressuring you to remarry. They think you're being stubborn or flaunting your power or… I don't know what they think."
"I do not see what my grandfather's dalliances have to do with my remarrying."
"Because if he mourned his wife until his own time came to an end, that would make you feel justified in doing the same."
Byakuya felt cold rage surge through him. Of all people, he thought that Rukia, Hisana's very sister would understand. "Then, you, too, think I am a fool? You think Hisana is dead and gone and therefore I should forget her?"
"I don't think that at all!" Rukia protested. "I think you shouldn't remarry, but not because I think it's disloyal to Hisana. I think you shouldn't because you don't want to. I don't think anyone has any business telling you how to grieve, and I wish everyone would just leave you alone about it."
Relief flooded through him. I have become weak, he realized. A year ago, I had fully hardened my heart against this woman, and now I find I would be devastated if she thought my behavior foolish.
"That being said," Rukia went on, "I don't think it's fair to deny Grandfather his happiness, either."
Byakuya was silent. He could ignore it when Abarai said things like this to him, but his sister was a different story.
"You can dislike the tennis instructor, if you want," Rukia pointed out. "You're perfectly welcome to not like him as a person."
Byakuya frowned thoughtfully. "I think I do like him, though," he declared.
Rukia blinked in surprise. "You do?"
"Well, yes," Byakuya replied. "Obviously, he is not the sort of person I would select for my grandfather. He is far too young, and goodness knows what they possibly talk about once the topic of tennis is exhausted. But on his own merits, he seems to be very good at his chosen profession. Not only is he extremely skilled and knowledgeable of the sport, but his love of it is infectious. He is quite dutiful in his daily practice, and both my cousin and grandfather have excelled under his tutelage."
Rukia stared at him for a long time, her eyes narrowed. Byakuya wondered what she was thinking. Finally, she looked away, tossing her hair. "In that case, you know what the best possible way to drive Grandfather crazy would be?"
"I am, as they say, all ears."
"Thoroughly approving of his boyfriend."
Byakuya stopped midstep. He contemplated the idea. Much of his playbook in terms of subtly expressing his contempt for others had actually come from watching Ginrei, although he was always picking up new tricks wherever he could. He knew that Rukia also had a great talent for insultry, but had been under the impression that her expertise was heavier on the contempt and lighter on the subtlety. This, however. This could work. He could just picture his grandfather's face, contorted with ire, but unable to level a single complaint.
"My sister," he said, his voice swelling with pride. "I think you might be a genius."
"Of course I am," Rukia preened, before flashing him a mischievous grin.
"Rukia," Byakuya said.
"Hmm?" Rukia looked at him with curious eyes.
Have you ever been in love?
Byakuya had no idea why the question had just popped into his head. The way she had spoken of it had just seemed...so well-considered. He would never ask Rukia such a personal thing. It was absolutely none of his business. And yet, it felt as though he could ask and she would not be angry. She might not answer, but she would not mind the question.
Byakuya held this feeling in his heart for a long moment. He did not need to ask. It was enough to know that he could.
"You are also very wise," he said instead. "Thank you."
Rukia looked at him skeptically. "I understand that you have decided how you would like to feel about this matter, but you're still going to have to go through the process of convincing yourself that you feel that way, and it's not going to be easy."
"You are being too wise," Byakuya informed her. "Stop it."
Rukia grinned again. "You know I am always here whenever you just need to complain about Grandfather. Venting is good for you, I think."
Byakuya frowned. He was still trying not to think about how he had vented all over Abarai in their office that afternoon. "Is it?"
"I think it is. Also, you're very funny and I enjoy it when you make fun of people."
Byakuya stared at her. Never in his life had anyone told him he was funny before. He was, of course, he knew it. But no one had ever told him before. Hisana laughed at his humorous antics, but she had never complimented him on them. Rukia was also very funny, in his opinion, so clearly, her taste was well-informed.
"Speaking of making fun of people…" he said, as they rounded the old teahouse at the bottom of the garden.
"You want to see the goofy pictures of Renji in my Academy yearbook?"
"Desperately."
"There's one where he was trying to jump out of the window of the zanjutsu dojo and got stuck halfway. I was thinking of making a copy of it and sending it to him as a memo. Would you consider that an improper use of the inter-company mail system?"
His sister truly was a genius.
