"You want to what?"
"I know you love the White Lotus, Grandson, but I've had a long day and I don't even eat sushi anymore-"
"They have other options, Grandfather!"
Suddenly and unexpectedly, Ginrei smiled. It was a kind smile that made his mustache curve upward and his eyes crinkle around the edges. "I am honestly sorry, Byakuya. I know how hard it is to get reservations. But Shizue has asked me if we could have a little grandfather-to-granddaughter talk and I get the feeling it's important."
Byakuya opened his mouth and then closed it again. It had been a long time since he had seen such softness in his grandfather's face. "I understand," he replied softly. Against his better judgment, he made another attempt to lighten the moment with humor. "At least Aunt Tsukasa still enjoys fine cuisine."
"Oh, no, she painted all afternoon and she's out like a light. She'll be sawing logs until dawn."
Byakuya's heart sank. Aside from the party tomorrow, dinner out was the one thing he had been looking forward to the most this week.
Ginrei clapped him on the shoulder. "To be honest, you've been a great host, but you deserve a little break. And spending the afternoon at work doesn't count. C'mon, it shouldn't be too much trouble for a young, popular fellow like you to rustle up a few friends for a last minute dinner invite!"
"Oh," Byakuya said slowly. "Of course. No trouble at all."
"You want me and Renji to what?"
"He never told me what his plans were for you this evening, if they are set in stone, you may forget I said anything-"
Rukia tilted her head to the side and favored him with a very Hisana-like grin. "Our plans are carved into the bedrock of the earth and the fact that I am even considering this is a testament to how much I love the idea of going to the fanciest, most exclusive restaurant in town with you. And Renji."
Byakuya scowled. "Obviously, I would rather just take you, but it would be very rude of me to interrupt plans that I asked him to make."
"Mm-hmm," Rukia agreed, obviously not believing him in the slightest.
"Abarai has really gone above and beyond lately," Byakuya excused. "Also, I stabbed him yesterday. I find myself somewhat in his debt."
"Mm-hmm," Rukia repeated, pulling out her phone. "As delighted as I am by all of this, why don't you just ask some of your other friends? I can ask Captain Ukitake if he and Captain Kyouraku are free? Or one of your frenemies from the Orchid Society?"
"I suspect I do not want to know what a 'frenemy' is." He took a deep breath. "I have a great affection for Captain Ukitake but… socializing with him requires a certain reserve of energy that I am not sure I currently possess. I am sure that sounded horrible. Perhaps I should just cancel and stay home."
"Of course not," Rukia replied. "And that's a very valid feeling. You need a friend to hang out with, not a former mentor. Look, I'm just going to text Renji and see what he thinks. Oh. Huh. He just texted me." She fiddled with her phone for a moment before a huge, awful grin began to spread across her face. "Go get dressed, Brother. I found you a dinner date."
Fifteen minutes earlier…
"Finally!" Renji gasped as he spotted the sign for Koshino & Associates, Fine Couture, tucked back between a gem dealer and a purveyor of "luxury fruit", whatever that meant. Renji was generally pretty good at navigating the twisting streets of the Seireitei, but the high-end shopping district where Koshino did his business was out of his usual orbit. To top it off, they were doing a ton of road work north of Ginkgo Street, and he'd had to take a detour. This, of course, would never have happened if he wasn't already running late.
Trying his best not to look like an out-of-breath, disheveled mess, Renji stepped inside the shop. He was surprised at how… empty it was. Instead of being packed with bolts of cloth and racks of pre-made clothing like the shops he tended to frequent, there were a grand total of five (absolutely magnificent) outfits on display, and a few small displays of rich fabric swatches and sample embellishments. Mostly, there was a table loaded down with what looked like design books. The entire shop was fairly small, although there was a curtain in the rear. This must just be display space, Renji decided. The interesting stuff must go on in the back.
"How may I be of service to you, sir?" a neatly dressed apprentice greeted him.
"Er," Renji managed smoothly. "I'm, uh, Lieutenant Abarai of the Sixth. Captain Kuchiki's adjutant. I have, um, a thing to pick up."
"Oh, wonderful!" the shop assistant clasped their hands together. "Please come back to the fitting area, so that we may ensure that no final alterations are needed."
"I'm sure it's fine," Renji smiled hopefully.
"Oh, sir, we could never let you depart our shop without ensuring a perfect and flattering fit."
Renji sighed and checked the time. He wasn't actually as late as he thought. He could probably squeeze it in. "All right," he agreed.
"Just a moment, sir," the shop assistant bade him. "Mr. Koshino is already seeing another client in the dressing area. Let me go check on their progress."
Renji tried to avoid groaning. This place was too fancy for groaning.
The apprentice stuck their head through the curtain and said something in a hushed voice.
"Who is it?" Mr. Koshino's sharp voice rang clearly through the shop.
Mumble.
"Oh, excellent! Send him back, I need help talking sense into this man!"
Renji blinked.
The salesperson pulled the curtain back and favored Renji with a slightly forced smile. "This way, Lieutenant. I'll just go fetch your shihakushou!"
Renji shrugged and ducked his way past the curtain. He honestly had no clue what he was getting himself into, but he hadn't got where he was in Soul Society by hesitating.
He was immediately assaulted by the diminutive tailor shaking a pair of sewing shears in his face. "There he is! The tall and fearless Lieutenant Abarai, who waits until the last minute to pick up his beautiful outfit that I made my apprentice slave over for many hours!"
"It's hardly the last minute," Renji excused, holding up his hands and trying to stay away from the business end of the shears. "I definitely could have shown up tomorrow."
"It doesn't matter! Your arrival is serendipitous! We are in need of a third opinion, and you are clearly a man with an instinct for style. What do you think?" Koshino stepped to the side, and flourished his arms.
Behind him was a small, raised platform surrounded by mirrors. On it stood a very grumpy Captain Hitsugaya.
"Whoa," Renji managed.
"I feel stupid," Hitsugaya grumbled.
"You look incredible," Renji replied. It wasn't a lie. The captain of the Tenth was in a full kamishimo - hakama of a woven silk fabric so dark it was nearly black, with a matching kataginu. The kimono underneath was a pearly greyish-green, like the sea on a cloudy day. The cloth of the kimono was so light and fine, it could have been made of actual water. Where the lining of the kataginu was visible, it was a beautiful forest-green and gold brocade. Renji recalled Rukia explaining to him that it was considered very classy to add a splashy lining to an otherwise conservative color palette. This, apparently, let the world know you were rich enough to afford nice stuff, but refined enough to wear it sparingly. As an additional note of glitz, two golden embroidered dragons reared rampant on either lapel of the kataginu, where the family mon would usually be placed.
Hitsugaya adjusted the collar as though it were irritating him. "You don't need to be polite, Abarai."
"I'm not actually very good at fake compliments," Renji frowned, squinting at the outfit. Koshino had definitely employed some clever tricks of geometry. The wings of the kataginu broadened Hitsugaya's shoulders. The hakama ties were narrow, higher on the waist than usual, creating the illusion of height. The vertical stance of the dragons drew the eye upward. It was impressive work.
"I tell you, you are magnificent! A prince among men! You will have betrothal offers from six different Kuchiki women by the end of the evening!"
"I keep telling you, I don't want that!" Hitsugaya announced grimly.
The assistant arrived with a neatly folded shihakushou in their arms. "Disrobe, please," they firmly instructed.
Without even thinking, Renji started to shrug off his kosode. "You need to do something about your hair," he informed Hitsugaya.
Hitsugaya and Koshino turned two pairs of bright blue eyes on him.
"Look, that get-up is doing a ton of heavy lifting as far as making you look like an actual grown-up, and the delinquent spikes are ruining the entire effect."
Koshino stroked his chin. "You have a point, Lieutenant."
"I… look like a grown-up?" Hitsugaya gaped. His eyes danced briefly over Renji's chest. "You think I look like a grown-up?"
"You can keep it kinda spiky, I think," Renji decided. "You just need to soften it up a little." The attendant held out his new shitagi and Renji slipped it over his shoulders. Dang, expensive silk felt good against your skin. "Ditch the hair gel. Use a cream mousse instead, or maybe a hair paste, something with beeswax."
"A… a what?"
"Never mind, I'll just text Matsumoto."
"Do not text Matsumoto!"
"Well, who else is going to do your hair? I mean, you can come over to the Eleventh with me tomorrow afternoon, if you want. Yumichika might have some better ideas, but then you have to hear him scream about Ikkaku's cuticles. I think Matsumoto's your best bet."
"Who is this Matsumoto?" Koshino asked as Renji changed his pants.
"She's my adjutant," Hitsugaya admitted. "You can never meet her."
"She knows all the Gotei gossip that's worth knowing and she's gorgeous," Renji explained.
"I must meet her," Koshino murmured.
"I'm going to tell her to go for a very light touch on the make-up, nobles are into subtlety," Renji decided. "Sort of a Kira look, but without all the crap he does to minimize his eye bags. You have really nice skin, I bet you don't even need foundation."
"I- er- it's probably because I get a lot of sleep!"
"Ah, sleep is so important for so many aspects of beauty!" Koshino sighed. "You must be a man of strict discipline, Captain, but the result is clearly worth it."
"Um, thank you? I suppose?"
"So, are you keeping the outfit, or must I start from scratch? We have, what? Twenty hours? I am not so young anymore, but I can still do it!"
"Well, I, er, that is-!"
"There," the shop attendant said, fixing the cord on Renji's haori, and smoothing the royal purple lapels. "Please take a look." They gestured to a second platform.
Renji hopped up and examined himself in the mirror. "Nice!" he declared, trying to check himself out from all angles. He had always known that he was pretty lucky to have a body type that was well-suited to a shihakushou, but a bit of extra tailoring and a better grade of fabric made a dramatic difference. He'd seen Ohno and Kuchiki in this monkey suit before and knew that it could make anyone look better, but he honestly wasn't prepared to see himself clad in the traditional outfit of the Kuchiki elite. He looked- well, he looked good. He looked really good, tall and broad-shouldered, but also almost… distinguished? Like someone whose opinions were worth listening to. Like someone who could speak for Captain Kuchiki if he wasn't there. Like someone who could tell Lady Kuchiki Rukia that she looked lovely, and it would cause her cheeks to light up pink and pretty. Suddenly, Renji felt his eyes burning. What the heck? What the heck was any of this? Captain Kuchiki himself had insisted he put on this outfit. What the heck?
"Look at that!" Hitsugaya exclaimed. "He just puts on a uniform and looks like that! I'm going to send my regrets. I can't go to this party."
Renji spun around, clenching his fist. "You can if you wear that outfit! All it takes is confidence! The only difference between us and nobles is that they aren't afraid to walk around in fancy outfits! Rukia had to learn to do this when she was hardly more than a kid and she didn't even have anyone to hype her up! We gotta do this! For her!"
Hitsugaya cocked an eyebrow. "I am not going within a thousand meters of… you and Kuchiki's entire thing… but I am sure she will accept a heartfelt note of regrets from me."
Renji scrunched his nose. He hadn't wanted to do this but- "Momo's going all out. You know that, right? She's really excited about all of this."
"Who is Momo?" Koshino demanded breathlessly.
Hitsugaya went pale. "I'll tell her I fell ill."
Renji shrugged. "You could do that. She might even believe you. But then you would miss the chance to see her face when she sees you in… that." Leaving Hitsugaya floundering, Renji turned to Koshino. "Hey, is it okay if I take a selfie?" He mostly wanted to send it to Yumichika, so he could get a head start thinking about make-up options. He briefly considered sending it to Rukia as well. She certainly didn't deserve it, but he wasn't exactly good at staying mad at her.
"Indulge yourself, sir," Koshino granted. "I wish more people would photograph themselves in my shop's creations."
Renji rummaged through his discarded kosode until he found his phone. He snapped a quick shot of himself from his best angle, and then swiftly flipped the camera and took a shot of Hitsugaya.
"Abarai!" Hitsugaya howled.
"What? Now you can stay home and Momo will still get to see how good you would have looked."
Hitsugaya grumbled something inaudible and possibly obscene. "Fine. I will go. I am going to show Matsumoto that picture from the year you visited my grandmother's house at New Year's and you had to wear Kira's uncle's kimono! Don't think I won't!"
"She's seen worse," Renji replied loftily. Then he relaxed and gave Hitsugaya a smile. "You want me to send you this picture?"
Hitsugaya frowned for a moment. "I think I might have been making a stupid face. Could… could you take another one?"
"Oh, yeah, of course! Uh, on one condition!"
"What is it?" Hitsugaya asked suspiciously.
"Can I send it to Rukia?"
"Good gravy, why?"
"Oh, for trolling purposes. She wanted to see a picture of me in my new outfit and I thought it would be funny to send her a picture of you instead. I'll send you the picture of me and you can pull the same trick on Momo if you want."
"It's a deal," Hitsugaya agreed.
Hitsugaya composed himself into a very captainly pose and Renji snapped a picture. "You really are making that work," he noted as he pulled up his texts. "I was not joking about the hair, though."
"I'll… talk to Matsumoto," Hitsugaya conceded.
"I did it! I picked up my uniform!" Renji typed and then attached the picture. He waited 30 seconds for maximum comedic effect, before adding "Look who I ran into at Koshino's!"
Rukia didn't always respond to her texts immediately, but this time, the "someone is typing" symbol popped up right away. Renji grinned in anticipation. The text popped up. Renji stared at it blankly for a moment, before grinning again. "Hey, Captain!" he laughed. "Rukia wants to know what you're doing tonight!"
Koshino looked absolutely delighted.
"It's a good thing you're catching up on your tatts," said Rukia as she and Renji walked out the gates that demarcated the Kuchiki property, "because I think you earned yourself another set of stripes today."
"For what?" Renji snorted. "Managing to pick up my dress uniform?"
"No! For telling Byakuya that his grandfather likes to smooch his tennis instructor and living to tell the tale."
"Oh, that," Renji replied, sounding a little embarrassed. "I think Captain feels really bad about stabbing me, and I'm still riding on that extra good will."
Rukia ignored his attempt to brush it off. "Thank you," she said, very sincerely. "I'd been waffling on whether or not to tell him, but I think you made the right call."
"He's… doing okay, then? He took the news a little hard."
Rukia nodded. "He'll be okay." She cracked a grin. "I'm really glad he ended up getting a night off, though. I think he needs it."
"You know, you're supposed to be having a night off, too. So let's stop talking about your brother and grandfather, just for a bit."
"Yes," Rukia agreed. "Renji, I am so ready to get tattoos! I've been thinking about it all day. I had a big snack and drank plenty of water!" She flexed her bicep. "Don't get me wrong- I'm really excited about my party, but getting inked with you is the best lieutenant present I could possibly get."
Rukia looked up at him, expecting to see the soft look he often gave her when she said things like that. Instead, he was looking away, his face troubled. Why did he look so nervous? It's not like he hadn't done this a hundred times. "What's up with you?" she demanded.
"Um…" he breathed out. "How would you feel if… I didn't get my stripes today?"
Rukia stopped in her tracks. "What?"
"Look, just hear me out-"
"Renji, you promised we would do this together! Why... why…?" she could feel her voice going shrill, but she couldn't help it. How could he-? Why would he-? "Is it because you got stabbed? We can reschedule! I really don't mind, it's more important to me that-"
"Rukia." Renji's hands clapped down on her shoulders and their comforting weight brought her back to herself. "Calm down, calm down. We are definitely getting tattoos together. Today. The Head Captain himself couldn't keep me from getting tattoos with you, okay?"
"Then what are you talking about?" she asked, utterly perplexed.
Renji sighed and gestured at himself. "You know the stripes are all for Zabimaru, right?"
"Right."
"And a thing about Zabimaru is that they're… a mix, but not a blend, see? There's still the baboon part and the snake part and the me part. And the stripes help me be part of the other two, but it's okay to have some parts that are still just me, you see?"
Rukia regarded him skeptically. "I guess?"
"When you were talking about getting your tattoo the other day, I realized how bad I wanted a tattoo... for me. And I talked it over with Zabs, and they said it was okay, as long as I picked a piece of real estate they didn't care about."
Rukia blinked at him. She was still confused by all this, but he was so cute and babbling right now, she half wanted to let him keep going. "Why do you need my permission?" she asked. "It's your body, you can do what you want with it."
Renji pulled a piece of paper out of his kosode and unfolded it slowly. "Because… I went back and bothered Tenryuu and Yamashina. They worked this up for me, Tenryuu says she can do it." He thrust the paper at her. "Can't have tattoos on my outer arm, either, no room left, so I figured, inner arm for me, too."
Rukia gingerly took the paper and looked at it. It was a camellia, reminiscent of Squad Six's symbol. The linework was bolder and less delicate than her own snow drop design, a lightweight echo of his stripes. It was lit up in watercolor splashes of red and orange, almost like it was on fire. Made of fire. It was beautiful.
"I never considered a squad tattoo before," Renji was stammering. "Five meant nothing to me, certainly less than it meant to Izuru and Momo. And cripes, I didn't want to be that guy with an Eleven tattoo. But Six… I dunno, Ru, I never woulda thought it, but I just fit there. It's home. I can't-"
"This is perfect for you," Rukia cut him off, handing him the paper back.
"You don't mind?" he asked in a small voice.
"You're asking if I mind if we get coordinating tattoos?" She whacked him on the arm. "Of course I don't mind, you hecking dope!"
Renji looked like he had been hit in the back of the head with a polearm.
Rukia smiled at him, and then started walking again. Renji stood stupidly for a few seconds before dashing to catch up.
"Noble families are so weird," Rukia announced.
"Yeah, I've noticed," Renji replied wryly, clearly not sure where she was going with this.
"I mean, you're just stuck with them and you talk about them all the dang time and you're supposed to love them even though it's all just a coincidence of birth. Why the hell do they get clan sigil tattoos anyway? As if their family wasn't something completely beyond their control, something that just happened to them."
Renji scoffed. "You kinda just happened to me."
"That's right," Rukia agreed. "But since then, we've each had a million chances to never see each other again. And yet, here we are."
"Here we are," Renji echoed, a laugh in his voice. "That's certainly one way of putting it."
"And no matter how many more chances I get, I'm not gonna take any of 'em," Rukia declared. "I'm declaring you stuck with me. Forever. So why not go get some hecking tattoos about it?"
"You say that like you haven't realized that you're the one stuck with me," Renji muttered. He heaved a big sigh, and then looked down at her with that soft look she had been waiting for. "Ah, well. Nothing for it. Might as well get some hecking tattoos."
The evening was beautiful, so the White Lotus had opened up their terrace for dining. The air was fragrant from the big pots of spring flowers that had been set out, and a talented hostess plucking a koto covered the the muted hum of gentle conversation going on around them.
"-he said that he felt like he needed to make some practice outfits to get the feel for my measurements?" Hitsugaya explained, plucking at the frankly exquisite kimono he was currently wearing. "I am sure I underpaid him for them. He kept trying to give them to me. Finally, I just slipped one of his assistants some money."
"The man is insufferable," Byakuya agreed. "It would serve him right if you had not paid him at all."
Hitsugaya's face took on a pained look. "I couldn't do that! And to be honest, I could really use the nice outfits. You know, for special occasions."
"It is important for a captain to present a respectable appearance," Byakuya agreed. "That pattern is extremely flattering on you, by the way."
Hitsugaya's eyes widened, and he sat up a little straighter. "It's really comfortable, too! I had sort of thought that fancy clothes would be stiff and scratchy."
"Inferior ones are," Byakuya shrugged. "Or so I am told."
"Lord Kuchiki!" the head waiter, Noda, appeared at their table. The man had worked at the White Lotus for decades, and always gave superb service. "It is such an honor to have you, as usual. I was so sorry to hear your grandfather would not be able to join you."
"You know how the aged are, he tires very easily," Byakuya replied breezily. "He sends his regrets. Fortunately, it has afforded me the opportunity to introduce my colleague, Captain Hitsugaya, to your excellent cuisine."
Noda swept into a deep bow. "Welcome, Captain! It is our privilege to serve those who protect our city with such bravery!"
Hitsugaya looked genuinely taken aback at this token acknowledgment of his status. The man really needed to expand his dining repertoire from takeaway noodle shops.
"Will you be starting with sake this evening?" Noda offered. His eyes darted to Hitsugaya, and there was a sudden flash of panic.
Byakuya realized that, in contrast to several other Gotei captains who enjoyed putting their drunkenness on public record, he didn't actually know Hitsugaya's stance toward alcohol. "I don't recall, do you partake, Hitsugaya?" he asked as casually as possible.
"Er, no," Hitsugaya stammered. "But if you want to, it doesn't bother-"
"We are in the flush of new tea season, and I welcome the excuse to skip the sake," Byakuya cut him off. "Noda, if you will be so good, tell us which shincha you have to offer. However, you must know, I was down at Matayoshi's tea shop this afternoon, so I only wish to hear about your exclusives."
"Ah! Lord Kuchiki is so discerning, as always! I shall not beat around the bush-" Noda paused, just a moment, and Byakuya gave him the slightest of nods. The man's sense of humor was impeccable. "-we are the only place in the city where you shall find the first leaves from Sasanaki Tea Gardens. They are exquisite. We have other options, but I would be remiss in my duties if I let you start with anything else."
"You rarely lead me wrong, Noda," Byakuya agreed. "Let us begin there. We will be having the chef's choice for our meal this evening, please take the liberty of coordinating tea selections for us."
"It would be my utmost delight," Noda agreed and swept away.
Byakuya turned back to his dinner companion. Hitsugaya was regarding him with slightly squinted eyes. "Is something bothering you, Hitsugaya?"
"You thought that joke was funny, didn't you?" Hitsugaya accused.
Byakuya stiffened. "I admit. I have a weakness for a certain style of overly simplistic humor, told in a self-aware style for the purposes of-"
"No, no, that's not it!" Hitsugaya waved his hands. "You made that same face when Abarai made a joke the other day! I wasn't criticizing your sense of humor! I just… I realized that's how you laugh."
"It is how I express amusement. Laughing is an uncontrolled expression of emotion, a lapse of control over one's facial muscles. I can falsify laughter if the situation requires."
"Can you really?" Hitsugaya asked, shock evident in his voice.
"Ha ha ha," Byakuya falsified.
"That was super weird," Hitsugaya replied.
Byakuya frowned. "It was a very realistic expression of mirth. I have practiced extensively."
"Yeah, it was very convincing, except that you never laugh, you hardly even smile, so it was weird."
"Oh. You know, I had never considered that. I rarely have occasion to use it. Feel pride, Hitsugaya Toushirou, that you have borne witness to my mock mockery."
Byakuya did not hold a lack of control over one's facial muscles against most other people. It was something he had to do as the Head of the Kuchiki, but there was no need to judge someone like Hitsugaya for the wheezing snorts that were emanating from the vicinity of his nose. And it was a very funny turn of phrase.
"You know," Hitsugaya said, wiping at one of his eyes. "I do feel kinda proud."
"I wasn't too worried about it," Rukia observed, "but this really doesn't hurt at all. Doesn't feel like anything, really. Maybe I am very good at getting tattoos."
"Well," Yamashina replied, sitting back and examining his work for a moment. "I'm not sure how you haven't noticed this, but your arm is so cold that I can feel it through the needle."
From over to her left, Renji guffawed.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Rukia sputtered. "I… actually didn't realize. I'll see if I can get her to back off."
"It's fine," Yamashina chuckled. "I didn't want to complain, because you're taking the ink so easily. But, uh, yes, please, if it's not too much trouble. My fingertips are going a little numb."
"Speaking of too much trouble," Tenryuu grunted at her own client, "I thought you said Zabimaru was down with this."
Rukia glanced over. She had been trying not to stare at Renji too much. Since he was getting his left arm inked and she was getting her right, they'd situated themselves so they could see each other's progress. They each had one arm out of their kimono. Rukia's chest wrap covered what little of interest there was to see, but Renji's well-muscled shoulder and a triangular slice of tattooed torso were tantalizingly on display.
"They are," Renji groaned, sounding deeply annoyed. "They're just really excited."
"Well, they're being a pain," Tenryuu said pointedly, directing her scolding at Renji's arm.
Renji heaved a big sigh. "I didn't want to do this, but I think I gotta. Hold up for a minute, Tenryuu. Yamashina, you, too."
Rukia frowned. What the heck was he gonna do?
Renji screwed up his face. He didn't actually move, but there was a sudden sensation of throwing and then Zabimaru was shaking themself off like a wet dog at the other end of the room.
"My stars!" Yamashina exclaimed.
The great nue looked up and blinked two sets of golden eyes.
"That is not how I pictured them," Tenryuu drew out slowly.
That's funny, Rukia thought, because Zabimaru looked exactly like she had always pictured them. In fact, seeing Zabimaru brought back a vivid memory from her very early days in Rukongai, long before she met Renji. She had lived in an orphanage of sorts, really more of a source of exploitable child labor. An older girl who lived there used to tell stories before bed, stories of a horrible nue that would come out of the Wilds at night and perch on the roof of their house. It was too big to fit through the windows, but it crouched up there, thinking about the children inside and how tasty they were. If you ever laid eyes on it, it would curse you with bad luck for the rest of your time in Soul Society- the only way to escape it would be to die and be reborn. Rukia used to lay in her little pile of straw and squeeze her eyes shut, listening to the other girl's descriptions of slavering fangs and cold eyes until one night the beast made its way into her dreams. It had roared and spit poison and then it devoured the horrible people who ran the workhouse. Rukia had combed her fingers through its thick, stripey fur and buried her face in its shoulder. The next night, she ran away. That was the first time she had run away, but it wouldn't be the last, not by a longshot.
Trust Renji's subconscious to project his strength into the shape of an Inuzuri boogeyman.
"There, you obnoxious clown, now you can see!" Renji barked at his nue. "Get a good look and then settle down."
Zabimaru unceremoniously elbowed Tenryuu out of the way and snuffled at Renji's arm. "It is good," the baboon mouth declared in a deep, growly voice that Rukia heard in her heart as well as her ears. "You have your own marks now. We like this."
"Perhaps we will put it on ourselves, too!" the snake mouth exclaimed.
"It ain't done yet, so be patient," Renji warned, palming the baboon head and gently pushing it away. He sounded exactly like an exasperated parent when he talked to his zanpakutou spirit. Rukia wondered if it had always been so, or if that was something that came along with bankai.
Zabimaru wound their way past Tenryuu, rubbing up against her in a very cat-like gesture. "Thank you, Tenryuu," they hummed, "for making our Renji look correct."
"Why do you always have to say it that way?" Renji grumbled.
"No problem, buddy," Tenryuu replied, scritching affectionately at their shoulder. Any ire she'd had toward them was completely gone. Zabimaru had clearly won her heart instantly.
The big nue stalked a wide circle around Rukia's chair and finally sat back on their haunches a few feet away from her, regarding her silently. Rukia wondered if she was supposed to do something. She glanced over at Renji, but he was just squinting at Zabimaru skeptically, like he was waiting for them to misbehave again.
"We told you that you would like it!" Zabimaru finally crowed. "You are so stubborn!"
Rukia thought they were yelling at her until the temperature around her abruptly dropped. "Sode no Shirayuki," she muttered almost silently. "Stop it. Please. People don't like that."
Slowly, the temperature crept back up.
Zabimaru laughed in duet, a nasal cackle over a grumbly chuckle.
"Don't be causing trouble over there," Renji warned.
"Hello, Rukia," said Zabimaru pleasantly.
"Hello, Zabimaru," Rukia replied.
"We like your tattoo," they continued. "It is going to be very beautiful."
"Thank you," Rukia replied.
"You would look very good with some stripes, as well."
"Zabimaru!" Renji roared.
"We are just saying!"
"Well, you've said it! Now, go lie down!"
Zabimaru didn't make any motion to move. Finally, the snaketail said, "Sode no Shirayuki is not a zanpakutou you can wrestle into submission. She is too good of a slitherer-outer. But she is always afraid of connecting to others. This is a victory for you, Kuchiki Rukia."
Rukia felt her own reiatsu flare, and suddenly, Zabimaru was blinking frost out of both their faces. "Feh! Ill-tempered demon!" Sullenly, they stalked over to the corner of the room, turned in a circle once, and lay down, curling the snaketail high on their back.
Tenryuu glanced over at them, but they just blinked their golden eyes at her. "You ready to go again?" she asked, turning back to Renji.
"In a sec," he said, leaning forward and peering over at Rukia curiously.
"You checkin' out my tit, Abarai?" Rukia accused.
"Shut up! You're looking real good over there."
"You, too! Your tit, I mean, I don't care about your tattoo."
Renji shook his head. "You see what I have to put up with?" he groused to Tenryuu.
He wasn't getting any sympathy from that quarter. "I'm sure you deserve it."
Renji didn't even wince as Tenryuu jammed her needle into his arm. He was still looking over at Rukia, a dumb little half-smile on his face. "Maybe. Maybe I do."
"And how fares your own sister lately?" Byakuya asked conversationally. "You were somewhat concerned for her a few weeks ago."
"Ah, she's pretty good," Hitsugaya said hesitantly. "I actually… well, I actually haven't seen much of her lately."
"She seemed happy enough to see you the other day," Byakuya frowned. "Is something amiss?"
"Well…" Hitsugaya drew out. "You remember when Outoribashi and I proctored Rukia's exam, right?"
"Of course."
"Afterward, he mentioned what a brilliant fight the two of them had-"
"It was a very good fight," Byakuya agreed. "Especially considering how tired Rukia must have been at the time. A rematch might go a very different way, I would think."
Hitsugaya eyed him warily. "Outoribashi also said that he was very impressed with Momo as a person overall. You know, he's friends with Hirako, and I guess they've been doing some intersquad stuff and he just thought she was wonderful and recovering so well from, you know, and also that she's a very good friend to Kira. And that maybe… maybe me fussing over her was just reminding her of the times when she wasn't doing so well. And that I should stop."
"Hmm," Byakuya frowned. It sounded suspect to him.
"Matsumoto had basically been telling me the same thing, but I guess maybe it hit a little different coming from someone who I'm not so close to."
"Lieutenants give advice, but one is not obligated to take it," Byakuya pointed out. "That is why they are the lieutenant."
"Well, in this case, I did, and Momo has stopped being mad at me, which is a plus. And now that I'm looking for it, she is doing really well. She goes out with her friends a lot and she's getting back into community theater and she's… trying to pitch a comic strip to the Bulletin? It's about a little penguin. It's cute."
"Do you feel that she no longer has time for you?"
"That's… not really it, at all. Because she invites me to these things all the time, Karaoke Brunch and Squad Five Experimental Jazz Night and I'm… I'm just not fun, Kuchiki. I… I never thought she was unhappy under Aizen, just busy and devoted to her job. But she's so much happier now, and I'm happy for her, but I don't know how to be part of that. I also can't believe how dumb I was."
"Squad Five Experimental Jazz Night sounds dreadful."
"My understanding is that Hirako makes elaborate alcohol concoctions upon request."
"Ah." Byakuya contemplated Hitsugaya's conundrum. He could certainly relate to a number of aspects of it.
"I was actually on the verge of chickening out of your party, except that Abarai reminded me of how much Momo loves getting dressed up and being fancy and how much she's looking forward to the whole thing."
Byakuya sat up a little straighter. "I shall have to commend Abarai the next time I see him, then."
Hitsugaya looked up, surprised.
"I should be very disappointed to not have your company," Byakuya clarified. "Why should you 'chicken out' in any case?"
"Just feeling self-conscious, I guess," Hitsugaya replied glumly.
"Do not," Byakuya replied. "It is a Gotei party. Captain Kyouraku will show up draped in something that would look better as a tablecloth. The Captain-Commander will wear some historical relic three hundred years out of date, to say nothing of whatever frilled, Western monstrosity his lieutenant dusts off. I do not even wish to contemplate what the Vizard captains will show up wearing. Rukia showed me your picture. You looked elegant and distinguished. You may wish to find something different to do with your hair, but aside from that, I would be pleased to be known as your acquaintance at any social event in the Seireitei."
Hitsugaya stared at him for a moment, and then gave a small smile. "Thanks, Kuchiki. That… helped. Weirdly."
"As for the other part of your problem, I think you are overthinking it. One is not required to share every interest in order to enjoy another's company, especially where there is mutual affection." He paused and took a sip of tea. "I am, I fear, also not fun, at least by your standards. I am extremely fortunate, however, that my sister sets aside time to spend with me. I am also exceedingly grateful that she does not invite me to accompany her to her personal social activities." He paused. "She did invite me to hear her play in a musical act with Lieutenant Hisagi once. It… was not as terrible as I thought it would be."
"So you're saying I should go to Karaoke Brunch."
"Absolutely not. But you should appreciate the fact that Hinamori is extending a branch- perhaps you just need to extend one in return. You play futsal, do you not? You could invite her to one of your matches."
"Momo never really liked playing football when we were kids."
"You are not asking her to play. Rukia regularly attends Squad Six's matches out of friendship for Abarai, although she tells me she does intend to start playing herself next season. Or, you said that Hinamori likes both theater and dressing like a civilized person- does she care for kabuki? My Third Seat is quite the aficionado, and I hear from him that there is much anticipated production of Kezori the Pirate opening later this month. I planned on getting tickets for Rukia and myself. If Hinamori is interested, I shall procure some for the both of you as well."
"That's… that's a really good idea, actually," Hitsugaya replied. "I'll… I'll ask. Thank you."
"I think it would be quite enjoyable to attend the theater with friends," Byakuya mused. "It has been a very long time since I have done so. My impression is that Rukia and Lieutenant Hinamori are fond of one another."
"Er," said Hitsugaya.
"They took a ceramics painting workshop together recently, I believe," Byakuya said. "I did not know that ceramics painting was competitive, but I hear that Rukia prevailed most conclusively over Lieutenant Hinamori."
"Rrrrright," Hitsugaya drew out.
"In any case," Byakuya went on, "Your sister wishes to spend time with you, and you wish to spend time with her. There is a small difficulty in finding activities of mutual interest. This might be one of the problems that is useful to name, so that there is no misunderstanding between you, and that you might further appreciate each other's efforts." It occurred to Byakuya that Rukia often made great efforts to meet him on his own ground. He was suddenly very glad he had eaten her noodles. Perhaps he should strive to be more open to her noodle overtures in the future.
"I never thought about it that way," Hitsugaya admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow. Thanks, Kuchiki."
"It is my pleasure," Byakuya replied, feeling very pleased to be both a supportive friend and source of brotherly wisdom.
"I mean it. You invited me out for a nice dinner, I really didn't mean to dump on you like that. I know you've got your own problems this week."
Byakuya considered this. "I have been an emotional mess this week. A 'trash fire,' as Rukia would put it. She and Renji have been embarrassingly supportive of me. I have no idea how I am ever going to claw my way out of their debt. I actually relish the opportunity to be helpful to someone else for once."
Hitsugaya snorted. "'Trash fire' seems a little strong, but you did just call your adjutant by his first name."
"You misheard. I would never."
"If you want to dump on me a little, I really don't mind."
Byakuya felt a strange, warm feeling in his chest. Fortunately, unlike some people who went about their daily life, having emotions all willy-nilly, Hitsugaya was a man who appreciated deportment. "Your offer is much appreciated, Hitsugaya Toushirou," he replied. "But I think there is also value in not thinking about it for a while. I feel like my usual charming and charismatic self for the first time in a week."
"Understood," Hitsugaya nodded tersely. "In that case, would you like to tell me more about this shinko?" He picked up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks. "Because it is delicious."
"Ah, yes!" Byakuya agreed. "Shinko is actually made with very young konoshiro, and they are only available for a few weeks each spring. Note the sweet flavor, the exceedingly tender quality of the meat. We shall have to return later in the summer. Kohada, the slightly more mature version of the same fish, generally makes a much less exciting nigiri, although, in the hands of a truly talented chef, it can be transformed into something truly transcendent."
"Interesting," Hitsugaya agreed.
"To me," Byakuya opined, "the choice between the finest of ingredients, left in a simple preparation to let its natural qualities shine versus the ingenuity and skill of the chef in creating flavor from a more intransigent baseline is the very essence of high cuisine."
"Renji. Renji, you have to taste my ramen. It's so good!"
"I'm not eating your death ramen!" Renji leaned back to avoid the chopsticks Rukia was waving in his face.
"You have no appreciation for fine dining!"
"Yeah, well, it's like you don't even care about my subordinate's romantic woes!"
Rukia flopped back into her seat, shaking her head. "You are the sappiest sap there ever was. I can't believe you feel sorry for that guy."
"He's really sad about it, Rukia!"
Rukia slurped up the noodles Renji had refused. "The stupidest part is, Byakuya would be elated if Ohno married Ishibashi Ayaru."
"Really?" Renji asked, incredulous.
"Yeah! Her dad is really important and they're an old, old family with a lot of history in the Gotei and cultural influence and all that. I know you don't care about this insider horsecrap, but the branch families are all obsessed with getting hooked into the main line. It's dumb, because if they really want Byakuya to notice them, they need to stop trying to flatter him and start trying to impress him."
"I care about insider horsecrap," Renji protested. "I mean, I don't care about it, but it's certainly helpful to know why half my squad is beefing with the other half on any given day."
Rukia settled her chin in her hand. "Shizue asked me the other day why I'm at the Thirteenth and you're at the Sixth. It may be a little weird, but I think I'm really glad to have the separation between my work and my family life. I still can't believe you took this upon yourself."
Renji shrugged. "It's not so bad. It's not like I have to take it home with me at the end of the day."
"Except that you do."
Renji chewed his ramen contemplatively for a moment. There was something he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure if he should. They'd had such a nice evening and there was the big party tomorrow. It would be a Hell of a time to piss Rukia off. On the other hand, sitting in the dim back corner of the cheap ramen joint on the edge of campus they never actually went to as students, with the loud buzz of youthful chatter around them and the pleasant ache of a new tattoo on his arm, Renji wasn't sure when he'd get another chance of feeling close enough to her to say it. "Do you remember the other day, when you were talking about first going to live with the Kuchiki? When you said you were lonely?"
Rukia had been taking a sip of iced tea, and she slowly set her glass down. "Yes. I remember."
Renji took a deep breath. "I know I said I was sorry then, but I- I want you to know that I wasn't just being flip. I really am sorry. That I told you to go. I didn't know what it meant, to be noble. At the time, I don't think I had even gotten over the fact that they fed us three times a day at the Academy."
Rukia snorted and looked away. "It's not like I knew, either. I hope you haven't been beating yourself up over it. We were just a couple of dumb kids, doing what we thought was best."
"I know," Renji sighed. "But… I was so afraid of reacting wrong. The most amazing thing had happened to you and I was just… devastated. In the moment, I felt like if I was anything less than thrilled for you, I would come off as the awfulest friend there ever was, and somehow, that's exactly what I managed to do."
"I never thought you were an awful friend," Rukia said quietly. She still wasn't looking at him. "I mean, that's classic Inuzuri thinking, right? You gotta take the good stuff when it happens to you. You were looking out for me. Making sure I didn't do anything dumb out of sentiment."
Renji blew a puff of air out of his cheeks. "Look. I don't beat myself up over it, or at least I try not to, mostly because… because over the last year, a lot of things were really close to going a different way, but they didn't, and I don't like looking gift horses in mouths, y'know? I… like where we are right now, and I really like the person you turned out to be."
Rukia turned back to look at him now, and her eyes were uncharacteristically shiny. Renji, unable to meet them, immediately stared down at his hands.
"All the same, I just… I just want you to know that...that I didn't want you to go."
Rukia snorted, and Renji did look up. She was shaking her head and digging into her ramen. "Dummy. Like I hadn't figured that out."
"There's a difference between you figuring it out and me sayin' it," he replied simply. "And while I'm saying stuff, I'm telling you right now that I want you to stop acting like I'm doin' you some favor whenever I do noble junk."
She peered up at him skeptically from under her eyebrows.
"If there's one thing I do beat myself up over-"
"I knew it."
"-it's that I wasn't there for you when you needed a friend."
"That's stupid. Byakuya never would have let you."
"At the beginning, I'm sure you're right. But I think that there had to have been some point where I could have taken the chance, but I didn't because I was stuck on this dumb idea that I couldn't face you again until we were on equal footing. I missed it, though, and that's how I ended up throwing you in jail."
"You know, I could throw you in the Squad Thirteen brig for a week or two. If I did that, would you finally stop bringing up the jail thing?"
"No good. The Squad Thirteen brig is probably really cozy. Your captain would bring me homemade soup and peppermint tea. It would be like a vacation."
"Dammit, I hate that you're right. I don't even remember what terrible point you were trying to make."
"You told me last night- dang, was that last night? - that I was important. That it was okay for us to be friends, even in fancy company."
"You actually listened to me?"
"I did! And it's gonna take me a little while to wrap my head around the 'being important' part, but I… I want to be your friend. I want to help you track down your fugitive aunt. I want to help you humiliate your grandfather at tennis. I have thought it over, and I have decided that I am willing to provide a distraction while you make off with a dessert tray, but it has to be something Kuchiki-level good, I am not doing it for bog standard mochi."
"Please. You underestimate me."
"The point is, I'm not used to getting dressed up and making small talk with aunts, but I'll get there. I want to be in your life. I want to go through stuff with you. You don't have to thank me for that, and your brother doesn't have to either."
"I see." Rukia studied his face for a long moment. "I get where you're coming from, but the thing is, thanking people who have done something for you is an important part of etiquette."
"Argh!" Renji groaned. "Will I never be free from the shackles of etiquette?"
"You will never-" Rukia started, but then became overcome with the giggles. After a moment, she managed to collect herself. "You will never get Brother to stop, but I think I might have a workaround. What if, instead of thanking you, I told you, just every once in a while, that I like having you around? That I had a great time destroying my grandfather at tennis with you. That it's more fun to sing when you're there to hear me. That I wish you had come to the art museum with us today, because I saw a painting that reminded me of you."
"It'll be tough," Renji admitted. "But I might get used to it. If you insist."
"I do." She dug into her ramen again. "I also insist that if you want to be in my life, I get equal time in yours. Going to fancy-pants stuff with me is not an acceptable substitute for our precious slumming hours, got that?"
Renji scoffed. "I cherish the slumming hours. When else are we gonna make fun of the ridiculous things that happen at the fancy stuff?"
"That is the best part of slumming."
"I thought being drunk was the best part of slumming."
"Actually," Rukia mused, scooping up a massive clump of noodles from her bowl, "garbage food is the best part."
"I've changed my mind," Renji said, leaning over the table and opening his mouth obnoxiously. "Gimme the inferno soup."
"Nooo!" Rukia protested, pulling her bowl away. "Your poor tummy!"
"I'm a lieutenant, my tummy is strong now! Let me try it!"
"If you bail on my party tomorrow because of bad tummy, I will never forgive you!" Rukia shouted and then jammed the entire wad of noodles into his mouth.
Renji dropped back into his seat and chewed for a minute. Tears immediately began gathering at the corners of his eyes. "I regret this so much," he declared.
Rukia was too busy laughing to reply.
