Gotei Captains Hobnob with Seireitei Elite!

Kuchiki Clan Throws Star-Studded Gala to Celebrate Lady Kuchiki Rukia's Promotion

Umiomi Itou, Society Editor

Kuchiki Manor, Friday. Though appointment to captain of one of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads is tantamount to being named nobility, Gotei captain is rarely seen as a glamorous job. That certainly wasn't the case on Friday evening, as the captains and their lieutenants gathered at Kuchiki Manor to eat, drink, and show off their finest outfits.

The cause of this celebration, though, is no stranger to the public eye. Lady Kuchiki Rukia, First Daughter of the Kuchiki, made waves last summer when she was nearly wrongly executed as part of a plot by the traitor Aizen Sousuke. After a dramatic rescue, she went on to distinguish herself as a hero and a trusted companion of Kurosaki Ichigo, regarded by many as the savior of Soul Society. Her meteoric rise has continued, as she has recently been named to the post of Assistant Captain of the Thirteenth Division.

"Service to the Gotei is one of the cornerstones of Kuchiki tradition," explains Rukia's illustrious brother, Kuchiki Byakuya, Captain of the Sixth Division and Kuchiki Clan Head. "I hope that this celebration conveys to all in Soul Society how proud we, her family, are of Rukia and her accomplishments."

"I couldn't be more excited to have Kuchiki stepping up to this position," added Ukitake Juushirou, the Thirteenth's long-time captain. "She's a skilled soldier and an amazing leader. We're going to make a great team!"

Not only do they make a great team, they make a great looking team. Captain Ukitake, who was named last year's "Captain We'd Most Like to Cuddle" by the Shinigami Women's Association, arrived in a stunning silver and pale turquoise ensemble. Limiting his usual fish motif to an embroidered obi, Ukitake opted instead for a gorgeous haori hand-painted with his division's signature snowdrops. Clearly, this was a nod to his lieutenant's absolutely breath-taking, twelve-layer kimono, crafted by the famed couturier Koshino Syuuga. Despite standing at a mere 144 centimeters, Lady Rukia appears much [article continues on page 17]


Byakuya stepped aside while the reporter from the Bulletin arranged Rukia and Ukitake for their photograph. Although he was fairly confident the pictures he, himself, had posed with her would come out well (after all, he and Rukia were both very attractive), Byakuya hoped they would choose one of the shots with Rukia and Ukitake to run with the article. Aside from bankrolling for the party, a mere trifling, he had little to do with any of this.

Kyouraku, looking surprisingly well-groomed for the occasion, sidled up to him. "Ahh, Kuchiki!" the older man groaned theatrically. "I always tell Juushirou that it's just good practice to have a lieutenant that is solidly better looking than you, but I didn't think he'd actually manage to do it."

Byakuya pondered this horrific excuse for wisdom. Traditionally, Squad Six would be helmed by an older, more venerable Kuchiki, with a younger up-and-comer serving in the lieutenant's position. Say what one wished about his time serving as his grandfather's second, but they had certainly made a striking pair. "I am objectively more attractive than Abarai. We make do," he pointed out.

Kyouraku looked at him blankly for a moment before his face split into a grin. "Goodness, I've missed that old Byakuya sense of humor!"

It hadn't been a joke, but sometimes it was just easier to let these things pass. If people found him naturally witty, who was he to dissuade them?

"Juushirou's been walking on air since she got that badge," Kyouraku went on. "I thought he was just happy to have someone to keep his Third Seats in line, but maybe your sister brings out something in people, eh?"

"It is true, my sister is a delight," Byakuya replied vaguely. Currently, his sister was (successfully) convincing her captain to make belligerent faces together, as though they were prepared to start issuing challenges right here, in the middle of a fancy dress party. "They do make a good pair," Byakuya added, almost inaudibly.

"Are you certain you still wish to join the Gotei?" he remembered asking Rukia. "I am well aware that many enter service as a means to escape the Rukon. Your needs will be met from now on, you have no obligation to continue."

She had trouble meeting his eyes in those days, which worked out, since he had similar difficulties. "No one survives the Rukon alone. I may not have an obligation to the Gotei, but I have one to my old friends- to become strong, to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

He had been toying with the idea of sending her over to the Fourth- she could be safe and useful there, and she had admitted an interest in the healing arts. He knew, though, that Unohana would never respect his wishes regarding Rukia's career path, and would probably use the girl as an opening to needle him about his grief.

Some small, mean part of him did not wish to send Rukia to the Thirteenth. He would never, in a millennium, admit that he had been happy at the Thirteenth. But despite brimming with adolescent irritability and comporting himself like a spoiled child, he'd had a captain who always cheered him on, a vice-captain who treated him like he could be better than he was, companions and colleagues.

It wasn't that he had been doing well before Rukia came, but at least his existence had settled into a uniform greyness. Rukia was like a knife in his ribs. She made Hisana's absence ring in his ears, claw at his eyes. He wanted to bury her in tutors and lessons and ladylike activities. He wanted to seal her away in a tower and forget she existed.

But he had promised Hisana. He knew fully well that he was honoring the letter of his promise to her and not the spirit. But he could not. He could take care of Rukia, but he could not bring himself to care for her. Hisana would be furious with him and he would deserve it.

"I will speak with my old mentor, Captain Ukitake," he promised. "I think the Thirteenth will suit you." He could not care for Rukia, but at least he could send her to someone who could.

And now, here they were, Captain and Lieutenant.

He could and did care for Rukia now. He realized with a slight start that perhaps there was no one he cared for more. She did not need anyone to take care of her, but she let him continue to do so, and perhaps she took care of him in certain ways, as well. None of that would be possible if Ukitake hadn't shown kindness to him at a time he wasn't capable of being kind to anyone, least of all himself.

"You made the right choice, I think," Kyouraku said in that laconic, off-hand way he ever said anything of any importance.

"Come again?" Byakuya shook himself out of his reverie.

"To let her take an officer's position. I understand how hard it is to make that call."

"Oh." Byakuya paused. "No. I made the wrong decision and then corrected it." Rukia and Ukitake had finished with their photos and were approaching. "I thought perhaps you were referring to when I requested Captain Ukitake accept Rukia into his squad in the first place. That was the right decision."

"What have you done, Shunsui?" Ukitake exclaimed as he and Rukia wandered up. "You've got Byakuya waxing sentimental."

"I simply meant that I look forward to the Thirteen finally becoming a respectable squad," Byakuya sniffed. "The Eighth is the perfect example of the difference a competent lieutenant can make."

"So true," Kyouraku agreed.

"Not too respectable, though," Ukitake wrinkled his nose. "That sounds boring."

"I'll do my best, Brother," Rukia said, with a twinkle in her eye.

"I know you will," Byakuya replied.


"Hoooo-eeee, I would not have guessed how good Akon would look in fancy clothes!" Hisagi appraised, craning his neck. "Wow. That guy can get it."

"Give it up," Renji advised him. "He's not interested in what you're packing, unless you've grown some tentacles or something since the last time I saw you without pants."

"Your hair is an abomination," Kira added hopefully, appraising the poorly slicked down mess of Hisagi's usual spikes. "What happened there?"

"It used to be worse," Renji added under his breath.

"Captain said we couldn't show up looking like punks," Hisagi grumbled, running his hands through it nervously, which did not improve matters. "Not that he was very specific about it." He gestured vaguely over to Captain Muguruma, sharply dressed in a well-tailored Living World style tuxedo with his hair roguishly gelled. He was chatting with Kira's captain, who was absolutely resplendent in an elaborately embroidered frock coat over what appeared to be velvet trousers.

Renji glanced back and forth between Captain Outoribashi and Kira a few times. He knew that Kira had a decent collection of traditional formalwear, but today he wore a high-collared shirt and an acid green, western-style waistcoat under his haori. He was wearing a pair of pointed, lace-up boots that Renji kinda coveted. It was actually a very good look for him, if you were into twiggy, anemic dudes. "Did you… plan your outfit with your captain?" Outoribashi's pants were definitely the same shade of green as Kira's vest. There was no way that had happened by accident.

"Shut it," Kira grumbled.

"Very classy," Hisagi agreed. "Captain Unohano and Isane are coordinated, too, but they're… y'know…a thing."

"Shut it!"

"Whoa! Look who's here!" Renji interrupted, his eyebrows practically up in his headscarf.

Momo and Captain Hirako were making an entrance. As promised, Momo had ditched the pastels. Instead, she was dressed in a brilliant, flame-red kimono, painted with shimmering gold phoenixes. Her big, soft eyes were sharpened by a deft hand of dark eyeliner, embellished with bold streaks of red at the outer corners. Her hair was crowded with glints of gold and ruby kanzashi.

Hirako, grinning even wider than usual, was also coordinated to his star-like vice-captain, clad in a gold kimono embroidered with red dragons, although he had softened the look with dark hakama and a medium grey haori shot through with gold thread.

"Daaaaaaa-ang," Hisagi whistled.

"See? Very normal, color-coordinating," Izuru mumbled.

Momo whispered something to her captain and they parted ways, Shinji making a beeline to the shrimp table with Rose and Kensei.

"Gentlemen," Momo greeted coolly, gliding over to their group, snagging a glass of plum wine from a passing waiter on the way by.

"Momo, you look stunning," Renji announced immediately.

Momo gave him a shocked look, as though she couldn't believe her old school friend had learned to give a decent compliment. "Why, thank you, Lieutenant Abarai! You look very dashing!"

"I'm getting a dress uniform," Kira declared grumpily. "'Dashing.'"

"He's still going to look better in it than either of us," Hisagi pointed out. "Neither of us could pull off 'dashing' to save our lives. What we really need is worse-looking friends." He cleared his throat. "Abarai is 100% correct, by the way, Momo, you look great."

"Absolutely brilliant," Izuru added softly.

"Rangiku did my makeup," Momo admitted. "It's not too dramatic?"

"It's perfect," Kira reassured her.

"Has Rukia made her big entrance yet?" Momo asked, frowning. "How does she look?"

"Regal," Kira decided.

"Very serious," Hisagi added.

Momo was giving Renji the side eye. "Well? Mr. Finally-Learned-to-Give-a-Compliment? Haven't you got an opinion on how your own girl looks?"

Renji kicked her in the ankle. "She's not my girl!" he hissed. "And I was on honor guard duty. Eyes straight ahead. I… didn't get a good look at her."

"You are kidding me, Abarai!" Momo howled, hitting him with a fan she was apparently carrying for that express purpose.

"I couldn't have kept my eyes straight ahead, that's for darn sure," Hisagi announced.

"Yeah, most of the other Squad Six Seats couldn't either," Kira pointed out.

"Which ones?" Renji demanded. "Push-ups. A hundred push-ups for them! Two hundred."

"Oh, no, push-ups? Who's committed what crime now?" a voice behind him teased.

Renji's head whipped around, as it always did when he heard Rukia's voice. His mind went abruptly blank. Completely and utterly empty.

Rukia was also clad in red, but a deep, dark claret, with undertones of purple. He'd never seen her in that color before. It was the color of Squad Thirteen, the color of the lining of Captain Ukitake's haori, the color of blood on the tip of a sword, the color of his own hair when he had been caught in the rain.

Tonight, Rukia wasn't playing the flirty younger sister or the responsible woman of the house. Instead, she looked formidable. The small mountain of silk wasn't as bulky as Byakuya's full Kuchiki Head regalia, which Renji had seen exactly once, but it was reminiscent of it. He noted that at the sleeve, at least eight layers were visible, increasingly lighter reds before switching to stark white. It was nigh impossible to tell the snowy layers apart, there may have been three or four more. The pattern of colors was important, he seemed to remember from a book he had read, but he couldn't remember what this particular one symbolized.

The outermost layer was heavily embroidered at the hem with silvery white snowdrops that shone brilliantly against the dark, rich fabric. A guilty thrill shot through Renji at the thought of the delicate snowdrop painted on her arm that only he and she knew lay under all those layers of silk.

Her obi was pure white as well, patterned subtly in silver, so it sparkled like the sun on snow. The skirt was fuller than a normal kimono, almost reminiscent of hakama. Her hair was tightly braided and pinned around her head, but fitted with large dark red coral combs that dangled waterfalls of pearls. Everything about her seemed designed to take up space.

Renji wondered how many knives she was hiding in that getup. At least three, he suspected, although Sode no Shirayuki probably would have fit comfortably under the skirt, and he certainly wouldn't put it past her.

Not the first moment he had met Rukia- he'd been running for his life at the time and hadn't had a good chance to look- but the second time, Renji had known that she wasn't made for the streets of Inuzuri, that she was something better. The day Kuchiki Byakuya came to retrieve her from the Academy, he was surprised only by the suddenness of it- it had seemed absolutely right and correct that the moon himself would show up to place Rukia back in the sky where she belonged. And yet… and yet, the role of dutiful sister had never sat correctly on her either. Rukia was no delicate thing in a pretty kimono, to be admired and put away on a shelf.

This. This imposing woman in blood-red silk was the girl he had always seen, even when no one else could. She looked like a cruel Empress in a fairy tale. She should be leading an army into battle or personally executing a traitorous advisor. Only one thing marred the effect: the glowing, joyful smile on her perfectly made-up face. It lit up her eyes, turned her human, a woman that might be happier with an armful of camellias than a pledge to die a thousand deaths for her honor. Renji would have gladly given her either.

Renji became dimly aware that somewhere past the pounding of blood in his ears, someone was talking. Words. Words were happening. Momo? Was Momo talking?

"-I'm just saying that if this party got attacked, I think I've got slightly better range of movement."

"I can do shunpou in this thing, don't think I didn't check," Rukia was replying grimly.

"You have an entire family guard, nearly the whole of Squads Six and Thirteen are here, not to mention the entire captain class, I really don't think either of you need to worry about-"

"My pride, Izuru," Momo intoned at the same time Rukia said, "My pride, Kira."

"Are you wearing geta?" came stupidly out of Renji's mouth.

Rukia turned to him, and unbelievably, that smile widened a little further, her eyes sparkling. "Who's your tall, good-looking friend here, Hinamori? He looks like he belongs to my brother, but he doesn't seem familiar."

"Never seen him before in my life," Momo shrugged.

Kira shoved his sharp elbow into Renji's ribs. "Get it together, man!" he hissed. "Lovely. Radiant. Enchanting. Powerful. Gorgeous. Pick one. Pick three, she deserves it."

Renji held a hand tentatively up at chest height and adjusted it up and down a little, trying to gauge something. "Yeah, you seem taller than usual. At first, I thought it was the hair, but it's not just the hair."

"Screw you, Lieutenant Abarai!" Rukia said extra cheerfully, keeping her voice low, although Kira's face went pale and scandalized. "Yes, I am cheating. I should take one off and beat you with it, but you look too nice so you get one free pass. One. You flaming jerk."

Renji's brain struggled to put together a coherent compliment, but all he came out with was "You just looked tall, is all. Didn't mean anything by it."

Rukia looked surprised, and then smug. She stood up a little straighter. "Ah. Well. Thank you." She blinked. "Do I really?"

"You really do," Renji reassured her, barely even noticing Hinamori making bug-eyed what the fuck?! gestures from behind Rukia's back. He assumed those were for Kira and Hisagi and ignored them.

A strange, pleased look came over Rukia's face.

Renji jammed his elbow into Kira's ribs. "You need to compliment her, too," he hissed.

"I already did and so did Shuuhei, mushbrains," Kira snapped. "While your head was off in the Royal Realm."

"Oh," Renji managed.

"You two done gossiping?" Rukia accused. "I'd love to hang out, but I've got to make the rounds."

"Your loss," Momo grinned, saluting with her wine glass. It appeared she had regained her composure.

"Have fun," Renji murmured, realizing that he should really be making his own rounds, checking in with the house guard, making sure all the Squad Sixers were behaving themselves, see if Captain Kuchiki needed anything-

"Nuh-uh, you're coming with me," Rukia announced, grabbing his arm. "Sorry, all, I'm requisitioning Abarai. I'm not dealing with the Eleventh without him in tow."

"It's okay, we've already heard all his jokes," Hisagi grinned.

"I'm sure we'll catch up to you again!" Rukia cheerfully manhandled Renji's arm until she could gracefully rest her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Make sure you get some sakuramochi, they're really good!"

"I… uh…" Renji stammered as she steered him away. He tried to think of something to say that would make up for his idiocy of earlier. "Sorry. You know my brain's not good."

"I do know that."

Maybe he could make up for it now. "Right. Your dress. Your dress is." Renji was perfectly aware that it wasn't a complete sentence. He gave up. He would just have to go to his grave without ever managing to tell Rukia how fucking beautiful she was.

"Oh, don't worry about it, I've already heard every compliment under the sun for it. 'Tall' was a new one though, and possibly my favorite so far. It's not like I had anything to do with it, I am merely a vehicle for Mr. Koshino's genius. A tired vehicle, it weighs a ton. I imagine this is what you must feel like in bankai."

Renji's heart felt tender and pleasantly achy. His compliments might be terrible, but at least he'd had the dumb luck to fall in love with the person with the worst taste in compliments in all of Soul Society. "Koshino's not the only one who deserves props," he put in, starting to get a bit of his game back.

"Oh?" Rukia prompted, with a raised eyebrow.

Renji shot her a lopsided grin. "Mikan did a bang-up job on your hair and makeup."

That sparkling smile returned. "I'll tell her you said so." Rukia regarded him fondly for a moment, and Renji felt like he could bask forever in the warmth of that smile. "I like your fancy bandana," she finally said.

"Thank you," Renji announced grandly. "A lady of unparalleled beauty and kindness made this for me."

"That was the correct answer," Rukia agreed. "I wish Orihime could see how good it looks on you. She was worried you wouldn't like it. You'll let me take a picture later, right, so I can show her the next time I see her?"

"Yeah, sure. Is it gauche to take selfies at these things?" He swallowed back the dryness in his mouth. "Love to get a shot of both of us, looking like a pair of fucking peacocks."

"Oh, probably!" Rukia agreed, waving at a friend. "But it's my party, I can do what I want."

"And what do you want to do first, Kuchiki Rukia?" Renji asked.

"Well, I already did what I wanted to do first, which was find you. Now I want to go show off my dress to Yumichika, and if he won't admit that I look fantastic, you have to put him in a headlock so I can punch him."

"Now that," said Renji, "is a service I am happy to provide."


"-it is not at all that we were displeased with the quality of the various offers we received, you see," Byakuya explained. "but we are simply thrilled with Shizue's decision to attend the Academy. There is always time for marriage later, in my opinion."

Lord Ohno's eye twitched. His wife kept opening her mouth and then closing it again. Young Ohno's brow was furrowed, as though he were trying to do some sort of complicated mathematics equation in his head. Byakuya tried to impress every aspect of their facial expressions into his memory, a mental photograph he could use to cheer himself on future gloomy days.

Finally, Lady Ohno found her voice. "How many years are you planning? I have heard that two is optimal for a young lady's development."

"Shizue is a very bright girl, but I think the full course of schooling is best," Byakuya pretended to misunderstand her idiotic question. "Rukia graduated on an accelerated track, and has often expressed that she would have benefited from a more extended program."

"Have you given any consideration to a Family-Approved Suitor?" Lord Ohno asked hopefully.

"The curriculum at Shin'ou is very challenging, as I'm sure your son can tell you, since you didn't happen to attend yourself," Byakuya shrugged. "We would not wish her to have too many distractions."

Lord Ohno's lips were turning white as he pressed them together in a hard line.

"Strictly speaking, I will be taking her on as a ward while she resides in the city," Byakuya threw out airily. Lord Ohno's eyes narrowed. Shizue might not be available at the moment, but Byakuya wanted it made clear that this was merely an investment in her long-term worth. "Rukia and I are both looking forward to getting to know her better. I insist that she reside in the school dormitories, however. The bonds she forms with her classmates may follow her throughout her career. Did you know that four of our current vice-captains entered the Academy in the same year?"

The Ohno were nothing if not quick on the uptake. "What a coincidence!" Lady Ohno exclaimed. "Our Tsumugi has been considering enrolling! They would be in the same class!"

Byakuya had the distinct impression that this would come as news to Tsumugi. His eyes darted over toward his Third Seat- Isao wasn't nearly as good as his parents at keeping his facial expression carefully schooled. Except that Third Seat Ohno had disappeared.

"Wasn't...wasn't Isao with you?" Byakuya frowned.

Both elder Ohno frowned and looked over. "Oh. He was right here," Lady Ohno's brow creased. "I wonder where he could have gone."


Rukia had always thought she was bad at parties.

The fact was, she had just spent her life attending a lot of high difficulty parties. Parties where all of the attendees had been trained since birth in an elaborate system of etiquette, at a time when Rukia herself had received roughly the socialization of a feral cat. Parties where half the guests hated her guts and half wanted to marry her and she had no idea which was which. The early days of Squad Thirteen picnics, before Kaien took her under his wing, where people managed to both resent her for noble status and look down on her for her lack of a seat. More recently, bar parties with people who had all known each other for decades and outranked her besides.

Now, she was at a party at her own house, with her own peers and it was… easy. Rukia felt momentarily very proud of herself. She ought to feel incredibly intimidated to be chatting casually with a group of the most senior women in the Gotei, captains and clan heads in their own right, whom she respected immensely. But armored in her ridiculous kimono and extravagant hair, and confident in her knowledge of all the proper forms of address, Rukia had easily fallen into a conversation about where the SWA was planning to hold their summer retreat. She hadn't even needed Renji's help. Which was good, since he had very promptly recused himself from the discussion, and was standing stoically several meters away, like he was on guard duty or something.

"You know, this is fun," Captain Soi Fon declared, echoing almost Rukia's exact thoughts. "We used to have Gotei parties all the time when I was a young woman, and they used to make me so nervous, but this is nice."

"Really?" Nanao asked. "I don't remember that."

"Lady Yoruichi and Byakuya's father used to take turns throwing them. You're probably too young to remember," Soi Fon explained. She didn't need to mention that Soujun had passed away just a few years after Yoruichi's banishment. "The Kuchiki Estate has hardly changed- still beautiful as ever. You remember- oh, did we lose Retsu?"

"She had something she wanted to say to Lieutenant Abarai," Isane explained.

All four women promptly turned around, as though this were some sort of spectacle to behold.

Rukia had no idea what she expected Renji to talk about with Captain Unohana. Ikebana, possibly? Sure enough, though, they seemed to be engaged in some serious discussion. Renji was rotating his forearm, like he was trying to demonstrate something. Rukia wondered if they were talking about his injury, but Hanatarou had said it was only a minor wound.

"Oh, they're probably talking about tennis, she's been talking about tennis a lot lately," Isane guessed.

That would make sense, but it didn't seem quite correct to Rukia.

"How is his hair like that?" Nanao exclaimed.

"I know," Soi Fon added grimly. "Byakuya needs to watch it. He may still have the best hair in the Gotei for now, but his lieutenant is hot on his heels." Party Soi Fon was nothing like Professional Soi Fon, and Rukia was having a little trouble with it, to be honest.

Renji's hair did look really nice, though. Rukia had thoroughly expected him to show up with it wrestled into a French braid and lacquered into place with three cans of hairspray. Renji was usually pretty sanguine about the realities of his hair, and she had heard him lament its general intractability many times in their youth. Whenever he wanted to look nice, he usually took one of two routes: he would either deal with it on its own terms- do something that looked rakish and messy on purpose, or he could beat it into submission, much in the same way he had achieved bankai. Rukia has assumed that, to go with the dress uniform, he would have done the latter.

He hadn't done either, though. In fact, he'd opted for something very simple. He'd pulled the top half of his hair back into a simple ponytail, tied with a blue ribbon to match Orihime's bandana. The rest just draped loosely down his back. But oh, how it draped!

Rukia didn't know what he'd done to his hair to get it to behave–a cream, a heat treatment, or whether he had just spoken to it sternly, but it flowed like a river of cornsilk, shiny and sleek. It had just a hint of wave to it and curled charmingly at the tips. Rukia had not yet worked up the courage to ask if she could touch it.

It looked amazing on its own basis, but it was also extremely a Kuchiki look- to put one's beautiful, flowing hair on display, with the implicit message that should he need to draw steel, it would simply behave, out of respect, perhaps. Rukia wasn't sure that there were many people who would pick up on that, but there was no chance it was by accident. Renji had decided to show up looking like the lieutenant of the Sixth Division, with or without the proper genetic material, and wow if he hadn't pulled it off.

Rukia suddenly turned away, hoping her makeup was hiding how pink her cheeks must be. "I love seeing everyone all dressed up and with their hair done," she said quickly. "Isane, your curls are so cute!"

"Oh, Rukia, how can you say that?" Isane blushed hard. "You look like a princess from a fairy tale!"

"I don't disagree," Nanao put in, "but Isane, you are devastatingly cute."

Soi Fon nodded in solidarity.

Isane did look adorable, with her hair floating in a silvery cloud of ringlets around her face. To be honest, Rukia thought she looked much more like a creature from a magical story, with her filmy, rose gold kimono and dreamy make-up.

"Oh, well, I think we all look very pretty!" Isane sputtered. "Or handsome! Whichever you prefer!"

Captain Soi Fon, to whom she was obviously referring, waved a dismissive hand. Rukia wasn't sure if Squad Two also had a dress uniform, or if this was a custom look. Soi Fon had gone for a Meiji era military look. She was wearing a black, thigh length double breasted jacket, swirled with gold embroidery on the sleeves and epaulets, over sleek black trousers. Her hair was twisted up into a severe crown of braids, and her gold and copper eye makeup was sharp and minimalist. Rukia had gone into a minor swoon when she first spotted her.

"I love your outfit, by the way," Rukia commented. "I'm a little jealous."

"Mm," Nanao agreed.

Soi Fon was not above preening a bit. She gave a very pleased smile. "I'll give you the name of my tailor. You could pull this off, you know, Kuchiki."

Rukia felt dizzy.

Nanao laughed. "I'd pay a million kan to see Captain Kuchiki's face!"

Soi Fon shrugged. "Byakuya can appreciate an aesthetic."

"Did I hear someone say 'aesthetic'?" Captain Unohana's serene voice broke in, and all heads turned to see her rejoin the group, now with Lieutenant Kurotsuchi in tow.

"Oh, Nemu, wow!" Isane gasped.

Rukia remembered, belatedly, Akon encouraging Nemu to use this party as an excuse to exercise her creativity. She probably should have been concerned, but instead, she had promptly forgotten it.

No one who looked at Nemu could possibly forget her outfit.

Somewhere, at the core of it, was a long, high-necked sheath dress that wouldn't have looked out of place in one of Orihime's fashion magazines, apart from the fact that it was covered in large, rigid, iridescent blue-green scales. Sea-monster skin, possibly. This only seemed to serve as a means to attach dozens of huge, translucent petals that drifted delicately around her, glowing gently in soft colors. The headgear (because of course there was headgear) strongly resembled a jellyfish- a large, soft bejeweled dome that sat atop her head, with a curling, lacy fringe that hung around the sides of her head. All of her hair had been stuffed up inside of it. By way of make-up, she had painted a lattice of silver criss-crosses over her entire face, and then painted her eyelids and lips in metallic indigo.

Soi Fon, Nanao, and Rukia stared at her, mouths agape.

Say what you want about Isane, but she was always prepared to prop up other people's self-esteem. "Nemu, you look amazing!" she chirped.

That broke the spell.

"How did you make it glow like that?"

"That blue looks wonderful on you!"

"Is it… playing music?"

"Thank you, I made it myself," Nemu announced proudly. "I will be publishing a white paper on its construction, if you are interested. Captain Unohana said that you were discussing locations for the Women's Association summer trip and I would like to be included so that I may catalog the advantages and disadvantages of each."

"Oh, yes," Nanao recovered. "So... you probably remember last year, we were going to go camping, but then there was that infestation of-"

"Rukia," Captain Unohana leaned over and said softly in her ear. "Mr. Akon has requested a moment of your time."

Rukia glanced over her shoulder. Akon appeared to be chatting with Renji, (tall, hot guy stuff, presumably), but he gave Rukia a little chin jerk by way of acknowledgement. "Thank you, Captain Unohana," Rukia replied. She hesitated for a moment, tempted to ask what she had been discussing with Renji, but decided to try and get it out of Renji himself, later, instead. If he wasn't willing to share, Unohana surely wouldn't tell her either.

"Nemu really outdid herself, eh?" Akon said after Rukia had excused herself and gone over to join the men.

"No one's doing it like her," Rukia agreed.

"Is she having a good time?" Renji asked.

"Oh, yeah, she's having a blast," Akon replied. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "She hit it off with some noble lady who's apparently a big shot in the avant garde theater scene. I think the two of them would have talked all night if the other lady hadn't gotten called away by some boring looking guy. I think he was from your squad, Abarai, he had the same fancy-pants uniform as you."

Rukia and Renji exchanged raised eyebrows.

"Anyway," Akon went on, oblivious to possible soap opera subplots occurring in his midst, "Nemu seems pretty well ensconced in SWA machinations now. I was promised some freaky fucking orchids and I am ready for them."

"Fair," Rukia nodded. "Let's go find Byakuya."


Byakuya, for once, found himself at loose ends.

He had finished relaying the news of Shizue's off-market status to all interested parties. Usually, at soirees such as these, he found himself mobbed by high-ranking relatives or other hangers-on who wanted a piece of his attention. An unexpected silver lining of Ginrei's presence was that many of these humanoid remora had decided to target his time-exclusive grandfather instead of himself. He had spotted Shizue cheerfully chatting with one of Rukia's long-time friends, Lady Hirata, whom he was given to understand had recently joined the Gotei. Byakuya approved of this, and made a mental note to thank Rukia later for making the introduction.

Byakuya prowled the periphery of his party, but everything appeared to be going swimmingly. True, quite a few of the captains had arrived in outfits of questionable taste, but Byakuya gathered that his noble brethren tended to regard this as delightful eccentricity. Seike reported that they had run out of cocktail shrimp, which seemed literally impossible given the amount he had specified. In normal circumstances, this would have been a complete disaster, particularly for Rukia, who could consume more shrimp in a sitting than any person he had ever met, but the last he had seen her, she was too busy socializing to bother with hors d'oeuvres.

No, it appeared that there was nothing that required his attention. Feeling a bit unmoored in these strange circumstances, Byakuya helped himself to a sakuramochi (he found that the pickled sakura leaf imparted a sublime aromatic tang that elevated it above most over-sweet confections), and decided to go see how Captain Hitsugaya fared.

Captain Hitsugaya was not an easy man to find, but Byakuya was quite skilled at both navigating crowded parties and locating short people. He eventually spotted Hitsugaya standing in the middle of the little wooden bridge that overlooked the koi pond. There was an animated smile on the young captain's face and his bright eyes shone.

He was talking to Lieutenant Hinamori.

"Hold it, right there!" an iron voice suddenly commanded, and a shapely arm suddenly barred Byakuya's path forward.

"Excuse me," Byakuya said dryly, making the generous assumption that he had not been recognized.

Apparently, though, there had been no such mistake. "Uh-uh," Lieutenant Matsumoto dared to wag a finger at him. "They're having a nice moment. Whatever you need can wait."

Byakuya blinked in surprise for a moment. "You misjudge me, Lieutenant," he replied frostily. "I sought nothing from your captain, save the pleasure of his company. I had only just realized that he was occupied. Nothing but the severest emergency could induce me to interrupt a tender moment between siblings."

Matsumoto's face softened immediately. "Oh! I see."

Byakuya regarded her with lidded eyes. "That being said, I am not certain that your captain's privacy merits such an extraordinary display of vigilance."

Matsumoto shot the same facial expression back at him. "Sometimes, a lieutenant is deeply invested in the relationship between her captain and his beloved sister, who is also her close friend."

Byakuya started to think about that, and abruptly decided not to. "I see. Carry on, then."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Matsumoto saluted in the Western style. "Do you want to leave a message?"

"I shall catch up to him later," Byakuya promised.

"Oh, and Captain Kuchiki?" she said as he was turning to go.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for putting out-" she lowered her voice, "-the good booze."

For the life of him, Byakuya could not formulate a suitable response to this. "Thank you for… wearing an appropriate outfit." Matsumoto was, surprisingly enough, wearing a very traditional kimono that covered her chest entirely. While she didn't have the correct figure for it, the shade of dark rose was very flattering on her, and it drew attention to the beauty of her face and hair.

The corner of Matsumoto's mouth curved up into a feline grin. "Be extra nice to your adjutant, Captain. He made me an entire month of duty rosters for this."

"You shall regret that deal after your subordinates become spoiled by his exquisite duty rosters," Byakuya informed her. "And I am always extra nice to him."

Matsumoto crossed her arms over her chest and raised one eyebrow.

As Byakuya headed back in the direction of the house, he contemplated who else's company he might enjoy. Obviously, he was very happy for Captain Hitsugaya, but he also felt a selfish pang of disappointment on his own behalf. It was short-lived, however, when he realized that his beautiful and beloved sister was approaching up the same path, accompanied by Abarai and an odd-looking fellow who surely must belong to the Twelfth. To be fair, the stranger was dressed in a very handsome hakama ensemble. You never knew with the Twelfth, Byakuya supposed.

"There you are, Brother!" Rukia's cheerful voice rang out. "You aren't busy right now, are you?"

Byakuya frowned. "I suppose I can spare a moment for you, Rukia. What do you require?"

"Oh, well, you know my friend, Akon, right?"

"Yes, of course," Byakuya lied.

"He's very interested in your orchids."

"Many people are," Byakuya replied loftily.

"The creepy ones," Rukia specified. "The ones that eat dead stuff."

"Saprophytes are unique and beautiful organisms that have important research applications!" Akon defended.

"Technically, they are mycotrophs, not saprophytes, it is a very common misconception," Byakuya corrected. "And they are not creepy, Rukia, they are part of the cycle of decay and rebirth."

There was a moment of silence. Abarai scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Anyway, I thought it was impossible to cultivate them until I read that article you wrote," Akon blurted out.

"Obviously, I have to maintain a companion colony of host fungi, and I use a modified form of bakudo number 43 to regulate the nutrient uptake."

"No way, that's wild!" Akon exclaimed.

Byakuya blinked. He couldn't even imagine Hisana, who loved orchids with more enthusiasm than anyone he had ever met, describing his greenhouse setup as "wild."

Rukia tipped her head to the side. "Brother, why don't you just pop over and show Akon your zombie orchids. It'll hardly take a minute, and you look like you could use a breather, anyway."

"I do?" Byakuya asked. "Is something about my face amiss?"

"You have the face of an angel, as usual," Rukia reassured him. "But I am your sister and I can tell these things."

Byakuya jerked his chin at Abarai. "Be honest with me, Lieutenant."

"You look fine," Abarai replied, "but you should go look at your orchids. Sir."

Byakuya supposed a man should listen to his lieutenant now and again, and probably his sister as well. "Very well. I suppose we can make a short visit. Rukia, I am sure you are quite capable of handling any crises that may crop up in my absence."

"Leave it to us!" Rukia assured him.


Lady Rukia was missing.

Kamata Dai, Head of the Kuchiki House Guard stood on the edge of the engawa, staring out over the party and feeling his blood pressure rise.

The woman was wearing so much silk that Kamata had seen her turn sideways to get through a door. How did she do this?

It was the shrimp. The shrimp had run out, and then so had Lady Rukia.

This was his own fault.

He had liked Lieutenant Abarai. He had trusted Lieutenant Abarai.

Lieutenant Abarai was also missing.

"Guard Captain?"

"Report, Hosogi," Kamata growled at his purple-clad subordinate.

"We. Um. We can't find Lord Byakuya."

There was a ringing in Kamata's ears that was getting louder and louder.

"Do you think… should we raise an alarm, sir?"

"Not yet. Just… keep looking."

There was no evidence of a struggle, no signs of foul play. In the unlikely event of a kidnapping, it's not as if either Kuchiki would possibly go quietly.

Furthermore, if Lord Byakuya had gone missing on purpose, as he had made a habit of in his youth, locating him might possibly be the worst thing Kamata could do.

No, the party itself was going smoothly. The best thing to do was just to sit tight and have everyone keep their eyes open, and presumably the Kuchiki siblings would reappear eventually, just as they always did.

Kamata's ears continued to ring.

"Excuse me? Are you Guard Captain Kamata?"

Kamata looked over to his right and promptly gulped. He would guess that the engawa was probably about a half meter off the ground, and yet he still had to look up to meet the pair of golden eyes that were currently staring deep into his soul. "That's me," he managed.

Kamata had never actually seen a werewolf before. This had to be Captain Komamura. He hoped it was Captain Komamura, because he had not planned for more than one werewolf to be in attendance. Komamura was both much larger than he had expected, and had an incredible presence. He had soft, ginger and white fur that practically glowed with softness. He was clad in an enormous navy blue kamishimo bristling with gold embroidery. On a smaller ma- being, it probably would have seemed loud, but against the scale of his bulk, it looked magnificent.

"I am given to understand," Komamura said, in a voice that rumbled up from his mighty ribcage, "that I have you to thank for the special chair."

Kamata blinked. "Ah, yes. I. Er. I'm glad you found it acceptable. Lord Kuchiki cares deeply for the comfort of all his guests."

"It was very considerate," Komamura smiled, showing off an array of sharp, glistening teeth. "I have not had a chance to talk with Captain Kuchiki, but I shall certainly thank him as well. This has been one of the most delightful parties I have ever attended."

The enormous Gotei captain turned and headed back to the crowds. His tail was swishing from side to side as he walked.

"Sir," Hosogi's voice hissed into Kamata's ear. "Is he… is he wagging?"

Kamata longed for a stiff drink, or barring that, a nice lie-down. Alas, he was on duty. "At least we managed to do something right," he sighed.


It didn't surprise Renji that Byakuya had somehow managed to arrange perfect weather for Rukia's party. The day was sunny and just slightly on the cool side, which worked out perfectly, given the pack of people and the weight of clothing most of the guests were wearing. Right now, bright sunshine filtered down through a curtain of green, dappling the voluminous skirts of Rukia's dress where it had overflown her own personal space onto Renji's lap. Renji tried to settle back against the yew leaves, but he didn't entirely trust the hedge to support his weight.

"I think," he pointed out, "that Captain Kuchiki assumed you would be hanging around the party when he agreed to play hooky. I do not think he expected you to also immediately run off and hide, let alone take me with you."

Rukia, her head thrown back into the bush and her eyes closed luxuriously, looking for all the world like a contented cat, seemed unbothered. "Yes, that was my intent," she replied. "You have grasped the subtleties of my scheme."

"Ah. Just makin' sure."

Rukia cracked one eye open. "I feel like you are not appreciating this."

Renji waved his hands frantically. "No, no, no! I know how special this… hedge maze maintenance corridor is to you, and I feel deeply honored that you decided to share it with me."

Rukia's other eye opened. "I honestly can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not. I knew I shouldn't have brought you back here."

Renji thumped cheerfully on a nearby billow of dress. He had no idea if there were any parts of Rukia underneath it. "I will admit, I may have been a little judgy when you first told me you did this, but I could literally feel a weight lifting off my shoulders when you brought me back here." He sighed, and leaned further back into the hedgerow. If he fell over, he fell over. "It's not like I'm not already constantly impressed by everything you and your brother do, but I guess I didn't really appreciate how much pressure you're under to be perfect, pretty much all the time. It's exhausting."

Rukia's face softened.

"That being said," Renji went on, determined to keep flirting with death, for some reason, "I do feel like I am not getting the full experience."

Rukia's eyes narrowed again. "My hedge maze maintenance corridor isn't good enough for you?"

"It is very charming and idyllic in this hedge maze maintenance corridor. Pleasantly shady. Hedges are very…hedgy. I love it here, to be honest. It's just that when you described the whole...sneaking around process, I just had a certain conception of it in my head, and it just seems like…" he rolled his wrist, "we're missing something."

Rukia looked genuinely confused. "Would you rather we snuck around the empty house? I didn't figure you would- you never liked breaking and entering the way I did. Also, we'd get in a lot more trouble if we got caught, not that we would get caught, of course-"

"Rukia," Renji cut her off, "you're really stupid sometimes." With that, he leaned forward, took her face in his hands, and kissed her soundly.

At first, Rukia's body went rigid, but she'd always been pretty quick to jump on an opportunity when it presented itself. Her lips melted into his, her fingers grasped at his haori. Renji wanted to kiss her forever, but instead, he gave himself a five-count from the point she started kissing him back; longer than that and he didn't trust himself to be able to stop.

The scandalized look on her face was definitely worth it as he pulled back and stretched his arms over his head. "Now, I've got the gist of it. I'm totally on board now. I get the appeal."

"You- you did that just to- I don't believe you! You fucking- You slipped me the tongue!"

"That's what you're mad about?" Renji replied, lifting an eyebrow as he savored her sputtering indignance. "Pardon me. Nobody gave me the handbook on hedge maze make-out etiquette, so I had to make a best guess-"

"Go to Hell!"

"I am going back to the party," Renji announced, hauling himself to his feet. "You said you only wanted to stay for five minutes. It has definitely been more than five minutes."

Rukia glared at him.

"C'mon, it's a good party. I saw you havin' fun. Also, I think I spotted some Chef Ohori's chicken meatballs, and if you want to find out whether you can fit more of them in your mouth than I can, we should probably do that before your brother gets back."

"First of all, you could never," Rukia shot back. "Second, you need to pick me up, because I've definitely lost my feet somewhere in the depths of this dress. Third, there are leaves in your hair, but I'm not telling you how many."

"A normal person," Renji said, grabbing her by the waist and hefting her into the air, "would have waited to be a dick until after I had rescued them from their own clothing."

"That's not how either of us operate, and you know it."

"True." He shook her gently until her skirt had sorted itself out, and then lowered her down until it seemed like her feet had made contact. "You still got your geta on in there?"

"Astonishingly, yes."

Renji picked off a single leaf that was stuck to one of her combs. "Are there really leaves stuck in my hair, or do you just want to touch my gorgeous locks and are too big a coward to ask?"

"Does it matter?" Rukia asked, making little grabby wiggles with her fingers.

"No," Renji replied. "Not really."


The party was starting to wind down, and Rukia was beginning to feel a pleasant tiredness soaking into her bones. She was really looking forward to taking out her combs.

She hung back, sipping a glass of sake and watching her brother talk to Captain Muguruma. Kuna was right, Muguruma was definitely trying to use hair gel to make up for height. It definitely worked with regards to Shuuhei, who also had a lot going on in the hair situation, but it just made it all the more obvious that Byakuya was winning on his own natural advantages. Renji was ruining it for all of them, though, towering over the group, even without the benefit of his usual porcupine spikes.

"Are they still talking about that joint training exercise?" Ginrei's gravelly voice appeared at her shoulder. "He never stops working, does he?"

Rukia was pretty sure that Byakuya was actually trying to wheedle Captain Muguruma into reinstating his etiquette column, dangling the possible return of "Let's Do Shikai!" as a sweetener. She didn't want to run the risk of putting a crack in her cover story from the day before, though. "Oh, you know how he is," she replied vaguely.

"They say that Soul Society never changes," Ginrei reflected. "It's not quite true. It resists change. It brings things back around, whether you want them or not. Just look at Muguruma, Hirako and Outoribashi. Never thought I'd see those faces again, and certainly not at a garden party."

"I doubt they'd say nothing has changed, though," Rukia pointed out. "Getting a second chance isn't the same as avoiding a mistake in the first place."

"Exactly," Ginrei agreed. "Assuming that the person getting the chance isn't so old and stubborn that they insist on making the same mistake a second time."

Ruka looked at him out of the corner of her eye, and took another sip of her drink.

"In that dress, you remind me an awful lot of your sister," Ginrei said quietly.

"Thank you," Rukia replied, a few icicles dripping from her voice.

Ginrei exhaled slowly. "I wasn't very welcoming to her. And I wasn't very welcoming to you, either. I apologize for that."

Rukia's heart stuttered to a halt. Her throat closed up. She didn't know what to say.

"Kuchiki are prickly people, as I'm sure you've figured out. I always thought Byakuya should marry a sweet, understanding soul, like my Sonoyo. Someone who would pad his sharp edges, who would make things easier between us after Soujun died." He gave a wry chuckle. "I was too worried about him to see he'd just gone out and found someone exactly like the two of us."

"I'm not soft, either," Rukia murmured.

"No. Certainly not. You're the sister he needed, though. You're the sister who brought my Byakuya back around again."

Rukia swallowed. "But better."

GInrei smiled, his mustache curving up. "I think you're right. Take care of each other, Rukia. You're my grandchildren, and I'm very proud of both of you."

Rukia smiled back at him, the corners of her eyes burning. "Thank you, Grandfather. We will."


"I believe we should still have a few bottles of the Mountaintop Bluebird we served at that interminable dinner party with the Noragashi," Byakuya pondered. "The company was tedious, but the sake was a delightful surprise."

The party was over, and despite the servants bustling about to complete any essential clean-up, everything was beginning to retreat back into its usual quiet.

"I am sure we do," Seike reassured him. He glanced toward the doorway and then back again. "Three, Lord Byakuya?"

Byakuya nodded.

"I shall take care of it."

"Oh, and Seike? Please extend my compliments to all the staff. Everything was up to the highest standard."

"Thank you, Lord Byakuya, I shall pass it on."

Seike departed, and Byakuya waited for his footsteps to retreat down the hallway before calling out, "Come in, Abarai."

Abarai stepped into the study. "Hey, Captain. Heard you wanted to see me before I left." Abarai still looked immaculate in his crisp uniform, but a certain weariness shadowed his eyes.

Byakuya still wore most of his outfit from the party, but he had traded out the fantastic confection of a haori Koshino had fashioned for him for a plain blue one, and he'd taken out his kenseiken for the evening. He wondered if this was a mistake, if he should have just let Abarai go home to his well-deserved bed.

"As I am sure you are aware," Byakuya blustered, "neither Rukia nor myself are very naturally outgoing."

Abarai blinked in surprise. Byakuya realized he was probably expecting to be assigned floor polishing duty or something of that nature.

"We both find it difficult to settle down after these sorts of big public affairs, so we sometimes share a drink together at the end of the evening. Under the stars, if the weather permits." He paused. "Would you care to join us? You are not obligated, if you would prefer to return to-"

"That sounds nice," Abarai interrupted. Byakuya usually did not appreciate being interrupted, but he had been on the verge of babbling in his own exhaustion, so perhaps his loyal lieutenant was merely trying to help him save face. He decided to let it pass.

"Ah. Excellent."

"Anyone else coming?" Abarai asked cautiously as Byakuya led him out onto the engawa and around to the rear side of the house. "Your granddad?"

"He fell asleep immediately, or so I was informed," Byakuya replied.

Abarai gave a little snort of laughter.

Rukia was already waiting for them when they reached the portion of the porch with the best view of the gardens. She'd divested herself of that beautiful, but surely cumbersome gown, and was wrapped up in a pretty purple dressing gown. Her hair was mostly still up in its braids, but the large combs had been pulled out and put away. She'd washed her face. Rukia was a very elegant and attractive woman when she dressed up, but Byakuya always felt a certain sense of contentment to see the familiar, unadorned face of his beloved sister at the end of the night.

"Oh, good, you got him to stay!" Rukia exclaimed.

Byakuya took his seat next to Rukia and Abarai settled down on his opposite side.

Rukia handed around cups. "Well! We did it!"

"I'll drink to that," Abarai agreed.

"You did have an acceptable time, though?" Byakuya asked, after they had all taken a drink.

Rukia looked surprised. "Brother, of course I did! It was wonderful! But it's hard work being the most popular girl in the Seireitei, even for just a few hours, and I am going to take about four naps tomorrow."

"Did you have a good time, sir?" Abarai asked genially.

"Yeah, did you ever catch up with Captain Hitsugaya?" Rukia added.

"Ah, I did, yes," Byakuya replied. "I found him around the time that Captain Kyouraku challenged Captain Hirako to a poetry contest and they forced Lieutenant Kira to judge their ghastly compositions. I will admit, it was extremely entertaining."

"I can't believe we missed that!" Rukia groaned.

"I think it happened while you were introducing Lady Gotou to Yumichika," Abarai reminded her.

"Oh, right!"

"If he leaves the Gotei to go become her personal stylist, Ikkaku is going to take it out on me, you know."

"Pbbt. You can handle that goon. Besides, just imagine the face Lady Ohno would make after Naoko showed up to a party in an Ayasegawa Special."

Byakuya could picture it quite clearly. He imagined he might be willing to fight the Eleventh Division's awful Third Seat to see it.

"Getting back to Captain Hitsugaya," Abarai broke in, "I never heard how dinner went."

"Captain Hitsugaya is a delightful dinner companion," Byakuya replied matter-of-factly. "He has a very refined palate, which is remarkable, given his tragic inexperience with civilized dining. I hope to convince him to come out with me more often. The White Lotus was phenomenal, as usual."

Rukia shot Abarai a look that Byakuya couldn't quite decipher, but it made him feel strangely as though he had suddenly become the younger sibling. He did not care for it. "I hope that the two of you had a pleasant evening out, as well." He paused briefly before adding, with mock innocence, "I should like to see it eventually, by the way."

"See what?" Rukia asked. She was trying to sound casual, but Byakuya could see the whites of her eyes. He would show her who was the big brother.

"I am sure Abarai has merely put more stripes on some unseemly part of his body that I do not care to think about, but I have absolutely no guess as to what hideous thing you've had permanently etched on yourself. Is it that rabbit you like?"

Rukia blinked and her cheeks colored. "Er… how did you know?"

Byakuya sniffed. "I notice things. Now let's see it."

Sheepishly, Rukia began to push up her sleeve.

Abarai cleared his throat. "Hold on a second. First off, I did not get more stripes this time. Second, either we're all showing off our ink or no one is. Let's see it, Captain."

A chill ran suddenly down Byakuya's spine. "I do not know what you are speaking of."

Rukia's mouth went slack. "No!"

Abarai tipped his head to one side. "Y'know, that issue of Noble Souls you were featured in probably has the most complete analysis of Senbonzakura's abilities I've ever found," he commented off-handedly. Byakuya felt warmth rising in his cheeks. That had been over fifty years ago, during a brief time in which he was not making particularly good life choices. "I know it's aimed at adolescent girls, but Hisagi says he's got a lot of respect for their journalistic integrity."

"It is not in a location conducive-"

"Everyone or no one."

Byakuya groaned, but he pulled the tail of his kimono from his hakama, and pushed them down slightly to reveal a Kuchiki clan sigil nestled in the hollow of his hip. "There, are you happy?"

Rukia's eyes were like saucers. "Brother!"

Abarai scrutinized the tattoo, before giving a single nod, as if giving it his approval.

"I am the clan head, it is expected." Byakuya was already plotting how to get his revenge on Abarai (How had he known about that stupid magazine? The man was relentless!) until he noticed the shine in Rukia's eyes and the awed expression on her face. She… she thought he was cool. "It's obvious you did not go to the family tattoo artist. The man is a total killjoy. He would never tattoo you without my permission."

"He nixed all your cool ideas, huh, sir?" Abarai presumed.

Enough of this sass. "You're fired, you know that, Abarai?"

"Hmm, that's too bad." Abarai continued to sip his sake, undeterred. "Seaweed Guy on a skateboard?"

"It is Wakame Ambassador, as you well know, and skateboards were not popular at the time. He was wearing roller skates. Enough about me! Own up, Rukia!"

"I don't work for you anymore, he's Seaweed Guy, now," Abarai muttered good-naturedly.

Rukia made a little snorty laugh, and then pushed her sleeve up to her shoulder.

Byakuya examined the tattoo critically. He was feeling the slight haze of drunkenness, which caused him to have a few unnecessary emotions regarding its beauty and appropriateness for his sister. "Well, you have certainly chosen an artist of high caliber," he announced.

"Renji's doing."

"And what an honorable thing to do, to permanently declare your loyalty toward your division. I hope Ukitake is sufficiently flattered that you should so openly dedicate yourself to him, rather than to merely get a bunch of ostentatious-"

Abarai huffed, and shoved up his own sleeve.

Byakuya turned his head and abruptly trailed off.

"Y'happy?"

"It's on fire," Byakuya noted. "That seems about right."

Abarai nodded. "Yup."

Byakuya frowned. "How embarrassing for you, having been fired immediately after getting such a thing. I suppose, in appreciation of your loyalty to the squad, and because of the great help you have been this week, that I could overlook your impertinence and allow you to retain your post."

"Much appreciated, sir."

Byakuya was silent for a moment as his sister and his lieutenant corrected their sleeves. "Speaking of impertinence and adjutancies…" he hemmed. Rukia and Abarai looked up at him, not entirely sure which one of them he was speaking to. "Rukia, I have another gift for you."

"Brother!" Rukia scolded. "You already gave me those lovely tekkou and threw me a nice party. You've done enough."

Byakuya grimaced and pulled out the lumpy object he had uncomfortably stowed in his haori. "It isn't exactly from me." He passed it over to Rukia, who hefted it curiously. "Careful, Rukia!"

Abarai peered over curiously as she picked apart the wrappings.

"Your sister was very talented in all of her artistic pursuits, as you know," Byakuya explained in his most academic tone, as though he were stating a series of facts. He was not in the habit of speaking of Hisana out loud and he did not entirely trust his voice to behave itself. "She also had a very cutting sense of humor. She gave this to me on the occasion of my second birthday after our marriage. You have to understand that I was serving under Grandfather at the time, who was still very opposed to-"

Rukia let out a bray of laughter. "Did she make this?"

"She painted it. I do not recall her ever attempting pottery."

"Renji, look at this!" Rukia was clutching her stomach. Abarai guffawed when he caught sight of it.

It was a ceramic mug. Not a tea cup, but the sturdy variety that Abarai was perpetually carting around the offices. On one side, in beautiful, delicate script, was written "#1 Lieutenant", surrounded with bunches of gorgeously rendered orchids in bright pinks and purples. It was precisely Byakuya's own sense of humor- a perplexing objet d'art that one would need an entire, sordid backstory to understand, deeply insulting to one very specific person, in this case, a captain who would never admit that his grandson did anything right, while publicly insisting that his lieutenant could do nothing wrong.

Rukia, his precious sister, and Abarai, his loyal second, had both grasped the humor of it immediately.

"I never actually used it," Byakuya excused. "It would have enraged him and accomplished nothing. It was a joke. But… I recalled it recently, and thought… perhaps, fate merely put it into my keeping so that I could pass it on to you, a gift from your sister, whom I am quite sure would be very, very proud of you right now. I am also quite sure that your own captain would earnestly agree with its sentiment."

To his surprise, Rukia leaned into him, hugging his arm. "Thank you, Brother. I love it." She looked up at him with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. "I can't believe you gave this to me in front of your own lieutenant."

"Nah, you're the best, no arguments from me," Abarai dismissed. "I'm just out here trying to live up to your example."

Byakuya held up the sake bottle and offered him a refill for his generosity of spirit. "Do not insult my squad, Abarai. Do you think I accept less than excellence? Also, most of the other lieutenants are awful. You are a strong contender for… #5? Possibly even 4."

Abarai grinned. "You hear that, Rukia? I might have cracked top third."

"You're moving up in society," Rukia agreed, cradling her new mug in her lap.

Byakuya looked up at the starry sky, his sister warm against his side, her dreadful friend a solid and dependable presence off to his left, and felt very lucky that his grandfather was going home in two days, but the family he liked was staying right here.

~ the end ~


End note:

That's it! It's over! Thanks for reading and especially for everyone who commented along the way!

Sequel? Sequel. I have started the sequel. I am not even going to pretend to guess how long it's gonna take me. Renji tries to not make it a big deal when he gets his long-damaged kidou ducts fixed; Rukia is having none of it. Byakuya would like to be removed from this narrative and yet can't seem to manage it.

If you don't already, follow me on Tumblr at recurring-polynya for weekly updates, occasional previews and y'know, art and buffoonery and stuff.