Author's note: The chapter has finally arrived- we are going to see our beloved B+R reunite in this chapter, buckle up because it's going to be a crazy ride. I can't promise it will be easy for our boys, but they will get there in the end. Don't forget to review, subscribe, and all that good stuff. Please enjoy!
Chapter 7 content warnings: arguing and angst
Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are the intellectual property of Kubo Tite. I do not own Bleach or its characters.
Friday rolled around quickly. Renji was booked with back-to-back appointments from the afternoon through the evening. He had become a rather popular tattoo artist over the years, selling his prints and sculptures out of the same space he tattooed. He had even started to gather enough traffic that he had the means to hire a few other artists and mentor some students, like Rukia. So, maybe he hadn't become a famous worldwide artist as he had once professed while selling repurposed garbage in the ghetto. Still, he was definitely well-known now within his community.
Renji said goodbye to his last client just after nine. The only other artist still in the space, Shuhei Hisagi, a man with spiky black hair and somewhat offensive face tattoos, was packing up and preparing to leave.
"Good luck with everything tonight." Shuhei was slipping into his leather coat at the door.
"Thanks," Renji waved goodbye. "You did a great job today. Your work has always impressed me, but I'm sure you already know."
"Oh, Renji?" Shuhei turned back, the scars and tattoos on his face contorting as he frowned. "Make sure Rukia is okay."
There it was, the unspoken pact amongst the misfits. The poor, the dejected, the homeless. They were a family not of blood but of choice.
Renji nodded firmly. "Wouldn't let anyone dream of even hurting her."
Shuhei looked relieved. He chuckled as he opened the door. "You know, Renji. You've become like a father figure to the kids in this shop. Taking care of all your homeless, weird, tattooed, mostly queer family."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." Renji laughed along with his coworker. "Won't be having any of my own kids, anyway. Unless you wanna become the Prime Minister of Japan and like legalize gay marriage and adoption anytime soon."
Shuhei frowned again. "Fuckin' politics."
Renji simply shook his head before going back to cleaning up his dirtied workspace.
"Do you think they'll let someone with a 69 face tattoo run for government?" Shuhei laughed again in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"Oh God, they won't even let us into the public pools, Shu." The tanned man threw his arms up in the air. "I'm scaring all the children, remember?"
"Renji Abarai, professional child scarer."
"I'll add it to my resume."
Shuhei snorted before waving goodbye once more, letting the door fall closed behind him.
Renji decided to turn on some music as he cleaned up, throwing away his used ink and supplies before getting to work on sweeping and mopping the entire shop. Then, the bell at the shop entrance chimed, and small footsteps followed.
"Hey." Rukia seemed rushed as she made her way to the back of the shop, where the artists would often sketch out their designs.
"You're a bit early." Renji checked the clock on the wall to confirm.
"I have some finishing touches to put on this work I want to show Kazuki." Rukia pulled out her sketchpad, frantically dumping her pencils and pens all over Renji's workspace.
"Aye, I just cleaned that." Renji groaned, walking back over to inspect the woman's work.
Rukia jumped forward to quickly close her notebook. "Don't look at it. I'm not ready to have it critiqued yet."
"But you're gonna show it to the guy who was married to her first?"
"Well," Rukia huffed, playing with the edge of her dress, "hopefully, he isn't a critic."
She stepped out from behind the table, doing a quick twirl to show off her outfit. "How do I look? More presentable than usual?"
"Weird to see you in a dress." The tattooed man smirked. "And a dress that isn't miniature in length, at that."
"Oh, yeah, and your style is so much classier?" The petite woman rolled her eyes before immediately getting back to her work.
"What's wrong with my outfit?" Renji glanced down at his loudly patterned button-up top that had at least three of the top buttons undone, his torn dark denim, and his heavy combat boots.
"No, no, you look great." Rukia mumbled as she began erasing and retracing some lines in her notebook. "If you were trying to cosplay a video game version of a pimp today."
"How dare you bring Grand Theft Auto into this."
"Would you politely piss off?" The feisty woman argued, glancing up from her work again. "I really have to finish this."
Renji raised his hands in defeat, grabbing his mop as he headed to the back. "I'll have my headphones on to give you some privacy, but I wanna finish cleaning in the back, and then I have some client designs I need to work on."
"Perfect. Bye." Rukia ushered him away with a flick of her hand before she went back to drawing.
Byakuya stood outside the neon sign that illuminated the window of the small tattoo shop. The shop's name was Zabimaru, using the kanji for the word "snake tail" in its name. As Byakuya looked up at the neon sign he pondered what kind of person Rukia was. He didn't judge her for asking him to meet in a place like this, but he was curious to know more about why she had chosen this spot.
The noble released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He was nervous about being here and anxious to win over the trust of his late wife's sister. He composed himself before entering the tattoo shop. The door chimed as the tall and slender man filled the doorway. Rukia's purple eyes flashed with excitement from the back of the shop. Seeing Rukia again had immediately brought a pang to Byakuya's heart; he swallowed hard.
"Kazuki-san, thank you for meeting me here." Rukia strode to the front, offering to take the older man's coat. "Sorry, I know it's a little strange, but my friend owns this shop, and I thought it might be nice to meet in private, in a neutral spot."
Byakuya offered his coat while trying to avoid looking at Rukia for too long. "It doesn't bother me. Thank you for agreeing to see me again."
Once his coat was off, the man quickly straightened his suit. It must've been custom-made, probably thousands of dollars. Rukia watched in awe as she wondered what other luxurious wonders the man had to offer.
"Shall I show you around before we chat?" Rukia gestured her hand out towards the gallery portion of the tattoo shop. "Have you ever been to a shop like this before?"
"Well, not exactly, but I do have some… knowledge of how tattooing works."
"That's amazing." Rukia chimed in as she led the way. "I am doing an internship here as a guest artist. I don't know how to tattoo, but I make art that can be replicated for 'flash designs.' Those are designs that can be replicated on many different clients."
"You're an artist?" Byakuya's face seemed to soften a bit. Of course, Hisana's sister would be creative and brilliant.
The short woman nodded, fidgeting with the hem of her dress nervously before quickly releasing the fabric from her anxious fingertips. "I'm finishing my Master of Fine Arts as we speak. The owner here is helping me with my dissertation. He is a brilliant tattoo artist and a dear friend."
"A Master of Fine Arts?" The noble was impressed. "You must be very astute."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Rukia waved her hand dismissively. "And you? What do you do for work?"
Byakuya blanked for a moment. He felt pretty horrible having to go on with the lying. He just wasn't ready to let on that he was a Kuchiki quite yet. At least for his job, he could be honest enough, though.
"I, too, attended postgraduate school, MBA. My family works in the procurement of commercial real estate. Terribly boring compared to what you do."
"Boring pays the bills." Rukia chuckled, clearly trying to make a good impression on the man.
"Indeed." Byakuya began to walk around the small gallery room, examining some of the art hanging there. "Is anything of yours here?"
Rukia bounded over to a large framed work on the wall. "I made this at the start of my internship here two years ago."
The Kuchiki examined a large painting depicting a heavenly woman dressed in white, surrounded in what looked like the middle of a blizzard. The figure stood alone and graceful, dancing amongst the storm. Rukia waited with bated breath for the other's review of her work.
"Stunning," Byakuya murmured after a moment, leaning in closer for a better look at the fine details. "Oil on canvas?"
"Yeah," Rukia smiled, surprised by the man's knowledge of seemingly everything. "I'm glad you like it. I have another art piece to share with you before you go."
He finally stepped back from the painting, risking a glance at the petite woman below. His heart sank a bit again. "I would love to see it. You know, Hisana had an affinity for the arts too. She studied ikebana."
"Oh, ikebana!" Rukia's amethyst eyes sparkled with admiration. "I have always thought that was just the most amazing craft. Very simple yet refined. People don't realize how much work actually goes into making arrangements like that."
The corner of Byakuya's lip turned upward into the ghost of a smile. They were finally connecting on something. Hisana's family carried the gift of artistic talent. His wife would have been so proud and amazed to know this. His quiet realization was disturbed by the sound of a muffled singing voice coming from the back of the shop.
"Oh, God." Rukia's cheeks turned red from embarrassment and she offered a slight bow of apology. "My mentor is still here in the back working. Let me go tell him to quiet down."
Byakuya nodded as he watched her scurry off towards the back of the shop. He used the moment to continue to walk around the gallery. He noticed a collection of sculptures in the corner; some depicted animals that had been welded together with metal scraps. He picked up a small scorpion statue made of discarded nuts and bolts. He furrowed his brow, finding the art style somewhat reminiscent of someone he used to know.
"Shut your giant trap, would you? We can hear you all the way in the gallery!" He heard Rukia yell from the back.
He couldn't make out the other person's reply, but Rukia quickly returned to the front, bowing once more while she now used a much more polite tone. "I apologize. Can I make you some tea?"
"Thank you." Byakuya set the scorpion figurine back down on the table, opting for a seat on the black leather couch in the center of the gallery.
Rukia returned holding a tray with two cups, her large sketchbook tucked under her armpit, and a pencil between her teeth. She tried to navigate setting everything down without making a mess.
"Here, let me help." The noble swiftly took the tea tray and gently set it on the low table in front of the couch.
Rukia pulled the pencil out of her mouth with a sheepish smile. "Thanks. I hope you like green tea."
"My favorite." Byakuya took the cup between his nimble fingers, blowing away some steam before savoring the smell of freshly brewed tea.
"Me too." Rukia didn't know what to do next, so she took her teacup into her hand, sipping at it carefully.
After Byakuya had a sip, he set the cup back down, setting his lips in a tight line. "I was thinking about how hard this must be for you. I must apologize for springing something like this onto you when you are in a busy time in your life. However, I hope I can offer you an insight into your sister's life. Please consider me an open book in that regard. I will answer any questions you may have about Hisana."
"Honestly, I feel bad for looking so much like her." Rukia frowned, staring down at her high heels. "I noticed you don't even look at me."
"You've noticed." Byakuya closed his eyes for a moment. "I apologize for my impertinent behavior."
"No reason to apologize. Loss is hard. If you feel more comfortable staring at the wall, your feet, whatever you have to do."
"I must admit," Byakuya opened his steely eyes again. "You even sound like her. Although, she was always rather frail, even in her voice. She had been sick most of her life."
"Shit." Rukia let the swear slip, setting her teacup down next to her guest's.
"She left you behind because she was too sick to care for you. A horrible decision for a child to have to make."
"Yeah." Rukia felt the heaviness of it all bearing down on her heart again. She sighed softly, running a hand through her hair. "I'm starting to get that."
Byakuya watched the younger woman from the corner of his eye before he reached into his suitcase, shuffling through some papers for a moment before setting a file down on the table.
"Here. The paperwork regarding the adoption. This includes details of your inheritance and more photos of Hisana should you wish to view them."
Rukia glanced down at the file that seemed to loom on the table. She thought it rude to look it all over in front of the well-to-do man, so she chose to tuck the file away into her notebook.
"I will be sure to review all of this and get back to you on it." She paused then, biting the corner of her lips covered in a red matte lipstick. "Can I ask you something personal?"
"Go ahead." The pale man folded his hands in his lap.
"What was it that you loved about your wife most?"
Byakuya pondered the question, choosing his words carefully. "She was the most self-sacrificing person I've ever met. She was a saint in human skin, truly."
"A selfless heart." Rukia smiled at that. "I see."
Rukia picked up her teacup, taking another sip as her smile grew. It brought her a strange sense of comfort to understand her sibling this way.
"Kazuki-san, if you don't mind, I have some artwork I would like to show you. It's…The subject matter is about my sister. I wanted to know your opinion on it as someone who knew her well when she was alive."
"Oh. Very well, then." Byakuya seemed a bit unprepared to process such material, but he nodded nonetheless.
Rukia nervously began to flip through her sketchbook, her hands shaking a bit in the process. The older man chose to avert his gaze so as to not put too much pressure on her. Then he saw it. A shock of crimson in the corner of his eye.
His heart leapt, and his stomach flipped inside of him.
No. It couldn't be.
A tall man with broad, muscular shoulders hummed as he swept up the back room, clearly engrossed in the music he was blaring through his headphones. He turned, and Byakuya caught sight of the stark black ink wrapped around his arms and neck. Byakuya could hear his own heartbeat ringing in his eardrums, a small drop of sweat gathered at the edge of his hair. He watched as Renji swayed his hips in time to the music, humming under his breath.
"Oh, no." Byakuya's voice didn't betray his panic as he reached for his phone and pretended to look at the screen. "Rukia, I'm afraid I'm getting a business call. I apologize, but I have to return to the office now; it is urgent. Let's reschedule this for another time."
The petite woman looked a bit disappointed but agreed with a nod nonetheless. Byakuya swiftly grabbed his suitcase, bowing at Rukia in apology before trying to agilely flee the shop. His hand was on the knob, and he almost released a sigh of relief. He had just escaped the man who had been haunting his dreams and nightmares for years. There was no way he could face him after all this time and after all they had been through. There were simply just some things that were better left unsaid.
"B-Byakuya Kuchiki?" the voice from the back of the shop wavered as it met his ears.
The noble didn't turn back as he opened the door, allowing the night air to swallow the sound of Renji's voice. Byakuya's car was down the street in a nearby parking garage. Hence, he began to negotiate his options for escape quickly as he started his way down the sidewalk in measured but hastened steps.
"You're gonna run away again, huh?" the rough voice called to him from behind.
He heard footsteps gaining on him. Byakuya felt like his heart was being strangled in his chest, but he forced everything back inside. He was only broken from his silent suffering when he felt strong hands twisting into the fabric on the back of his extravagant suit. He turned quickly, deflecting the hands that had their grip on him.
"Do not touch me," he spoke firmly.
Renji's wide, churning eyes scanned the other's face as they stood in front of one another. Byakuya could read the fury, confusion, and upset all over his long-lost friend's face. The redhead still wore his heart on his sleeve; that was obvious.
"So, it really is you…." Renji scowled as if past trauma had risen up like bile in his throat.
The slender man before him merely folded his arms, presenting as if this encounter was more like an inconvenience to him than anything else.
"Cat got your tongue or somethin'?" Renji scoffed and matched the other's pose, folding his sculpted arms over his chest.
Byakuya avoided eye contact, glancing back at the tattoo shop. "Looks like you've been doing well."
"Yeah, I was, until you stuck your nose back into my life. What the hell do you want with Rukia?"
The noble lifted his chin slightly. "That is between us."
Renji clearly was beginning to lose his grip on his temper, pinching the bridge of his nose between calloused fingertips. "Looking for another Rukongai stray, is it?"
"I have to go," Byakuya replied bluntly, trying to make another escape.
Large hands flew forward, holding the Kuchiki by the lapel as he brought him closer. The redhead's warm breath was on Byakuya's face, faintly traced with the smell of tobacco as their noses almost brushed together.
Renji spoke in a low, threatening tone. "The fuck you want with us? Haven't quenched your savior complex yet?"
Byakuya turned his cheek to his old friend, seemingly offended by the mere sight of him. "I said I have to go."
Renji's voice raised as he lost control, shaking the noble in his hands. "First you got your slum childhood friend, then your slum wife. What's next? Slum sister? We're not your fucking toys! Mind your own goddamn business, Kuchiki, or else."
The raven-haired man felt his anger welling up like hot lava in his chest, but he simply ignored it. He blinked at the other man with blank eyes. "Done with this tantrum yet?"
Renji seemed to come to a revelation at that point as the anger faded from his face. He loosened his grip. "You're just like them now, aren't you?"
"I have no idea what nonsense you are talking about." Byakuya smacked away Renji's fingers as they loosened from his collar.
"A fuckin' proper Kuchiki, that's what you are. You're a monster." Renji gritted his teeth in frustration. "Is your grandfather happy that you finally grew into a clone of him?"
"Keep his name out of your mouth." Byakuya managed, keeping a vice-grip on his own emotions.
To the redhead's dismay, his eyes filled with tears of exasperation. "You are a filthy fucking liar. You said you would come back for me, and you never did. You abandoned me."
Hot tears burned their way down the taller man's cheeks, but he made no attempt to hide them as he glanced back at Byakuya with smoldering eyes. "Can you just tell me why?"
Byakuya watched Renji's tears travel down his chiseled chin with calculated eyes as he weighed his answer. Finally, he cut the tension with his callous voice.
"I had duties to fulfill as the head of the Kuchiki house. Did you really think I was going to forgo those duties for someone like you?" Byakuya watched the heartbreak written in the other's eyes as he continued. "It's like the story of the monkey trying to capture the moon. However close he thinks he is to the moon, it is still just the reflection of the moon on the lake. You will never be able to reach me."
After finishing Renji with his piercing words, the Kuchiki turned and continued to walk away, seemingly unbothered by their encounter.
"Stay the fuck away from Rukia!" Renji growled after him. "Don't you dare talk to her again!"
Byakuya didn't turn back at the sounds of his former friend's threats. Instead of running after him, Renji watched, fists balled up and shaking at his sides until the noble had strode out of view.
The ding of the doorbell alarmed Rukia when Renji re-entered the tattoo shop.
"Listen, Rukia," the tattooed man began, looking exasperated, "You gotta stay away from that guy. He's a liar and a–"
"What the actual fuck was that?!" Rukia snarled, rising up from where she had been huddled in worry on the couch.
"Rukia, let me explain, please." He then raised his hands as a sign of surrender.
"I think I've heard enough out of you." She stood before the man almost a foot taller than her, sizing Renji up. She was small but absolutely ferocious. "Stay out of my fucking business. Who do you think you are?"
"That guy, his name is actually Kuchiki Byakuya. He's been lying to you."
"I don't care if he is the goddamn tooth fairy!" Rukia screamed, her purple eyes ablaze, "He is the only link I have left to my family, and now he's gone!"
"That guy's been collecting us slum folk like stamps," Renji pleaded in earnest.
"And you've been collecting chips on your shoulder since the day you were born, Renji." Rukia reached into her notebook, ceremoniously ripping out pages of her drawings and watching them fall to the floor below.
"What the fuck are you doin' that for?" Renji watched in horror as the younger woman destroyed her art.
"These! What I wanted to show him!" Rukia half-cried, half-screamed, throwing the notebook as hard as she could into Renji's chest in defeat. "My only chance at knowing who she was just walked out the door because of you. Just because you are miserable doesn't mean you have to make everyone else feel that way!"
Rukia grabbed her purse, storming towards the entrance. Renji reached out for her, only to have his hand harshly struck.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your hands off me, motherfucker. You're not my friend. Stop acting like it."
The door shook as she slammed it behind her. Renji stood there, alone in silent agony. Then, after a moment, he knelt down to gather the desecrated art on the floor. He picked up several sketches of a lovely black-haired woman dancing in the cherry blossoms around her. Rukia had drawn the woman over a dozen times, clearly trying to get the gentleness of her eyes just right.
Renji gathered up the papers and grabbed a bottle of whiskey on the way back to his desk. He sat there for the rest of the night, drowning his sorrows in alcohol and occasionally looking over at the crumpled-up drawings of Hisana. Unknowingly, this selfless woman had brought them all back together again.
