Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
Word Count: 880
AN: The next few chapters will round out our end. They are all long so settle in!
A Kiss for Shelter
So Nice
The snow whispered down steadily from a gray sky.
The navy hood obscured the dark hair, but when the woman turned slightly he caught a glimpse of a rosy bronze cheek and a corner of a smiling mouth. She was stooped slightly to accommodate her companion. Clinging to her hand was a child, looking like a little lord in his dark hakama and thick fur-trimmed haori. His steps were slow, his head tilted back, mercurial eyes filled with awe as he watched the icy flakes filter down toward him. His hair was thick and a lustrous black, falling just below his ears, a slight wave to the locks.
Scampering about in the thin layer of snow coating the ground was a female greyhound, leaping and bounding across the winter landscape with lithe grace. In her excitement the canine jumped toward the boy, halting before him- and ultimately causing him to lose his balance. The boy, perhaps two, sat down hard, looking rather bewildered by his sudden fall.
After a soft gasp, the woman eyed the boy only to muffle a quiet giggle behind her hand. When he looked up at her wide-eyed she let loose her laughter. The sound echoed hollowly, chime-like but hushed by the pale flakes.
She smiled down at the boy her words to him perhaps too quiet to be heard. Only moments later did the little one roll to his knees and push himself up to stand, wobbling only slightly. Suddenly he launched himself forward toward the dog who had backed away with a guilty whimper. His stance was wide, but he was fast nonetheless and the greyhound found herself in real danger of being caught by the toddler. She barked, darting away only to stop and tease the boy with a furiously wagging tail before avoiding his grasp and continuing her jaunt.
"Lay-la!" The boy called, a familiar, intense look in his eyes, but a smile curving his lips. Barreling after her, he seemed to blink over the snow, stopping whenever she did and then giving chase once more.
The boy's mother stood back, laughing.
But when she turned, everything seemed to slow, the snowfall, the boy and his dog playing their game- everything. The woman's mouth was stretched into a lovely smile, dark eyes echoing her laughter, her hands resting atop the cloak and the beginning swell of her belly.
Her pink, flushed lips moved, but there was no voice forthcoming. The only thing that could be heard: the clapping of the boy's hands as he now stood still calling for his dog.
Clap…Slap, slap, slap!
…
Byakuya jolted awake, frowning at the mild sting left behind by Takuma's little hands on his cheeks. There was a weight on his right shoulder and part of his chest. He turned his head slightly to see the infant grinning at him, sprawled across him, hands poised to strike his face again. A smirk flashed onto the captain's face only a moment before he snatched the little hands mid-slap and sat up, Takuma dropping into his lap. His expression was slightly smug as he looked down at the boy who looked up at him, lower lip pouted out in disappointment.
He heard Xochitl's quiet laugh from the doorway. He looked up at her smiling face, but couldn't help but drop his gaze to her middle. A brief pinprick of regret entered his gaze, as he noted that the obi lay flat and not indented around her small waist.
"It's rare for you to sleep so late… Nice dreams?" She questioned, lifting one brow. She didn't wait for a reply as she wandered in to take Takuma, "Come have breakfast… I have something to show you."
Takuma nuzzled into his mother's neck, resting his head on her shoulder, but when he reached for her hair she detained his hand. She turned and stepped out of the room, her voice though quiet still travelling to Byakuya as she moved down the hall, "Ah, ah… That may work with Renji Oji-san, but not with me little one! How come you never try that with your father, hm?"
A chuckle escaped the man left behind and he turned his head to look toward the outside shoji. By the position of the sunlight streaming in he could tell that it was indeed late. He breathed in a deep steady rhythm, letting the stillness wipe away any thoughts for a time. Soon enough however, the dream filtered back to him and a thoughtful frown appeared on his face.
Could it have been a vision of the future?
He found a helpless smile playing on his lips as he pictured his son, the very basics of flashstep propelling his little legs. This expression only grew when he envisioned Xochitl, her stomach beginning to swell with child once more. He closed his eyes, the smile falling away as he scolded himself. They were not yet married and he was thinking of having another child. He had a feeling another pregnancy so soon was not a part of Xochitl's agenda.
He was too traditional- and Xochitl too independent. Briefly he felt a hint of discouragement cloud his mind, heavy and murky. A brisk shake of his head and the winter greys were clear without trace of uncertainty.
AN: Babies do tend to get excited about faces… and they do tend to hit (innocently unaware that though their hands are little- they still hurt)…