Can I ask you a question, please
promise you won't laugh at me
I'm at sea, I'm standing here
Afraid I'll be betrayed
Rukia gaped.
Well. Good thing she'd picked out a nice kimono instead of her usual outfit, because the mirror was presenting quite the Kuchiki abomination. There was mud on her face, in her hair, down her front and over her entire backside. Worse, the grime had soaked in and stuck to her skin, so now she didn't just look like a rat dragged in from the streets of Rukongai but felt like it as well. Which meant she'd have to take Nii-sama up on that offer, whether she wanted to or not.
After working up the nerve to approach his quarters, she paused, wringing damp, grimy hands in hesitation. Even when she'd been accepted into the Gotei 13, she'd never had the courage to be here, much less ask to use it.
She took a deep breath and yelled, "Nii-sama!"
No response.
Duh. It wasn't like Nii-sama was going to go around disguising his reiatsu in his own bedroom. She was being paranoid…but nothing wrong with that. It would've been sillier if she'd barged in on him undressing or something.
Then again, she could've knocked…
She nudged open the door, totally invading his personal space despite his permission. Across the room stood a table and a desk lamp, with neat shelves adorning the wall and likely a hidden closet to the right. To the left was probably the bathroom. She tiptoed in, half expecting him to materialize out of nowhere and reprimand her not only for entering his quarters (despite his permission), but also for spraying a man with a mouthful of tea in public. Just wait till that reached his ears…
Hesitantly, she pushed open the second set of doors.
Bingo.
Nii-sama's bath. Modest, empty, with a separate bath and shower like hers, except that there were pretty little plants everywhere as if this were in the gardens outside and not enclosed between four walls. Honestly, it looked like one of those hot springs scattered around Seireitei, with the benefit of not having the general public frocking its grounds and entrances.
And no Nii-sama. Well, hopefully no Nii-sama, but there wasn't even a speck of evidence to suggest this was his at all. No toiletries, no personal effects, no sliver of reiatsu… She might've walked into a five star hotel, or, hell, Yamamoto's bathroom, and she wouldn't have known the difference.
The single sign of life was the bath, filled and piping hot. Great—it'd save her five. She stuffed her clothes in the corner and stepped into the shower, adjusting the showerhead to suit her miniscule height. The heat soothed her fraught nerves as she idled under the comforting spray.
Ichigo. Renji. If it weren't for them, she wouldn't be in this mess. Sure, she'd make it, but dressing would take the better part of half an hour even with an extra set of hands. At least she'd been able to have tea with Kiyone, but nothing was going as planned. Speaking of which…
Rukia grabbed the towel, then paused. She'd stayed longer than anticipated. But the water looked oh-so-inviting, and no bath was complete without a nice relaxing soak…
She left the towel on the counter and eased into the steaming water. Ohh, yes. Clearly she needed to unwind more often or possibly adjust her horrible posture at work. And while the barracks were decent, they were wanting when compared with this place. She'd have to grow a green thumb after the pipes were fixed, and…
Pipes. Apparently her tub wasn't the only thing in need of some decent plumbing. Her human classmates had asked the same question and she'd given them the same response—shock, some airborne beverage, an avidly assured no—they really were friends and nothing more. Whatever feelings she had, none amounted to anything more than friendship. Romance, and everything around that, was simply not her thing.
But Rukia wasn't ignorant. She had a sneaking suspicion that Kiyone's pushing her to choose someone had a rather close connection with the words Kotsubaki and betting, and while that was all in good fun, she just wasn't interested at the present time. Unfortunately Kiyone also had the persistence of a cockroach, but that didn't mean Rukia wouldn't do everything in her power to—
Bang!
Rukia shot up and twisted toward the door.
"Nii-sama!"
Nii-sama was in the bathroom with her, looking like he'd had a run-in with Sode no Shirayuki and wanted to melt off the face of Soul Society but was still stuck frozen to the spot. And for the second time in an hour Rukia was embarrassed, wet, and disconcerted with an audience. Her arms were pressed over her breasts, and her thighs clenched to preserve her modesty, but it did nothing to hide the fact that she was standing buck naked in front of Nii-sama.
Whose eyes ran over her entire body before he quickly averted his gaze.
"You are in my bath," he noted, for lack of anything else to say.
"I am," she replied, for lack of anything else to say.
Shit. Had she stolen his bath?
Worse, the towel was gone. She'd left it on the counter where it now dangled tauntingly beside Nii-sama. If she wanted it, she'd have to reach out past him to get it…which would only end up exposing her in the process.
That, or…
"Could you…pass me the towel please?" She nodded at it just as he turned.
He stopped. He'd been about to leave…but now that she'd asked, he couldn't just ignore her.
He turned back around again.
Before she could tell him never mind, he was picking up the fabric like a dead rodent, devoid of all emotion as he stared at a space somewhere near her ankle. She snapped it up, fumbling with a stupid fold that wouldn't open fast enough before shaking it out to shield herself. After regaining a tiny semblance of dignity, she turned.
"Thank you, Nii—"
He was gone. And he left the door open.
Fantastic. Rukia stepped out to close it when her towel grazed the counter and something clattered to the floor. Even before it stopped spinning, the dread in her throat told her she knew what it was.
His…kenseikan?
But he wouldn't have had time to fuss them out and put them there without noticing her unless…
What was Nii-sama doing? Didn't he remember all but ordering her to use his bathroom? Didn't he sense her? Cold heat washed over her as she stared at his hairpieces littering the damp tiles. No way they were here when she came in.
Exactly how long had he been standing there?
Whatever. It wasn't important. What was important was that her delicious soak had been a bit too long because her fingers were beginning to prune, which meant she was late. The dressing lady was going to be annoyed, and when the dressing lady was annoyed Rukia was always late. She pulled on a yukata and flashed to her room, hoping the rest of the house was in a better mood. She'd need it if she was going to be on time.
Byakuya stalked out, forgoing a shower in favor of a walk outside.
She hadn't even crossed his mind. In the years following Hisana's death, no one entered his room without his knowledge. The servants came in at precisely 9 a.m. after he left, and 4 p.m. before he returned. Rukia was never a part of it. After her adoption he'd been obligated to forge a real sibling relationship with her, but now that she worked at her own division, the times they saw each other were few and far between.
His pounding heart began to slow, but as it did, an unfamiliar weight settled in his chest. He wasn't sure what it was. Irritation? Mortification? Nostalgia?
Disappointment?
He frowned in disgust.
"Are you alright, Kuchiki-sama?"
Byakuya started. Getting caught unawares by two household members in five minutes was not something to which he needed bragging rights. He turned to face the young maid, then froze. She noticed something. Was he acting unnatural? Frowning too much? Walking too fast? Stuck with an inappropriate image in his head?
"Of course." He schooled his expression to betray no emotion. "Why do you ask?"
She waved a hand toward her petite, freckled face. "I think your nose is bleeding."
Byakuya stared at her as he cautiously dabbed at his nose. Sure enough, a thin trickle of red smudged across the backs of his knuckles. He stared at it before dropping his hand. "Thank you." He turned to the nearest exit, dabbing at his nose once more before stepping into the open air of the garden.
Strange. The last one he'd had was when a certain princess thought that the best way to convince him to play tag was to plant her foot in his face. That was a long time ago. Whatever caused it now was insignificant, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. But unfortunately left at the forefront were not only the upcoming proposals but also a very much naked Rukia, which was completely inappropriate, never mind their relationship. He could imagine Hisana, or perhaps visit her right then, but it probably wouldn't help. At all.
It was wrong. He should've turned on his heel and left—flash stepped, walked, anything. The door didn't matter. Getting caught didn't matter. What was disturbing was that he'd stayed and watched.
But it was an accident, just a simple misunderstanding. In a year he would be either married or dead—murdered by the family for failing to achieve the former—and any weird blips in their relationship would long be forgotten. It was sticking now because it only just happened.
His hair caught the early spring breeze, and he reached up to adjust the kenseikan. It wasn't there.
Oh…right.
He didn't feel like going back to retrieve it.
By the time the old dressing lady had chastised Rukia for being late and then taken her sweet time getting Rukia into her kimono, she really was running late, which was almost certainly the old maid's intention. She flash stepped to the far wing and cracked open the door, tiptoeing in so no one would notice her tardy entrance—
"You're late."
Rukia's mouth fell open.
It wasn't any surprise that she was late for her first meeting with the Taira. Between the teahouse spiel and bath fiasco it had become increasingly apparent that what Rukia needed to do, Rukia wasn't going to get done, especially if it involved going anywhere on the proper watch. She expected to be scolded because she deserved it.
But that wasn't the half of it. At the other end of the room stood Nii-sama, who'd just seen more of her than she ever hoped again, engaged in discussion with the man who was probably Taira. He was older and larger than Nii-sama, bearded and greying with lines of stress on his squarish yellow face. Beside him was a withered old man who was probably his advisor, Denbei. She'd heard him to be impatient and prejudiced toward those of impure blood, which was just swell given her own adopted status. Needless to say, the guy was ancient. Centuries of advising heads of house had made him a tad bit bitter, and given he was over a thousand years old, it was safe to say he was a little old-fashioned as well. She'd heard plenty of stories about this old geezer, but it was her first time actually meeting the guy.
The guy she spewed on that very evening.
And, judging by his acerbic glare, he remembered her too.
Shit.
"Now, dear, please be seated." Fudo, Nii-sama's own advisor, shuttled her toward a seat. She crossed the room on legs of jelly, praying she wouldn't be seated within ten feet of the guy as he continued to glower murder.
Her seat was across from his.
It could've been a good thing. Looking at it one way, she wouldn't have to wait for Nii-sama to find out, which was a good thing because she wasn't sure she could look at him now even if she wanted to. Looking at it another way, she wouldn't face him, or anyone else for that matter. This guy would finish her with his bare hands.
"Good evening," she muttered. She bowed low, infinitely glad her hair hid the cringe growing bigger by the second. If only one of Yachiru's secret trapdoors would open up and swallow her right about now…
Taira smiled, bowing politely. "Pleasure to meet you. I've heard so much about you, Kuchiki Rukia."
Rukia couldn't help but wonder what 'so much about you' consisted of.
After enduring the finer points of epic embarrassment, dinner commenced without a hitch. Rukia made a point to not make eye contact with anyone except Fudo, who was too near-sighted to see beyond his bowl of rice anyway. No one seemed interested in her either, but that was a good thing. Better to be forgotten than to have attention drawn unnecessarily.
Her lonely meal was dinner fit for a king. The table was loaded with everything from grilled jewfish with sesame and tamari to roast duck and udon, garnished with sweet sauces and steamed greens and a million pickled sides. The company may have been less than desirable, but gorging herself on the delicious offerings presented a suitable distraction.
She was careful with the tea though. God knew she didn't need another screw up to seal her fate, not with her target facing her dead on and Nii-sama right beside her.
Fudo cleared his throat. "As you know, we have begun discussing potential marriages for our clan."
Rukia froze, spoonful of broth halfway to her mouth.
The family wanted Nii-sama to remarry? Or…her?
"It is difficult finding suitable partners," Taira said, directing his glance slowly and imperiously around the table before landing on Rukia. "Many of the old families have fallen, and with our dwindling numbers, matters only become more difficult. Although it is possible to intermarry with commoners—" At this, he nodded respectfully to Nii-sama, "it seems troublesome, since they are not of blood, nor educated, and given great power might use their newfound influence for personal gain."
"Indeed," Denbei said suddenly. "Most are contemptible spirits who spit upon noble pride."
The silence that followed this little revelation was more awkward than everything previous. Rukia stared blankly at a piece of tofu, wondering why she hadn't been taught any suicide techniques at the Academy because right now felt like a good time to use one.
"Really," Nii-sama mused. She looked up at him, but he was staring at their guests. "I am not sure you have met with the finer points of civility, even if it only be respectful distance," he said, clearly oblivious to the thinly veiled reference of today's teahouse mishap. "I doubt most would approach with the intention of trampling his pride."
Rukia could've laughed. Any "respectful distance" had less to do with class and more to do with the fact that he was Kuchiki Byakuya. No one was going to stomp on his pride unless you were Ichigo or suicidally stupid (or both), but he'd never been in a position to experience otherwise so she couldn't exactly blame him.
Denbei raised a brow. "So you've never been given trouble? Or, say…spat upon?" He looked straight at Rukia. "Because I have."
Rukia made a mental note to hang herself after dessert.
What, oh what did she do to deserve this? It was only a little tea, and…god, she should've chosen fiery red or tawny orange just so she wouldn't die a total virgin in everyone's eyes. She hadn't even gotten her first kiss yet! And now, here she was, kissing virginity intact and planning her own funeral.
But apparently Nii-sama was unwilling to argue with a decrepit old man because the conversation was suddenly over. She peeked at him, wondering what prompted him to defend the common blood. He'd had reasonably decent experiences with commoners, but there were many he detested and since she was a noble now, offending her sensibilities shouldn't have been an issue. If Nii-sama had a criticism to make, he was not inclined to holding it back.
Her face heated. He never reprimanded her for being late. In present company that would be inappropriate, so perhaps he was saving it for after they left?
But then, that would bring up why she'd been late, and she was certain neither of them wanted to touch that with a ten foot zanpakutou. But what if he hadn't offered? What if he'd insinuated that she needed a bath, and she'd mistaken that for using his bath, and—
"You're quiet."
Rukia snapped up to see Taira staring. Again. "Me?"
"Yes. You haven't spoken once since our introduction." A small smile played on his lips. "Are you always so quiet, or does this conversation bother you?"
"No, um…" What conversation would that be? "I…felt it was not my place to interrupt."
"Well?" Taira pressed. "Since you are not noble by birth, are commoners who assimilate any different from purebloods?"
Denbei grunted.
"Well…" Rukia glanced around. All eyes were on her except Nii-sama's. "I am a Kuchiki now. I don't think about what I used to be…just what I am, and what my duties are now. There is no point in thinking otherwise."
Taira nodded slowly. "Good answer."
The conversation turned to other dumb issues circulating the aristocracy. Rukia finished her meal in silence. Kingly desserts were brought out to tempt her, and after a rather hellish day she treated herself to a bowl of oshiruko. Fudo excused himself early, and judging by the darkened windows, night was falling fast.
"Before our evening comes to a close, I do have a request," Taira said. "Forgive me for being so forward, but I humbly seek your permission to access the Kuchiki family's historical records."
The Kuchiki and 6th Division were the keepers and recorders of Soul Society history, sure, but it wasn't often someone came asking to look through it. There were countless lifetimes, millennia of information contained in those tomes that no one really cared about. She wondered what piqued his interest.
So did Nii-sama, because he considered the man carefully. "Why?"
"I'm undertaking a project that requires in-depth knowledge of Soul Society's history, but the information I'm looking for is not open to the public, nor in any library." Taira tilted his head. "I was hoping the great Kuchiki house would be able to aid me in my search."
"I should inform you that unless you carry a direct order from Central 46, I am not willing to grant access," Byakuya said flatly. "The records are under our watch and are not public domain. It surprises me you even ask."
Taira leaned back. "Of course! I figured I would try." He nodded agreeably, as if he would've come to the same verdict. "I would like to be as clear with my intentions as possible. Wouldn't want you to think we were sneaking or some other such nonsense." His smile broke into a grin, and he laughed, a big belly laugh. "As one would expect of you, Kuchiki Byakuya."
Rukia frowned. He was expecting to be denied? Then why bother asking?
Taira rose with some effort. "Thank you for having us, and the generous dinner. It was a feast."
"Not at all."
Taira glanced at Denbei, then at Rukia. "And Rukia, my dear…"
Pure panic seared hot in her veins. He was going to tell!
Taira smiled. "Forgive me for not conversing more with such a lovely young lady," he said. "We will have to talk more another time."
Rukia blinked. Her gaze darted toward Nii-sama for support. He still wasn't looking at her. "Um…"
Nii-sama suddenly stood up. "As you seem to be leaving, allow me to see you out."
"Oh, we're on our way," Taira said, waving him off. "There's no need for you to escort us."
"The pleasure is mine."
This was all in good manners, of course, but something in Nii-sama's tone didn't match the politeness of his words. Nevertheless Taira was all smiles, matching him perfectly for politeness as they made it to the door. Soon Rukia was peeking over (under) his shoulder, watching their backs as they disappeared into the dark.
Suddenly, it was just Nii-sama and her.
He'd never been much of a conversationalist, to be sure, but since her near execution he'd been a bit more companionable, acting like family at arm's length rather than a complete and total stranger. But tonight he hadn't said so much as a word. This was a coldness different from his usual distance, and after spending the entire night by herself, Rukia felt he was giving her an unfair cold shoulder.
This was confirmed when he walked past without a word.
"Nii-sama," she blurted.
He stopped, turning just slightly, though she still couldn't see his face.
What should she say? Now that Rukia had his attention, she didn't actually want it. She hadn't planned on speaking to him after the incident earlier. But something was off between them—an awkward silence, instead of a companionable one—and now he was waiting for her to speak while she stood there at a total loss for words. Should she apologize for the bath incident? Or pretend it didn't happen and bid him goodnight?
Rukia studied what little she could make of his face, from the dark locks pulled into the reappeared ivory hairpieces to his fine cheekbone and flawless jawline. From what she could see, there was nothing that encouraged or discouraged her from continuing.
"I'm sorry," she said, floundering for an excusable explanation. But now she didn't know whether she was making amends for the bath incident or for calling his attention. "I thought you told me…um…"
Sadly she seemed to be heading toward the former.
"Um…I-I didn't think you would—"
"It's nothing."
Rukia looked up, irrationally hoping to gauge something from his face. But somewhere between her studying the floor and stammering for a response, he'd turned away again.
He was angry. But at what? Angry he'd walked into his quarters and found her indecent? Or at Taira for making a ludicrous request knowing he'd be declined, thereby wasting everyone's time? It had to be her. As cold as he'd acted toward Taira, that was how he always was. Usually he'd acknowledge her, using her name or nodding to her in acknowledgement. Usually he would look at her when she spoke, if only for a moment.
Usually, he would reprimand her for being late.
She should not have taken the offer. Or at least she should've sought him out to confirm it. Because for some reason, it felt like how it used to be—before Soukyoku, before they were siblings, before she was anything more than a Rukongai hatstand in the Kuchiki home.
And as she stood there in the open hall, she realized something else: That she didn't know whether she'd done the right thing to apologize, or if she'd only pushed him farther away.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review! As you can tell, this is my first fic, so your feedback is genuinely appreciated. =]
