Hinamori's next concern, in the flustered panic that took hold of her after accepting Kuchiki Byakuya's kind, strange offer of tea, was that she had nothing nice enough to wear to the iKuchiki estate/i she emphasized to her captain, holding the damning handwritten invitation out to him. (Apparently the verbal query had been only a confirmation that he was allowed to send the elegantly thick paper version along to her division.
She knew Hirako-taichou well enough by now to anticipate the drawling answer that he was sure anything would be fine, since Kuchiki was the one giving the invitation, wasn't he? This, naturally, did not help her panic in the slightest. "Besides, knowin' that stick in th' mud, any help I'd give ya would probably be 'inappropriate' or somethin."
Knowing this to be true, she smiled at his joke and begged off a few minutes early to go commiserate at Abarai over the strange behavior of his captain and maybe get some advice from him. She ended up detouring at first the Third Divsion, to arrange a meeting with Kira too, as soon as he was able to get away, and then the Tenth, to charm Hitsugaya into letting Matsumoto go early. The strategy, of course, being to send in Matsumoto to fetch Renji on the off-chance the captain of the Sixth had not himself decamped.
Of course, her slightly unnerved state caught Hitsugaya's attention immediately (though she hadn't wished to worry him), and he asked bluntly what was wrong, the threats to kill, maim, or at least sternly glare at who or whatever was bothering her left implicit.
"It's nothing!" She laughed nervously and insincerely, and he eyed her even more suspiciously, even as Matsumoto's curiosity grew. "It's just... I've been invited for tea, and I don't know what to wear, you see," she informed him, hoping his lack of sartorial wisdom would get him off her back.
It worked, yes, though not as well as she would have liked, or expected. It seemed her nearly dying (twice) had made him somewhat more paranoid when it came to, well. Her. "By who?"
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she let vent a little sigh, reaching for her fellow lieutenant's hand. "Kuchiki-taichou. It's probably just a business thing," she dismissed his worries with a wave of her hand, explaining the worry over what to wear as well.
Matsumoto's perfectly-groomed eyebrows shot up towards her hairline, even as she let herself be pulled along by the shorter woman. "Kuchiki-taichou? Byakuya Kuchiki-taichou?"
"Well, yes. Unless his sister became a captain while no one was watching." It was a small attempt at humor that fell mostly flat as she rushed Matsumoto out of the office, Hitsugaya watching them every step of the way, but making no move to follow before or after Hinamori slid the door shut.
A moment of consideration from Matsumoto was followed with a remark of, "Well, I can see why you're worried about what to wear now." A frown creased her features and voice. "iIs/i it for business then? I mean, there's always your uniform, that's always appropriate, if not the most stylish of choices," she couldn't help but editorialize.
Hinamori shook her head. "He didn't say. So I think..." She paused now that they were outside the division compound. "I think maybe Abarai-kun might know something?" It was a bit of a long shot, but by all reports, ever since the whole Rukia 'Thing', as Hinamori was quickly learning to categorize it as, Kuchiki-taichou had become ever so slightly iless/i rigid, in a few ways. Mostly ways pertaining to his adoptive sister, but some few others as well. 'Seems like the stick up his ass got a little shorter', Abarai-kun had put it, never one for delicacy.
Matsumoto looked doubtful at this idea. However, there were worse places to start, so she dutifully followed her friend-and-fellow-lieutenant in the direction of the Sixth Division. "Or you could ask his sister, she might know!" Matsumoto put in helpfully. Hinamori thought about this, but decided to ask Renji first. After all, Hinamori was much closer to him than to the lady of the Kuchiki house, so she felt more comfortable starting there.
Because Renji was finishing up a few last items of paperwork, the two women had to wait outside the Sixth Division for a few minutes, Hinamori having sent Rangiku in as her scout, who hadn't reported back any encounters with the... she hesitated from using the words 'target' or 'enemy', but couldn't think of many better.
Finally, Renji emerged, looking more than ready to go having a drink with two lovely ladies, he called them with a grin. Matsumoto replied with a grin of her own, and Hinamori too, though hers was considerably more strained. Renji frowned at her. "What's wrong, Hinamori-kun?"
She shook her head, keeping the smile she felt was festive enough. "It's silly, it's nothing. I'll tell you when we get there."
Making a doubtful noise in the back of his throat, he nonetheless walked with them in the direction of the cozy, not-too-expensive, not-too-cheap-and-grungy drinking-and-eating establishment the group of them favored. Soon, the lot of them were distracted by the assortment of interesting foods on plates and the infinitely more interesting array of beverages to fill their glasses, Kira's arrival only adding to all of this.
To Hinamori's surprise, it was Matsumoto who brought the subject back up, clearly burning with curiosity still. "So, Momo, you have an invitation to drink tea with the captain at his estate, hm~?" She put emphasis in all the right places to make Hinamori blush furiously, of course.
"Yes, but I don't know why at all," she tilted her half-full sake cup, staring at it as if it might hold the answers she hadn't gotten out of the stoic captain or his louder subordinate yet.
Renji, when Kira and Matsumoto turned to eye him, shrugged expansively. "That stick of his may've gotten less stiff lately," he informed them. "But if it's somethin' to do with squad business he hasn't told me." He let the other lieutenants figure out the likelihood of it being squad business then, if that was the case.
Matsumoto leaned her chin in her hands pensively. "So, probably not the uniform then, even with sprucing up."
Hinamori bristled just slightly. "Who said I needed 'sprucing up'?" She asked indignantly, only belied the tiniest bit by flushed cheeks and bright eyes.
There then ensued a teasing session between the four of them that only ended when a drink was spilled and too much mention of cleavage in the vicinity of his delicate ears had caused a minor nosebleed for Abarai, Kira slipping between worry for Renji, blushing in his own embarrassment, and amusement at the two women. Blood and alcohol cleaned up, they fell back into their comfortable silence for a bit, punctuated by drifting conversations as the night grew later. Finally the four of them agreed it was probably time to go back if they had any intention of being anything like useful tomorrow.
Hinamori was about to turn and make her way back to the Fifth Division when Matsumoto spun her around (the world flashing dizzily for a moment), before declaring that, no, Hinamori was coming with her because surely her closet had to have isomething/i that would work, and Hinamori, protesting weakly that while this was perhaps true could they please find something with a little more modesty than Matsumoto usually preferred, followed, Matsumoto's laugh ringing in the early-summer night air behind them.
She did, indeed, dive into her closet upon reaching her quarters in the Tenth. It was far better organized than Hinamori, if pressed, would have imagined, various outfits, mostly skirts and pretty tops, from the living world on one side, the other filled with nicely hung kimono and yukata from Soul Society on the other, her uniforms at the back. To Hinamori's great relief, she focused her attention, after a few brief, rejected considerations from the other side, on what Hinamori thought of as the 'proper' side of things. After all, so many of those blouses, while close-fitting on Rangiku, would have hung like tents on Hinamori.
Consideration was being narrowed down between a few different choices Rangiku said would go best with her admittedly different coloring when Hinamori felt her eyelids growing heavy. Not wanting to interrupt Rangiku when she was on a roll, though, she kept quiet.
When Rangiku next turned around, a deep blue obi in her hands, she realized Momo had fallen asleep, right there among the lengths of silk and cotton. Shaking her head fondly, she touched Hinamori's shoulder to wake her just enough to offer to share the futon with her friend, an offer Momo took up with sleepy acquiescence, leaving questions like 'what does one wear to tea at the estate of one of the four noble families?' aside for the morning.
Renji knew something about it.
Byakuya was not in the habit of sharing his personal life with his lieutenant overly much, and in turn, Byakuya expected the same of him (except, of course, where such matters touched on his sister). But he could tell. Perhaps Renji thought he was being subtle, with those side-long glances and curious frowns.
He had certainly not chosen his lieutenant for an over-abundance of subtly, that much was clear.
Still, Byakuya was, by this point, skilled at ignoring Renji's quirks and odd notions. Still, it was stunningly clear to him Renji was puzzling over that invitation Byakuya had sent to one Hinamori Momo, still lieutenant of the Fifth Division. Byakuya did not see fit to dignify Renji's unspoken curiosity with any kind of response and the day passed swiftly, if not without its minor irritations.
Though he in no way let it show, Byakuya was... nervous wasn't exactly how he would put it, even to himself. That would imply there was any doubt that this meeting would go perfectly. Doubt over what the meeting was even about, however... He'd made the offer on something like a whim, except Kuchiki Byakuya did not have whims. And he certainly did not back those whims up with written invitations. Still, he'd sent the invitation; it would be rude to back out now, especially seeing as he was the one who had extended it.
He left the division office with Renji still craning his neck after him, pausing only slightly when his lieutenant worked up the nerve to offer an over-cheerful, "Have a good time tonight, sir!" to his captain. Byakuya did not dignify that with any more response than a slight nod.
More things Byakuya did not do included worry, dither around uselessly, or over-instruct the staff. They knew quite well what they were doing, preparing tea and little snacks and all the necessary things for properly entertaining a guest while he, in order to not give the mistaken impression that this was about business (otherwise he would have informed Renji), slid out of his haori (not the standard captain's one anymore, not wanting to wear a garment so similar to the three traitors that had started what was becoming colloquially known as the Winter War) and the rest of his uniform, the kenseikan in his hair staying in their new place.
He emerged from his rooms, re-dressed and freshened from the long day, to meet the guest he could hear being ushered through the inner hallways.
As expected, everything was laid out perfectly for him, as he took his seat nearest to the door. Moments later it slid open, propelled by the hands of one of the maids, who bowed her charge into the room. Hinamori Momo stepped in on politely hesitant feet, kneeling perfectly when Byakuya waved her to the seat across from him.
Truth be told, he had half expected her to come to tea in her uniform. After all, even if the topic was not business, it was at least appropriate to wear in front of a captain of the Gotei Thirteen.
Instead, from somewhere, she had found a light blue kimono with a graceful wisteria pattern in white, tones of pink and yellow against the background set off by the pink obi, matching pink glittery things dangling from the simple stick in her hair and the faint blush on her cheeks. He was glad he had the doors open to the veranda and garden on one side of the room, a faint breeze bringing the scent of fresh leaves and still closed buds. How had she known, he wondered, to choose a kimono with that particular pattern, that so complimented the not-yet-bloomed tree just outside? Certainly, he detected the helping hand of another in her attire, but nothing about it was objectionable, even by his standards. "I am pleased you could make it, Hinamori-san."
She bowed gracefully from her seated position, setting that sparkly thing in her hair into motion again. "Thank you very much for the invitation, Kuchiki-t-" she paused, swallowing the customary title, replacing it with "-sama" with little lost grace. Slipping her hands to her lap where she had placed it, she offered her visiting-gift with a demurring he was quite sure she didn't mean as simple rote. His own part was, in fact, offered with reluctance until she insisted and he took the wrapped box from her hands, placing it at his side, wanting to know just what she could have gotten him. It's an improper curiosity on his part, and he wondered where it had arisen from, even as he served the tea and, at a subtle motion from him, a servant brought in a tray of gracefully assembled and arranged delicacies to go with the tea.
Surprisingly, to him, the conversation neither stalled nor turned toward professional matters. Hinamori didn't have the tendency to chatter aimlessly one might have suspected her of, but made interesting, positive comments on the tea, or the food, or the loveliness of the weather, even as the sun sank toward the Western walls, all matched by his own agreement or added statement. There were, of course, things they had some degree of disagreement on, but she took those in stride with good humor, though she never went so far as to quite compromise her position on something, once taken, he noted, even if she to had skirt and slide around doing so with all the grace of a dancer.
Byakuya realized he'd been afraid that the girl was not, in fact, what she seemed to be during the day. That she would turn out to be more like Matsumoto, perhaps, or worse, his lieutenant, in private. But she had been nothing but polite, humble, and very much engaging and above all, still very sweet, even to him, a confirmed widower so far above her and her Rukongai origins he might as well be the stars, managing to do so without being condescending or too terrified of him and his status. He supposed she had touched greatness, even as it had sought to be rid of her, and been changed by it, even as she was blinded by it, as the rest of them had been.
The tea was long gone and the assortment of food long since picked over with discerning eyes. He should send her home now, he knew. It was getting on toward supper, and she probably had plans, but the sun was just finishing setting and the lamps throughout the house were being lit in preparation for nightfall.
He blamed the twilight for planting the whim in his head, this time, and the sound of early-summer crickets luring him into going along with it. "Forgive me, for keeping you so late... but if it would not be disagreeable to you, would you care to join me in a walk about the garden?"
Hinamori's lips parted in a silent 'o' of astonishment. She had expected her dismissal, not an invitation to remain for a little while longer. After a moment's hesitation, she bowed to him from her still-seated position. "I do not wish to intrude further upon your time..." He braced himself. It sounded like a rejection. "But if Kuchiki-sama is certain?" He nodded easily, once. "Then I would love to."
With nothing more than a word aside to another maid, their shoes were waiting for them after a moment's wait and she slipped into her zori as easily as if they had been what she wore every day. In the deepening twilight, they set off along the garden path. She followed just a step or so behind him, letting him guide her, clearly admiring the immaculately kept garden with an interest that didn't quite border on true understanding. Everything was so cultivated here, she noted as they rounded the pond, still in the rising moonlight. He mentioned that one of the gardens on the grounds was kept as a garden of the sort that looked nearly wild, even though meticulously kept that way, it was true. Hinamori offered tentatively that she would very much like to see that, one day, and he, gratifying himself with her little shock of surprise and smile of genuine pleasure that followed, offered.
A moment later, her attention was caught by someone standing on the veranda, and he turned, recognizing his adoptive sister's slight figure, still in uniform from the day. He hoped Ukitake had not been keeping her overly long. He had not allowed her to be promoted only for the captain to grind her down as a workhorse.
Drifting in that direction forced Hinamori to follow, and she dropped a bow as soon as they were close enough for Rukia to recognize the woman that accompanied her brother. "Hinamori-fukutaichou. How pleasant to see you outside of our work duties."
Hinamori's answering smile was full of unfeigned cordiality. "Likewise, Kuchiki-fukutaichou." Byakuya figured the two women had seen each other at least a few times at lieutenant's meetings and perhaps those Shinigami Women's Association meetings he had been to a few times. And they both knew his lieutenant, didn't they?
Rukia turned her attention back to Byakuya, her only concession to curiosity the slightest lift of her eyebrows-not nearly enough to be considered rude, of course, but present still. "I have been informed that Nii-sama has not yet taken supper."
He nodded his confirmation. "Yes, I see." He turned to the woman at his side, taking this exchange in quietly, nodded to her in place of a bow. "I am afraid I have capitalized far too much of your time, Hinamori-san."
She bowed properly, the moonlight and lamplight glinting more subtly off the charm in her hair. "Not at all, Kuchiki-sama. It was my pleasure. I'll be leaving then," she rightly took this as her cue to go, and was escorted back out of the estate by the waiting attendants.
His guest dispatched home, Byakuya made his way to the dining room, Rukia at his side. Even from here he could feel her burning inquisitiveness, tamped down only by the knowledge that it would be rude to interrogate her brother over the matter of a guest. Secretly, he was grateful for her silence, and made a resolution to only tell her the bare bones of things. Rukia could know the reasons he had for inviting the slight, quiet, fierce little lieutenant here. Just as soon as he knew them himself.