Where Cherry Blossoms Fall
Chapter Seven:
Morning draped its luscious curtain across the mountain, birds chirping energetically in the rapidly changing light. The air tasted of dew, brisk and green. The woman rolled to her side beneath the comforter, snuggling into the futon below. It felt too good to get up today.
As dawn approached, and the sweet chill of morning dissipated, Sakura dreamed.
Her mind took her on a journey to another place, somewhere far away and long ago, where the idea of lounging beneath trees and laughing in the sunlight embraced her eagerly.
All above her they scattered gently, like snow, fluttering in the lofty breeze. Cherry blossoms, pink and ripe and everywhere. Like delicate notes on the wind they danced to their own graceful rhythm.
She watched one float down like a cloud, falling to dust her kimono. The woman took it in her hand and breathed deep the soft petal's scent. So sweet.
A masculine voice reached her through the haze. Words of endearment. His hand held her shoulder where she lay in the crook of his arm. She heard the smile in his voice. The light played with his features as he spoke to her, taking another petal gently from her hair. He, too, breathed in its bouquet, relishing in the light addition of her unique perfume.
In the brightness the woman could make out only his eyes, watching her with love. In a breathless moment her hand found his. Fingers entwined sweetly. Her heart soared. And those eyes, so kind, so beautiful, held her in their grey depths. "Forever", he told her, kissing her cheek.
"I shall love you forever...Hisana."
Sakura woke with a start. For a moment she didn't know where she was. Fragments of memory stirred her, left her wanting. Sounds which had been dampened by sleep flooded back to her ears.
Birds outside her window sang the song of morning. She listened to them, held onto this rock as the sea of confusion swam past. Something scuttled outside on the engawa between her room and the path to the main office buildings. The woman turned at the sound. Experience told her it would be a squirrel, but her senses were on edge.
That dream remained affecting her. The details had simmered away, fuzzy and faded with time. But the emotions coursing through her heart imprinted their memory.
Light filtered in through slots of wood and shoji. Warmth which promised a humid day trickled into the room.
Sitting up on her bedding, the woman rubbed sleep from her eyes and stretched.
It had been just a dream even though it seemed so real. How strange to be swept away by such a thing. She couldn't explain why it had left her so empty. Even as she got up and gathered the futon for airing out, Sakura's heart beat a rapid song of frustration.
She found herself longing for something unknown. The odd sensation kept her dizzy that morning, trying to decide what it all could have meant.
She could still feel the warmth of that man's arm around her. His voice like liquid sunlight. And those eyes, so grey, so beautiful...Sakura hadn't gotten a very clear look at them, and with each passing second they seemed to fade a little more, but in her heart she knew the intimacy of their gaze.
If she didn't know any better, the woman would have sworn it was the same man from the souvenir booth last night. But that was impossible. She'd only just met him.
Byakuya Kuchiki. The name was familiar, yes, but to someone who could see and converse with spirits, familiarity meant very little. Maybe it only sounded similar to another name she'd heard in passing.
Sakura wouldn't admit the strange pull she had to the man. Why after only one meeting her heart now burnt a little candle in hopes of meeting again, when the idea was ludicrous. How many people came through the shrine? How many faces did she see in a day? She'd probably never see that man again.
Sighing, the woman dressed and put a kettle on.
This small shack was her private living quarters, complete with a bedroom that doubled as living space when she wasn't sleeping, a hearth, and an updated bathroom. Although modest it was enough for the young woman. A small alcove and a scroll sat at one end of the four-tatami sized room. On the other, away from the damaging light of the sun, an elaborate kimono hung to air out. It had been her mother's and her grandmother's before that.
Sakura had never worn it herself. It was fit for a princess, too delicate for everyday use, too rich for a festival. Her eyes danced across the pink silk, watched it bleed to pure white where plum blossoms played and cranes soared high. How she wished to see those long sleeves sway in the breeze.
It seemed the opportunity would never come.
During holidays and festivals, it was here in this small apartment the girl was instructed to stay. She never even went to her own coming of age festival. Uncle Tetsuno had made the necessary arrangements for Sakura to be well secluded from the rest of the shrine's facilities. To avoid "embarrassment", as he called the complications of her condition. The only time she was permitted to roam freely was during her duties as miko.
Her home was a good trek to the main stretch of Shrine buildings, and almost a half mile from the lodging houses beyond that.
In the seventh year she'd come to live at Hisakawa Shrine the old man had turned the ancestral home of Nobushige Hisakawa into a dormitory. Uncle Tetsuno had stripped the building of its wealth in history, replacing all the old wood and painted panels with modern drywall and metal beams to mimic that of an old-world flair. None of its previous beauty shined through now, Sakura thought. It was all too fake.
But this place, her place, was perfect the way it was. Over the years it had developed a personality all the money in the world could not recreate. Sipping her tea, Sakura closed her eyes and listened to the busy forest around her.
Elsewhere, a man showered. The water was still a bit too cold as it struck his shoulders, running errant paths down his back and past his hips. Byakuya hadn't gotten used to modern plumbing.
Either it was hot enough to scald flesh or cold enough to have his teeth chattering. At the moment the water fell somewhere in between, tolerable but only just. Out of fear that he'd end up with something much worse the man had left well enough alone.
The day had so far been full of new experiences.
Humans slept on beds so unlike his own. Metal frames made storing impossible. Taking them apart took far too long to be practical. The man had no idea how his servants did these chores day in and day out.
He'd gotten almost through the sheeting when Byakuya discovered the under padding to be unyielding. It simply wouldn't fold. Big, boxy, and cumbersome. Who had designed such a contraption?
Out of frustration he'd pulled the thing outside to the veranda and propped it bodily up against the building.
Then there was the issue of unfamiliar wildlife. He'd been sitting on the floor where his bed had previously laid, a strange high-pitched chirping suddenly sounding from the table. In a slash of metal and broken plastic Byakuya had killed the disturbing bird with his sword. From a curly string its remains hung bobbing and whirling in confusion. What kind of creature had it been? Certainly nothing natural.
In celebration of his victory, he'd gone to take a bath. What a surprise it had been to find a tall narrow cubicle were a proper tub should be! Byakuya had to ask the receptionist in the lobby how to fill it up.
She'd been very understanding despite her obvious shock.
"Good morning, sir," she'd said, brightly. The woman hadn't yet known Byakuya would ruin her day. "How are you enjoying your stay?"
"I find it adequate." The man lazily moved a strand of hair behind his shoulder, eliciting a soft appreciative sigh from the woman behind the counter. "I wonder if you might tell me how it is I'm supposed to fill my tub? It's rather...vertical."
"Uh..."
"I tried plugging the drain and closing the door, but the tub hardly held more than an inch of water. It appears there may be a problem with the door sealant."
"I'm sorry sir, but...um...it's a shower."
To his blank expression the woman's face twisted with discomfort.
"You know," she waved her manicured hand at him as if it were some inside joke, "a shower. You stand in it."
Byakuya made no attempt at understanding. Why would he want to stand in a tub?
"You...you turn on the water and...well...you stand there." The woman blushed profusely now, imagining the stunning man before her naked. Was he flirting with her?
"And then what?" Byakuya asked dryly. He was bored.
The young receptionist practically squirmed in embarrassment. This was torture! "And then, you, um...get some soap and w-wash..."
Instinctively her eyes dropped to the inevitable. Blush exploded on her face.
"Oh, no! No I can't, no! I'm engaged, sir!"
"I see. But that still does not answer my question. How do I fill up the tub?"
"You...can't..."
"Ah. You're absolutely right. Please have one of your servants come to my room and prepare my bath instead." With that Byakuya headed back to his room, quite unimpressed. Why he had tried to live without servants was anyone's guess.
With eyes the size of saucers, the receptionist fainted.
Washing the soap from his long hair, the man leaned back and caught some of the tepid water on his face, wiping sleep from his skin. No one ever did come to his room. Out of desperation he'd played around with the odd combination of knobs and levers until water came out.
Today was going to be perfect. It had to be. Byakuya hadn't gone through so much trouble to have his plans fall apart again.
He was going to get Hisana back.
Upon Urahara's suggestion, Byakuya had rented a room at Hisakawa Shrine. How surprising it was to find a shrine open to vacationers. His last trip to the human world hadn't been privy such strange ways. Shrines were for priests and priestesses and no one else.
The accommodations weren't anything compared to Kuchiki manor, but it wasn't bad here. Better than living in a closet. How Rukia enjoyed staying with Ichigo, Byakuya would never try to understand. It was unnatural.
Posing as a young college man from a visiting town, the captain had successfully found a means to be near Hisana without over staying his welcome. As Urahara had pointed out, she'd be a lot more willing to accept his presence here if he played the part.
"No."
"Just think about it," the unkempt man lounged back against a pillow and folded his arm behind his head.
That damned hat was still keeping Byakuya from making eye contact. He eyed the shopkeeper's attire with a frown, instead. Inverted Captain's uniform, open informal clogs. Such a blatant insult to Soul Society.
A small cup of sake went up to Urahara's mouth and back down again.
"Say you just keep showing up there, day after day. Eventually this woman - Sakura, was it? - will start to wonder. No one visits a shrine that much anymore, especially when they aren't even praying.
"The fastest way to scare the girl off is to stalk her."
Byakuya looked at the door. Why had he even come? Whatever weakness had possessed him to seek this man out for advice had clearly abandoned him to his stupidity. "I cannot stalk my own wife."
"Wrong." Kisuke adjusted himself on the pillow, relaxing further into the downy plush. A sandaled foot shifted back and forth rhythmically as he smiled. "Hisana was your wife. Sakura isn't."
At Byakuya's insistence otherwise, Urahara amended, "Sakura is the reincarnation of Hisana, true. But she knows nothing of your marriage to Hisana. Nothing of you, for that matter. And you really don't know her, either.
"Face it, Kuchiki; you're going to have to date your wife."
Perfectly reasonable for a young man on a budget to stay in a cheap, scenic venue, he went on to say. It would also explain Byakuya's being seen around the Shrine. Still, the proud man could not simply accept this.
"No."
Urahara smiled. His gray eyes danced suddenly beneath the rim of his hat, exposing their devious nature for all it was worth. "Don't think she'll fall in love with you again, do you?"
At this, Byakuya stood to leave.
"Don't worry," Kisuke called after him, choking on laughter and sake. "Sakura may not be Hisana, but that doesn't mean Hisana won't try to be Sakura."
Byakuya rounded on the shopkeeper. "And that means what, exactly?"
"Something tells me you already know."
"Excuse me."
With that, the Captain swept from the store, leaving a man in the hat behind to smile.