"You know.. this is getting a bit weird, Abarai. Are you sure you are ok? Has an obsession, depression or some other -sion word gotten ya? Should we get a doctor?"
Renji sighed. What made it extremely annoying was that Ikkaku was actually saying that with a straight face. He was very concerned, and he was not the only one. Renji could tell it from the odd looks of everyone who entered his cube and the silent whispers surrounding him in the cafeteria.
"You've heard about Abarai yet? He is so hardcore Zenbonzakura fan it isn't even funny anymore."
"Yeah. They say he has covered his walls with his texts and studies them every night. It's creepy."
"I heard that he wants to find out who he is."
"That's impossible, mate."
"I know it. He doesn't."
And so on. Bastards, spreading rumors behind his back. Renji just hoped that all of those dimwits had the gut to come and say that to his face, so he could punch them for it.
However, they weren't completely off the case even if a bit misled. Renji wasn't trying to find out who Zenbonzakura was, he knew it already. What he wanted to know was where that guy had been hiding all these years and, even more importantly, where was he now. Even a mere thought about finding him again, talking to him again made his fist grasping the edge of the table tighten, knuckles whitened.
"Dude. You should answer when people are talking to ya, you know."
For the first time during their one-sided discussion, Renji looked up. Ikkaku could see that at least the rumors about the man's sleepless nights were correct. Plus, even his cube was filled with the texts of that man, the genius writer who wrote almost anything.
Renji himself waved his hand dismissively and presented Ikkaku one of his famous grins. "It ain't like you to be worrying like that, Ikkaku. There is nothing wrong, I'm just a major fanboy. Even you must realize that he is pretty awesome."
"Sure. Still, I have feeling there is something about this whole thing you're not telling..." Ikkaku looked suspicious.
"It's all in your head. Maybe it's you that should get it checked." To underline his not existing interest in the matter, Renji slowly picked his nose, keeping his gaze on Ikkaku the whole time.
The bald man made a face. "Whatever, man. Geez, I was just trying to be helpful. You seriously lack respect towards your senpais." He grunted, turned around and slammed the door on his way out. Renji smirked. What a temper.
Zenbonzakura. During the last six months, that name had made itself known all over the contry. He had published a few novels, more than a few short story collections and plethora of poetry and lyrics. The amount of writings had even lead to speculations of Zenbonzakura being a group rather than a person. Renji snorted at the thought. Yeah right, like that style could be copied.
Renji had read so many documents written by Byakuya that he had memorized his way of writing, twisting words and sentences and putting them into a form that he knew it better than his own rude and blunt way of expressing himself. There was a nobe touch in the way Kuchiki treated language, and to Renji every poem could as well be a signed.
Zenbonzakura was a genius who had caught the attention of audiences nation wide, and could easily make a shitloads of money with his talent by signing a contract to some publisher and coming out from behind the nickname to give interviews and take the attentive in selling his own books. That was exactly what he refused to do, though.
For some unknown reason Zenbonzakura wanted to stay anonymous freelancer, sending his works to smaller or mediocre publishers and literature magazines, such as Soul Society. He delivered his works to publishers and collected the payments with the help of two agents called Urahara Kisuke and Yoruichi Shihouin. The duo had been constantly pestered by media, but they had refused to give out Zenbonzakura's identity or whereabouts.
Renji growled, sending a deadly glare to the back of Red Rebellion, as it could deliver his message to it's author.
I have some unfinished business with you, fucker.
Five years ago, Kuchiki had been one of the most promising lawyers on the field. At the age of twenty eight he had an almost spotless record of cracking the hardest and the most challenging cases there were. He was a man admired by many, especially his young assistant Renji.
Unfortunately, Renji was nothing but air to the object of his adoration. That was to be expected, and Renji held no bitter feelings about the fact. In the end, Byakuya was a big name, handsome, rich and married to a beautiful woman whom he loved more than anything. There wasn't any reason for him to pay any more attention to Renji than it took to order him around in the office. Renji had accepted this as a challenge while he worked hard to proof his worth. Someday he would be as rich and known, and then he would be able to talk to Byakuya face to face.
It all fell apart when Byakuya's wife's younger sister was brought in front of the court. The charges were that she had been smuggling some illegal weaponry to terrorists. Renji remembered that day very well. Rukia hadn't looked scared at all, she had humbly accepted her destiny to be put in jail for good because of the crime she hadn't committed. Renji was sure about it, he knew Rukia. The girl had said herself that she hadn't known about the existence of such a weapon until the terrorists took it from her. How was she in possession of it, she couldn't explain.
Renji had decided to test out his wings and stood by and defended the woman who was like sister to him. He did a good job, effectively digging into the vital questions of the case.
He would have made it if his opponent weren't Kuchiki Byakuya.
In the end, all of the Renji's defences were practically crushed. Due to being a first time crime offender, Rukia got only seven years in jail.
After that day Renji resigned from his job. He didn't want to see that man ever again, much less to be like him. The man had betrayed not only his wife's sister but Renji as well... To think that he had wasted all these years of his life made him angry beyond reason. He ended up working wherever he could, with much less payment than he used to.
After a few months, Byakuya's wife died from serious illness. The man himself retired as well, his promising career in pieces. Some rumors said that he had killed himself, some other that he had gotten a new identity and new start in somewhere else. No one knew for sure.
Renji had tried his best to forget the man. It had been hard for him to believe, that the man whom he thought he knew had turned out to be completely someone else. For many years he had been successfully ignoring most of the thoughts and complicated feelings towards the man he wouldn't ever see again.
That was before the texts. That was before he read Red Rebellion.
The novel was about a young man raised in streets who threw away his life in order to protect what he thought was right. He fought to safe a woman who did nothing wrong, but ended up losing against the corrupted nobles, who desperately hang on their believes of 'justice'. The introduction of the book held a line from near the end of the story: 'Those who know no justice, have mercy in their hearts. Protecting those who have no power, they will be crushed. This is the way of the world.'
Renji couldn't shake of the feeling that those words were directed to him, as an apology. Maybe it was a high time to forgive and forget. During the last five years, he had missed Byakuya's presence in his life. He missed working for him and with him, missed his unwavering sense of power and control when he stepped into the room. After leaving the man and going on with his life, he had not once felt like he belonged where he was.
If he would find him. They could have a new start.
Once again skipping his official work, he returned back to his personal project. He carefully took out the pile of poems, reading them carefully line from line as he had done at least hundred times before. Just give me one lead, a clue. I won't let you get away.