A/N: After some consideration of YJ ANDY's review, I thought I would try and slow down a little, but I feel like this is a bit of a filler, and an explanation for Renji's tattoos and some back story, little by little, we will find out why he is where he is and why he does the things he does. Also, I remembered Hinamori's breakdown in the original bleach, and needed to mirror it somehow D:

I don't own Bleach! :3

I reached the dining hall and was met by concerned faces, and tearful eyes.

"Hinamori" Kira said sadly. My heart began to thump in my chest. What happened now? Was it the new about Aizen?

I ran to Hitsugaya, who I knew she was close to, however, I knew he wouldn't talk to me. There was a slight, sad change in him, but he did not utter a word.

I searched through the crowd for one sane being, to my despair, I realized I was in an asylum. There was only one person who seemed calm among the throng of sadness and insanity Zaraki Kenpachi.

I ran to him, "What's going on? What happened to Hinamori?" I demanded. He looked at me and saw the frustration radiating from me.

"Attempted suicide after the news of Aizen. Shows them. The shrinks need to be a little more sensitive. One person tried to kill themselves, the whole lot go mad!" he said, glee coating his voice. I ignored him and immediately ran to the infirmary. Sitting in a corner was Isane.

"Where's Hinamori?" I asked her

She looked up and smiled sadly, "Don't worry, she'll be fine. I caught her before she took a big enough dose. She just left to the local hospital to get her stomach pumped. She'll be eating charcoal with chocolate milk for a while (1)."

"How could this happen? Aren't the pills meant to be stored away?" I asked angrily, turning my hands into fists. I was infuriated.

Isane looked apologetic and shrugged. I was sure that she was ashamed. I began to head to the door, but before I did I heard her small voice say, "Could you please tell Ukitake that she will be fine after all, he has no need to worry"

I nodded in acknowledgement to the message, though I doubted that she noticed. I walked out quietly, and punched the wall once I was out of the room. Shit, why now?

In the sad walk to Ukitake's office, I encountered Rukia. She looked exhausted, but otherwise not as angry as before. Actually, not angry at all. She caught sight of me and smiled.

"Renji" she said my name sweetly. I walked up to her and touched her cheek gently. Byakuya had not caused any substantial damage, just a slightly rouged complexion that was not matched, by the other pale cheek.

"I have to go pass on a message to Ukitake. Wanna come?" I asked leading as she automatically followed me with a shrug. In silence we walked, until Ukitake's office. We reached the door and knocked lightly. There was no response. We tried again.

"He's not in there" Rukia said, and began turning away. But I knew better. I opened the door and lying on the floor was Ukitake, his mouth dripping with blood and hands covered in it too. Rukia gasped, as did I. I called out for help. Rukia ran to the infirmary.

How can things be going so wrong, all at the same time? Shit!

Byakuya sat silently in his office, trying to focus on the task of writing a weekly report on patient's progress. It was tedious and nerve wrecking, since most patients made no improvements in such a short time. However, writing that there were no improvements was unacceptable to Kuchiki. This monotonous, odious task went on for ten more minutes before he heard the shouts and yells of voices he was now familiar with. One was his sister and the other…

"Renji" he whispered to himself, and got up in one swift movement. He ran to the infirmary, only to find Isane and Unohana over Ukitake, who seemed unconscious.

"Nii-sama" Rukia called out, and Kuchiki wrapped his arms around his trembling younger sibling. Across from him was stoic, distant Renji, staring aimlessly at the unconscious body of Dr. Ukitake.

I did not sleep that night. Nor any other night. I spent part of it reading, until Ikkaku shouted for me to put my "fucking damn lights off". I then sat in the dark thinking. I thought deeply of love, and depression, and death, and coffee, and tattoos…

In the early hours of that morning, I picked up a traditional Japanese ink set and with it drew a tribal tattoo design I envisioned that night. Dark, slick, thick lines composed my tattoo. Representing strength I knew I did not have. I stared at the strong lines, glad that I had paid attention to my mother when she was writing. I was a master of the ink set.

I considered for the moment, how I could get it, and then I remembered, 69, I smiled inwardly.

I approached Hisagi that day, with the proposal.

"I heard you know a bit about tattoo making" I said smoothly. He looked at me and said, "Yeah, I know a little"

"Can you do simple designs?" I asked, handing him the drawing of what I desired.

"Yeah, I know how to do them, but Renji, just know, an asylum does not have the resources to tattoo anyone" he said, and sipped his tea.

"Well, I have money you can use to buy some" I said, biting my lip. I had hoped to save that money, but now, my desire for the tattoo was stronger than my desire to escape.

"How much do you need?" I asked,

"How much do you have?"

I thought back and blurted, "$120"

"Not enough" he said curtly, and smiled sadly, "Sorry man, but what you want looks big, and it needs cash. See you around yeah? Remember, I would willingly do it" and with that, I walked away in frustration, cursing myself for being such an idiot.

"Renji, it's time for our appointment" Byakuya said coldly behind me. I turned to face him and nodded, before we began walking to the lake.

We began going to the lake because I preferred talking there, in a more natural environment. Byakuya preferred it because it meant he was closer to his late wife's altar.

We sat on the damp grass, and talked of the strange turn of events in the asylum.

"Everything seems to be going wrong now" I sighed, leaning back. I looked up at the dank, grey sky and wished that the sun would shine sometime soon. Byakuya stared at the water, and shook his head, "There is no explanation for it. Must be fate"

"You believe in that shit?" I asked laughingly. He nodded and said, "Hisana did"

Feeling disrespectful, I decided to change the subject, "I want to get tattoos done, but don't have the money. Hisagi said he would do it only if I provided the money for equipment" I said quickly. I wasn't sure how he would take it.

"Why do you want tattoos?" he asked quietly.

"Because I want something new, I want to feel different, because I just feel like that lost person who tried to give up on life again and I want to be stronger" I admitted. Until then, I didn't know why I wanted them.

Byakuya nodded, and we began talking about hobbies. We talked about art, haiku, food, tea, anything really. Until our one hour was done. We bid each other farewell, and went our separate ways.

I was sitting in my room, alone, as Ikkaku was away; God knows where doing God knows what. Hitsugaya was with Hinamori at the hospital, trying to sooth her in his own mute way I was sure. She didn't mind, his company was enough.

There was a sudden knock on the door that made jump.

"Come in" I said, closing my book. Hisagi's head could be seen around the corner and in he came with a paper bag.

"What's that?" I asked, as he took out a tattoo gun with several vials of black ink. I blinked in shock and looked up at him, "What's this?"

"Let's just say someone contributed to your cause" and he smiled, "would you like to get started"

I nodded eagerly and began to arrange myself. I had mentally prepared myself for this and was fully ready. It felt like some sort of initiation.

I lied down on my bed, fully consuming the pain of the needle first going into my skin.

The tattoo was stark against my pale white skin. They graced my forehead, and extended to my neck, over my shoulders and down my torso and back. I admired them in the mirror, and touched them gently with my fingers. I had to thank Byakuya.

It was a no surprise that it was him, and yet extremely shocking that it was. Confusing? I had not been surprised, seeing as Byakuya was the only person I had told. And yet, I had never expected such a thing from Byakuya; but I did not question it, I was just glad it happened.

I met him in his office that day, seeing as it was raining. I walked in, and saw him at his desk. He looked up blankly, and then focused on the lines across my forehead.

"You got them done so soon" he said flatly, standing up and walking towards me. I stood in place and smiled, "I just want to say tha-"

"First let me see the tattoos before you thank me" he said, with a slight smirk pulling at his lips. I nodded and began pulling off my jacket, then my shirt. I stood beneath his gaze, awkwardly watching his reaction. There was something… sensual, about being gazed upon by a man like Byakuya.

He looked at me, with an air of slight hunger. I shivered a little. Why did that feel so good? I asked, taken aback by the sensation. His eyes moved from my shoulder, to my chest, to my stomach. All light, deliberate movements. I was sure he did not mean it in a sexual way, and yet that is how my body took it. He just wanted to inspect the design, and yet I wanted him to inspect a lot more.

With that thought, he seemed to look away and nodded, "interesting. It's original so I approve" and sat back at his desk. I nodded and pulled my clothes back on, taking a seat on the chaise longue. He turned back to his paper work, and then to me again, "I want to try an exercise"

"Is it one of those psychiatric evaluation ones?" I asked skeptically. He gave a slight smirk and said, "Yes, but it's not as lame as you make it seem"

"If you say so, Dr. Kuchiki" I said, mockingly. He looked at me over his shoulder, before he said, "let us begin. The aim is to see how your brain works"

"Surprising"

"And I will say a word and I want you to say the first thing that comes to mind" he finished, ignoring me, "First word; home?"

"Slum"

"Mother?"

"Dead"

"Father?"

"Drunk"

"Interesting… why those words? From the impression you gave me, your parents seem like very nice people" he said, seemingly confused. He didn't know…

"My parents are fucked up; my foster parents are good people" I said, feeling dread come over me. This is the part of therapy I was dreading.

"You're an orphan" he concluded, seemingly dumbfounded. I nodded and turned slightly away from him. He too had been disowned by his family, but at least he had grown up in a noble environment before being abandoned. I was a slum-rat, and that made me miserable. But why would I even care what he thought about me?

"What age did you go to the orphanage?"

"Six, and don't bother asking how it was, because I honestly don't remember"

He must have seen how serious I was, for he did not push the matter.

"At what age were you adopted?" he asked

"Thirteen" I said, remembering the day I was adopted. I was a good child, too scared that I would be left by these people who had saved me. Saved me from what? I always asked myself. I never remembered what it was I needed to be saved from; I just had a burning desire to be rescued.

"Hmm… there is a way we can retrieve your memories of the orphanage, if you want" he said, "It would help with your recovery if we dealt with your suppressed memories, seeing as they are the cause of the disorder"

I looked at him, and grimaced, "No."

"It would help, but I will not force it on you. It's just… I believe you want to leave this place, and can't do that until you get rid of those emotions"

"Why don't you simply write a letter to Dr. Yamamoto, telling him I'm doing great and showing real improvement, while you do nothing" I snapped back, angry. Why did he care? Why was he helping me? Why so much effort? It's not like they paid him that much anyway…

"Because, I became a psychiatrist to actually help people, not to sit on my lazy ass, diagnose and send you off with medication that will not help, and wait for them to finally give you a lobotomy because that would be their last resort" he said, narrowing his eyes.

I thought of my meds. They were administered twice a day, to deal with depression, and though I did not believe I suffered from it, I still took the meds, because that was what was expected of me. I never thought they worked, and I never thought I needed them to; they were just to appease those around me.

"Do you want to get out of here, fully recovered, or not? You may as well leave with a good report, but you will end up here again, I assure you" Byakuya said. He looked at his watch and said, "Our hour is over, we will talk tomorrow"

I stood up and walked to the door, leaving with thoughts of home, freedom and the price I would have to pay for both.

I had been at the asylum for 5 months before my foster parents came and visited. They were nice people. Traditional in every sense, and though extremely rich and complete, they adopted a rat like me. I always asked them why, and my foster mum said, "It's because we could see how special you are. When we first saw you, it was like looking upon a pearl in an oyster. It is too beautiful to pass by without wanting it as your own."

During the 5 months however, I was sure all that had changed. They probably wished they had passed up the chance to own me, like Hino did in The Pearl by John Steinbeck (2). However, when they saw me, they came and embraced me deeply.

"My baby" mum breathed, kissing the top of my fiery red crown of hair. My dad hugged us both, before pulling away and saying, "Well, that's different"

Mum pulled away too and looked horrified. The tattoos, I almost forgot…

"They are to mark the renewal of your son, mum and dad, they represent my newfound strength within myself" I said quickly. Their looks softened and they inspected them gently.

"They frame your face well, but you could look good with a rug," my mum joked softly.

We sat together in the main hall, since that was the meeting area; away from the other patients.

"You know, you aren't actually crazy. I don't understand why they insisted you come here," my dad wondered out loud, looking around the hall.

I nodded, feeling my stomach drop.

"They don't understand, and don't care. It's okay, it's better to get full time support, you know? It's not so much an asylum but a recovery home" I offered. That did not ease them, but knowing that I was still in high spirits despite my situation, gave their eyes a glimmer of hope.

"As long as you are happy and doing all you can to be okay again, we support you" my mum said, taking my face into her hands and kissing my forehead.

Yeah, doing all I can… I sigh.

Byakuya was strolling by the lake, on his way to Hisana's altar. He had built a small canopy for it, so that the rain would not soil it. It made him happy to have something remaining of his late-wife, even here at the asylum. He had been living in one of the residential homes, a small apartment that was nothing like his mansion. He still remembered the large ornate rooms, the study that he where he spent his time drinking tea and writing haiku.

He was filled with longing at the thought, but was also feeling slightly distraught. He kept thinking back to Renji's tattoos. Though Renji had been grateful, and had not questioned Byakuya's motives, Byakuya wondered why he had helped the youth. Why did he help him?

There was a certain je ne Sais quoi about Renji was Byakuya was drawn to. He wanted to befriend him, make him feel better, help him get out. Maybe in releasing Renji from this hell, he would find freedom and peace within himself.

Upon reaching Hisana's altar, all thoughts of Renji were dispelled and Byakuya returned to thoughts of home and the time he had spent with his late wife.

1: it is a treatment used to absorb the toxins after someone had overdosed, it's disgusting! My best friend needed to do this after over dosing D:

2: an amazing novella; the pearl makes wishes come true, but also curse those who possess it.

sorry if it was boring please review (and be nice, pour favor? :)