Chapter 6: Choices
Captain Unohana sat carefully crafting the perfect floral arrangement. It was breathtaking in its simplicity. It inspired a feeling of tranquility. In a word, it was elegant.
Hisana ignored it. Its beauty could not reach her. Her thoughts and hands were too busy. Her fingers went cold as they worked away at her own arrangement, becoming numb and stiff from frustration.
Hisana hated ikebana.
She admired her captain's skill in the art, but she loathed making her own arrangements. Hisana had the artistic ability of a rabid squirrel. Describing her works as, 'ugly,' would have been faint praise.
"Vice Captain," Unohana said gently observing her subordinate's latest efforts.
Hisana, however, missed her captain's soft words. Her thoughts sounded so loudly in her head that she did not acknowledge Unohana until the good captain raised her voice.
"Hisana!" Unohana said sternly. The captain's placid demeanor melted until she was staring in horror at the mangled mess Hisana had fashioned. "The plants are living. They deserve tenderness and respect."
Hisana grimaced. Well, her plants weren't living now. She had snapped several crucial roots in her haste.
"Your thoughts, Vice Captain, are loud today," Unohana observed, folding her hands in her lap.
Hisana nodded. "I will go."
"You do not have to dismiss yourself," Unohana said, softening her voice and look.
Hisana shook her head. "No. I will offer my power."
Unohana cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"The vambrace chose me. I will go."
Unohana stared at her. Concern darkened her eyes and marked her face. A pause pregnant with tense reflection passed over them. "You know what this decision entails," Unohana stated at last.
Hisana lifted her head. It took all her strength to lock eyes with her captain. She did not flinch at her captain's piercing look. Unohana's brow bent, and her lips sloped into a contemplative frown. It was not a look of disapproval, however. "Yes, Captain, I am prepared to make that sacrifice."
"I do not require it of you."
Hisana frowned. "I know. I refuse to require my subordinates to go in my stead."
Unohana smiled faintly. "Not all of the others are your subordinates."
Hisana's eyes widened, and her complexion blanched. Of course! her thoughts screamed. The vambrace would choose Unohana as well. "My apologies," Hisana said, bowing toward her captain. "In that case, I must go."
Unohana shook her head, but she did not speak a word.
"In this world, some lives are worth more than others. Some lives can be spared. Your life, my Captain, cannot. Mine can. Let me go."
"Vice Captain," Unohana said warningly, tilting her head to the side. She had that look—the type of mothering look that she wore when her subordinates said or did something paralyzing stupid. It was not rancor. No. It was questioning worriment.
"It is my design, Captain. The relic responds to me. Let me go," Hisana said pleadingly.
Unohana lifted her head. She appeared serene on the outside, but the telltale signs of anxiety lay just beneath the surface in her gaze. "Are you certain, Vice Captain?"
Hisana nodded. "Yes. I will have it no other way."
"I will inform the Captain-Commander," Unohana said solemnly.
Hisana sat up, stone-faced. "Thank you, Captain."
. . . .
Kaien stood dressed in his funeral best. It had taken some time to get his mind around the fact that Sōjun Kuchiki was gone. Sōjun had seemingly always been, at least in Kaien's life. The noble was a constant, and, while Kaien had many reservations toward Byakuya, he found Sōjun perfectly agreeable. A model citizen, Shinigami, and noble.
He tucked an envelope containing a tribute for the Kuchiki family in a pocket, and he signed a few papers before pulling away from his desk. "Are you ready?" Ukitake called into the room.
"Yes, Captain," Kaien said, standing. Swiftly, he crossed the floor and trailed behind Ukitake. He paused, however, a few feet from one of the offices. Helplessly, he watched his captain disappear down a corridor. "Are you ready?" he called into the room.
"Apologies!" his wife called. She, too, had a few last-minute matters to attend to before leaving. She greeted him at the door, and, nervously, she fussed with the pins in her hair.
"You look appropriately soulful," he said drolly, watching her fingers' quick nimble movements.
She frowned up at him as she secured the last pin. "I am. Lord Sōjun was a good man," she said, stepping across the threshold and into the corridor. "His departure is a great loss."
Kaien quickened his stride. "It is." Silence fell between them as they hurriedly met Captain Ukitake at the gate. A light drizzle of rain pelted them at varying intervals.
Catching a raindrop in the palm of his hand, Kaien glanced up. "How appropriate," he groused to himself.
When the two reached Captain Ukitake, the good captain stood with his back turned toward them. His head bent down, and, when he turned to greet them, the source of his attention was apparent. A hell butterfly flew away, catching a stray wind. Ukitake watched the butterfly for a few moments. His expression was inscrutable.
"Is all well, Captain?" Kaien asked, approaching.
Ukitake was rarely so guarded. He was obviously processing whatever news he had just received, and, for a harrowing moment, Kaien considered whether there had been another death. "Captain?" he asked more urgently.
"The key has chosen," Ukitake said, turning to acknowledge his subordinates.
Kaien stared at Ukitake, unflinchingly. His muscles became rigid, and his heart stopped cold. Time itself felt slower as he waited, praying that the sacrifice was not Captain Unohana. Then, praying again that the sacrifice was not a soul he knew well.
"Vice Captain Hisana."
Miyako gasped at the news. "Vice Captain?" she echoed, unable to speak the name. Searchingly, she turned to her husband. She looked to Kaien to make sense of the news.
Kaien saw his wife's distress, and he swiftly masked his own feelings on the matter. His gaze trailed to the side, and he inhaled and exhaled a few long breaths. Anger simmered in him. Any loss was wasteful, but a loss of a Vice Captain cut him deeply. For the most part, the Vice Captains were tightly knitted group, meeting regularly and participating in various activities and clubs. "What next?" he asked.
Ukitake grimaced. "A small party will be organized to accompany her." Wordless, Ukitake turned to the gate.
Silence blanketed the threesome as they traveled toward the Kuchiki estate.
Miyako turned to Kaien and leaned close. "Do you think the Vice Captain will come?" she whispered as they neared the manor.
Kaien stared ahead. He was unsure. He had not seen Hisana since the last Captain's meeting, but he had a sinking feeling that duty would force her to make an appearance. She would have to escort her Captain. She also had a personal attachment to Sōjun, having been his treating physician for many long years. "Yes," he said softly.
It was unlikely that many knew of her decision, anyway. The only souls that knew for sure were the captains. Possibly some vice captains were aware. Others would not know which was good for her sake.
Kaien, however, was wrong. If there was one thing about Soul Society that never ceased to amuse and horrify him, it was how word spread. "Don't," Kaien commanded Miyako. His words, however, came too late. Miyako offered Hisana a sad miserable glance from across the courtyard.
"What?" she asked, glancing up at her husband.
Kaien's lips flat-lined. His wife did it out of sympathy and camaraderie so he could not be too firm. But, Kaien was certain the last thing Hisana wanted was to divert attention away from the Kuchiki family at that moment. It was a case of bad timing.
Carefully, Kaien watched Hisana's reaction to Miyako's silent condolence. Hisana's eyes widened slightly, and her lips parted. Immediately, she glanced up at Kaien before turning her attention to her captain. She said something to Unohana. What, exactly, Kaien did not know. Unohana nodded politely, and the two moved deeper into the throng of souls.
. . . .
Byakuya stood quietly listening to one of his cousins as she offered her deepest sympathies when his aunt drew to his side. He glimpsed her in his peripheral vision, and he would have ignored her presence if his cousin had not suddenly started. "My many condolences," she said softly to Byakuya before bowing deeply. She backed away slowly before taking her leave.
"Yes?" he murmured, refusing to acknowledge his aunt by turning to her.
"It would be my pleasure to introduce you to Lady Nanako," she said, bowing low and signaling to the lovely noblewoman standing to the side.
It took every fiber of his being not to turn on his heel and leave.
"Lord Kuchiki," the young woman said diffidently, and she bowed. "Forgive my intrusion. Allow me to give my deepest sympathies. Your father was a great example of a noble. He will never be replaced." Her voice was thin and breathy. A good wind could have obscured it completely.
He stood watching her. She was tall and slender. Her hair was dark black, and she was pretty enough. He turned his gaze to the side when he caught a glimpse of Unohana. Silently, he searched for the Fourth's Vice Captain.
Likely aware of her nephew's intentions, his aunt brought his attention back with a sharp sigh. "Lord Kuchiki," her voice bordered on chastising.
He turned to Lady Nanako and managed a slight bow. "I am grateful for your kind sentiments," he said evenly, glancing back at Unohana.
The Fourth's Captain caught his look, and she offered him a warm smile. "Lord Kuchiki," she said, taking a few steps in his direction. "I know my sympathies cannot ease your pain, but your father will be greatly missed." She bowed politely, and, when she moved, she revealed her Vice Captain. Hisana stood an arm's length from her captain, clenching Unohana's Zanpakutō in both hands. She bowed politely. "My condolences," she said softly.
Unohana glanced past Byakuya, and she bowed politely before turning her attention to Byakuya's aunt. "Lady Kuchiki," she said, moving toward the noble.
Hisana watched, but remained with Byakuya. She glanced up at him shyly. "I am so sorry," she murmured.
Byakuya was just about to speak when an unfamiliar Shinigami passed. When she did, she caught Hisana's eye, and she bowed her head. Immediately, she gave another sorrowful look to Byakuya. This happened several times. It was perplexing. His gaze trailed back to Hisana. The question was written on his face, but his tongue could not find the words.
"Lord Kuchiki," Hisana murmured, bowing.
For a moment, Byakuya was about to respond to Hisana, thinking she had acknowledged him. He was wrong, and he realized he was wrong when he heard his name ring in his ears.
"Byakuya." The voice was strong and deep.
He turned to his grandfather, and he bowed. "Yes," he said softly. When he glanced up, he saw his grandfather regard Hisana with an impenetrable stare. Ginrei knew something. But, what? At first, Byakuya thought he caught a look of disapproval in his grandfather's eye, but that wasn't right. Ginrei would not regard Hisana with such a long stare if that were the case. He would not have acknowledged her at all.
Byakuya straightened, puzzled. What were these strange looks? Had something gone awry? Something involving Hisana?
Hisana bowed again. "My deepest sympathies for your loss," she said gently.
"Come, Byakuya, it is time." Ginrei stated firmly.
. . . .
The funeral was short, Hisana noted. Or, perhaps, her thoughts were so scattered, so violent, time just spilled forth for her. She could hardly remember anything that happened before or after Miyako's knowing look. She had tried so hard to forget her choice, but, at the funeral, all she could think about was her choice. So many things she wanted, no needed, to accomplish were foreclosed.
She felt horrible, and, in her misery, she traveled with her captain in silence. Unquestioning silence led her back to the Fourth and into Unohana's office.
"My recommendations—" Unohana began once Hisana had taken to a sitting mat.
Hisana shook her head. "I must make this choice on my own," she said thoughtfully. There was no point in talking about her decision. She had to come to terms with it. It was the most prudent course of action, after all.
Unohana lowered her gaze. A small motherly smile parted her lips. "Of course, Vice Captain. And, who have you decided upon?"
Hisana bowed her head respectfully. "I have not yet decided."
Unohana nodded. "You have three days before the next Captains meeting. You may select any three Shinigami among the 13 Divisions. The Captain-Commander will be expecting your request for provisions then."
Hisana glanced down. "Thank you, Captain."
"Of course, Hisana."
The two took a silent tea before Unohana had to leave to attend to some pressing matters. Before leaving, Unohana gave Hisana the next three days off to rest and prepare. Hisana had taken this as permission to take a needlessly long stroll. A stroll that she soon regretted when she found herself assailed by sad worrisome looks.
Hisana had been floored. She had assumed the transmission would have been delayed until after the funeral. Such would have been proper. But, no, the Second had pulled the trigger too soon.
Miyako had not been the only one to give her silent look of comfort. A surprising number of Shinigami had given her dark looks or gentle squeezes to the shoulder, as if words could not express their sadness. Halfway through the service, the skies had opened. Sheets of rain came down. For a moment, Hisana wondered if the firmament knew.
It was still misting outside.
Hisana ducked into a small smoky bar. She was not a fan of small smoky bars, but it provided her solace from the looks and rain. Running her hands down her uniform, she rubbed out a few wrinkles and glanced up. Her presence went mostly unnoticed.
The bar wench gave her a small half-smile in acknowledgment. "Bar or table?" she asked, grabbing a menu.
"Table," Hisana said, taking a small pad and pen from a hidden compartment in her uniform. Seated, she placed the pad down on the table, and she began numbering the sheet—one to thirteen.
'What have I done?' The question crept to mind with alarming frequency. At least once every hour, she asked herself the question. She shoved it away from her mind, most of the time. Now, however, she considered it. She was going to be sacrificed to end a death machine. The soldiers that she selected would have to escort her to said death machine, which the rebel dissidents guarded with their lives. The Shinigami that she selected would surely be going to their deaths as well.
'No they won't,' she reassured herself. 'They will not die. Not if the group is small. Undetectable.'
She recalled the past mission to secure the King's Fire. For some reason, the memory felt blurry, distant. The few days that elapsed in the interim felt like an eternity. Seemingly eons past, two large squads from the Third and Sixth marched toward their doom. They were no match for the rebels, some of whom had been comrades with their own Zanpakutō. Some of the dissidents were from the peasantry but were worthy adversaries on their own.
Yet, the squads would have succeeded against the rebels had they not obtained the relic. The squads outnumbered the rebels, and all of the Shinigami were proficient soldiers. There would have been losses, Hisana was sure. But a Vice Captain and Captain would not have been felled.
The squads were too massive. They attracted too much attention. The rebels knew they were coming from leagues away. It had been by design. No one brings an army to a stealth mission. A report detailing the mission cited hostile conditions as a cause for its failure. Some districts supported the rebels' cause, and some of the peasants sent word ahead of time, allowing the rebels to prepare a preemptive strike. The preemptive strike caused most of the damage and destruction.
Hisana frowned as she recounted the report in her head. The nobility that ran Soul Society and led many of the divisions were benighted when it came to the peasantry. They knew nothing of the districts and life in the slums. They knew not of the crushing poverty, the famine, the blight, or the crime. They knew nothing of the terrain or even the demarcations among the districts themselves. It was all abstract theory to them. She knew because she had studied at the Academy alongside many nobles. Her mind fired off the little nuggets of information taught to the nobles about the peasantry: 'Past the 50th District, there is poverty. Beyond the 59th, the peasants cannot afford shoes. The peasants may be sacrificed to restore balance, but, first, permission must be granted.'
She paused at the last thought. Her mind scrutinized the words. 'How appropriate,' she mused bitterly. Immediately, she shook her head, casting the thought away, and stared down at her pad of paper. Only numbers stared back at her. She had not even tried to think of the names.
It seemed cruel to write down the possibilities. A chill ran up and down her spine at the very thought. She pressed her lips together, and sighed.
"Drinks," the bar wench announced, carrying a platter with a white ceramic container full of hot sake.
Hisana nearly jumped out of her own skin at the suddenness of the woman's presence. Wide-eyed and trying her hardest to regulate her heartbeat, she watched the waitress set the sake and cup on the table.
"Complements," the woman said, winking at Hisana. She jerked her chin in the direction of several male Shinigami, who were watching her sheepishly.
Hisana went red in the face, but she raised her cup in their direction. They appeared somewhat relieved and reciprocated her action. She took a sip and averted her gaze back down at the white pad of paper.
Hours, minutes, days passed. Hisana was not sure which. A few drinks had provided her with enough courage to write the names of all the Shinigami that she knew from each division. She was going through the process of crossing off names and had worked her way down to the Third Division when a voice roused her from her deep, intoxicated contemplation.
"So here you are!" The voice was rich but bright. Clearly masculine, but genial.
She glanced up to see Kaien staring down at her. For a moment, she turned to see if there was someone standing behind her. Nope. He was just looking at her.
Hisana blinked, hoping that her mind had given out on her. A combination of exhaustion and spirits would do that, or so numerous male Shinigami had told her when they were carted into the Fourth to seek treatment for their drunken "accidents." "Vice Captain Shiba?" she asked.
"Are you okay?" he asked, sitting down beside her.
Blink. Blink. Blink. He was still there. Still staring down at her. Even seated, he loomed over her petite figure.
"Yeah," she said at length.
She cringed at the sound of her voice. She clearly sounded like she was over-compensating. Mostly because she was over-compensating.
Kaien turned his attention to her newest flask of sake. He picked it up and poured her another cup. 'Bad idea,' she noted to herself. She was certain that if she drank another ounce, she would expire.
He glanced up at the bar wench, who acknowledged him with a knowing bow of the head. Hisana caught her reaction, and she wondered if Kaien was a regular. Likely. Many of the Shinigami came to this establishment.
Within several seconds, the waitress returned with a new flask and a white ceramic cup for Kaien. "Vice Captain Shiba," she cooed excitedly. "Would you like anything else?"
Hisana's gaze flitted up to the woman drowsily. She wondered if the woman was a fan. Probably. Kaien was famous, wealthy, skilled, and handsome.
Hisana glanced down at her pad and, realizing how close Kaien was, she quickly flipped it to a blank page so he would not discern what she was doing. So he would not see his name on the list. She hadn't gotten to the Thirteenth. She was going to cross through his name anyway. His name and his wife's name. No need to rouse unnecessary suspicion or worry.
Her sudden movement caught his attention, and she could feel the heat of his stare on her. She was about to say something—anything that would divert his interest. She was too late.
"What's that?" he asked, eying the pad.
Hisana shook her head and waved her hands at the list.
"She has been laboring over that list for hours!" the waitress said, sweetly.
Hisana blanched. Her eyes went wide, and she shot the bar wench a heated glare. "Thank you," she growled.
The waitress smiled nervously before removing the empty flask and scurrying away.
"A list, eh?" Kaien said, watching her knowingly. "What kind of list?"
Hisana tucked her chin toward her neck, and her features hardened. "A list of provisions."
He smiled at her, shaking his head. "What kind of provisions?"
Her gaze fell to the floor.
"I know," he said softly.
Her eyes snapped up to his face. Searchingly, she stared into his eyes. What, exactly, did he know?
"Captain Ukitake informed our division of your decision," he said, pouring himself a cup of sake.
"Great," she said under her breath. She had really hoped to keep it a private affair. She assumed the Captains and Vice Captains would be informed. She had no idea that everyone in the Gotei 13 would know. But, there she was. Flush with free sake and sympathy for miles.
"Who are the other two?" he asked. A boyish half-grin pulling a side of his mouth up.
"Other two what?" she asked. Her brow furrowed, and her lips pursed together.
"Companions. You get three. So who are the other two?"
She stared at him confused before realization hit her. She smiled wide at his bravado. "Shouldn't you be asking me who are the three?"
He gave her a perceptive sidelong glance and shook his head confidently. "Nah," he said as if he was the most obvious choice. Kaien Shiba was an obvious choice, Hisana mused. If his wife had not been a friend, she would have selected him as a companion. It was hard, however, to choose a friend's husband for certain doom.
"Vice Captain, your eagerness is endearing, but you have a lovely wife."
"I am rather fond of her," he teased.
"I could not do that to her," Hisana said softly.
"She would," he said sardonically.
Hisana nearly choked on her sake.
"So, who are the other guys?"
She cocked her head to the side and smiled. "You are sincerely incorrigible."
"It is part of the charm," he said drily.
Her smile widened and she shook her head. "I don't know." Her smile fell, and an apprehensive glint caught in her eyes.
Without asking or warning, Kaien flipped back her small pad and began going through her list. "Looks like a tough decision. Glad I don't have to make it," he said, carelessly circling his own name. "But you only have two more choices, now. Thank me later, at the party they throw for us after we deactivate the doomsday device."
Hisana lowered her head. "I don't think that is how it works."
He dropped the pad to the table. "But it will. I will see to it."
Drunkenly, she gazed up into his clear blue eyes. For a flicker, his confidence convinced her. Maybe there was a workaround. Hope swelled in her chest for that brief second only to be quashed by stark rationality.
"Come," he said, helping her up, "looks like you need a designated walker."
. . . .
Byakuya sat quietly watching his aunt as she fussed with fabric swatches and other things. "Is my presence necessary?" The unspoken part of his observation was "because you appear to be doing just fine without me."
"Of course!" she snapped, glaring at him. "Lady Nanako will appreciate this if you put some effort into it."
His gaze wandered to the window. The leaves stood out brightly against the gloomy gray storm clouds. The rain had ceased, but the clouds hovered threateningly overhead. It had rained for three days straight. Three horrible days. The pond was beginning to inch closer to the estate, he noted, lowering his gaze to the diverted stream. He was sure the koi were having a field day. So much space to roam and new food sources.
Suddenly, he wished he were a koi. To swim freely, unhindered by a disapproving glare. "Yes," he sighed, turning back to his aunt.
"Red or violet?" she held up the fabric samples as if they meant something to him.
He stared blankly at her.
"Red or violet?" she repeated. Her voice had an edge to it, he noted. She was growing impatient at about the same pace he was growing restless.
He frowned. "Violet," he said, glancing back to the window.
"Undying love," she murmured, "how appropriate." She discarded the red swatches and began searching the violet ones for an appropriate pattern. "Violet and blue?"
Byakuya was staring so deeply into the gray that he did not hear his aunt's question. His thoughts purged from all the stress. Finding a source of respite, his gaze lingered on the sky for a few long moments.
"Byakuya!" she growled, frustrated with her nephew's sudden listlessness.
His gaze slowly drifted to her.
Reading his bored look, she shook her head. "You will be married in a few weeks' time. You really ought to be paying closer attention."
He bristled at the timeline.
Her lips sloped into a frown. "I couldn't make spring happen," she said, wistfully. "Your grandfather insists on an autumn wedding."
Byakuya shifted. His expression smoothed into a look of apathy. He chained his feelings and locked them away to rot, and he returned to staring out the window. His thoughts drew to the Vice Captain of the Fourth. He had tried to tame his interest in her. He tried to dull it, numb it. But the more he tried to stuff it down, the more it bobbled back up to the surface like a stubborn buoy.
He hadn't seen her in days. Not since the funeral. Dressed in her uniform, dutifully holding her captain's Zanpakutō. She had been absent from his life since that day, and he wondered if he would ever see her again. His family would likely relieve her of her duties to them now that his father was dead.
Instinctively, he turned his gaze, piercing and harsh, to his aunt.
"Your tea has been cancelled," she noted matter-of-factly, as if she could read his thoughts. Sometimes she could be so astute. She could see through him as if his thoughts were transparent.
"With the Vice Captain of the Fourth?" he asked.
His aunt started at his question. No, she had not read his thoughts. There was another tea. One he had simply forgotten about.
"I suppose you will not be seeing much more of her," she said, narrowing her gaze.
His brow furrowed and his jaws clenched. "I could employ her," he murmured defiantly.
His aunt's lips curled into a devious smile. "You could," she began in a melodic voice, "but it wouldn't matter since she will be dead soon."
Byakuya's eyes widened. His blood ran cold, and his heart fluttered. "What?" he demanded to know more than questioned.
His aunt's smile faded into a sour smirk, and she began examining the quality of the patterns again. "She is the sacrifice, Byakuya. In a few weeks, she will be mourned and her ashes buried."
He stared out in shock. His brain stopped working. It felt like he was short-circuiting. His neurons sparked under his skin, and a fuzzy white noise sounded in his ears. Hisana was the sacrifice? It didn't make sense. She was a Vice Captain, and a powerful healer. To sacrifice her would be such a waste.
"You look surprised," his aunt's voice cut through his dense mental fog. She shot him a pityingly glance. "She will make her request for provisions in a few days, and she will venture out into the hinterland. I sincerely hope that the three Shinigami she selects make it back alive."
He blinked. "Three Shinigami?" he asked.
"Yes, she is allowed to select any three Shinigami from the Gotei 13 to accompany her."
"Has she chosen?" he asked.
"I don't know. The announcement has not been made if she has." She held her gaze a few seconds too long. He could feel her eyes burning into his cheek.
"Has she canceled tea today?" he asked eagerly.
"No. A likely oversight. I would not hold my hopes too high that she will come. She has preparations to make."
Byakuya stood up. His robes fell around him, silk rustling against silk. He turned to the door, and he placed his hand against the wood.
"I will permit you to take tea with her if you will finish this," his aunt said coolly.
He turned to her.
"I have ordered the guards to send her away. I will take back that order if you sit down and help me select the most heartfelt kimono for Lady Nanako."
Byakuya obliged her, and she nimbly summoned a servant. "I believe there has been some confusion with regard to Lord Kuchiki's schedule. If the Vice Captain of the Fourth makes an appearance, please allow her entrance, and be sure to fetch the young master," she said in the most saccharine of voices.
"Yes, milady," he said, bowing deeply.
Byakuya waited for hours, half-heartedly going through the painstaking details of women's fashion. It was awful, and, briefly, he wondered if his father had to endure such monotony for his mother's sake.
Seeing her nephew's disdain, his aunt pursed her lips together. "If this were the Vice Captain," she said, the words strangling in her throat, "what would you select?" It was a hard pill to swallow, but she did so out of a fondness of her nephew. He had received enough bad news, and indulging his clear infatuation seemed perfectly harmless since the source of his interest would be dead in a few days.
He stared at her. "I would start over," he said evenly.
He could tell that his aunt wanted to strangle him.
A well-timed knock, however, silenced his aunt's tirade. "Lord Kuchiki, your guest arrives."
Byakuya swiftly took to his feet and with a small bow he left his aunt to her strange devices. Closing the door behind him, he turned to his body servant. "She waits in your study, milord," the servant said politely.
Byakuya nodded and traversed the halls toward his study. His heart pounded in his chest the closer he got, and, finally arriving, he peeled back the door.
She sat in a light pink kimono with a purple haori pulled over her shoulders. She greeted him with a gentle but contemplative look. "Lord Kuchiki," she said, bowing gracefully.
He acknowledged her with a furtive glance before assuming seiza on a sitting mat across from her. Before she had the chance to say another word, he unfastened his Zanpakutō and placed it horizontally in front of him. "I pledge my sword to you," he said bowing before Senbonzakura.
Hisana sat horrified. Her skin bled its color, and her lips parted. With wide imploring eyes, she shook her head. "Lord Kuchiki," she began, but he interrupted her.
"I pledge my heart, my sword, and my skills for your protection."
"Please," she said, beseechingly. She reached out as if she could stop him with a wave of her hand, "I cannot."
"I will give you everything that is mine to give."
Her breath hitched. Her throat tensed. The muscles strained under her pale skin as she struggled to catch her breath. But, she caught the words rising up. His humility was too complete, too kind. It touched her.
Gracefully, she neared him. Her fingers caught in his tresses. Wordlessly, she bowed her head down, catching his gaze. His eyes were dark and serious and sad.
Her fingers gently stroked the side of his face, guiding his head up.
He straightened, keeping his eyes locked on hers. He wanted to be by her side. The desire was not rational. It wasn't particularly pragmatic. But, he wanted it. He wanted to be with her until the end. Lost in her gaze, in her delicate melancholia, he refused to be refused. He wanted her.
"Lord Kuchiki," she began, softly. She tilted her head to the side, and deepened her gaze. The words were there. He could sense them. But she pressed her lips together, stifling them.
He could still feel her hand against his shoulder. She felt warm. She felt alive. He could feel her reiatsu, gentle but licking against his. He shut his eyes for a moment, feeling her against him. Breathing in her perfume, he sank into her. Reflexively, his mouth caught hers.
It was a sweet release.
The locks all broke and he felt the bliss of freedom for a few long moments. Timidly, at first, his lips pressed against hers, but, feeling her fingers catch in his robes, he deepened the kiss. Her mouth tasted of fragrant tea, and she was responsive against him, which only emboldened him. His lips roamed the gentle curve of her jaw. Her skin was soft, flowing tautly over her delicate bones. He dipped his head down, following the slope of her neck until he reached the shelf of her clavicle.
Hisana arched closer to him. He could feel her breath hitch in her throat, and he could feel her pulse race. "Lord Byakuya," she murmured, gently pushing against his shoulder.
The sound of wood clacking against wood only confirmed his suspicion. He turned to find his aunt looming outside of the door. "Lord Kuchiki, your fiancée awaits your presence," she said, cocking a brow. She did not appear upset or angry over the spectacle. In fact, she seemed to have been expecting it. Perhaps it was her warped way of making amends.
He glared at her.
His aunt inclined her head and gave Hisana an onceover. "Vice Captain," she said, nodding her head. After acknowledging Hisana, she drew back the door.
Byakuya inhaled a deep breath and turned to Hisana.
She managed a dim half-smile. "This will be our last session," she said bowing her head demurely.
"Accept my offer," he murmured, searching her. He looped a finger under her chin and lifted her head up. Her cheeks were flushed, a pale shade of pink.
Hisana's gaze trailed to the floor. She refused to gaze into his eyes. "Lord Kuchiki," she murmured, pleadingly.
"I will not dismiss you until you do," he warned. But his voice fell short of a threat.
Hisana reached up and pressed a kiss against his cheek.
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to burn her very essence into his memory for safekeeping. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to feel her presence by him always.
When he mustered the courage to open his eyes, she was gone. Emptiness filled him as he considered the possibility that it would be the last time he would ever see her again.