Chapter 10: Lessons Unlearned
Kaien and Hisana were the first to arrive at the Second Division. Two weary-eyed Shinigami greeted them at the gate, and escorted them to a large, dark antechamber. The Second was rife with large, dark empty spaces and even darker motives.
Patiently, Hisana and Kaien waited.
Gin Ichimaru was late. Hisana might have taken umbrage—she might have found his tardiness a quiet protest—if not for the fact that Gin Ichimaru was always late. The rules didn't apply to him. They never had, and it was unlikely that they ever would. Gin Ichimaru's absence, however, did not particularly aggravate Hisana's sensibilities. It hardly fazed her. His punctuality, or lack thereof, was not the reason she selected him. No. She had selected him for a very different purpose. A very specific purpose.
The Second's Third Seat, an ever-changing face and name, strode into the room with his breast poked out proudly, and his arms crossed behind his back. Stopping in the middle of the floor, he lifted his head high and peered down at Hisana. His look was minatory, likely fashioned to intimidate lesser-ranked men. It had no effect on either her or Kaien. Hisana could tell that no thought or light undulated beneath his stare. It was an empty look befitting the empty chamber.
"Good afternoon," Hisana murmured half-heartedly. The sound of her voice distracted her from the room's cold dankness. It was a momentary diversion, however. The silence, like the darkness, lingered around the periphery and quickly encroached on the room's occupants.
The Third Seat acknowledged Hisana and Kaien with a shifty glance. "Vice Captains Hisana and Shiba," his voice was strong, "the meeting will commence once the others have arrived."
Others?
Hisana's brows furrowed. Gin was the only one missing. Wasn't he? Reflexively, she surveyed the room. Inky darkness and nothing. There was no answer to her self-imposed question.
Who else was coming?
She exchanged furtive glances with Kaien. Apparently, the Vice Captain of the Thirteenth was as questioning as she was. The sudden glint in his eyes and bend in his brows told her that the news caught him off guard, too.
Neither spoke a word.
A few painfully quiet moments passed. Silence hovered over them. It slid into the darkness of the chamber, threatening to stifle what little could have been said. Hisana was left with nothing to drown out the thoughts crying at the back of her mind. She had become an expert over the years at stuffing back her inner-most feelings, but the absence of any sort of stimulation was making it difficult.
Her solution was to stand rigid. Each of her postural muscles reached up, like strings being pulled from the ceiling, and locked. Soon the fibers burned and ached, and, for a brief moment, this was enough to settle her thoughts. When she began to numb to the pain, she inhaled a deep breath. The air from the chamber—humid and cold—stung the tender lining of her lungs, but she expertly fought back the urge to cough. Catching her breath, she inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, keeping time with her internal clock.
Gin was late.
Minutes, hours, months could have passed before he arrived. He did not care, and he brandished his carelessness when he waltzed into the room as if all were well—as if his presence had been timely. He strode across the floor with his endless smile plastered to his face. With a slight bend of his head, he acknowledged his new companions. "Good afternoon," he said in his patented Rukon drawl; it was deep and thick, almost melodic.
At least, it sounded like music to Hisana's ears. She knew the dialect well. It reminded her of home, or, at least, the fondest memories she had of home. (Which weren't many.)
Gin filed into line next to Kaien. He nodded his head. "Apologies," he murmured up at the Third Seat. "I was delayed."
He hadn't been delayed, Hisana noted to herself. To be delayed meant that one had been stopped, hindered by duty. But, there was nothing to impede Gin Ichimaru. Captain Aizen was scholarly and careful. He would have cleared Gin of all his duties. And, Rangiku had passed out on a couch, clutching a bottle of sake to her breast when Hisana had left the Tenth.
Repressing the urge to frown, Hisana breathed a small breath and straightened her posture. She was ready for the meeting to commence. Moments, hushed and long, passed. "Who else?" she murmured so softly that no one heard her.
Confused, she followed the Third Seat's gaze. It lingered over the door. Someone was missing. Someone she was not expecting.
Who?
With baited breath, she waited. With baited breath, she could feel a sudden change in the atmospheric pressure. She knew that feeling. Experience had burned it into her memory, into her very sinews. It plucked a few happy strings in her heart. Her blood ran straight to her cheeks. Her jaw dropped. Her heart stopped. She stood frozen in horror as the door opened. A bright rectangle of light pierced the dark chamber. Only at the Second could the light be as unwelcoming and as brutal as the darkness.
Her body knew what her mind refused to believe.
It was impossible, her thoughts cried inside her head. She had been so clever. So sure.
"Lord Kuchiki?"
Byakuya Kuchiki paused outside the door. Light pooled around him, obscuring his face and figure. But she knew it was he. She could feel his essence meet hers before swirling against her. She closed her eyes and exhaled a long breath.
Byakuya soundlessly crossed the blackened chamber. With quiet elegance, he filed in line beside Gin Ichimaru. He stood stone-faced and donning the coldest of gazes. The coldest of gazes, at least, until his eyes met hers.
Hisana flushed. A bright shade of pink streaked her cheeks. A surge of heat fired through her veins, warming her soul as she stared at him.
She wanted to cry out in protest. She wanted to ward him away. She wanted to stop the proceedings. She wanted to protect him. But, the words never found her. Her heart split in half before turning on her, stealing her breath and squelching the words forming in her mind.
This had not been her plan. Quite the contrary. Selecting his name was to be her parting lesson. She had wanted to demonstrate just how foolish his request was. She had wanted to prove to him that even if she requested his skill that he could not follow her. She had wanted him to learn his place, just as she had learned hers.
He was above her. He existed in a stratosphere that she could not fathom; a sphere that was filled with protocols and etiquette that she had never learned and with expectations that she would never have to meet. Likewise, she inhabited a space that he could never understand, filled with battles that he would never have to fight and with scars that he would never have to conceal.
They were different. They were incompatible. They could never be. The light of day would have rejected them.
"The meeting shall now commence," the Third Seat bellowed, cutting through her thoughts. "There are three things to remember, to memorize and to never forget," the Third Seat began perfunctorily.
Hisana turned to the sound of the voice, booming like a war drum over their heads. Her eyes trailed to the floor, slick and grimy. She closed her eyes, trying her best to block out the words. She didn't need to hear them. She was perfectly aware of the fate that sealed them together.
"First, there will be no reliance on Zanpakutō," he continued. "No releases. Period."
The temperature in the room plummeted. Kaien, in particular, seemed the most dismayed, followed closely by Byakuya. Gin, however, remained still and unfazed as if the Third Seat had just announced that their mission was to take a leisurely stroll through a park.
"Second, all spiritual arts are disallowed."
Hisana lowered her head. What had she done? Grief and horror crashed over her, like waves pummeling the sand. While her eyes remained glued to the floor, she could feel the churning in the room. She could feel the frustration and the protest.
"Third, Vice Captain Hisana will be stripped of all of her abilities."
No healing. No flash step. No offensive ability. No kido. She would be the deadest of dead weight.
The Third Seat then turned to Hisana. "Vice Captain Hisana, you are required to report to the Second at 0300 hours tomorrow."
Hisana nodded her compliance. "Yes."
"Vice Captains Shiba and Ichimaru and Lord Kuchiki," the Third Seat threw a stern gaze their way, "you are required to report to the Second at 1200 hours tomorrow."
Hisana stood static. She could hardly comprehend the world beyond her internal maelstrom. The blacks and greys of the chamber ran together. The movements and the chill of their wake hit her on a delay. Everything—every thought and feeling—felt scrambled. It was all beginning to bleed into each other—the ends and the beginnings. Somewhere in the middle, she laid. The colors, textures, and emotional inertia collided together until there was nothing but the black. Nothing but the darkness.
She felt alone. She felt horrified and empty. The sensations consumed her, swallowed her whole. She could hardly stand straight. Her small shoulders sagged under the great mental weight that she placed upon herself.
It was all too much. She felt overwhelmed. The world began to spin and spin and spin. Then it suddenly stopped. The whirling room stopped. The soul crushing feeling of responsibility, of guilt, and of impending failure just stopped. All there was left was a warm sensation climbing up her hand, like a firm glove.
Immediately, her head snapped up. Her eyes met his. Sudden and sharp, her heart slowed its clipped beating. Immediately, she regretted everything.
She had not taught him a lesson about the world and their places in it. She had not accomplished what she had hoped to accomplish—to show him that their stations in this life were forever apart. Instead, she had issued him a challenge. A challenge that he had been all too eager to accept.
Her fingers curled around his, and she lifted her head. All she could see was blue. His eyes, bright and resolute, stared into hers. She could see so much in his look—hurt, pain, and unwavering readiness. She wondered if he could see through her flimsily constructed façade. 'Probably,' her inner voice chimed. He was alarmingly perceptive.
"Lord Kuchiki," she murmured, pleadingly. Her heart filled. She wanted to talk him out of his decision. She felt that she owed it to him. She felt that he should know.
Byakuya bowed his head slightly before leading her toward the door—tacit disapproval of the words that swirled in her heart and danced on her tongue. No, he did not need to hear them, especially from her. His was sure. His resolve was unshakable.
She followed him, unquestioning. 'I,' she thought morosely, 'I am so sorry.'
Kaien lingered outside, leaned against the doorframe. A cool look smoothed the edges of his face until he turned to Byakuya. The change was instant. He acknowledged the young lord with a wry grin and a perked bow. "So you're coming, too?" he asked in a dry tenor. Casually, he folded his arms against his chest.
Byakuya's eyes deadened, like a shark prowling for prey at the ocean's depths. "My skill was requested," he stated matter-of-factly. His gaze slipped away from Kaien.
Kaien smirked. He had anticipated Byakuya's reaction and countered it with a shake of his head. "Is that right?" he scoffed.
Hisana went pale. An unnatural pallor spread across her countenance, and dark grey circles hung below her eyes. She bit her bottom lip as she tried to contain the storm thundering in her soul. If only she could stop it. The world began to tilt and rotate again. Just like before.
'If only…'
"Are you well, Hisana?" Kaien asked, bending down to inspect her. He steadied her, placing a hand against her shoulder. "Hisana?"
"I will take her back to the Fourth's barracks," Byakuya stated indifferently. Or was it defensively? Hisana was unsure. Her poor wracked mind was beginning to slur things—images, feelings, sensations—together. She was not sure if she had hallucinated the entire meeting.
Briefly, she hoped she had hallucinated the meeting. Byakuya's touch, however, quickly dispelled any illusions that she may have harbored. Everything was stunningly real and happening to her.
"How magnanimous of you, Lord Kuchiki," Gin called sweetly, waving his farewell, "take her to bed carefully." There was an undercurrent of scandal in his voice. There was always a hidden meaning or look with Gin. She hated to admit it, but Gin Ichimaru had a gift. He could wield words more proficiently than some men could wield their Zanpakutō.
Byakuya heard the comment. She knew because she could feel the muscles in his hand tense on impact. Momentarily, she wondered if Byakuya had discerned the innuendo. Likely, she mused. Byakuya was arrogant, but he was also self-aware.
When they reached the Fourth, she stopped him with a small incoherent noise. "Lord Kuchiki," she began, hoping not to inconvenience him more than she had already. "I," she began but could not finish.
He stopped and stared down at her.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked, letting her manners get the better of her. Her gaze fell to the ground, and her lips pulled to the left lopsidedly. It wasn't what she wanted to say. It was just what came out.
Whether Byakuya wanted a cup of tea or not, he agreed with a small nod of his head.
Wordless, the two wound their way through the Fourth's barracks.
Byakuya had never seen her quarters; although, she doubted he would have been impressed or surprised, for that matter. The Fourth's Vice Captain dormitory was standard. If Byakuya had ever visited his father at the Sixth (which he had) or had aspirations of assuming his father's position at the Sixth (which he did) he knew the layout. It was reasonably sized for one person, and it was open. The sleeping, eating, and cooking areas flowed into one another. And, she kept it immaculate.
Quietly, she bent back the door and crossed over the threshold. He followed her, shutting the door behind them. Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed.
His reiatsu filled the room; it filled her. She could hardly breathe as she reached for the small kettle. Everything felt heavy—her hands, her arms, her heart, and her muscles. She felt lumbering. Her hands knocked into the kettle, causing a small stir as she filled it with water.
"Apologies," she murmured tensely, shooting him a small appeasing look.
Byakuya, however, appeared immune to the cacophony. Either her efforts weren't as loud or as blundering as she thought, or he was too polite or too distracted to care.
A few moments later, she emerged from her makeshift kitchen with tea in hand and an apology on her lips. "It isn't as good as the tea your steward prepares," she said softly.
Byakuya accepted her offerings with a measured look. Regally, he took a seat on one of her sitting mats, and he sipped from the cup. His disgust at the tea, if there was any, had been carefully shielded behind a layer of stoic resolve.
Hisana gracefully dropped down to her knees and took a small mouthful. It wasn't half-bad. It was not as good as the tea prepared at his manor, but it was not the worst batch of tea that she had concocted.
She took another sip, hoping that it would ease her sparking nerves. She inhaled a deep breath of steam and stared into the murky liquid. The tea was fragrant, warm, and bitter. The sensations should have infused her and settled her. It did not.
Feeling the sting of his gaze against her cheek, she raised her eyes. As much as she wanted to issue him one of her patented, 'everything is going to be okay,' smiles, her muscles would not oblige her. Instead, her brows knitted together, and her eyes darkened.
"Lord Kuchiki," she began.
Her gaze trailed to the floor, where it lingered for the better part of a minute. She didn't know where to begin. She had so much to say—so much to tell him. Her heart was heavy, but her tongue was stubborn.
Byakuya regarded her quietly for a few moments. His look was so intense, so probing. She had seen that look before when he was studying something—a technique, a spell. "You meant to teach me a lesson," he noted quietly.
Hisana smiled gently. His voice was unexpectedly sensual and deep as it hit her. Yet, another sign that he was shedding his youth—that he was becoming a man. Sometimes it took her by surprise. "I believe you taught me a lesson instead," she murmured.
"I suspected as much this morning," he said dispassionately, but his gaze betrayed him at the last minute. He was wounded.
She bowed her head. "Do you remember when you were first learning Hadō #33—Sōkatsui?"
Byakuya lifted his head. He remembered.
"We were on the mountain, and you wanted to combine it with a melee attack."
"You told me not to," he said, recalling the event.
Hisana nodded.
"But I did it anyway."
Her smile dimmed.
"The spell backfired, and I was injured." Ascertaining her point before she made it, Byakuya's lips sloped into a frown, and his gaze darkened. "This is different."
"No," she said. Her voice extended the word out longer. It sounded wistful, almost haunting. "The risks are much greater."
He lowered his head. She was always looking out for him even beyond her role as his instructor. Even beyond her role as a healer. He knew of her gentle suggestions to his father. Sōjun never revealed his source, but it was all too obvious. She was always trying to protect him from harm, from harsh words, and from even harsher intentions. She was always trying to soothe him, trying to recast his youthful vigor toward more suitable pursuits.
She never gave him the opportunity to repay her favors, small or large.
"I will protect you," he stated, confident and self-assured. His eyes burned with the intensity of a young fire—a fire that surely lit his heart and heated his soul.
Hisana smiled at the sincerity flickering in his voice. He meant it, and she had no doubt that he would try. But try as he might, his heart, sincerity, or confidence would not overcome the one constant: "I die at the end." Her voice broke the moment she raised her gaze to his. Her resolve failed her. The resolve that she had been building so carefully crumbled under his stare. The truth flooded her mind like the whitest of lights. She didn't wish to die. The longing in her heart betrayed her as she watched him. She longed to live. She wanted to redress her crimes—both big and small. And, staring into his determined face made her realize that her carefully constructed façade was just that—an illusion.
She shut her eyes. Her mind replayed her statement, scrutinizing each syllable and every word. There was a question in her observation. It rang loud in her ears and even louder in his.
'I die at the end. Are you prepared for that?'
She watched him as the words, unspoken, broke over him like a tidal wave. She watched him so closely that she could almost see inside him. She could almost see the gears of his mind working hard to answer the question as if it was a riddle in need of solving.
"It doesn't have to be that way." His confidence wavered as he spoke the words. Defiance replaced the confidence that once emanated from his slate grey eyes.
Hisana's lips thinned into a sweet knowing smile.
Kaien had said something similar, and, like when Kaien had intimated the same, she felt her heart swell. For a brief moment, hope flashed inside of her, searing through her chest and taming her fraying wits. If there was a way around certain death, she was certain Kaien and Byakuya could find it through willpower alone.
"Come," she said, offering him her hand as she stood. "I have to be prepared." What for? She was too scared to inquire; although, she had inkling that it would include medical procedures. Nasty ones.
Byakuya accepted her hand and took to his feet. She led him to the threshold of the room, but her heart faltered as she reached for the door. She needed another minute. She needed the respite. She needed the sound of his voice—or hers—to keep the silence from her ears.
Apprehensive, her eyes drifted up to him.
Byakuya loomed over her, and she suddenly felt small in comparison. It hadn't always been the case. He had always been taller than she was, but, then, he seemed imposing. 'Have I always been this small?' Her mind flashed on their first meeting at the Fourth. 'No. He has definitely grown.'
Before pulling back the door, she fired out a question, "You are coming to the celebration tonight?" The question proved to be an adequate diversion for her knotted thoughts.
Byakuya stared down at her. His features were still, unreadable. She could tell that he was inspecting her intentions. But, she could be as hard to decipher as he was. "Yes," he murmured softly.
Hisana nodded and forced a small smile before turning back to the door. Again, her heart skipped a beat, and her hand refused. Again, she turned back toward him. Again, she was about to ask another question or make another trifling observation, but she couldn't.
"Did you mean it?" he asked gently.
She went scarlet. Her cheeks heated and burned with great intensity. She wasn't completely certain what it was he was asking, but the question invoked memories from the night prior. Her heart jumped inside her chest and nearly caught in her throat. "Mean what?" she choked out.
His expression softened upon glimpsing her state of disarray. "Did you mean it when you chose my name?"
Her lips trembled in response. The question dumped a metric ton of adrenalin in her system. She lowered her head, feeling partly defeated and partly guilty. 'Of course he would ask the harder question.' There it was; the question that she had asked herself repeatedly. In her mind, she had hoped that Captain Kuchiki would intervene. But, her intentions when she scribbled his name onto the page shortly before handing it to her captain? She closed her eyes, and her lips slipped into a frown. She was not certain.
She couldn't answer his question with words. It would have been too painful. Instead, she turned into his chest. His sweet smell—exotic spices and earth—lit her brain. She could feel his warmth soothe her with greater potency than the tea had managed. His heartbeat was strong and steady. Slowly, she could feel her own body synchronize with his. Temptation expanded in her chest before crawling up her throat, where it strangled her.
He wrapped his arms around her, and he pulled her closer.
. . . .
Effortlessly, Byakuya swung the door back with great dexterity. The resulting display was an elegant soundless motion. He prized such precision. In fact, he had perfected the art of breaking and entering into his own abode. It was a necessary skill, all things considered. It had spared him many angry looks and even angrier words when he went "missing" for hours of the day.
Securing the door behind him, Byakuya lightly stepped down the corridor toward his room. His feet made not a sound. In fact, he was practically hovering over the hardwood, careful to miss boards that squeaked from years of abuse.
Silent footfalls, however, were not going to save him. As he rounded the corner to his quarters, he stopped. His heart seized in cold refusal. He had been detected. He had walked into a laughably simple trap set by his aunt. Grimly, he wondered how long she had been prowling the hallway to his room. Probably for the last hour. Perhaps longer.
"Lord Kuchiki!" she cried. Inhaling a deep breath, she clenched her chest and sighed. "Where have you been? Your fiancée has been worried to death."
Byakuya's complexion paled, and the lines of his face became tense. No matter how hard he tried to smooth out his expression, he could not hide his displeasure.
'I request to reinstate the Vice Captain's orders. It is my last request as a youth. . . . I will do whatever the family wishes after.' The words sounded in his head with the same volume as when he had uttered them. Apparently, his grandfather took no time to capitalize on his new-found weakness.
The Family was going to make him earn his request. He was half-expecting his aunt to announce his family had scheduled his betrothal for that night. Perhaps, they were going to ask for his DNA, ship it over to the Twelfth, and make clones for good measure. Just in case.
"Where have you been all night and day?" she demanded, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "You were late for the meeting with your grandfather this morning, and then you come prancing in at dusk?" Her lips tightened, forming a straight line across her face.
Repressing the urge to scowl, he shifted his gaze to the open door leading to his room. It was dark. Inky shadows crept into the room with each passing second.
"Well?" she huffed, foot tapping impatiently against the burnished hardwood.
"To which question were you referring?" he asked, deadpan.
"Where were you into the wee hours of the morning?"
He sidestepped around her petite figure. "You do not want to know," he answered darkly. She didn't, and he was in no mood to lie to her.
She grimaced but kept her thoughts sealed behind tightly pursed lips. "You left Lady Nanako just sitting here this afternoon!"
"Is that a question?" he asked, deftly reaching for the door as he entered his chambers. He toyed with the idea of just shutting it behind him, but duty stopped his hand.
"It is an admonishment!" His aunt's brows lowered, and she shot him a scorching gaze. "You will escort her to the event this evening."
He turned to her, brandishing the most civil look he could muster.
"You made a promise," she said slyly eyeing him. "Something about respecting the family's wishes until the end of your days? Duty-bound until your dying breath? Sound familiar?"
He lifted his head. "I will accompany her," he said stiffly.
"Your gaze will not go searching for any riffraff," she ordered.
Byakuya's eyes widened at the horrible epithet that his aunt had composed for Hisana. A cold stinging anger surged through him, building like an avalanche with each passing moment.
"And you will stay by her side. You will heap attention on her and only her, and you will escort her home tonight. You will not go wandering the hinterland, and you will not spend the night in the company of the uncouth."
Byakuya stared at her, reticent to speak his contempt. He felt his contempt, nonetheless. It hit him with a great force, and it burned his stomach, like a bad wine. "Very well."
"You will ensure she has a pleasant time."
"Yes."
"Good. Now, get dressed. You smell like the infirmary." She drew out the last word a beat longer than necessary before shutting his door.
Byakuya turned his cheek and glanced down. He had not noticed it before, but he could smell Hisana's fragrance clinging to his robes; however, it didn't smell like the infirmary. The sterile scents of disinfectants, bleaches, and chemicals rarely adorned her. Instead, she smelled like flowers and wet sweet earth—the ingredients that she muddled together when making healing salves or pain relievers.
She smelled of bellflowers.
He shut his eyes and inhaled a deep breath.
He could still feel her warmth against his chest, burning his flesh. He could still feel the way her delicate form pressed against him. The lines of her body were forever preserved in his mind.
She hadn't cried or trembled. Instead, she remained perfectly still. She remained perfectly stoic. Her resolve had been shaken. By what? He had a handful of guesses. However, he never inquired. He was contented to have her in his arms.
He opened his eyes and exhaled.
He stuffed the feelings down, but to no avail. All he could smell were the bellflowers, and all he could focus on was the phantom sensation of her mouth against his. He wondered how he was going to hide his thoughts from his fiancée because the more he tried to stifle the emotions churning inside him, the more they expanded and chewed at his heart.
Author Notes: So, I split this chapter up. Initially, I had intended to place the celebration (which will be explained in the next chapter) and the preparation for the mission in this one. But, goodness that would have been too long. (The chapter seems long enough!) This chapter went through several incarnations before I decided on this version. I may go back and spruce it up like I did the chapter before. (Which also has a number of incarnations hanging out in my trash bin.) I decided to leave any intimacy between Byakuya and Hisana insinuated to have occurred in her quarters to the imagination. Hope you all enjoyed! As always, thanks for reading, and thanks to those who review! I appreciate it!
Juliedoo: Aw, thanks so much! I always wonder if Hisana was a member of the squads. Initially, I was not keen on the idea, but, after going through Bleach again not too long ago, it seems to be a sensible possibility. She struggled with taking care of her sister, which may have stemmed from a need to attend to her spiritual power. Also, her running into Byakuya would be easily explained if she resided in his home territory. Either way, thanks again!
Sunev.31: Thanks so much! Writing the scene where it is revealed that he is very much part of the mission was interesting because it is mostly in Hisana's POV. So, there is a lot of dissonance in her over this revelation. Thanks again! I appreciate your readership!
Rose Attack: I must have re-written that scene at least 10 times. Thanks for your kind words!
Juud: Aw! Thanks so much! Yes, you are very correct in thinking Byakuya is distancing himself from the Lady. I was also trying to flesh out her character as well because she obviously senses that he would prefer to be anywhere else. Hopefully, their dynamic is sketched out in the next chapter. Thanks again, Juud!