Chapter 15: The Stable
Spurned by his horror, he stood. The side effect of a heavy sleep was disequilibrium. He wavered for a few strides—bleary-eyed and head pounding. All he could make out was the fire, still burning and warm. Absently, he took a few steps forward. The crackling flames drew him close.
Hisana was on watch. Her tiny form huddled over itself. He would have missed her presence completely if it had not been for the starkness of her kimono. She wore a dull red kimono, but the whiteness of the collar of her under robe caught his eye.
He paused for a moment to observe her. She had worn white when making the rounds at the Thirteenth. She had worn the standard Shihakushō when she made her requests for provisions before the council of captains. She always had worn a vibrant red kimono when she had visited his father.
He shook his head, trying to cast aside a rather beguiling thought: No one ever saw her as she truly was, only as she wished them to see her. She wore white to appease Captain Ukitake's sense of purity (and love of sugar). She wore the Shihakushō when she represented the interests of her division and Soul Society. She clothed herself in a lush red kimono when she visited his father because she knew that red was the color that Sōjun most associated with his late wife.
But, then, in front of the fire with the light of the flames dancing across her face, he saw past her cleverly crafted artifice. Red was her color, no doubt. But not the vivid, almost pornographic hue that she had chosen for his father's sake. The fabric that clung to her was plain, simple.
She was not pure, dutiful, or seductive.
She was practical, shrewd, and hardy.
His gaze lingered a moment too long, an ounce too heavy for she flinched in his direction. It was likely a subconscious movement. His presence and his looming gaze had sounded some silent alarm in her body, and she responded. "Lord Kuchiki," she greeted, gazing up at him with quiet, eager eyes. A small smile thinned her lips.
She seemed almost relieved to see him.
He wondered if her emotion was genuine, or if it was just another façade. She wore them all so effortlessly, transitioning from one form to another. He considered whether she was fully aware of her actions—if she was truly that calculating—or if it just came naturally to her.
She turned away from him. Her gaze locked onto the fire only a short distance from her feet. She sat folded over her legs. Her small wiry arms hugged her knees to her chest.
Maybe this was her true self. She had worn the faded red kimono throughout their journey. She was pensive and shrewd. Practical but never calculating. She faltered but it was with a strange grace. She seemed broken, not manufactured.
Byakuya shook his head. No. She would have to be quite the actress to pull off such a character. And, if she was, there was no point in speculating, he thought to himself.
Swift and silent, he sat beside her, staring deep into the flame. "You look uneasy," he observed clinically. Any shred of concern had been carefully removed from his voice. He eyed her, waiting for her response.
Hisana sat still. Not a muscle twitched in her body. At first, he wondered if he had even asked the question. Perhaps it was a hallucination? "There is something," he began, but did not complete the sentiment.
Never breaking her stare, a dim bittersweet smile broke her serene expression. "My apologies," she murmured, turning to him, "I have been keeping a secret." Her expression was perfectly earnest. Searchingly, her eyes surveyed his countenance, taking in each wrinkle and line.
Byakuya's lungs went cold at her revelation. Words formed in his head, but did not manifest in his mouth. His throat, tight and parched, ensured that they could not escape.
Hisana tilted her head to the side, and her gaze traveled to the cold wet ground. Her lips twitched, and her brows knitted together. Her mind raced, and he could see it on her face. "I have some skill with a bow," she said, gently.
Byakuya's brows furrowed. He sat uncomprehending what, exactly, her skills with a bow had to do with anything of substance.
A sly smile spread across her face at his vexation. Her eyes softened, and she pressed her lips together. Immediately, the tension between them diminished. She had made a small joke. Inhaling a breath, he settled comfortably beside her, shaking his head at his gullibility. "Why do you have skill with a bow?" he asked, turning his attention to the fire.
"Before I was a healer, I was a hunter."
This caught his attention, dragging it to her. Her confession was unexpected. He was more thorough in his examination of her visage before believing her. Her words rang true. She turned back to the flames, and a sullen look smoothed the lines of her face.
"What did you hunt?" he inquired.
"Anything that moved." Her voice was sharp, brutal. Her eyes narrowed into a piercing gaze.
Byakuya shifted in his seat. He had not anticipated her response. It shocked him, however. She was always so calm, so controlled. It was hard to imagine her weathered and desperate. It was hard to imagine her as anything other than the warm contemplative soul who sat beside him.
Knowingly, she shot him a sidelong glance. He could tell that she was reading him. Her gaze sharpened as she observed him. She knew of his struggles. The entire Seireitei knew of his headstrong nature—of his recklessness. But, in a glance, her eyes, soft and feeling, told him that not only did she know but she understood. She empathized with his struggles for she had struggled as well.
"A warrior's heart must be tamed. Its fluttering is a consequence of the passion that lights it," she murmured softly, so softly, that he barely could hear her above the branches snapping in the fire.
"Why did you select Kaien Shiba?" he asked abruptly.
She responded with a wide astute grin. The grin spread across her face, creating small laugh lines. "Of course," she said, seemingly amused by his brazenness. "I selected Vice Captain Shiba because of his heart. His fierce loyalty and friendship." The fire caught in her eyes as she spoke. Her once winsome expression transformed into a pensive shade.
"And Gin Ichimaru?"
Hisana's grin returned. She had discerned his intent, and he could tell that his restraint amused her. She shook her head as she contemplated his question. Unlike with Kaien, Gin's purpose took more time for her to articulate. "He knows the way where I do not."
Byakuya found the response unconvincing. There was something else lingering behind her veiled gaze. She had another, more logical reason for selecting Gin. A reason that would be damning if exposed.
He would not push it. There was no point. If anything, Gin struck a balance: two nobles and two peasants. Hisana and Gin also had a bond not shared by either him or Kaien. They spoke in shorthand at times—a strange system of nods and looks. Perhaps, it was a language known only to those who survived the deepest Rukon districts where words were too unbearable, too painful to speak. Or, perhaps, explaining their tribulations to the benighted nobles would have required too much energy—physical and emotional.
Hisana eyed him slyly. "I selected you," she began, hesitantly drawing her gaze up to meet his. Their eyes locked. He could feel it the moment that her full gaze had reached his. A strange "clicking" of neurons smarted under his skin. His senses dulled briefly, as if she had cast a spell over him. And, his heart seized. Its beating became sporadic, consisting of only violent starts and stops. He did not have a name for this strange horrible emotion, but he was certain she was its catalyst.
"I selected you," she began again, "because of the way you look at me. You see things that others don't. You see things as they are." Gone was the playful smile. Her eyes widened briefly. It was a fearful look, as if she had revealed a closely guarded secret. Quickly, she turned her gaze downward, and a dark contemplative stare creased her face.
Byakuya stared at her, too impotent to assuage her feelings, or his for that matter. Duty pulled him in the opposite direction of his wants. Uncertainty fell over him like a soggy blanket. His heart beat hard and erratically. It did so every time he saw her. Every time he heard her name. Every time he smelled her perfume. He sank into the warm sensation that she provoked within him. He sank, forgetting to swim.
"You are cold," he observed, feeling somewhat intoxicated. Without a second thought, he shrugged out of his haori, and wrapped it around her shoulders.
"Lord Kuchiki," she said, shaking her head. "I…"
"Well, well, well, it seems that Vice Captain Hisana had some help with her watch," Gin's voice crashed over them, breaking the intimacy.
Both Hisana and Byakuya whipped around to see the man standing a few meters away. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, and his ever-present smile widened. "How peasant. Did I just say peasant? I meant pleasant."
Hisana steeled her features. "Thank you, Vice Captain, for relieving me of my duty. I appreciate the respite."
. . . .
The next morning, the merry band of travelers were off.
The last few nights, they had not sought respite in proper lodgings because there were no proper lodgings to be found in the sprawling 19th District. It was all heavy dense rain forest. There were a few trading posts, where they could refuel and fill their canteens, but the trading posts were only marketplaces. The closest thing the travelers found that resembled room and board was a very lively brothel upon entering the 20th District.
"No inns?" Hisana inquired, eying the vendor, who plucked a few bean-filled rice balls from a jar.
"Inns?" he asked, as if she had gone stupid. "Inns?"
Her brows rose up, and she gave a small lingering nod of her head. "Yes, my companions and I have been traveling for a few long days now, and we are in desperate need of respite."
The vendor glanced over his shoulder at the two men who held Hisana's attention. "Eh," he murmured in a guttural intonation, "What is a woman like you doing in the company of two thugs?"
Ah, suspicion.
Hisana was wondering just when, exactly, she would run into it. Apparently, District 20 was where hospitality, good intentions, and naiveté began to fall into a steep decline. Only gets worse from here on out, she thought wearily to herself. At least the residents still have shoes. Shoes on their feet at least meant the residents had enough money, possessions, and order to keep them complacent. And, complacent people don't rebel.
She hoped.
Either way, she knew she had to be careful. Even if the populace, generally speaking, was not prone to revolution, it did not mean some of the insurgents had not penetrated the District. In fact, she was positive there were some rebel strongholds hidden nearby in relative seclusion, and, if they were in the forests that meant they came out to the towns for supplies at least some of the time.
Hisana frowned at the man. "Brothers." For once, she was relieved to be in Rukongai, where she would not have to explain away the lack of resemblance between Kaien, Gin, and herself. "My idiot brothers." There, that sounded more like the loving-but-slightly-put-out sibling relationships that she had observed in Seireitei.
The man's eyes narrowed. He was not buying a word of it. Not a single damned word. "Where you traveling?" Suddenly, his voice sounded particularly sinister. A dark edge hardened his consonants, and his lips pulled into a thin tense line.
Hisana ignored the scalding hot look he threw her way. "Just a vacation." She shrugged.
Handing her the rice balls, his eyes slipped down to her hands. "To jail, I see."
He mistook her vambrace for a shackle. It wasn't too far off, she thought. The Second used shackles with a very similar appearance on souls who were compliant and who possessed an inordinate amount of reiatsu.
Hisana masked her surprise, however, with an easy smile. "Or from it," she said, and she gave him a sly wink.
Cripes! She hoped she had managed to divert the course of his assumptions. He seemed a little too interested. It could be bad news later on.
Forcing her smile wider, she felt relief break over her the moment she saw a smug grin curl a corner of his mouth upward.
Maybe, just maybe, her chicanery worked.
"So, you are heading away from the center," he noted wryly.
She gave a slight nod of her head.
The vendor leaned over the counter of the kiosk, and, dipping his head down, he gave her a wolfish glare. His eyes, small but penetrating, glimmered in the hazy afternoon light, and his forehead, leathery from the sun and wrinkled from age, creased. "There aren't any inns 'round here, but there is a brothel down the street," he whispered conspiratorially.
Hisana stared at him. What was that supposed to mean? Was he insinuating that she sell her body in order to get a good night's rest? Preposterous!
"A pretty thing like you could fetch a nice price."
Her jaw dropped. Oh, how she had forgotten how direct the souls in Rukongai could be. She had long left the land of flowery words and vague meanings.
"I am sorry. You have mistaken. I do not deal in such currency."
"Well, the souls around these parts do. I would watch yourself lest you be brought in unwillingly," and his gaze shot over to Kaien and Gin, both of whom stood only a stone's throw away, munching on their purchased confections.
A threat?
She was flabbergasted, but she forced words of gratitude all the same. "Thank you. I will keep your advice in mind." She bowed her head politely and turned on her heel.
"No luck?" Kaien asked as she neared the pair.
Hisana shook her head. "None." Reflexively, she checked over her shoulder. The strange weathered vendor was still watching her with that same predatory gaze. "There is a brothel, though," she murmured under her breath so that no strange ears could overhear her.
Kaien stopped mid-chew. His eyes went wide. He obviously did not like where this particular conversation was going.
Gin, however, regarded her with exaggerated astonishment. His angular features hardened until he was all sharp probing lines and gleeful glances. His resemblance to a fox never ceased to perturb her. "We could always use the funds," he teased in his thick Rukon drawl.
Kaien glared at Gin. "Not in a thousand years."
"No," Hisana mumbled, feeling quite self-conscious, "I think too many questions would be asked," she retorted and tapped the metal bracer.
"That is not funny, Hisana," Kaien rebuked her.
She chuckled into the sleeve of her kimono. "I kid. I kid," she waved away the insinuations with a flick of her hand. "What I mean is the brothel may be an appropriate place to sleep for the night."
Kaien nearly choked on his mouthful of rice.
"Sleep," she repeated, placing extra emphasis on the word. Her gaze then flitted over to Ichimaru, "Although, I wouldn't judge if," her voice trailed into the distance, but her expression filled in the unspoken sentiments. If he were going to embarrass her, she would not hesitate to return the favor.
But, Gin proved to be quite imperturbable. His smile merely lengthened, making her instantly regret the reference.
"It isn't a poor plan," Gin said, satisfied with her level of disquiet.
Kaien glanced over to Byakuya, who was reading a pamphlet a few meters away.
Any port in the storm, Hisana mused drily. To imagine Kaien looking to Byakuya for support proved unreasonably entertaining. Hisana, however, repressed the giggle itching at the back of her throat.
"I suppose you think Lord Kuchiki will protest the idea," she said quietly.
Kaien prickled at her observation. "Yes, yes I do."
"Yes, you do what?" Byakuya's deep voice rolled across the group. He paused at Gin's side, where he stared questioningly in Kaien's direction.
"Byakuya, do you think a brothel is an appropriate billet?" Kaien inclined his head and folded his arms against his chest. He was clearly anticipating a certain response.
"It depends."
That response, however, did not come.
"What does that mean?" Kaien snapped, dropping his head down. His smug look faded into one of offense.
"It depends on the purpose of the accommodation," Byakuya replied evenly.
"For our purposes!"
Hisana lowered her head, hoping she could repress a grin long enough to bury it under a layer of silk. Gin, however, was not so modest.
"There are no inns," Byakuya surmised, turning to Hisana.
She shook her head. "Only a brothel a few streets down."
"Do you find the idea despicable?" he asked, meeting her gaze.
"No. I suggested it."
Byakuya's gaze drifted to Gin, "And you?"
"Sounds delightful," Gin answered.
"It is settled."
. . . .
"It is settled," Kaien groaned under his breath as he and Hisana crossed into a small room.
Their paid companion for the evening seemed thrilled they had purchased her time for the whole night. Mostly, she seemed pleased with Kaien.
He was handsome, Hisana noted upon feeling the woman's gaze flit to her.
The prostitute, however, seemed to be withholding judgment on what, exactly, to do with Hisana, the clear aberration to the woman's nocturnal course.
"Like we said," Kaien began, "We're not interested in your services. We just need some place to sleep for the evening."
The woman shed one of her robes all the same. Maybe she had heard a similar refrain once before? Hisana had no idea what to expect.
"No, no, no," he insisted, catching the silk before it fell to the ground. With lightning-fast speed, he draped it over her shoulders. "I really mean it. Keep your clothes on."
Hisana shut the door and turned to find the woman staring at him in horror.
"What do you mean? Keep my clothes on?" The words must have been foreign to her. Perhaps she had not been listening to Kaien's explanation all along.
"I mean keep your clothes on. Me and my," Kaien paused, staring helplessly back at Hisana.
"My brother, here, means that we are very tired. We would like to rest. Nothing sexual."
The woman stared slack jawed with her mouth agape. She was in the powerful throes of disbelief. "What?" she asked, astonished.
Hisana frantically surveyed the area. It was obvious the woman was having a hard time with the strange concept of people using her room as an inn. "Although," Hisana began again, spotting a lovely shamisen in the corner, "we wouldn't mind if you played a song for us."
This seemed to placate the woman's expectations somewhat. "Very well, then," she sighed, dejectedly, and crossed the floor to her instrument.
Hisana and Kaien exchanged glances. He appeared clearly traumatized. He had a wife after all. Even so, Kaien seemed to abide by an ethical code that differed from other men in the ranks; prostitution was not morally congruent with Kaien's ethical paradigms.
Hisana smiled at him and nodded her head. "I've got this," she murmured.
He seemed hesitant to relent, but, when the woman began strumming the shamisen, he relaxed a bit.
Both Hisana and Kaien took a seat among the pillows scattered throughout the room. Kaien kept to the periphery. Sitting with his back braced against the wall, he leaned his sword beside his shoulder.
"I wonder how the others are faring," Hisana whispered, sitting seiza a few paces from Kaien.
He leaned his head back and stared into the ceiling. A broad smile split his lips, exposing exactly who was fixing his thoughts. "I hope poorly."
Hisana laughed. "You are vindictive, Sir Shiba."
The woman glanced up from her playing. Her brown eyes focused on Hisana. "Is everything to your liking?"
She did not like Hisana's laugh. Or, perhaps, she did not like the fact that Hisana was laughing.
"Yes, very much so. Thank you for your graciousness."
"Can I offer you tea or food? The night will be a long one."
"Yes," Kaien said, eagerly shooting forward in his seat. "Whatever you've got."
The woman giggled politely. "Very well, then." She immediately sprang to her feet and disappeared down a corridor.
"She must find this arrangement very peculiar," Hisana observed, craning her head to watch the woman round the bend.
"I find this arrangement very peculiar," he mocked.
"Get some rest, Sir Shiba. I will keep watch."
"Keep watch?" he echoed, shocked that she would worry about such a thing. "For what?"
A devious smile twisted Hisana's lips. Her gaze then drifted to the supplies stacked neatly in the corner of the room. "Oh, Sir Shiba, you are too pure intentioned."
His brows lowered and knitted together at her pronouncement. He did not agree with her assessment of his character.
"Why did you think I recommended that we keep all the supplies in here?" she asked, arching a brow.
He did not move an inch in reply.
"We would be the only ones paired off. Sir Kuchiki and Gin are in separate rooms. We are together. There is an extra person to watch after our items."
His brows lifted at her logic. "You think they would steal?" The thought seemed unfathomable to him, especially after the sizeable price they paid to take comfort.
Hisana huffed a small breath. "Some of them, perhaps." And they couldn't afford losing supplies. Not this early into their journey.
He stretched back, allowing his muscles to sink into the wall and cushions. "Are you sure you want to take first watch?" he asked, eying her tiredly.
Hisana nodded. "I am not tired at all."
This concerned him. His once heavy lidded eyes widened, and his back straightened. "Are you sure?"
Again, she nodded. "Yes."
"You haven't been sleeping well." A dark worriment hung in the air and colored his visage.
"I suppose it is a side-effect."
"Do you need anything?"
Hisana shook her head. "I feel as well as can be expected."
It was a lie. Everything—from her nerves to her fine motor muscles—cried out in anguish. It was worse at night, when she was expected to be still and wait for her guardians to sleep when she could not.
Perhaps having an equally tireless companion would provide enough stimulation for her to push through the pain.
Kaien leaned toward the tower of supplies. "I have some pain killers," he stated. With quick precision, he plucked the parcel from the stack, and he tossed it to her in a soft underhand motion.
"What is this?" She stared down at the small leather satchel. Finding the fasteners, she pulled back the worn top to find a cache of medical supplies.
Wide-eyed and excited, she smiled up at him.
"No," he stated coldly. "I know what you're thinking, Hisana. But, no. These items are for you. Not for Gin. Not for Byakuya. Not for me. And, definitely, not for every hapless soul we pass along the way." His voice was surprisingly scolding. For a moment there she thought Byakuya had wandered into the room.
She grimaced at his conditions. "Captain Unohana?" she said, knowingly.
"The one and only."
Hisana shook her head. "Of course."
When their paid hostess returned, her arms were full with food and drink—tea, fish, rice, vegetables, warm sake. It was a veritable feast.
Kaien dove in, famished from long days filled with poor nutrition. For the stretches where there were no towns, the group had been subsisting off berries and the stray squirrels and birds that Gin and Hisana had managed to snare or fell with poorly constructed slings loaded with pebbles.
Needless to say, the small game and berries were not cutting it for the men. Not with their level of spiritual power. They required more just to function properly.
Hisana, however, found it difficult to muster an appetite. The strange relic seemed to deplete her of everything pleasurable. Food, sleep, tranquility—all of it, gone. All she had left was misery and a slow painful torture.
"Here," Kaien said between bites, sliding some food into a bowl, "It is good."
Hisana raised a hand, making a stopping motion. "No, Sir Shiba. Please. I am not hungry."
He was not pleased with this refusal. "Come. You need to eat," he insisted.
The prostitute stared at Hisana before she turned back to Kaien. "Don't worry," she interceded, "I can always fetch her food when she becomes hungry."
For that, Hisana was grateful. "Thank you," she said kindly.
Kaien watched her with a careful look. "Hisana," he murmured. His eyes fixed the leather satchel. "If necessary."
She read his meaning well. "If necessary, milord."
After his meal, Kaien slipped into a small food coma. Or, at least, he seemed dead to the world.
Hisana turned to the woman, who played dutifully at her shamisen. "What is your name?"
"Hana," she said, her strumming instinctively becoming quieter.
Hisana glanced down at the grains of rice sticking to the bamboo bowls. She had the lines and curvature of the dishes memorized. Anything to take her mind off the painful burning sensation that hounded her left arm.
"Is he your," Hana began, but she quickly stopped herself, "I mean, if you don't mind my asking."
Hisana smiled. "No. Not at all. He is my brother." A convincing lie, or so she thought.
"You often go to brothels with your brother?"
A chuckle burst forth from Hisana's lips. "No," she laughed. "We are traveling, and there haven't been any inns for several days. This is the closest we've come to taking refuge in a place with walls and a roof."
"Oh," Hana said and giggled politely, "I see. So you weren't lying."
"Oh, no. He is very tired."
"He has a lot of…aura," Hana observed. "You do, too, though."
Yeah, but mine is fast becoming non-existent, Hisana thought wearily to herself. "I think the excitement of traveling gets to me."
Hana grinned at her, but there was something lingering in her eyes. Perhaps she was incredulous, after all. Not that Hisana blamed her.
Then, like a ton of bricks to the head, it hit her. The woman was surreptitiously staring at her vambrace. A portion of the metal shone under her sleeve, flickering in the dim overhead lighting.
Hisana shared her gaze, and she flushed, quickly tugging the cloth over the metal.
"A shackle?" the woman asked and shifted next to Hisana. In an instant, her hands were peeling back the sleeve so she could get a better look at it.
The sight was ghastly. Metal and skin was not a particularly good combination. The bracer had rubbed a few sores into Hisana's flesh that she could not keep fully healed. The abrasion, too, was equally apparent. A wide red swath of skin extended from the bracer up her arm to her elbow. She tried her best to keep an unguent on the wounds, and it worked, but the metal's friction was no match.
"Oh, my," the woman gasped and then began tenderly stroking Hisana's hand, "you poor thing. He's not your brother at all, is he?"
Hisana's gaze trailed back to Kaien. "No. It is just armor," she managed.
Hana's eyes darken at the mendacity. "It's alright. I won't tell anyone."
"No, really." Might as well commit, Hisana thought ruefully to herself. "It is armor to keep me safe while we travel."
"No, it's alright," the woman murmured soothingly, "I've seen it before. Some men can be." She pressed her lips together, ever sensitive to Kaien's slumbering movements. When he quieted down, she gave a sullen nod of her head. "The sex trade can be harsh," she said, donning a sympathetic look. "My husband sold me a few years ago. But I was lucky."
Oh great, now our paid company thinks Kaien is a brutal sex fiend. Or worse. Yakuza.
Hisana would have laughed at the irony of the situation if she hadn't been so distressed by it. Briefly, she wondered if the vendor had drawn a similar conclusion. Maybe he, too, thought her companions were in the sex trafficking business.
Hisana parted her lips, ready to deny, deny, deny, but she stopped herself before the words could form in her mouth. There was no use. As long as no one suspected their true motives, so what? Kaien, Gin, and Byakuya would never see these souls again.
"Tomorrow, I will take you to a nice spring, and you can relax before…you know," Hana said gently. "You will be alright." A fine platitude if there ever was one. "Tell me, are you traveling up or down the districts?"
"Down," Hisana responded in a soft voice, careful to ensure that Kaien would not hear.
Hana's face said it all: Her eyes grew large. Her mouth formed the shape of a small black "O," and Hisana heard the woman's breath hitch in her chest. "You will need that relaxing bath."
She had no doubt she would.
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading!
Anony: Unfortunately, it was just a dream. Thanks for reviewing!
Mous1elousi3: Thanks so much! I have been loosely using the 12 Labors for inspiration. (Very loosely.)
Sunev.31: Yes, poor hormonal adolescent!Byakuya. He is too easy to torture. Thanks!