A/N: Hey guys. So this took way longer to get out than it should've. I've been totally burned out. I have a problem with depression and there was a mix up at the pharmacy with my meds so I've been a little wanky these past couple of weeks. Would totally appreciate some feedback and motivation.
After this chapter theres only 5 more, so we're almost there.
Terms to know:
yukata: Light wight, festive full length garment.
tsubaki: Camellias
kimono: Kimono are worn differently for woman and men. Men wear theres under a hakama, and typically its made of black silk for extremely formal events
ho-ho: Phonex
ryu: Dragon
tobu hebi: Means Jumping snake. SS version of the waltz (This is my own personal lore)
antirrhinum majus: Snapdragons
Haha: Formal mother
Otōsan: Father
Ryū no odori: Dancing dragon
Onmitsukidō: Stealth squad
zabuton: Floor cushions
Song: Banks "Waiting Game"
The Darkness In-between Us
xXx
"Baby I'm thinking it over
What if the way we started made it something cursed from the start?
What if it only gets colder?
Would you still wrap me up and tell me that you think this was smart?
'Cause lately I've been scared of even thinking 'bout where we are"
Ichigo's eyes struggled to open, the weight of sleep trying to drag him down. As he transitioned into wakefulness, the first thing he noticed was the sun peeking over the tip of a blooming winter sakura like the crowning head of a newborn. However, it was the aroma of sakura wrapping him up like strong arms that drew his attention. The warm pressure, almost tangible, was a comfort he wanted to burrow into. It reminded him of home, a safe serenity.
He felt feathery fingers wandering over his back, drawing thoughtless patterns, and his whole body sighed into the sensation of hands touching him with the sole purpose of just feeling his skin. Now fully awake, he shifted, his lidded eyes searching. Tucked under his chin was a head of raven, the owner of which was breathing hot air into the hollow between his collar bones. Byakuya mumbled, making soft little snoring sounds, and before Ichigo could recall how he got into this situation, his body was challenging his good sense, making a hot, gooey mess of his insides.
He ran a hand up Byakuya's arm and caressed his sleep tousled hair as he revisited last night. After a whole day of division duties and gala preparations, Ichigo had come to check on Byakuya. When he arrived, the noble was sleeping again. Isane said that it was normal to sleep a lot after sustaining a severe head injury, explaining that his brain was still healing. So he sat in a chair, content with listening to the steady give and take of Byakuya's lungs.
After sometime, the noble woke up and told him to leave so he could sleep in a bed. Ichigo insisted on staying, so Byakuya said, if he was going to be stubborn, then he insisted they share his bed. It wasn't the first time they did. Well, it was the first sober time, but Ichigo told himself it wasn't a big deal. Although his blushing cheeks seemed to disagree, and when they woke up like this, with meshed limbs and commingled morning breath, Ichigo knew they hadn't been wrong. He was just glad that his hands had been obedient, because most times, his body felt more ready than his mind.
Something about waking up beside someone else was so domestic, bizarre in both good and bad ways. Even though he grew up with a relatively typical home life, there was something frighteningly "normal" about this, but not the normal Ichigo was use to. He had to wonder if he could really have something like this for more than a moment. He wondered if he could have a life where the biggest problem on any given morning was how to move from the bed without disturbing his partner. He wondered if he could have a life where the threats to his world only existed in nightmares left over from the war. He had to wonder if a world existed where he could wake up to find that he was the one being protected by the hold of another.
Ichigo could feel the alarms ringing in the back of his throat and in the tip of his head, alarms telling him he couldn't keep this, not for long anyway, and maybe the alarms were right. Maybe Ichigo wasn't meant to have a life full of blissful simplicities. Maybe there was a time where he could've, but there were somethings you just couldn't figure out how to come back from.
Ichigo realized that sometimes moments were all you get to keep, so he enjoyed this one before it was lost to next, whatever that one might bring.
Soon he brushed over the glimpse of ear that poked through Byakuya's hair and whispered against it, "Byakuya, we need to wake up."
xXx
Ichigo stood in front of a full length mirror regarding himself. He'd never been particularly focused on his looks, because while he had enough confidence and self awareness to understand that he was at least a mildly attractive man, something as inconsistent as appearances never really earned his concern. However, draped in a custom made yukata, for the first time since the war, Ichigo's felt flattered by his own attention.
The yukata was, of course, a gift from Byakuya. Ichigo now had his own clothes, but nothing nearly nice enough for the gala. So the noble insisted on having something made, but he hadn't expected something so extraordinary.
It was navy blue, almost midnight hued, and it clung in all the places it should and dropped in none of the places it shouldn't. Added with the way orange and reds flickered from edge of the hem and up the fabric, he looked like a night sky soaked in flames.
It looked as if it had been made with just him in mind, as if it wouldn't look the same on anyone else. Him and the garment enhanced each other perfectly.
He fiddled with the phoenix embellished clasp as his mind drifted. That was until there was a knock on the door.
"Come in, Byakuya."
The noble entered, Artemis at his side. Through the reflection of the mirror, Ichigo saw that the canine was wearing a wreath of winter tsubaki, wagging her tail happily. Surely this was Byakuya's doing. He was both the most ridiculous yet the most serious man Ichigo had ever met, but there was always something very appealing in those conflicting parts of him.
His gaze reverted to Byakuya, only now he was more than looking at him. He was examining.
The noble wore a black silk kimono with slender dragon designs meandering through gold encrusted red and purple floral patterns that embellished the sleeves. The lofty garment made him look broader, stiffer, and as large as he really was, as imposing as Ichigo often forgot he was. Ironically, the overbearing nature of Byakuya's social caliber that Ichigo use to not understand, if not disdained, was now a part of what he loved about him. He loved how Byakuya all too often willingly sacrificed himself for the sake of his clan and their greater influence. He loved how his desires as a noble and his desires as just a man often differed, and yet he fought that war valiantly. He loved how he looked born to wear that kimono, as if it was an extra layer of skin, just as much as he looked born to wear a light yukata, bare toes and loose hair lazily minding the sun.
But Ichigo knew all the things that kimono symbolized and the expectations that came with it. He knew the type of man it took to wear something so heavy, the grit of his backbone. He knew the burden Byakuya felt dressed in this thick skin, how it eroded the him underneath. He knew Byakuya needed to undress from that weight at times and let the raw and often neglected part of himself breath, but even so, he also knew one could not exist without the other. They were both layers of him. He would always keep that kimono and the expectations that came with it. He would always belong to something bigger than Ichigo.
That was something he hadn't fully realized until he put Byakuya in danger with his family.
It wasn't as if Ichigo knew nothing of expectations. He often felt obligated to fit into the contrived image of the 'Savior', but even so, those expectations were abstract, if not at times self imposed, but for Byakuya, they were his birthright. They not only upheld a lineage that gave life to every experience that made Byakuya who he was, but also a social order, influence, and the protection of power. If they were to become lovers, partners, the expectations for their relationship and the expectation of his position would conflict, and Byakuya would be the one left to clean up the aftermath.
"You're bringing Artemis?" he asked
"Of course. She is my sight hound."
Ichigo snorted. "She's a hunting dog, a blind one. Not you're seeing eye dog."
The noble moved deeper into the room, the natural sway of his arms as genteel as ever. He declined his head as if to agree and said, "They do not know this."
Ichigo combed through his hair with his abrasive fingers, smirking at the stately man in the mirror. "Watch out, Byakuya, you're becoming more rebellious than me."
The noble's eyes shifted to the side, as if wanting to roll, and Ichigo thought, 'There he is, my Byakuya.' His Byakuya whose shoulders held themselves just a bit lower, who's face couldn't hold still from the occasional fleeting smirk, whose tongue was teeming with quick wit. That was just apart of Byakuya, but it was the part that belonged only to him.
"Until I storm an unfamiliar society and incite anarchy, I believe you are still the crowning champion in that regard."
Ichigo's attention was diverted at the sound of Artemis tugging at her harness, whimpering in his direction. He smiled down at the canine before kneeling and rubbing her snout. "Nice flower necklace, by the way," he said, grinning, "make it yourself, Byakuya?"
"It is a flower wreath, actually, and yes, I did. Accessories are the most important part of any outfit."
That's when Ichigo noticed Artemis's harness was overlaid with a beautifully engraved wooden chest piece. He stood, saying, "You really go all out, huh?"
"Of course," he said moving closer as he removed a folded up piece of fabric from the fold of his garment. "Speaking of which, I had this made for you."
Ichigo netted his brow at the unidentifiable bronze hued fabric as he reached out for it, but Byakuya was already unfolding it and moving towards him. He stopped and stood within Ichigo's breathing space and looped what Ichigo now realized was a scarf around his neck.
"It is a Kuchiki clan tradition to ofter a scarf to only our closest allies," he explained in his monotonous way as he adjusted the accessory. Ichigo was trying to follow along, but he was much more interested in the way Byakuya's pleasantly curved lips moved than what was coming out of them. There was a world of happiness in the way they quirked at the edges, and he had the immense urge to lean in and taste that contentment. "So when you wear this tonight, there will be no doubt who I stand by."
The possible double meaning of the words dripped from Ichigo's head. They caught in his lashes and dripped into his eyes, glazing his vision.
'...there will be no doubt who I stand by.' Something about that sounded as if it belonged in his ears, like a song he wanted to hear over and over.
Ichigo turned towards the mirror, eyeing the silk scarf wrapped around him in a purposefully disheveled manner. He lifted his fingers to brush against the fabric that both warmed his neck with sentiment and bloated it with guilt. It was smothering.
"Byakuya...this is...beautiful. Is it the same as yours?"
"Yes," the noble said, still picking at the scarf. "It was handcrafted by the same weaver and all."
"Byakuya! I-I can't own something so expensive!"
"You can, and you do."
"But aren't these scarves worth the price of ten mansion or something like that?"
"And that garment you wear is worth seven," Byakuya commented, pausing in his preening. "Your point?"
Ichigo gaped over his shoulder and attempted to turn towards Byakuya, but he was steered back towards the mirror.
"You won't get in trouble with your clan for spending money like that?"
Byakuya shook his head and went back to his adjusting. "This is well within my allotted funds for personal spending, which I am allowed to use as I please. There are few materialistic items that I need, so why not use it to show my affection?"
The inception of dissent writhing on Ichigo's tongue had nowhere to go. At the noble's words, it became hot air that ballooned in his throat, bursting with love.
"Now, will you stop fidgeting so I may finish?" The noble asked, determination pulling at his brow.
Ichigo looked up to the noble, and his eyes crinkled in endearment. "You're ridiculous."
Byakuya's nimble fingers stopped in their priming to rest on the fabric. His eyes turned magenta, the only sign that he was embarrassed. "Well, you are rude. It is very bad manners to decline a gif-"
"I didn't mean it as a bad thing, Byakuya," Ichigo said, twisting his neck as he placed a hand over the one that sat atop his shoulder. "You're really into this, right? The whole dressing others up. It reminds me of something Yuzu would try to do to Karin. Kind've sweet."
He tried to keep a teasing inflection out of his voice. Words like sweet and other sentimental phrases were something he typically only said for Byakuya, but even then, it was often masked by layers of taunting sarcasm.
Byakuya lightly squeezed his shoulders and hummed in consideration. "I suppose. I did not have any siblings growing up, so yes," he admitted, "you could say I am enjoying doing some of the things I never have."
Ichigo turned, a pair of hands connected between them. "This is really something else you had made," he said softly. "You must've really took into consideration what would look good on me. Thank you."
"It was my pleasure," Byakuya said, matching the tenderness of Ichigo's voice. "I am sure you look magnificent."
For a moment, they stood silently, their mutual affection flowing in and around them like an electric current, mini shock waves igniting in their touching fingertips. Finally, Ichigo let out a nervous laugh and said, "Let's hope the council thinks so. You don't think I'll stand out too much, right?"
Byakuya smirked a bit and said, "I think you could be wearing the most drab yukata ever crafted and still be the most bewitching person in the room, but why would you want anything else?" The noble's fingers drifted along with a creeping want, brushing up Ichigo's arm, braving miles of uncharted skin, and Ichigo was stuck between sinking into or tensing up at the touch. All he knew was, he didn't want Byakuya to stop. "You are a constant fire that does not dwindle nor destroy, but lights up the garment only highlights that."
Ichigo had never learned how to accept compliments. Apart of him felt undeserving. So with his free hand, he anxiously plucked at the clasp. "What about the ho-ho? What's that about?"
"You must know of the folklore. The ho-ho represents the coming of a new era, the sun, justice. He has been beaten many times and rarely appears, but he always come again, and when he does, the masses rejoice." He smirked. "Sound familiar?"
Eyeing Byakuya's kimono, he lifted his hand and tentatively traced the dragon pattern. "And what does the ryu represent about you, Byakuya?"
"Ah, ryu were malevolent guardians of the shinto shrines, born with wealth, status, and virtue. You tell me?"
Ichigo smirked, echoing Byakuya's words. "Sounds familiar."
"And that almost sounds like a compliment."
The hand lingering near Byakuya's shoulder trailed up to grip his neck. "Hey," he said, stepping closer, "I have a sweet side too. I'm not all insults and scowls."
Byakuya placed a hand on his side and pulled him closer. Ichigo stopped breathing, scared it would speed up the moment. "If you are not careful, I could get use to such treatment." They joined foreheads, and Byakuya closed his eyes, looking almost in pain. "I am a disciplined man," Byakuya said, voice sounding parched, "but not touching you in the way I desire takes all of my will power."
"How do you think I feel?" Ichigo asked, lips twitching in a mixture of amusement and longing. "At least you have discipline going for you. I have, like, zero impulse control."
Ichigo watched as Byakuya's tongue swiped across the inner part of his slightly parted lips, lips so perfectly round and lax whenever around him, and he had to wonder if Byakuya had any idea how unintentionally beautiful he was.
"Did you know that the ryu and the ho-ho are considered mortal enemy's?" Byakuya asked, his perfect lips tugging in amusement.
Ichigo blinked repeatedly, grip tightening, and thoughtlessly, he blurted, "Or lovers."
From brow to lip, Byakuya's face went slack, a color as pink and fleeting as sakura flourishing in his now opened eyes. "Yes," he affirmed, "when seen together, they represent destruction or marital bliss...They could never be anything in between."
Something in Ichigo loved this, loved when their frivolous conversations led them somewhere only they existed, somewhere only they knew. He wanted to stay in that place, build a home in it, but something else made his feet waver between action and indecisiveness.
Byakuya must've sensed this in the way his grasp faltered because he withdrew his touch and stepped back, hands folded neatly behind his back. "We should take our leave."
"Yeah," Ichigo said. "Let's go."
xXx
The first part of the evening was underway, and Ichigo was already thrumming with a budding impulsiveness. Every fake smile, every tactfully enthusiastic person to engage him in a conversation, it added another stone to the bolder of tension chafing at his spent nerves. But all of these were trivial aggravation compared to watching Byakuya be dragged about, shown off like some prize pig.
The pair took no more than three steps into the hall before Byakuya was ushered away by an elder to meet potential wives. One after one, noble women lined up to be spun in Byakuya's arms. It was machine like, the way he did the same moves again and again, only the partners changing, and Ichigo was amazed at how he could perform such a robotic act with such fluidity. Byakuya radiated with a natural rhythm and flow, but Ichigo knew that this was just one more lesson he had been taught, not out of personal enjoyment but out of some perceived necessity, and Ichigo wondered that if it was just them alone on the dance floor, how would he move then. Would he even like dancing at all?
An ugly sensation of jealously swelled inside of him like the start of a deadly allergic reaction, and to abate the feeling, he told himself Byakuya was just dancing with the darkness in this endless waltz, but it didn't help. It didn't help because it wasn't Byakuya's attention that they had that he didn't, but the circumstances to make it all so easy. They were regal woman, and because of those two inescapably predetermined factors, women, who probably didn't even desire an arranged marriage, could be with Byakuya without consequences, without worrying about putting him at odds with his family.
Only, to give freedom to one part is to smother another. They wouldn't cause him trouble, but Ichigo knew apart of Byakuya liked trouble, needed trouble, and that part wouldn't survive forced nuptials to the perfect clan wife.
xXx
Byakuya concealed yet another sigh as he said his farewells to his fifth dance partner of the evening. All the women were flawlessly nice, but that was the problem. They were too nice.
They were all reserved with a layer of contrived decorum, maneuvering through demurely spoken, hand arranged topics of conversation, all perfectly tactful and very, very empty. He couldn't differentiate from one to the other, their names spinning into an obscurity of repetitive dance moves and bland colloquy.
It wasn't their fault, and surely, he was exhibiting the same behavior that he was condemning, but that was the point. How could any two people whom had this type of imposing upbringing grow to know each other beyond these manufactured absolutes, especially surrounded by all these expectant bystanders?
'Master, do you realize what you're doing?'
'What is that, Senbonzakura?'
'You're actually considering potential wives.'
Byakuya paused, ingesting the words.
'Well, of course. I have to be prepared for any outcome. Ichigo has made clear that he is not sure of what exist between us.'
'Is that logic speaking or your own insecurities?'
Before Byakuya could respond, an attendant cleared his throat. He reflexively picked up on the cue and extended his hand.
"I present Lady Shihouin Bō-hime."
The noblewoman placed her callused fingers in Byakuya's hand with a sigh. "It is just Bō, actually. Shihouin Bō."
'A Shihouin... Well, I suppose it would be unfair to judge her based upon that Werecat.'
The two fell into an easy tobu hebi, and Byakuya immediately noticed that the woman had the most interesting aroma.
"You smell of antirrhinum majus."
"My, what a refined sense of smell, Lord Kuchiki," she said with a teasing inflection to her voice. "Could you also tell me what I had for dinner?"
Byakuya almost fumbled at the words. Taunts were unusual from the noblewoman Byakuya had encountered. Although, this was a Shihouin he was dealing with.
"I'm a seasoned horticulturist. Therefore, I'm familiar with the scent."
"Ah, well, my Haha has an interest in horticulture also. So I grew up helping her tend to her garden, and I took up making perfumes from her harvest."
"I see."
"She once told me that, because of the way they resemble skulls once they've gone to seed, antirrhinum majus are believed to ward off evil spirits. Although," she said with a faint laugh, "I believe the only thing they scared off were the birds in our garden."
Byakuya hummed lightly with a nod. "If it is not too intrusive, may I know why you reject the hime at the end of your name?"
"Because my name is Bō. That is what my Otōsan named me. However, my Haha added the hime on after he died so that it would sound more feminine. What would be people think if I had a masculine sounding name," she remarked dryly, "The horror!"
Byakuya huffed humorously, his brows perking. "Perhaps they would think you are unique. The name is quite… antique."
"Is that you're polite way of saying my name is outdated, Lord Kuchiki?"
"I would never do such a thing," he deadpanned, pursuing his lips to hide their amused flickering.
Bō filled the space between them with frothing laughter as Byakuya lead them into another step sequence. "My Otōsan was an enthusiast of all things antiquated. He thought the arrival of computers in Seireitei was the first signs of the apocalypse."
"So naming you was an act of rebellion, yes?"
"Yes, in a way. I am sure you know all about this, Lord Kuchiki."
"And why do you say that?"
"You're curriculum vitae is no mystery. Husband and brother of a commoner, defier of the council."
"I see the gossip mill is still running sufficiently.
"Oh do not be so sour, Lord Kuchiki," she reprimanded teasingly. "It is human nature to observe interesting things. You are one of the most influential men in the room and one of the most interesting, both of which have a common denominator. You would expect a man of your status and enduring class to be obedient, but it is that strength that makes you a man capable of necessary rebellion."
"Are you attempting to flatter me, Lady Shihouin?"
"I would never do such a thing," she said, mimicking his earlier words. "Just speaking bluntly. I know that women are lining up to sing your praises, and I am sure that gets old."
"It is, at times, tiring."
"Then I promise to never praise you, Lord Kuchiki."
The song was nearing an end, and Byakuya found himself genuinely enjoying someone's company for the first time since the gala began.
"Lord Kuchiki," she asked, "is tobu hebi the only ballroom dance you're proficient in?"
"Of course not."
"Ryū no odori?"
"...Yes, but-"
"You wouldn't deny a lady of her request, nei?" She asked, stepping closer. "Unless, of course, you are not as quick on your feet as you are with your sword."
Byakuya thought for a moment before removing his haori and calling out for an attendant. "No, I am not," he rebutted. "I am quicker."
The attendant walked over and greeted him. Byakuya handed him his haori and said, "Tell the orchestra to play something at 62 measure per minute. Lady Shihouin and I will be performing the Ryū no odori."
When the attendant quickly walked away, Bō said, "People will stare."
"I am use to being stared at."
"Ah, handsome and arrogant."
"I did not say I enjoy being stared at. I am simply stating a fact."
"Well," she said, taking up a new dancing stance, "If they must stare, let's give them something worth staring at."
xXx
Ichigo looked down at Artemis who was nestled into the side of his yukata, seeming hopelessly abandoned.
"It looks like we were both stood up, huh?" he said, bending at the knees to pet the canine. "Byakuya be here if he could."
He looked up to see the noble dancing with another woman. She looked almost familiar, only not really at the same time. Her skin was the shade of sandcastles and her long ringlets were coral like the sky that shadowed them. With specks of gold and green filling in the lines of her hazel eyes, she was unexpectedly stunning.
She matched Byakuya's moves in a coy way that said she knew what she wanted, head just slightly dipped, lips careening and feet carried by the force of confidence, she seemed like the type of woman who'd seen more than most.
On the other side of this dance, Byakuya wore a subtle expression of intrigue as he spoke more words to this woman than any of the others combined. The whole sight was a burden on his eyes, one he didn't know what to do with.
All humans have the capability of being selfish, even a savior. Especially a savior. Ichigo knew it was wrong, but he wanted to take all the things about Byakuya that no one else ever got close enough to see and lock them away, put them in a place where only he was allowed access, reserved and special, because if he did, he could justify being with Byakuya despite the problems it would inevitably cause the noble. He could say that only he had the key to these precious parts of Byakuya, and if not together, they'd be lost forever, but maybe these were just the lies he told himself. Maybe there was a person who could both see true these often hidden parts of Byakuya while not compromising the noble in him, and maybe Byakuya was starting to realize that too.
"Kurosaki-san, how nice it is that you're here this evening."
Ichigo turned to see a tall man with a slender build.
"Uchi! What are you doing here?"
"I am a noble, of course," he said with a tiny smirk, placing the tips of his spread fingers against his chest. "I am not from one of the lustrous four houses as Lord Kuchiki is, but a nobleman all the same."
"Oh, I didn't realize."
"I was hoping to speak with Lord Kuchiki, but it seems his clan is preoccupying him tonight."
"Yeah," he said, trying to keep a bitter edge out of his voice, "duty calls."
"That's fine. I wanted to speak to you also," he said, combing stray strand of silver out of his eyes that looked as if they might have been brighter years ago. "You and that scarf have been the talk of the evening."
Ichigo plucked at the fabric, his brows bunching in confusion. "It's nice and all, but I don't really see why it's worth gossiping about."
"It's not about the scarf itself but the meaning behind it," Uchi explained, "It is a courting scarf, you know?"
Ichigo coughed on a particular big breath, eyes bulging and hands flying in a frenzy. "What?!" He managed between mini gasps, only to hear Uchi's chirpy laughter.
"Oh, its times like these I wish I could still see," he explained as he cradled his stomach that convulsed in an aching delight. "I was simply teasing you. Kuchiki's give hairpieces to there betrothed, one piece while courting and another on their wedding day."
"That's not funny," Ichigo huffed, blowing out fumes of his damped outrage. "Especially with Byakuya over there dancing with potential wives."
Uchi hummed in his unreadable way, fingers hugging each other and chest high. "Lord Kuchiki holds a potion high above most, and that responsibility will transfer onto whoever stands by his side."
His sentence coiled tightly against a wound left untreated, stinging with importance, and something told Ichigo that he should cling to each word. He tugged at his yukata in an odd anticipation and waited for Uchi to continue.
"You two finally realized your feelings towards each other, yes?" He asked, all other sounds dimming at the arrival of that simple question.
"...Yes."
Uchi nodded as if he understood, and Ichigo wondered how Uchi could comprehend something he himself did not.
"He's the leader of the most influential clan in this world and a soon to be father. More than anything, he his a magnificent man with shoulders that can carry anything put upon them." He paused, pointing his chin, and even wearing an empty glare that met nothing but a dark symphony of shuffling feet, even while facing away, Ichigo could feel those sightless eyes touching him all over. "He needs a partner willing to share that burden, or no partner at all. Do you understand?"
"Yeah, I do."
And he did. Sometimes he thought that was the only thing he understood.
Suddenly the music changed from a somber melody to something thicker, lively with Latin influences. It was a sound meant to seduce the senses, open them up with its spicy undertones.
Byakuya's partner did not change, but only the way they moved their bodies. They were closer, touching parts that didn't belong to each other. Byakuya's hand laid flat on the small of his partners back as he lead her with a pointed fluidity, his legs straight and steadfast like the strut of a man that knew what he desired. They engaged in this mutual push and pull, claiming the dance floor with their rhythmic navigation. Their path was accented by beats of stillness, an intimate lull where she'd draw circles with her feet in the space around them.
"Is someone performing the Ryū no odori?" Uchi asked.
"What's that?"
"It's a form of ballroom dancing that was influenced by what humans call tango. It's so sparsely performed at these functions."
Ichigo looked at the way they moved as a unit, a meshed spiral touching with more certainty than he ever had when putting his hands on Byakuya.
"Yeah, I can see why," he said, catching his anger in the grit of his teeth.
At the sound of an impressed whistle, he looked to his side to see Kyoraku and Jushiro now standing there. "Look at our Kuchiki Taichou go," he said, gesturing to a multitude of new people joining the pair in their dance. "I'd say he's light a fire, dontcha think, Ju?"
The crescent haired man nodded, a pleased smile on his face, but Ichigo couldn't find anything worth smiling about. So he just stood in a casual indifference as his anger attempted to shimmy it's way through the crevices between his teeth.
Jushiro and Kyoraku gave him varying looks of pity, and their quivered chins and canopied brows made it harder to pretend.
"It's just a dance, Ichigo-kun," Jushiro said.
"Yea," Kyoraku added "It may be more sensual than the tobu hebi, but it's still ballroom. Completely appropriate."
"Yeah, thanks. I know that," he said, one loosely bounded nerve holding back a completely indignant response.
"Well, you just seem… a bit upset."
"Why would I be upset? I don't care who Byakuya dances with."
He almost laughed at how awkwardly unconvincing he sounded as the words leaped from his mouth, but at the very least, the two men were kind enough to let him keep the pride his shitty lie upheld.
They were wrong. It was more than just a dance. It was an audition, a selection process that could take Byakuya away from him, and maybe that was for the best.
"You did this," Kyoraku said, placing a hand on Ichigo's shoulder. "You've really brought out something inside of him that I think he even forgot was there."
Ichigo looked at him, blinking, before looking towards Byakuya again. He watched as the woman took his hand. He watched as they stood idle, talking. He watched as they walked away together.
xXx
"You surprised me," Bō said. "You're quite smooth on your feet, Lord Kuchiki."
"For a blind man?"
"You're what?!" she asked, her feigned shock followed up with a girlish chuckle. "I am completely blind sided."
"I am a forgiving man, but such a bad joke is not something so easily looked passed."
She chuckled again and took Byakuya's hand in her own. It was odd, the way her hand felt pressed against his palms thin patch of skin. Her hand was small and yet so brazen, feather weight, slipping into his own with a certainty he'd never experienced. They approached him differently than Ichigo's hands that were heavy with hesitancy, never knowing where to land.
But maybe that's how it was suppose to be. Love isn't something easily carried. Love was more than simplicity and weightless touches.
"Then allow me to make it up to you by stealing you away from the madness."
"How so?"
"Well, as I see it, you have two choices. Continue to dance the night away with noblewoman after noblewoman, or come converse with me on the terrace so that we can become further acquainted."
Byakuya nipped at his lip, contemplating. Truthfully, he would much rather return to Ichigo and Artemis, but Bō was right in his choices. He was obligated to entertain possible wives, but since she was one of those possibilities, it would be acceptable for him to choice to spend his time with her.
Briefly, he considered what Ichigo might be feeling. Certainly he wasn't pleased, spending the night alone while watching Byakuya spin in circles with someone who was not himself, but perhaps this was for the best. Perhaps it would make the situation they were in more real, help him make sense of what he wanted. It sounded harsh, maybe even like an ultimatum, but that wasn't the case. It was just the truth. It was family, duty. It was choices. Byakuya had already made his, and rather these circumstances changed we're now up to Ichigo, but while he decided, Byakuya had to continue living his truth. He just hoped Ichigo could, at least, understand this.
"Very well."
He withdrew his hand and pulled his walking stick from the fold in his kimono. He exchanged some words with a nearby elder before they proceeded towards the terrace.
"Are you a part of the Gotei Thirteen?" Byakuya asked as they stepped through a set of doors to be greeted by chilled winds.
"Yes. I'm a member of the Onmitsukidō. I specialize in deception."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I can tell when someone is lying. Or more accurately, what someone is feeling by their expressions and body language."
Byakuya's cane bumped against a marble column. He put it away and placed a hand against the railing of the overlook.
"That is… curious. It must be both a blessing and a curse."
"You are right. People are often intimidated by it. Most do not want to be read so accurately…" Her sly voiced trailed off, returning as something denser, full of implications. "At times, I do not want to know what everyone is thinking."
"I can imagine it is burdensome."
"It is a burden that I chose."
"I see...Is this the ability of your zanpakuto?"
"No. It's gained through something even more powerful" she said, a smirk in her voice. "Books and education."
Byakuya smiled marginally, enjoying the way she spoke about things. "Ah, a dying method certainly."
"I'll tell you what, Lord Kuchiki. Let's play a game."
"A game?"
"Yes. You seem curious about my skills, and this way, I can both demonstrate them and learn more about you."
"... Alright then."
"Its called two truths and a lie. It is as simple as it sounds, something I use to do for training purposes actually. You tell me two true things about yourself and one lie, and I will tell which one is the lie and how I can tell this."
Byakuya dipped his head, running a thumb over railing. "Alright," he said, "I learned my shunpo from your Itoko, Yoruichi. I can speak three different languages fluently, and… I want to be married."
He wasn't sure why he decided to say a lie so risky. Perhaps it was to stir up the situation, or maybe he was looking for something he wasn't sure of. Either way, it was out there, and amidst her silence, he waited somewhat anxiously.
"... None of them are lies."
Byakuya narrowed his brows in question.
"When you said you wanted to be married, I saw no signs of lying. However, there was a micro expression of… wistfulness, perhaps. If I had to guess, I would say you want marriage, but not an arranged one, yes?"
He dipped his head shamefully as an answer, only to incline it at the feeling of a hand over his.
"You are not the only one."
"You do not want an arranged marriage?"
"Does anyone?"
"I suppose not."
She sighed and removed her hand. "May I be blunt with you?"
"Please."
"We are noble's. Our lives are dictated by obligation. You more than most. So I can say with certainty, none of these women want to be your wife."
Byakuya didn't know how he felt about that. He didn't want to marry any of these woman either, but it still hurt in a sort've distant way.
"It is not because of you yourself. You are handsome, intelligent, and I'm sure you'd make a fine husband, but as I said, among noble's, you are above us all. No one can truly understand the expectations you live with everyday, the sacrifices, the constant watchful eyes. Whoever you're with, to be able to intertwine themselves to that burden, they must be strong and certain. They must be willing to endure what you endure on a daily basis."
The words sat at the bottom of his gut like little sinkers, and he realized that he'd been looking for something he already knew. Ichigo was strong, and in many things, he was certain, but he was still so young, fresh out of war and into adulthood. There were many things he didn't know about himself. So when he said he didn't know what to do with these feelings, it was obvious what he meant.
Ichigo saw the realities of what it meant to be a Kuchiki. He saw the compromises and the sacrifices, the watchful eyes and the constant string of introspective whispers. It was a large feat for anyone to be the partner of someone born of this life, but for a young man who's never had a real relationship, who was still exploring themselves, it must've seemed like a suffocating prospect. Yes, Byakuya knew his truth, and his truth wasn't something many arms could hold. It was selfish of him to even want that for Ichigo, delusional of him to even think he was worth the weight of it all, but he couldn't help wanting to be. God, how he wanted to be.
Bō's hand was on his again, forward and seeking as her thumb caressed his skin.
"I, however, am a strong woman who knows much about endurance."
He wanted to pull away, find himself outside of this sickly haze. He wanted to feel Ichigo's hands, feel them graze against him with certainty, caress away this tar that bubbled in his gut, swallowed him from within, but he knew that when Ichigo touched him, all he would find is affection that just wasn't quite enough, and something about that was more lonely than them not being together at all.
"Byakuya."
At the sound of Ichigo's voice, he yanked his hand away too quickly for it to appear anything but conspicuous. He cleared his throat and said, "Yes, Ichigo?"
"A lot of people are leaving. Their about to start the open forum."
Ichigo's voice sounded dry and far away, bottomless, and Byakuya wanted to banish the sound.
"It would seem our time is up," Bō said. "It has been a pleasure, Lord Kuchiki."
"Likewise, Lady Shihouin."
"Oh, and Lord Kuchiki," she said in a hushed voice, "I am sorry if my advances made you uncomfortable."
"How-"
"I can tell what a person is feeling, remember? Although, one instant is easy to misinterpret, just one piece in a much bigger puzzle. However," she said with a smirk, side glancing at Ichigo, "I think I understand now. Sayonara."
She made a swift exit, leaving behind a throbbing silence. Ichigo walked towards him and placed Artemis's harness in his hand.
"Have fun?" Ichigo asked, his voice teeming with constrained hostility.
"I was not doing this out of fun, Ichigo, but out of duty."
He scoffed in a way Byakuya was familiar with. It was seething, slapping him with ridicule.
"Really? You're elders require you to have private hand holding sessions?"
Byakuya wasn't sure why he should feel bad. It was Ichigo who kept them stagnate, Ichigo who stubbornly stood with one foot on either side of what they were. Did he want Byakuya to stay in that torturous in between with him, pinning for the day he allowed them to leave? Still, despite not knowing why he should feel bad, he did.
"It is not what you're taking it as. Trust me when I say, what you see is hardly ever the full picture."
"Whatever." He turned and walked away, muttering, "Let's get this over with."
Byakuya followed, forcing his body not to drag. He was conscious of every movement, head declined, shoulders bracing his noble blood. He lived his life with this constant self awareness, still counting the beats of his body as if he was just learning to keep pace. It was easier after so many years of practice, but somehow, Ichigo made it difficult to keep with this same rigid rhythm. Only, as forced as it felt, this ultra state of awareness would always be apart of how he guided himself. He could never move with complete freedom, but if he was willing to slow down, he wondered if Ichigo would meet him somewhere in between.
xXx
The hall was now filled with about two dozen people, excluding the Grand Noble Council who were on a platform near the far side of the room, knelt down on zabuton.
Request were categorized by status, so Byakuya knew Ichigo and himself would be called upon first. For this, he was grateful. He agreed with Ichigo's sentiments about wanting to get this over with. The night and the emotions that came with it sat on him like a wet cloak, and at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to take it all off and enjoy the silent serenity of solitude.
The head elder of the council, who was subsequently the Kuchiki clan's head elder, Daichi, called them forward. They exchanged clipped pleasantries before the Kuchiki elder spoke up.
"You two are here to implore the council's backing for the peace keeping laws, yes?"
"Yes," Byakuya said, nodding marginally.
"Well, you may save your arguments. The council has already reach a decision."
Byakuya's chin perked in surprise as Daichi Kuchiki continued.
"After the terrorist attack made by our own Shinigami, we've agreed that, yes, something needs to be done. I speak for all council members when I say that we are all better off when we are in alliance with the Quincy. However," his tone lowered, shaking a bit, "We have a condition."
Ichigo shifted beside him, and he found himself fighting against his fingers need to fidget.
"What condition?" Ichigo asked.
"You two have undertaken this treaty, in many ways, together. Lord Kuchiki went against his clan to support you, Kurosaki Taichi. Even tonight, you wear the scarf of our clan to show your alliance. In this, you've been partners, and therefore, you share the responsibility."
"Okay…"
Daichi cleared his throat and there was a daunting silence that wrecked the air.
"If we agree to back the peace treaty, Lord Kuchiki must pick a wife and be married in four days time."
…
Up next: Following my gut, oceans between us, words we can't take back.
xXx
Tifanny91: It is a pretty creepy situation, but don't worry. It'll come full circle by the end of this all. Well, their on the right track, but the track is full of pot holes. More is still to come. Thank you for your comment, love. xoxo
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siwon611:Thanks for your review! I like mostly male singers also. Who do you like?
Dust-of-Moon: That's very sweet. My goal was to make the whole encounter flow smoothly, so I'm glad you liked it. Enjoy!
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