Upon returning to the manor after the latest Kurosaki-Abarai episode, Byakuya found Ginrei and Hisana playing go, the former losing in the way only possible when purposely letting your opponent win. Hisana was none the wiser, but Byakuya frowned at his grandfather.

Ginrei met his eye, and his stooped form folded in on itself as he bowed. "Good afternoon, Byakuya-sama," he said. He looked at the third of his great-granddaughters. "Hisana-chan, what do you say to our guest?"

"I'm gonna win!" Hisana shouted triumphantly, haphazardly slapping a white stone down on the board. Upon noticing the lingering stares from Byakuya and Ginrei, she sat up straighter and bowed to Byakuya. "And good afternoon, Oji-sama."

Byakuya nodded just once at his niece and observed the go board once more. "You've certainly progressed quite far, Hisana-chan…." He stared pointedly at Ginrei.

Ginrei shrugged his agreement. "She's talented, Byakuya-sama. That is all there is to it."

Byakuya rolled his eyes. "Jii-sama," he said, letting authority slip into his voice, "I request a meeting with you later this evening."

Ginrei placed a black stone on the board, and his eyes slid toward Hisana. "Of course," he said.

"I will call on you after dinner," Byakuya answered. He turned back to the game and picked up one of Hisana's stones, offering it to her for her next move. "Hisana-chan, why don't you—"

"Please let me do it, Oji-sama?" she said, her eyes polite yet mildly indignant. "Please?"

Huffing out a short sigh, Byakuya looked once again at Ginrei, all the judgement in the world set on his face.

Naturally, Hisana still won the match, and when she insisted she play Byakuya next, she did not at all understand why she lost.

But after dinner, with Rukia having taken Hisana home (she quietly conveyed that Ichika had left without incident), Ginrei was ready to be called on. He'd even requested tea and poured Byakuya a cup once he entered the room. Byakuya took a sip, but he knew the green tea would do nothing for his rapidly knotting stomach.

Ginrei nodded at his family head and grandson, clearly believing all to be well. "How are Ichika-san and Kurosaki-san?" he asked.

Byakuya sipped his tea to avoid Ginrei's gaze. "Minimal damage to both. But that is not what I mean to discuss, Jii-sama." He steeled himself. "I've decided to personally train a squad member of mine."

"I suppose they are close to Bankai then."

"No…this one's a recent recruit."

"A recruit?"

"Yes…. She shows excellent potential that I wish to help her harness."

His brow furrowing, Ginrei sipped his tea and eyed Byakuya carefully. "What else is there, Byakuya-sama?"

Keeping his eyes down, Byakuya said, "I wish to train her here, Jii-sama. I already told her—"

"You did what?" Ginrei set his cup down not in anger, but confusion. "What about this recruit is so extraordinary that you invited her onto the Kuchiki grounds?"

Byakuya bristled. "I am well within my power to—"

"I don't argue that, but what of your recruit?"

"She shows immense promise in all but sword meditation, and I feel that training her one-on-one will benefit her."

"And this training simply has to occur at the manor?"

"I felt it would limit distraction—"

"Oh, enough of this nonsense, Byakuya-kun," Ginrei said, raising his voice. His eyes narrowed as he stared down his grandson. "I might be old, but I will not have you take me for a fool. You have plenty of squad members who simply 'show immense promise.' Get to the point."

All hopes of dragging out the inevitable were instantly dashed. The only time Ginrei reverted to using the suffix -kun with him was when he had lost his patience, and Byakuya had whittled away plenty of it. "…Her name is Hokutan Tsukiko," he said at last.

Ginrei shifted only slightly, betraying little of his recognition. "So she is a girl from West Rukongai. That still does not say much."

"She has a first name as well, Jii-sama," Byakuya said, forcing himself to meet his grandfather's eyes. "What do the names 'Hokutan' and 'Tsukiko' mean to you? You have my permission to speak of the matter."

Though he was now allowed to speak of an otherwise prohibited matter, Ginrei did not. He appeared to be mulling over his response, chewing each word in his mouth to confirm if it had the right taste. Byakuya eyed him carefully, unsure of what to expect once Ginrei did answer.

Over a minute had passed when Ginrei reached for his tea. He took a sip and savored it before finally uttering just one word: "How?"

Byakuya let out a long sigh, feeling himself deflate with the exhale; perhaps someday it would be easier to explain. But for now, he outlined how Tsukiko had come to join Squad Six and unknowingly reunite with her father, how he did not know his place in her life, how training her was a compromise to that problem, or perhaps an apology. His bringing Tsukiko to the Kuchiki manor was indeed meant to limit her and others' distractions, but only in part: maybe, deep down, he wanted to see if she would remember her first year and a half of life, when this was her home and she knew the love of her mother and her father and her great-grandfather. When she was treasured not just as the heiress to the Kuchiki name, but as his child. Maybe this was his way of sharing with her the life she could rejoin if she wanted, if she was willing to forgive the reason for her removal in the first place.

Ginrei didn't say anything after Byakuya finished. He crossed and uncrossed his arms, gazed out the window, squinted at his grandson, but didn't speak. There was no chewing over his words now.

Upon realizing he would have to make the next move, Byakuya cleared his throat. "Jii-sama," he murmured, "I know this is not an ideal situation by any means, but I hope you will, if not understand, excuse what I have done. I am ready to accept any repercussions as head of the family."

Ginrei did not respond to this. Instead, he asked another question: "Will you tell her?"

Byakuya closed his eyes. "Of course I mean to tell her, but the exact nature of how evades me."

Ginrei sniffed. "It does not surprise me that someone as emotionally inept as you says that."

Byakuya opened his eyes. "Excuse me?"

Ginrei let out a bark of a laugh, though he did not smile. "Byakuya-kun, you tell Tsukiko-chan directly and, yes, gently. You can't sit her in your office and expect an ideal response, nor can you spring it on her."

"But I can't very well change my tone if she thinks I'm her captain and nothing more."

"Then give her time to adjust to the idea of you as more than her captain," Ginrei said, his exasperation near physical. "It was your idea to use these training sessions to help Tsukiko-chan, so use them for all they are worth. Let your guard down a bit—only a bit, Byakuya-kun, don't give me that look—and ease her into knowing you as her captain and her parent."

As much as he hated to admit it, Ginrei was right. Again. He'd shown once more that no matter who held the higher title, Byakuya was still a youth without the wisdom or, frankly, the courage to proceed with life's matters. That required confessing fault, or thinking about himself where so often it was easier not to. Ginrei had no such issue in this regard, and for that reason, Byakuya both admired and resented him, the balance of the two forever shifting.

Byakuya bowed his head at Ginrei, forcing his admiration to eclipse his resentment. "Thank you, Jii-sama," he said. "You turn a foolish man's senseless thoughts into coherent action."

Ginrei returned his grandson and family head's bow. "The pleasure is mine, Byakuya-sama," he said. "Though I have one word of caution."

Byakuya locked eyes with his grandfather.

Ginrei's jaw grew stern. "The Kuchiki clan may not count many Shinigami among its members, but do not for a second think that those unable to read reiatsu will not realize who Hokutan Tsukiko really is." He raised a hand when Byakuya frowned. "With your blessing, I will prevent them from approaching her or revealing the truth, but I can only do so much for a family that has long hoped for a reunion with its heiress, no matter how it once viewed her mother." He gave Byakuya a knowing look. "I am included in their number, Byakuya-sama."

Gratitude touched his chest, though only just.

In silence, grandfather and grandson finished their tea.

Next Tuesday came both too quickly and not fast enough. It was like Byakuya had just finished his conversation with Ginrei when he sensed Tsukiko approaching the front gates of the manor she was born at. Though he hadn't anticipated it, he was not surprised when his heart flooded with confidence. Blood relation aside, he was a captain meeting with a squad member to oversee a weakness of hers, and so a captain he would be.

Byakuya installed himself in the garden for Tsukiko's arrival. He extended his reiatsu further and through it watched her pause at the gates. A guard swiftly secured her, then passed her to a waiting servant, who escorted her to her host. Drawing his reiatsu back in, Byakuya turned as Tsukiko stepped into view and then stopped, her eyes enormous as she took in the garden. She thanked the servant for guiding her, but her gaze remained firmly on the bridge, then the stream, then the summer flowers.

Byakuya agreed it was a sight to take in, but the garden had just started to die. The lavender stalks were still strong, but their purple now covered the ground beneath them. The bellflowers' petals were beginning to sag, and the sunflowers were no longer the vivid hue of sunshine, but the sickly yellow of death. Only the hydrangea bushes remained in bloom, covered as they were in bursts of pink and indigo.

Byakuya strolled over to Tsukiko. "I suppose you've seen nothing like it, with all that staring," he said. His voice was not unkind.

Tsukiko began to shake her head but caught herself. "Good afternoon, Captain," she said with a bow. "Your garden is truly stunning."

Byakuya nodded his acknowledgement. "Your flatter me, though you've arrived late in the summer." He turned and walked to the edge of the stream; soft footsteps behind him assured him Tsukiko was following. "I suggest saving your awe for when the autumn flowers come in."

"Forgive me, Captain Kuchiki," Tsukiko said. "It's just so…stunning."

"Are you brown-nosing, Hokutan?" he said, turning his head.

Tsukiko blushed. "My apologies, Captain," she said.

"Never mind." He gestured beside him, and Tsukiko came to his side. "What advice have you received thus far on meditation?"

Tsukiko shook her head. "Not very much, sir. Lieutenant Abarai said it helps not to think about my Asauchi because it's still just a sword. I should instead think about myself. A friend of mine also said to watch out for a 'pulse' in my heart."

"Is this friend the one who keeps sending me transfer requests?"

Tsukiko smiled apologetically. "Yes sir."

"Hmph." Ignoring the memory of that sobbing mass of curls throwing herself at his feet, Byakuya returned to Renji's advice. It was sound, but wrong.

"While I agree with your friend's comment about a pulse," he began, "Lieutenant Abarai was incorrect to tell you not to think about your Asauchi."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Let us walk." He moved behind Tsukiko and leisurely made for the bridge, and she followed. "During the Quincy war, I was gravely injured and treated at the Soul King's palace. While recovering, I met the Soul King's personal guard, which included a man named Nimaiya Ōetsu. He created the very first Asauchi and thus the first Zanpaku-to. He also inherently knew the names of all Zanpaku-to."

"Inherently?" Tsukiko asked.

"You would have to ask him for details," Byakuya said, "but it's unknown if he survived the war."

"How is it unknown?" Tsukiko asked. "I imagine if Shinigami are still getting Asauchi, he's still alive, but if he isn't—?"

Byakuya paused halfway across the bridge and narrowed his eyes at Tsukiko, instantly silencing her. "Do you wish to learn about the infrastructure of the Soul Society or sword meditation?"

"Sorry, Captain…."

Resuming their walk, Byakuya continued. "After I recovered, I trained with Nimaiya himself, and he informed me that Asauchi are frequently and incorrectly underestimated. Many believe that because they are blank slates, they are weak, and their Shinigami incapable. However, Nimaiya believed Asauchi to be the strongest of all Zanpaku-to because they are blank slates. They represent sheer possibility and the great unknown. Do you understand what that means for you, Hokutan?"

Tsukiko considered the question for a moment. "Does it mean that I need to take my Asauchi more seriously?"

"Precisely," Byakuya said. "Lieutenant Abarai said you should ignore your Asauchi, but that is the exact opposite of what you should do. You imbue your sword with your very essence, so it is heinous to focus only on yourself. Indeed, it is selfish."

"So I should focus on both my sword and myself?" Tsukiko asked.

"I thought that was obvious." Byakuya glanced at Tsukiko, who blushed again. "This leads me to my next point," Byakuya said. "What do you think of when you meditate?"

Tsukiko scrunched up her nose. "That's a little difficult to answer," she said. "I mostly just remind myself to think about meditating and not to fall asleep, but as you've seen, that hasn't been working."

"And why do you think that is?"

"Forgive me, sir, but I truly don't know."

They rounded past a bed of dying irises. "Let me ask you this then: do you think more about your sword or the reminder only to think of your sword?"

Tsukiko's eyes rounded. "Oh…."

Byakuya allowed himself an internal chuckle. "Then that is where we will begin." He brought them over to the stream, almost directly across from where they had started their conversation. "Untie your sword from your side," he instructed, doing the same with Senbonzakura. Tsukiko mirrored him further as he sat cross-legged on the ground, unsheathed Senbonzakura, and laid the sword across his lap.

"Remind yourself only once to think about the sword on your lap," Byakuya said. "From then on, only think about you Asauchi. If you do remind yourself again, acknowledge the thought and move on. It is not your primary focus."

"I will try," Tsukiko said, closing her eyes.

"Make your attempt your reality," Byakuya said, and he too closed his eyes.

After but a few minutes of meditation, he was transported to his internal world. It was a barren meadow large enough to contain two iterations of Senkei Senbonzakura Kageyoshi and surrounded by dense, dark trees. The only light came from a bright moon that changed phases in no apparent order; today it was a waxing gibbous. Byakuya glanced to his left as Senbonzakura stepped into view from among the trees. Ever since training at the Soul King's palace, Senbonzakura had stopped wearing a mask in his inner world, and so Byakuya received his smile in full.

"You're doing very well," Senbonzakura said.

"Of course I am," Byakuya said, gazing up at the moon. "It wouldn't help anyone to give Tsukiko false advice."

Senbonzakura shook his head. "I'm not talking about the advice, Byakuya, though I do commend it." He drew the sword at his side. "Now, you didn't come here just to set an example, yes?"

Byakuya drew his own sword in response, and immediately their blades clashed. The meadow rang with their blows, and the grass at their feet grew trampled as they used the space allotted to them.

No longer able to take advantage of the blind spots caused by Senbonzakura's mask, Byakuya was still working to revise his sparring with his Zanpaku-to. He knew better than to offer full offense in a flurry of sword swings, as that left him too slow should he need to switch to defense, but against Senbonzakura, who knew his style so well, it was extremely difficult to channel the element of surprise. But there was no room for discouragement: if Byakuya could defeat or at least match the very essence of himself, he was prepared for any enemy.

Between matches, Byakuya opened his eyes to observe Tsukiko. He did not disrupt her meditation, wanting to see what she could achieve with just the small bit of instruction he'd given her. Accordingly, he noted just her facial expression, which changed from blatant focus, to frustration, to serenity. With each confirmation, Byakuya withdrew to his inner world and another round of sparring with Senbonzakura.

But after four matches, a low hum rumbled into his inner world and soon shaped into the distinct sound of snoring.

Senbonzakura scoffed and rolled his eyes, sheathing his sword. "So much for progress," he mumbled.

Byakuya too sheathed his sword, though he felt no inconvenience at ending the sparring session. "She's still green. You can hardly expect her to have started sparring as well."

Senbonzakura scoffed once more but bowed as Byakuya closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was back in the garden, facing the sleeping Tsukiko. Sheathing Senbonzakura with a snick, Byakuya announced, "Get up, Hokutan, we're done for today."

Like the week before, Tsukiko awoke with a start. "Oh, dammit, not again!" she said before remembering whose company she was in. "Oh crap—uh, please excuse me, Captain!" She bowed her head.

Blinking but once, Byakuya rose and waited for Tsukiko to do the same. "I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you accomplished even something before your nap," he said.

Tsukiko nodded sheepishly. "I did actually, sir. I didn't see or hear anything, but I felt content."

"Perhaps next time you will find contentment without falling asleep afterward."

Tsukiko blushed but bowed in deference. "Thank you again for taking the time to train me, Captain Kuchiki." She looked around once more at the garden. "Especially in this beautiful place." Her eyes returned to his. "I will do better next time. I swear it."

Byakuya snapped for a servant to see Tsukiko out. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Her face fell into an all too familiar look of stony resilience. "I fully intend to keep this one, Captain."

Byakuya opened his mouth to clip her tenacity, but a quiet reminder from days earlier filled his head. Ease her into knowing you as her captain and her parent, Ginrei's words echoed.

Captain and.

Crossing his arms before him, Byakuya matched the resolute look on his daughter's face. "Your dedication is admirable," he replied. "You might make me proud yet."

The servant arrived then, and with one final bow and the smallest of smiles, Tsukiko left the garden.

A/N: TL;DR Byakuya's still really bad at just doing things.