"Open your eyes, Hokutan," Byakuya said with a sigh.

Tsukiko did as told, and a guilty blush spread across her face. "Yes, Captain?"

A flash of lightning illuminated the room. "You've walked in like a hostage the last two weeks and haven't even pretended to meditate," Byakuya said. A colossal clap of thunder followed the lightning, and Tsukiko flinched at the sound. "And you can't tell me you're truly afraid of thunderstorms," he added.

Tsukiko exhaled slowly. "My apologies, Captain. I…haven't been able to concentrate—"

"For two weeks straight?"

She shifted and shook her head. "I'll take care of it, sir. I won't trouble you any—"

"No, because you're doing a terrible job of 'taking care of it,'" Byakuya said, knowing just how sharp his words were. "Whatever is happening with you is interfering with our lessons, and I would rather not waste my time watching you fail to put in the work I know you are capable of."

Tsukiko visibly withdrew, rebuked.

"I can't help you if something is happening outside my jurisdiction," he continued, "but if what's bothering you is related to meditation or our lessons in general, I would ask you to be honest with me so we can move past this nonsense."

Tsukiko sighed shakily. "Well, um, the day before I…started interrupting our lessons…I was meditating at headquarters. Someone was playing music, but it was actually helping me focus, but then—" She stopped as lightning again brightened the room, another clap of thunder right on its heels. "But then," she repeated, "two things happened." Tsukiko eyed him as if asking for permission to continue.

He stared at her in response.

She swallowed. "I told you that my parents died when I was young, yes? I was actually so young that I don't remember them, or so I thought…. I uncovered something while meditating that day."

Byakuya stiffened. "Is that so?"

"Yes sir. I don't think I was even fully capable of speech…."

As Tsukiko recounted the memory of sitting on his lap, Byakuya's stomach knotted into tight, steely cords. Hearing her describe it reminded him as well of that day, perhaps not clearly, but enough to know that Hisana had already passed, and in an effort to be present for Tsukiko, he was working from his home office. She'd made a game of reaching for his pen, which delighted more than annoyed him. That day he was so sure he could keep both a work and family life, but unfortunately, those few hours of happiness could not compete with reality, especially once his search for Rukia picked up speed.

Byakuya snapped back to the present as Tsukiko told him of the second thing that had happened. "What pulled me out," she said, "was this…shoving sensation. It was exactly like someone had pushed me, but when I opened my eyes, there was no one there. I was completely alone." She looked at him. "Crazy as this sounds, I think it was my Zanpaku-to."

Pushing away his newly rediscovered memory, Byakuya let a thunder and lightning pair pass before responding. "I think it might be safe to say that it was indeed your Zanpaku-to making first contact," he said. "You were deep in thought by that point, yes?"

"I think the deepest I've ever been, sir."

"Then I am doubly certain." Byakuya sat up straighter, ignoring the pull of the cords in his stomach. "But why the hesitation now if you made such progress?"

Tsukiko shook her head. "I know it's not what you want to hear, Captain, but the shoving from nowhere was a bit frightening, and to have that memory thrust upon me…." She breathed out in a long huff. "It was disconcerting, to say the least."

Byakuya nodded. "I understand," he said, "but you can't hesitate like this."

"I know, but—"

"No buts," Byakuya said, forcing himself to trust in his conviction that all was possible (confessing to Tsukiko with minimal fallout, Ichigo and Ichika not killing each other) just as much as he wanted Tsukiko to. "It is natural to be afraid, but if you let fear dictate your life, you have failed yourself." He caught her gaze and held it. "You said it was music that brought you to that state?"

Tsukiko nodded, wariness clouding over her expression.

"Then we shall face your fear head on and recreate that moment." Byakuya snapped his fingers, and a servant slid open the shoji door. "Fetch two rin and mallets for us," he instructed, and the servant bowed her confirmation.

Once the servant closed the door, Tsukiko asked, "Rin, sir?"

"Singing bowls, you may know them as," Byakuya said. "Primarily monks use them as prayer tools, but they are common enough outside of monasteries."

Tsukiko visibly swallowed as another thunder and lightning pair shattered through the room.

"Though," Byakuya said, "I suppose any music could help you in your free time."

"…Do you recommend any particular music, sir?" Tsukiko asked.

Of course his preference was traditional folk or classical, or Paul McCartney, but Byakuya understood he was a minority in that regard. What bands did Renji constantly talk about…something with fire, he knew that much….

I think it was "flames," not "fire," Senbonzakura said.

Right you are. "I suppose it doesn't make a difference," Byakuya said, "but I might recommend In Flames."

Tsukiko's eyebrows shot up to her hairline before her deference wrangled them back down. "In Flames?" she repeated.

"I believe that's their name, yes."

Tsukiko smiled cautiously. "Forgive me, sir, but I never took you for the type to like melodic death metal."

"…Melodic what?"

"Oh, did you not know?" Tsukiko asked.

Byakuya stiffened again, this time out of pretention. "Lieutenant Abarai mentioned their name once. I haven't yet discovered them for myself."

Tsukiko's lips clenched in a clear struggle to hold in her laughter. "I think they might be a little intense for you, sir—"

"Thank you, Hokutan, though I suppose if your Zanpaku-to is so fond of shoving, that melodical metal death or whatever it's called might be an appropriate choice."

Tsukiko snorted as her laughter began to escape, but the loudest crack of thunder yet nearly shook the house and chased her mirth back inside her.

Wiping at her eyes as the thunder died out, Tsukiko said, "I'm sorry, Captain. That wasn't very respectful of me."

"I suppose not, though you have admitted apprehension about meditating," Byakuya said. "I am willing to accept your fragile emotional state as the sole reason behind your outburst."

Tsukiko's face fell at the reminder, and moments later the servant slid the door open and presented the requested rin and mallets before exiting.

One glance at Tsukiko told Byakuya she still had not been reassured, and when more thunder boomed around them, she was back to flinching. "I assume you've never used a rin, if you did not know what one was," Byakuya said, swiftly moving past Tsukiko's anxiety.

"I recognize them now that they're here," Tsukiko answered; her hands clenched her knees. "But might I request a demonstration?"

"You may." Byakuya picked up a mallet and gently set it on the rim of the rin closest to him. "Most run the mallet over the rin so it rings, as it creates a more sustained sound." He did just that, and a soft, then strong note filled the room. Once the ethereal note hit its full volume, he pulled the mallet away, and the note slowly began to fade. "You can also strike it—" He tapped the bowl, and it emitted a less pleasant but not offensive sound— "but I feel the first technique will better suit your needs."

Nodding slowly, Tsukiko picked up the second mallet. Watching Byakuya as if for encouragement, she set the mallet on the rin nearest her and began to circle it around the rim. However, her touch was too light, and the mallet frequently lifted off the rin.

"You must press the mallet against the bowl, Hokutan," Byakuya said. "There is no need to knock it over in the process, but if there is no contact, there is no sound."

Putting his words to action, Tsukiko pressed more firmly against the rin, and the bowl at last began to ring.

Determining there had been enough practice, Byakuya moved his rin and its cushion to his right side, then set Senbonzakura across his lap. Tsukiko did the same with her Asauchi. Once she was settled, Byakuya lifted his mallet once more. "It will take some coordination, but remember not to move the mallet too quickly. You want to create sound, not tire your arm."

Tsukiko nodded and inhaled deeply, her breath shaky.

Speaking in a low voice, Byakuya said, "Whatever you discover or see, it will help you. Fear is an obstacle, not a permanence." He couldn't help but feel that Tsukiko wasn't the only one who could learn from those words.

They closed their eyes.

Slowly, the room filled with two low, ethereal notes as captain and officer, father and daughter, began to meditate. Their faces were blank, smoothed in focus, and their bodies were still save the rotation of their arms around the rin. The higher of the two notes, Tsukiko's, occasionally skipped as she grew used to the movement or reacted to a rumble of distancing thunder, but it found a rhythm steady enough.

Without the need to verbally teach, Byakuya's stomach clenched again. On the one hand, he was thrilled to witness Tsukiko's progress toward her full strength as a Shinigami. On the other, there was no telling what her Zanpaku-to would unearth as it began to stir. Just as it came to guide her, it would hurt her. The term double-edged sword had never had greater meaning.

But whose fault was that?

Ten minutes had passed when the higher rin note skipped and nearly faded, its producer otherwise occupied. Apprehension spiking up from his stomach, Byakuya dared open his eyes and found a look of utter frustration on Tsukiko's face. Her arm reached back down for the rin, but just as it started again, her entire body swayed like an invisible force had thrust itself upon her. It struck each time Tsukiko reached for the rin, and taking the hint better than her, Byakuya pulled his mallet away from his rin. "Come back, Hokutan," he said. "Enough."

After a few seconds, Tsukiko opened her eyes, and the frustration melted away too smoothly for it to have been hers. But just as it relaxed, her face shifted into a peculiar expression.

Byakuya set his mallet down. "You seem to have something to report, Hokutan," he said, his heart beginning to pound.

"Yes, Captain, but I don't quite know how to put it," Tsukiko responded. Her brow now crinkled in concentration. "No memories this time, but I was shoved. A lot."

Byakuya nodded, though something prevented full relief from reaching him at hearing she'd uncovered no further memories. "I saw. Anything else?"

"Yes. I also had…mental sensations? But I also felt them as if they were physical." She shook her head. "Like, I felt happy, but I, Tsukiko, wasn't happy, then yearning, and on and on and on."

He did not relax for a moment. "Did you hear or see anything, even a silhouette or a whisper?"

Tsukiko shook her head. "No sir. It was just the emotions that…weren't really mine. Do you know what they were?" Her eyes sought answers.

At last letting relief flow through him, not as if the danger had passed but like it had only missed him, Byakuya nevertheless did not react right away. Tsukiko had reached a point where only she could determine what the next step might be. No matter the nature of their relationship, it was not Byakuya's place to inform Tsukiko on this matter.

Amusement that wasn't his own filled Byakuya's mind, but Senbonzakura held his tongue.

Byakuya set his sword aside and eyed Tsukiko, who still clearly wanted clarification on what she'd felt. "This is where we will end today, Hokutan," he said.

She started. "But, Captain—"

"It will come to you soon enough." He stood, and she did the same, though her face betrayed her reluctance. As Byakuya stepped out onto the engawa, however, he saw that despite the retreating thunder and lightning, the rain had only transitioned from full, fat drops to fuller, fatter splashes.

Tsukiko joined him at his side, and she sighed. "I suppose I should get going before it worsens," she said.

Byakuya almost agreed when his grandfather's words once again echoed in his head. "Not yet," he said, turning to face Tsukiko.

She looked up at him. "Sir?"

"Hokutan, would you like to join me for tea?"

The look on Tsukiko's face made it seem as though he'd asked her to jump off Sokyoku Hill, but then she bowed her head and said, "Captain, I'd be honored. Thank you."

"It certainly will keep you dry," Byakuya said, moving back into the room and snapping his fingers. In moments a servant arrived, and he instructed her to have tea and refreshment prepared.

Once he and Tsukiko had sat back down to wait, Byakuya moved the rin and mallets to the side. "Overall, did you feel the rin helped today?" he asked.

Tsukiko nodded slowly, revealing some lasting apprehension at the invitation to tea. "Yes sir. It felt easier to fall into the deeper meditation, but I'm still not sure how I feel about my Zanpaku-to shoving me, if I'm honest."

"Understandable," he said, "but the worst thing you can do is ignore it. Remember, you're forging a relationship, even if it's not what you anticipated."

Tsukiko nodded. "Does it at least get more tolerable, sir? I imagine my Zanpaku-to won't want to shove me forever."

Byakuya lightly shook his head. "That I cannot say for certain. Every Shinigami–Zanpaku-to relationship is unique." He watched Tsukiko's face fall. "But that isn't to say the shoving might not prove useful."

"Throwing me off balance is useful?"

"If you need to dodge an opponent's blow, perhaps, but remember I said might, Hokutan," Byakuya said. "Now, I have a question for you."

Tsukiko opened her mouth to respond but stopped when the door slid open, revealing the servant and their tea. Between them, she set down two teacups, a steaming pot of tea, and a small plate of rice crackers. Byakuya and Tsukiko poured each other's tea, gave thanks, and took careful first sips of the hot tea.

Reaching for a cracker, Byakuya said, "My question, if I may?"

Tsukiko nodded. "Yes sir." She too took a cracker and popped it into her mouth.

"I know you said your parents were not Shinigami, but did you have exposure to the Seireitei growing up?"

"Oh, um, well." Tsukiko swallowed the last of the cracker. "Hokutan is a high-enough district that we still had Shinigami monitoring the streets, so I did see one occasionally when my grandmother and I went shopping or out for a walk."

"You had a grandmother?"

"She was technically the neighbor who took me in, so we weren't related, but that's the classic Rukon story: you make your own family." She smiled, though it did not reach her eyes, and she gestured to the plate of crackers. "She liked to tease me about needing to eat. Said if she knew I was going to cost so much she'd have never brought me in—not that she'd ever dream of doing it."

Byakuya took another sip of tea. "You said she died while you were in the Academy, yes?"

Tsukiko nodded. "She caught a cold that never went away, but she was getting older, so I suppose it's not all that surprising."

"That doesn't mean her death was easy to process."

Tsukiko shook her head. "No sir." She glanced at him. "Death isn't a stranger to anyone in the Soul Society, is it?"

"There's a reason this realm is overseen by death gods," Byakuya said.

After a brief pause, Tsukiko said, "Captain, can I ask you something else? You don't have to answer it."

"Go on, Hokutan." Byakuya lifted his cup to his lips.

"…Is it true that you adopted Captain Kuchiki Thirteen because she was Kuchiki Hisana-san's sister?"

Nearly sputtering on his tea, Byakuya quickly set his cup down. The question, while certainly not outrageous, was not one he'd thought Tsukiko might ask, if only because it was now Seireitei canon why Rukia was a Kuchiki. On top of that, he never anticipated Tsukiko saying Hisana's name in any capacity. The double whammy of the question now left him silent, and sensing something was wrong, Tsukiko said, "My apologies, Captain Kuchiki. That was out of—"

"No, I was just forming an answer," Byakuya said. "And while I'm not usually asked that question, I must admit I appreciate you coming to the source rather than depending on rumors."

Tsukiko smiled sheepishly.

"But yes," he continued, "it was my wife's final wish for me to find her sister and adopt her into the family."

Nodding with this answer, Tsukiko asked another question, though her voice was quieter this time. "The rumors also say that Captain Kuchiki Thirteen resembles Kuchiki-san. Is this true as well?"

Without a word or thought, Byakuya reached into his inner pocket. He took out his soul pager, and after typing in his passcode, he scrolled to a screen mostly blank of app logos so it revealed the pager's home screen background: Hisana's professional portrait. With only a moment's hesitation, he handed Tsukiko the pager, threats of her unearthing more memories be damned. This was the girl's mother. Death had separated them for good, but as a death god, it was his responsibility to command death to return even a bit of what it had taken from Tsukiko. And him.

But if Tsukiko remembered anything, her bearing did not betray it. Her fingers were gentle with the pager, and her mouth was quiet as she admired the background. When she kept it longer than the customary few seconds, Byakuya did not mind in the least. She needed time, and time she would have.

Nodding just once, Tsukiko handed back the pager once its screen darkened, and Byakuya returned it to his pocket. In silence, he dared meet Tsukiko's eyes, his own growing heavy with the weight of the history behind them.

"I'm so sorry, Captain," Tsukiko whispered, her eyes glassy.

He swallowed once. "I am also sorry, Tsukiko," he said. About her neighbor turned grandmother. Her parents turned strangers. Everything.

You just said her name, Senbonzakura said, intrigued. And not the family one.

How could I not?

Tsukiko must have agreed, for her only reaction was to take her cup and say, "Do you mind if I make a small toast? I know it's not my place, but I would say something, with your blessing."

He lifted his own cup in response.

Tsukiko brought her cup up to face level with both hands. "To those we love," she said.

He did just the same. "To those we love."

They sipped their tea.

They ate their crackers.

They mourned those they dearly missed.

A/N: While this chapter didn't turn out any way I anticipated it to, it became one of my favorites event-wise. I know I shouldn't have favorites as author, but it's true.