Year Two: Autumn
The last person Byakuya expects to run into on the street as he exits the boutique is Hisana. His body slams to a stop before his brain can explain why. The ache of his heart, however, cautions him. But, Hisana looks so small and helpless dressed in a threadbare pinkish-gray haori and wheeling a collection of….
He squints.
Boxes?
He squints harder.
Is that kidou?
One.
Two.
Three.
Does she have three kidou spells going? How reckless! He must stop her at once.
"Hisana!"
Startled, she jerks back at the sound of his voice. "Oh!" she gasps, eyes wide with panic. When she sees it's him, her initial panic fades, transforming into a look one might reserve for a long-lost friend. "Lord Kuchiki," she greets warmly.
Byakuya's gaze lowers, and he frowns.
She used to call him Lord Kuchiki when she wanted to pretend that they didn't know one another very well, but, now, all he can hear is yawning distance. "What are—"
"What's in the bag?" she asks, her eyes on the small pink container that dangles from his hand.
His frown deepens. "An item."
"From—" She squints to read the logo. "Apothecary Fukuhara." A grin sets the line of her mouth crooked, and she catches him with an impish look. "Cosmetics, Lord Kuchiki?" She clucks her tongue.
He hands her the bag for inspection and glances away.
"Rouge." Her brows lift, and her grin lengthens. "I wouldn't have figured you for that sort of thing."
She's teasing him. She knows the item isn't for him. It's for Tomoe.
When he doesn't respond, the sparkle in her eyes dims, and she bows her head politely. "She'll like it, I think." Hisana returns the product to the bag.
"I miss you," he says, voice quiet, careful to keep the weight of expectation off it.
He hasn't seen her in weeks. Not since the night she learned of the trial marriage. He has come to the bridge every night since, though. He has waited for her, each time longer than the last. To no avail.
She tips her head back. Her grin is now gone as she considers him. "I miss you, too."
The admission stings. It stings him, and, judging by the little wrinkle that runs across her forehead, it stings her as well. Pain, however, is good, he tells himself. It means there is still life there; there is still a pulse.
Before he can say something in kind, the bubbling of kidou yanks their attention to the white boxes that she's wheeling behind her. Then, he realizes why he stopped her in the first place.
Her recklessness!
"Do you truly have three spells going at once?" he demands more than asks.
"Impressive, eh?" She cocks a brow.
"It's dangerous, Hisana." He gives a small wave of his hand, squelching the spells.
"Hey!" she protests. "They were meant to keep the food warm."
"That's food?"
"Yeah. Take out."
He arches his head to better examine the items in the wagon. Boxes. Dozens of boxes. He even spots a few with logos from his family's businesses plastered to the front of some of them.
"People eat food out of boxes?" How positively barbaric. Worse yet, his family restaurants appear to aid and abet this culinary war crime.
She chortles. "Yes, Lord Kuchiki. The food must be stored somehow when you're taking it to go."
"Won't the food taste like the boxes?"
"Probably." She shrugs. "But, not everyone commands a team of chefs and nutritionists to prepare them food whenever they wish."
"Is this for the local vagrants in connection with one of those food drives that I hear about?"
Laughing, she shakes her head at him. It's one of those slow head shakes that she reserves for when he says something truly out of touch. He even misses those now, too.
"No, Lord Kuchiki. It's for a get-together at the Eighth."
"The Eighth?"
She nods. "I'm a courier for the Eighth's transmittals. After classes, of course."
Oh, yes. He vaguely remembers her mentioning her exploits while ferreting letters for Captain Kyōraku and Lieutenant Ise.
She lets out a sigh and says, "Today Lieutenant Ise is hosting a book club, and the captain thought provisions were in order."
"I take it this was one of those spur-of-the-moment decisions."
"Very. Always." Another sigh. "No one could agree on one restaurant so," she gestures vaguely to the feast assembled in her wagon, "all of the restaurants were on the menu. I needed a way to keep the food warm while I waited on the other food from the five places I visited-"
"Thus, the spells," he concludes.
"Yep." Yet another sigh.
"You could ask for help."
"Help?" She bats her hand at him like she's swatting away a fly. "I'm fin—" Before she can finish, however, one of the containers crumples into itself, which sends several of the boxes sliding to the side. Hisana is quick, though, catching them before they crash to the ground.
Balancing the containers in both arms, she glances up at him wincingly. "Help?"
He smirks at her. "My pleasure."
Together, they walk to the Eighth, Hisana dragging her little wooden wagon behind her and he hugging a mountain of boxes smelling of cooked meats, soy sauce, vegetables, and cardboard. His appetite has never shrunken so fast and so small.
When they arrive, the main office appears abandoned, but sounds of laughter and yelling emanate from one of the side rooms. Byakuya guesses this is where the book club must be taking place, a guess that is shortly confirmed when Hisana leads him to the room and pushes back the door.
"Hisana!" A drunken choir of voices breaks out the moment they see her. "Food!" they cheer.
She and he trade hesitant glances.
"And Lord Kuchiki?" says Lieutenant Matsumoto, who immediately pulls herself to her feet and saunters over to him.
Byakuya braces, well aware of her reputation as an incorrigible flirt.
When he looks to Hisana for cover, she isn't paying him any attention. Instead, she is occupied with helping Ise arrange the food into some pleasing configuration. He wishes he could tell them not to bother since it is all ruined.
"Who invited Lord Kuchiki?" asks Matsumoto, her gaze skirting suggestively to Isshin Shiba.
Byakuya does not miss either of the dark glances that pass between Captains Kyōraku and Ukitake or between Kaien and Miyako.
"I did," says Hisana, gaze tethered to the tens upon tens of little white boxes with various restaurant logos adorning them, all seemingly from his family's businesses. "Sort of. Lord Kuchiki saw me struggling with all of the food and kindly offered his assistance."
"What?" says Miyako with a smirk. "He did?"
Byakuya presses his lips together and lowers his head.
She's really not going to tell this story.
"You know, last winter—"
She's really going to tell this story.
"—I slipped on a patch of ice and fell flat on my face. Lord Kuchiki kindly stepped over me on his way to the Sixth. No offers of help. No assistance is given. Nothing."
Byakuya folds his arms in front of his chest. "What Miyako forgets to mention is that I was reading a book and did not notice her."
Miyako's eye twitches. "You noticed me well enough to step over my body."
"I only noticed a hazard in my way."
"A hazard?" She gapes at him. "You saw me. I saw you see me—"
"Perhaps Lord Kuchiki didn't want to embarrass you," offers Kyōraku with a sly grin.
"Or perhaps Lord Kuchiki is not that kind." Miyako's gaze flits from Hisana—who is trying very hard to ignore them both—to Matsumoto.
Matsumoto lifts her head as if to signal an understanding of something that went unspoken in Miyako's story. Then, she gives Byakuya a big grin. "What's in the bag?"
He glances down at that infernal pink bag. Every bit of him regrets making the purchase, especially since the purpose of the item was to be a slight against Tomoe and her waxen complexion. Had he known this was how he would run into Hisana, he would have saved his captiousness for another occasion.
"Lord Kuchiki was generous enough to carry my bag for me." Hisana tries her best to stifle a grin when Miyako ruffles a little more at the suggestion that he may possess a generous bone in his body. "I bought it using your credit, by the way, Captain Kyōraku. As my gratuity." Hisana glares at the captain.
Kyōraku chuckles and raises his cup of sake. "My line of credit?" he teases. "I used Byakuya's credit for all this."
Byakuya's eyes widen.
How?
"You make things too easy, Byakuya," the captain tuts at him from over his sake bowl.
Hisana.
Of course, the captain would've put together that he has arranged for Hisana to eat without expense at his family's restaurants, which is probably why all the food is from those establishments. To that end, Byakuya isn't sure whether he is more impressed or annoyed that Kyōraku would think to exploit this loophole.
Hisana glances over at Byakuya, brows knit. She's probably put together the truth of the captain's words, but she doesn't understand the how.
A pang of sadness strikes his heart at her confusion, confirming something that he has feared: Hisana doesn't realize he's done this. For her. He has tried multiple times to tell her of the arrangement, but she's never understood him. Perhaps she's incapable of imagining someone offering her something as simple as food without asking for a king's ransom in return.
She still must think she needs him to escort her so that she may eat without cost. So, every time he can't make it to the bridge or she doesn't come….
He glances away from her.
"Don't look so sour, Byakuya. This barely costs your family an hour of work," teases Kaien.
Byakuya glares at Kyōraku, whose attention has drifted to Hisana. The amusement dancing in the captain's eyes, however, promptly dies at whatever he finds in her mien.
Before Byakuya can guess as to the captain's conclusion, his attention is diverted by Matsumoto. The blonde has successfully slipped the strings of the bag from his hand and is fishing inside it, flinging the gift tissue to the floor.
"Rouge!" she chirps and turns to Hisana excitedly.
Hisana acknowledges Matsumoto with a tentative stare. "It's lovely."
"And it's from Apothecary Fukuhara," Matsumoto gushes approvingly before whirling around to Isshin. "You've never given me anything this nice before!"
The captain hides his grin behind his cup. "We aren't romantically entangled," he says slyly.
Matsumoto loosens a small huff before turning back to Hisana. "Oh, c'mere," she says, holding the rouge up to Hisana's face. "Oh, dear, this is all wrong for your skin tone."
Hisana's brows rise. "It is?"
"Yes. Lord Kuchiki, don't you agree?"
Byakuya stiffens a little. If Matsumoto weren't so bubbly and open, he'd be tempted to put her in her place for bothering Hisana, but he doesn't think she means ill by her observation. Nor does it appear to rankle Hisana.
When he doesn't respond, Matsumoto's attention flits to Hisana. "This rouge would only show up if you were sickly pale. You aren't. Your skin tone is very pretty."
"Oh?"
"That is so typical." Irritation flares in Matsumoto's voice. "The store clerks always see the poor Rukon girl as an easy mark for offloading their surplus onto."
Byakuya lifts a brow. "Speaking from experience, Lieutenant?" he asks quietly.
Matsumoto narrows her eyes at him and gives a little growl before returning to Hisana. "You should take it back it. I can help you pick out a better color."
A look of panic sets the lines of Hisana's face aflutter. "I don't think—"
"Oh, come now."
"No, really, Lieutenant-"
"I won't hear any differently."
"I really should be going," says Hisana gently, taking the rouge from the blonde.
"I as well." Byakuya's stare hooks into Hisana.
Maybe the night can be spared yet.
"Oh, no!" Matsumoto sticks out her bottom lip. "You should stay, Lord Kuchiki. It'll be fun."
Before he can object, she grabs him by the sleeve and yanks him toward a small circle of officers, consisting of Kaien, Isshin, and Kyōraku. Helpless, he glances back at Hisana, who looks amused at his plight. He thinks she is about to make her escape when Lieutenant Gin Ichimaru blocks the door.
Hisana flusters at the lieutenant, but they're too far away for Byakuya to hear their exchange.
His gaze shifts to Ukitake, who sits across the room, to intervene, but before the captain can act, Kyōraku says, "Hisana, stay." He jerks his chin in the direction of the food. "Eat. You've earned it."
All the color bleeds out of Hisana's face when she realizes she is trapped. There. With them. Not a peer in sight.
Ise immediately takes Hisana in stride and brings her to where Ukitake and Miyako are seated. Ichimaru squeezes between Hisana and Ise shortly after, and Hisana blanches.
Byakuya moves to stand when Matsumoto chains him to the floor. Her arm wraps around his, and she presses closer. The smell of vanilla and freshly baked sweets clings to her, and the contents of his stomach shift a little. His attempt at escaping her clutches, however, is thwarted when she pulls tighter and presses closer. Her body is warm and inviting in a way that feels calculated. This sets him on edge.
"Do you know how to play?" Kaien's voice snatches his attention. "Byakuya?"
Byakuya glances down to find a strange set of playing cards with symbols that he isn't sure of. "No."
"Oh, I can teach you!" Matsumoto chirps in his ear.
Reflexively, he looks to Hisana, who returns his stare. She seems as uneasy as he feels.
"Byakuya, stop mooning over the academy girl and pay attention," chides Isshin.
Heat stings his cheeks.
He is not mooning. He is concerned. Rightfully so. Hisana is only a student, and she's from Inuzuri. She doesn't know any of the individuals gathered in this room or their histories.
Isshin smirks at him before exchanging a glance with Kyōraku.
"Perhaps I am better suited for the topic that holds their interest," protests Byakuya, turning in the direction of the group being led by Ise.
"The book club?" scoffs Matsumoto.
"You haven't read the book," Kyōraku reasons.
"Perhaps I have."
"It's a murder mystery."
Byakuya frowns, much to Kyōraku's smug satisfaction. It is true. He does not often delve into genre fiction.
"You know what I think Lord Kuchiki needs?" says Matsumoto. "Sake!"
As if by magic, a cup appears before his face. He takes it like medicine, downing it in a single sip.
"Any more reservations you'd like to work through before we begin, Byakuya?" teases Kaien.
Byakuya glowers.
"Good."
The game begins easily enough. Matsumoto plays his hands for the first few rounds. The sake helps. Slightly. Then, after a few more rounds, it helps greatly. Especially when Kaien Shiba decides to ask him about his intentions with Tomoe….
Byakuya barely catches the insolent observation that flies out of the lieutenant's mouth. His attention has drifted to the other party's conversation. The members of the book club are discussing their surprise at the twist ending of whatever piece of drivel they've read.
"The Senator killed his own son!" reveals Miyako. "Isn't that salacious?"
"I was unprepared for that ending," agrees Ukitake.
"I suppose it was hinted at when they couldn't account for the son's hat when considering the other suspect," reasons Nanao.
"—a spring wedding, then is it, Byakuya?"
Byakuya shoots Kaien a withering sidelong glare. "I know of no marriage plans," he says, definitively. "Unless you are speaking of your own, perhaps."
"Kaien would have to propose first," calls Miyako from across the room. Her response elicits raucous guffawing from the captain set.
Kaien shifts uncomfortably as all eyes fly to him. Palming the back of his neck, he comes up with some flimsy excuse, one that Byakuya ignores as he takes this opportunity to glance over at Hisana, who sits quietly, looking devastatingly depleted.
Lieutenant Ichimaru catches Byakuya and leans over to whisper something into Hisana's ear. She blanches and tenses before bowing her head politely and responding to the lieutenant. Whatever she says prompts the lieutenant to chuckle up his sleeve.
"Your decision, Byakuya?" asks Isshin, forcing Byakuya's attention back to the game.
"Raise," he says absently.
A round of groaning commences.
"I'm out," says Kaien, who uses his forfeit as an occasion to trade parties, probably to smooth over whatever damage his inane prattling did in response to Miyako's chiding.
"Same," says Isshin.
Kyōraku mucks his cards as well.
"One more game?" asks Isshin.
"May I join?" To the verbal opposition of no one, Gin Ichimaru squeezes into the space previously occupied by Kaien.
Byakuya frowns.
"I can be the dealer!" chimes Matsumoto the moment Ichimaru settles upon the sitting mat.
Isshin and Kyōraku make space for her to sit between them, and she begins to shuffle and riffle the deck.
A sideways glance reveals that the book club has mostly scattered from their circle. Nanao is speaking with Captain Ukitake, and Kaien and Miyako appear to be playfully teasing one another near the food. Disgust pulls the corners of Byakuya's lips down at the eldritch nightmare heaped on Kaien's plate. Only once the bile churning in his stomach threatens to breach, does Byakuya look away, eyes eager to find Hisana, who is….
Gone.
Concerned, he is just about to peer over his shoulder when the weight of her chin against the slope of his neck freezes him in place. Every single thought in his head scatters. The course of time could have altered, and he would be none the wiser for he is lost. Lost in her. Lost in her fragrance of wild plum blossoms and sake. Lost in the warmth of her body pressed to his. Lost in her presence, which envelops him like the steam from a hot bath.
"Not a bad hand, Lord Kuchiki" she whispers, voice low. The tide of her breath skates across his neck, and it feels like sparks of electricity are shooting down his spine.
"Trust me when I say that Byakuya doesn't need any more luck, Hisana," teases Kyōraku.
"Is that so?" she asks. Byakuya can almost feel the grin lengthening the line of her lips, and he stiffens a little, pulse pounding in his throat.
"You know, Shunsui," says Isshin with a wolfish smirk, "I think I like Hisana right where she is. Distracting the competition."
Byakuya hasn't it in him to protest this conclusion. He agrees. She is distracting. Wonderfully, perfectly, sensuously distracting. And, he'd rather lose all his winnings than encourage her to leave his side.
"Aw, I don't think that's the case, Captain Shiba. Lord Kuchiki is the picture of stoic reserve." Hisana bats her eyes, a fact that Byakuya is keenly aware of because he can feel the tickle of her lashes as they brush his skin.
"Is that right, Byakuya?" asks Isshin, brows wagging provocatively.
Ignoring Isshin's suggestive glances, Byakuya raises the stakes.
Immediately, Kyōraku tosses his cards face down. "And, I'm out."
Isshin waits until the fourth community card is revealed to fold, which leaves Byakuya and Gin for a potential showdown.
"You should go all in," whispers Hisana upon seeing the final community card. "No way he beats you."
"You sound very confident," Byakuya counters, not quite as certain that his very middling hand is worth staking the entirety of his winnings on.
"I am."
Glimpsing her from the corner of his eye, Byakuya finds Hisana laser-focused on the lieutenant. There is a calm, almost empty quality to her stare, one that would seem predatory if he didn't know her better.
"How about a wager between us?" If possible, Hisana presses even closer, drawing her warmth around him like a silk scarf. "If I'm right, then I get a portion of your winnings."
"And if you're wrong?"
"I will submit to any demand you make of me for an entire night."
He pushes all of his winnings into the pot without a second thought or an ounce of regret.
Ichimaru calls and goes all in with considerably less kan.
When the hands are revealed, Hisana reaches over Byakuya's shoulder and collects a small fraction of his winnings as recompense. "You're welcome," she whispers teasingly.
Byakuya glances down at the cards. His two nines beat Ichimaru's pair of threes. Before Hisana can pull away, he catches her sleeve.
"My lord," she says, head tilted, eyes fastened to him.
"How did you...?" he asks.
She grins wryly and arches her head close to his. "The lieutenant appears partial to bluffing, and Captain Kyōraku is a terrible cheat who marks his sets of playing cards."
His brows fly up, and he stares at her in disbelief. "What?"
Hisana grins and nods.
Kyōraku.
Byakuya is half-tempted to inquire as to how Hisana knows this trick, but he is fairly certain that he will not like the answer. And, so, instead, he decides to gaze longingly into her face, an act that brings a lovely blush to her cheeks.
"Lord Byakuya," she half-protests his flagrancy.
"No one is paying attention," he murmurs.
Indeed, everyone is "a tad" to "roaringly" inebriated and, as is typical among the witless, are completely self-involved and preoccupied with their own aims.
"Thank you for staying, Lord Byakuya," she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Hisana only plays with her hair when she's nervous. Which means….
Byakuya's brows knit together at the realization that he possesses the power to make her nervous. What a delightful discovery, one that he must capitalize on and quickly.
"Would you like a drink?" he asks, and, before she can say 'no,' he fills a sake bowl and stuffs it in her hands.
She chuckles lightly and takes a sip. "Do I seem that anxious?"
"Yes," he says matter-of-factly.
She smiles into the bowl. "Would my lord like a drink?"
"Yes."
Kindly, Hisana takes the sake bowl set near his sitting mat, pulls her sleeve back, revealing the creamy expanse of her wrist, and fills the cup.
Before he can thank her, Matsumoto is in the center of the room, voice increasing in volume and arms flailing. She does not stop until almost everyone else has quieted and turned their attention to her. Byakuya, however, takes a sip of sake and ignores the ensuing spectacle so that he may continue to linger on the fine eyes of the face that he admires so much.
He continues to do so until Matsumoto intervenes, sweeping poor Hisana into her performance.
"You've played this game before, right, Hisana?" Matsumoto asks, face lit with the expectation of agreement.
Hisana's eyes go large, and she nods her head sheepishly. "But, I don't think that's the sort of game members of the esteemed Gotei 13 would ever consider—"
"Nonsense! C'mere!" Matsumoto clasps her hand to the top of Hisana's arm and reels her closer. "We can demonstrate what a great idea this game is for our party."
Byakuya watches, alarm bells going off in his head, but, before he can rise to his feet, Matsumoto places a playing card to her lips, and then she angles her head closer to Hisana, as if she means to share a kiss. He stares, heart racing in his chest. Matsumoto can't kiss Hisana, he reasons, because the card is preventing their lips from touching.
Hisana reciprocates Matsumoto's actions: Her head tilts to the side, the column of her throat exposed, her jawline sharp, and she takes the card from the blonde's lips with a skillfulness that brings the heat to Byakuya's face. This heat is quick to spread to his veins before catching like wildfire across his entire being.
This singular act slays what little sense can be found in the room because as soon as Hisana removes the card from her lips, Kaien yanks Miyako into the circle between Hisana and Matsumoto.
Ichimaru is swift to capitalize on the space between Miyako and Matsumoto.
Byakuya does not hesitate to claim his place beside Hisana because, while he feels this game is in terrible taste (the worst taste), he also very much will not allow Hisana to be pestered by the likes of any of the captains in attendance that evening.
Speaking of whom, Captains Ukitake, Kyōraku, and Shiba all exchange glances that range from sobering concern (Ukitake) to amused intrigue (Kyōraku).
Lieutenant Ise, ever a fount of reason, protests, citing a dizzying array of rules, regulations, and protocols that such a game would be in violation of. Everyone else, however, appears too drunk or too self-interested to heed her counsel, and, so, Matsumoto takes the lieutenant and stuffs her into the circle next to Byakuya.
Ise takes one look at Byakuya, and her entire face turns an impressive shade of beet-red.
Byakuya peers down at Hisana, who gazes up at him with an apologetic look. His fingers catch in the fall of her sleeve, and he gives the fabric a little tug.
Once everyone is in position, this very bad idea appears to be off to the races.
"Hisana," says Matsumoto with a giddy look, "you have the card."
Hisana glances down at the card, and she flushes. "Which direction?" she asks, voice soft and mild.
"Start with the person on your right." Matsumoto grins, gaze flitting to Kaien and Miyako, as if she may have spotted two of the weakest links to have ever existed.
Hisana does as instructed and begins with Kaien, who takes the card with swiftness before turning to Miyako. To the surprise of absolutely no one, he drops the card mid-transfer in the most blatant of efforts to force a kiss.
Matsumoto chuckles before disqualifying the two for their failure.
With Kaien and Miyako out, the circle shrinks, and Hisana scoots to Ichimaru's side with marked apprehension. Reflexively, her fingers brush Byakuya's hand. This small intimacy takes place under the cover of their sleeves. Her little finger then loops around his loosely as they wait for the game to begin again.
Miyako hands Ichimaru the card. He eagerly places the card to his lips and leans down to pass it to Matsumoto, which he does with quick proficiency. Matsumoto turns to Isshin, who immediately and intentionally fumbles the card. Instead of kissing Matsumoto, however, he slams mouth-first into the cover of the book that had been the topic of discussion for the book club.
"Out!" she says, stabbing her index finger in a direction outside of the circle. "You cannot throw the game, Captain!"
Isshin laughs before handing his card to Captain Ukitake, who does not appear at all comfortable with any of this. The captain takes the card, however, and offers it to Kyōraku. Just as the transfer appears to go without issue, Ukitake drops the card and kisses Kyōraku, who appears only mildly taken aback by this.
When the two break away, Kyōraku grins. "Not bad, Jūshirō."
Ukitake bows his head as if he takes a measure of pride in his prowess. Then, he lifts his head to see past Kyōraku. "You're welcome, Nanao," he says with a wink.
The young lieutenant sinks a little into herself when the freshly disqualified Kyōraku hands her the card and grins, eyes cutting over to Byakuya. "Good luck, little Nanao."
Ise pauses and stares into the card for a long moment before glancing up at Byakuya. When she meets his stare, her cheeks go scarlet, and she bows her head politely. "My sincerest apologies, Lord Kuchiki," she says. A grave look deepens the furrow in her forehead.
Byakuya would find this somewhat amusing if Hisana was not sitting at his side watching. The heightened scrutiny of her presence and the heat of her gaze against his cheek caution him to be gentle with the lieutenant.
Which he is. Carefully, he takes the card from Ise and turns to Hisana. The instant he feels Hisana's lips against the card, his breath goes a little ragged, which causes the card to fall prematurely. Hisana, however, is swift, and catches it, eyes fastened to his as she does so. Her cheeks pinken under the weight of his stare.
Closing her eyes, she pulls away to exchange the card with Ichimaru.
Byakuya looks on, thoughts running liquid and slow in his head.
He is utterly unprepared for what happens next.
It feels like an act of violence when the card slips from between Hisana's and Ichimaru's lips. The kiss that follows isn't so much a kiss as it is a taking, like a snake wrapping its mouth around prey, pouring its venom into its victim's flesh before consuming it whole. As soon as they break away, Ichimaru's smile reappears, and he wipes his mouth with his sleeve.
Byakuya glares at the lieutenant, his fury only stayed by the quiet look of warning that Hisana issues him.
There is still light in her eyes even if it shines in the face of imminent desolation.
This is what draws Byakuya's rage most. It's not so much that Ichimaru claimed a kiss; it's that Hisana's history is fraught with men taking what does not belong to them, a conclusion that Byakuya has only recently drawn after years of surveying the cracks running through her façade.
"Gin," Matsumoto murmurs disapprovingly, her jaw clenched, iron in her gaze.
"The fruit of the Rukon is always the sweetest. I had to take a taste." Ichimaru says the words in his soft, slow Rukon dialect. "I was not disappointed."
Byakuya is ready to lash out at the lieutenant when Matsumoto pulls him into the small circle for another round. "Don't," she warns him under her breath, voice bladed, "for her sake." For emphasis, Matsumoto's eyes dart to Hisana.
Realizing the wisdom of Matsumoto's words, Byakuya obliges. As much as his instincts tell him otherwise, he doesn't follow the line of Matsumoto's stare, knowing that if he did, his pride would demand retribution for the damage that Ichimaru caused.
Grimly, the game continues with Matsumoto passing that infernal card to Nanao, who then gives it to him. When he turns to Matsumoto, he can't say he is surprised when she drops the card and yanks him into a kiss. What he doesn't expect, however, is for her to knock him to the ground.
Dispassionately, he lies there, still and quiet. Matsumoto's body is warm and pleasantly soft against him, and, as much as he tries not to respond to her, he is vaguely aware of the moistness and cloyingly sweet taste of her mouth, especially as she forces herself between his lips. At the first sweep of her tongue, he pushes her back.
She relents without a fight.
As soon as she is off of him, her face brightens with excitement, and she laughs. "I think I caught myself a rich one," she declares with a wolfish grin.
Byakuya doesn't linger too long on that thought as he collects himself. Nor does he pay any mind to the faint sounds of laughter chiming around them. Instead, with the party-goers sufficiently diverted by Matsumoto's antics, Byakuya quietly goes to Hisana, who sits primly, hands tucked in her lap, eyes gazing ahead. She looks poised at first blush. A second glance, however, reveals all the light in her face to be absent, giving her the vacant appearance of a doll staring into the abyss.
Gently, he tugs at the fall of her sleeve. This simple act is enough to bring her back from her thoughts, and she starts with a shudder.
"My lord," she says quietly, relief rinsing the shades of fear from her face, and she eases. Her lips part, and he thinks that she is about to suggest that they make their escape, when she is interrupted.
"Lieutenant Ise is the winner!" announces Matsumoto cheerfully. "As winner, you get to decide what we do next."
"Go home. All of you," says Ise without a moment's hesitation.
Hisana turns to Byakuya. "Will you—"
"I can escort Miss Hisana to the Academy," Ichimaru interrupts, his shadow fanning over them.
"That's not necessary, Gin," Matsumoto swiftly interjects. "The Tenth is so much closer to the Academy than the Fifth."
Hisana gapes. "It's quite alright. I am more than capable of walking home—"
"Lord Kuchiki may accompany us if he wishes," says Matsumoto, tossing him a sultry stare.
Hisana straightens at this. "Of course."
Few words pass between them as they set out. This silence remains, unbroken, as they follow the streets to the Academy.
Only when the Academy is looming over them does Hisana finally pierce the quiet with a resolute, "I can walk myself from here."
Neither Byakuya nor Matsumoto protests this decision. Instead, they stop at the Academy's gate.
Byakuya must stop per the ban.
Matsumoto stops, he suspects, largely because he does.
Dread pierces him as he watches Hisana leave.
He then makes the mistake of glancing down, eyes landing on Matsumoto, and he frowns.
The kiss between Matsumoto and him was….
A thing that happened.
It is the sort of "thing that happened" that Byakuya very much would like to pretend never happened at all. Maybe when he wakes up in the morning, he will more easily convince himself that this was all a very silly dream and nothing more.
Right now, however, he isn't drunk or heady enough to muster the level of delusional disbelief required to will the events of tonight out of existence. Further, Matsumoto is still standing there. Next to him. Not moving away. Which he would like her to do if only to avoid further cementing his reputation as the Ice Prince when he leaves her without a word.
"You love her," says Matsumoto, gaze chained to Hisana's retreating figure.
Is he that obvious?
Probably.
He hasn't really tried to hide his affection for Hisana despite Hisana's myriad attempts at deflection.
"I can tell," says Matsumoto with the sort of heated defensiveness that he usually associates with arguing.
He hasn't disagreed, though. He hasn't even said a word.
Cautiously, he watches Matsumoto. Part of him is curious as to what she is driving at.
"Not many men kiss me and think of another woman. At least, not for long." She lifts her head. Her eyes find him through the nightfall. They gleam with pride as if to declare that her conquests in the bedroom are just as important to her as those on the battlefield.
He looks away, choosing instead to stare into the yawning darkness of the starless sky that hangs overhead.
"Tell her. Hisana likes you, too," she says.
How can she be so sure?
Matsumoto rolls her eyes and chortles. "Men are so stupid about women."
Go on, he practically begs of her with a look.
"After three drinks—which is nothing for a Rukon girl, by the way—she helped you win at cards. That's love."
He blinks.
"What else are you expecting?" she asks, her voice a dark rumbling. "Just tell her, okay? Before it's too late."
And like that—breathless from exasperation— Matsumoto turns away and begins down one of the side streets leading away from the Academy.
Byakuya watches her for a moment. Her strides are even and long. Her short blonde locks bounce, keeping time with each step. There is a vibrancy—a liveliness—to her that is simultaneously grating and intoxicating. And yet….
Despite the confidence with which she holds herself, her words belie a deep vulnerability, one that leads him to the inescapable conclusion that Lieutenant Rangiku Matsumoto is a woman who throws herself at life because she knows that tragedy befalls those who wait until it's too late.
He surmises that she knows this tragedy because she carries its weight all too well.
The next night, Byakuya waits at the bridge. Twilight breaks early, and he stares into the choppy waves below. Sense tells him that Hisana won't come. Not now. Not after that disastrous night.
He should have cast propriety aside and let the card slip. He should have kissed her. He wanted to kiss her, but….
She doesn't make things easy, either, he thinks.
Nor is she easy to read.
Despite what Matsumoto may think.
"Lord Byakuya?"
His head jerks to the side. "Hisana?" He can hardly believe his eyes. "You came?"
She offers him a staid smile and bows her head. "Your gift," she says and hands him the little pink bag. "I was going to return it last night, but when Lieutenant Matsumoto accompanied us, I thought that would look suspicious."
Guilt nearly levels him. She doesn't understand the purpose of the "gift." She doesn't know that it's not meant as a token of his affection for Tomoe. She doesn't know that its sole purpose is to be used as an insult.
"Hisana, you misunderstand."
She tips her head back, confused.
"It's not a gift," he says.
"No?" A small furrow appears between her brows.
"No." He pauses to order his thoughts. "Who makes a gift of self-improvement products?" he asks, rhetorically.
"My lord," she replies, voice low as if she is preparing to give him a hard truth.
"Yes, Hisana?"
"It wouldn't be unreasonable for the lady to draw the conclusion that the item is a proper gift."
"Why is that?"
"It's expensive."
"Not terribly so, not for her."
"And…" her voice trails.
"Yes?"
"… you are…"
"Go on."
"… at times…"
"I'm listening."
"… unintentionally, perhaps…"
"I am unintentionally, what?"
"… quite rude."
He grins at this assessment. "A mistake, then," he says, then steps away to dispose of the infernal pink bag and its contents in a nearby bin.
When he returns, Hisana appears flustered. "I'm sure the lady would've liked the rouge."
"Well, such was not my intention, and I wouldn't want to engender any misunderstandings between us."
"What misunderstanding would that be?"
"That I am in any way partial to the lady."
"My lord."
He won't hear it. "Are you hungry, Hisana?"
She casts him a disapproving look. "No. Captain Kyōraku sent me all the leftovers from the gathering last night."
"Leftovers?" Byakuya frowns at the taste of this word in his mouth. "Of the partially consumed food?"
Hisana smirks. "Yes."
"That food is a day old," he protests.
"I am aware. That's the entire concept behind leftovers."
"That food was ruined before it even reached the party, and he thought it fit to send its remains to you?"
"The food is perfectly edible," she argues.
"Are you certain?"
"I am certain." She laughs. "Although, I wouldn't mind taking a walk."
Byakuya obliges her, and, as is their usual way, she falls back a few paces, not daring to draw to his side until they reach the estate.
The path they take leads them to an inlet of the diverted stream. Water rushes under a small bridge, and Hisana leans forward a little to spot the carp that occasionally flit up to the water's surface.
"I am amazed by how big they are," she says with a smile, a real one, one that shimmers in her eyes.
"They have names."
"My lord teases me."
"No. This is true."
"You've named the carp?" A note of disapproval rings in her voice.
He grins and glances down into the water. Their distorted reflection shines back up at him. "Not me, personally. But, the family has named them."
"Your family names the fish?"
"We have to in order to record their genealogies."
"You have family trees for the fish?"
His grin widens.
"Now, I know you're teasing me."
"No, this is all true. My family is very serious about breeding carp."
"Where are these records, my lord?"
"You want to see proof?" For some reason, he finds it greatly amusing that she is resistant to such an idea.
"Indeed," she says, trying her best to smother a laugh.
"I can arrange for that."
"Who keeps these records?"
"The pisciculturist."
She closes her eyes and draws in a long breath. "That isn't a thing."
"It most certainly is," he chides her.
"I'm also pretty sure that isn't even a word."
"Well, the pisciculturist will be devastated to know that you think his occupation is imaginary."
"What's his name?"
"The pisciculturist?"
"Stop saying that." She chuckles.
"Pisciculturist?" he teases.
"Yes, that word."
"His name is Takaya Hattori. His family has served my family for many long years."
She pauses to consider him. "That's a lovely sentiment, Lord Byakuya. If only Mr. Hattori were real," she says and continues over the bridge.
Byakuya grins. "He is real!"
For a few minutes, they amble down the footpath until they reach a small wooded area.
"It's getting late," says Hisana. "I shouldn't keep you any longer."
"Keep me from what?"
She looks up at him, eyes dark. "From your duties."
"You never—" he stops himself, heart growing heavy.
"Never?" Disbelief threads her voice.
"Never."
"My lord." She pauses. "What about—"
"I have no duty to the lady."
"What about to your family?"
"I have made my wishes known that I will not take her as my wife."
"Is my interference not a—"
"You are not interfering."
"I very much doubt the lady would agree—"
"Hisana," he says, turning to face her on that dusky path. "This will end in a year."
"If I weren't here with you now, where would you be?"
"Studying in my rooms. Alone."
"If I weren't here at all, would your indifference toward her hold?"
"Yes," he says with no question in his mind.
"You know, it took you nearly a year and a murder attempt to warm to me."
Byakuya considers this for a moment. "I was never indifferent to you." He had been greatly interested in her long before she ever knew it. "If you had a title, we would be—" Realizing what he is about to say, he stops short, heart aching in his chest.
"We would be married?" she supplies.
"If you would have me."
Her gaze softens, and she reaches up to pull him into a kiss.
He holds her fast and tight against him, not wanting to let her go. With his hands, his lips, his body, he tries to convince her to stay there, with him, forever.
He, however, does not succeed.
Defeat comes cold and swift when she pulls away. The autumn wind is eager to rush between them, chilling the warmth that once clung. He stands there, breath ragged, hands against her back, reality slowly filtering into his head, past the dreaminess of yearning.
"Tomorrow?" he asks.
She kisses him on the brow. "Tomorrow."