Year One: Autumn
Hisana sobs delicately into her handkerchief. Her chest shakes just enough. The tears that gather in her eyes are restrained but glistening, threatening to fall at any moment. This may be her best work yet.
Spiritual Arts Academy Headmaster Toshiyuki Ito, a middle-aged man with graying temples and sharp patrician angles, stares at her, eyes wide and lips agape. A writing brush is gripped firmly between his fingers, and his hand moves steadily down the page of his ledger.
"So, that's why I had to quit my studies all those years ago," she continues, voice trembling and breaking for intermittent gasps. "This man!" Hisana's head drops low, and her lips press into a tight compact line. "He's the reason for this. If he hadn't broken that vase and caused my mother such grief, she wouldn't have been forced to work herself to death to pay off the debt!"
Captain Kyōraku sits beside her stone-faced except for the amusement dancing in his gray eyes. "It is a debt of honor, truly," he explains. "I had no idea that Hisana's mother was blamed for my breaking of that vase—"
"A centuries-old antique!" cries Hisana.
"A very expensive centuries-old antique," the captain adds thoughtfully. "Accordingly, Hisana was called upon to take care of her mother and provide for her family thus interrupting her studies all those decades ago."
Headmaster Ito's eyes dart between both of them. "I see." Shock continues to build on his face, betraying this sentiment. "Does Hisana have the necessary funds to support herself now?"
"No!" she sniffles. "Are you not hearing me? This man ruined my family's already fraught finances!"
Sucking in his cheeks, Captain Kyōraku lifts his head. "She will work for my squad as a courier. The money that she makes from this job will go to her support at the Academy."
Headmaster Ito's gaze drops to the page. "She will need funds for at least three uniforms before she can enroll. Her room will be paid on a quarterly basis. Board can be ad hoc." He then slides the itemized expenses across his desk for their review.
Hisana nearly faints when she sees the number: 535,800 kan a year. She will be buried at the Eighth if the deal is for her to work off this debt.
She could throttle that stupid black cat that got her into this mess. She had delivered on her end of the deal—stealing that cursed piece of art—only be rewarded not with riches but with this or death.
"I will advance the funds each month," says Captain Kyōraku, "in exchange for Hisana's services to my squad."
She glowers at him through her fake tears. The captain, however, appears unmoved. No luck, she thinks, dropping the heat from her stare and turning to the headmaster. "Is there a chance that I may transfer over the credits that I already have?" A year and a half worth of academic work should shave some off the debt.
"Oh, no," says the captain, eyes pinning Headmaster Ito. "That wouldn't be fair to Miss Hisana, would it, Toshiyuki? It has been a long while since she last attended, and the curriculum has changed so much since then. I'd hate to start her off at a disadvantage."
"Of course, Captain Kyōraku. We wouldn't want that." The headmaster's gaze then drifts back to Hisana. "Captain Kyōraku brings up a very good point, Hisana. The curriculum has evolved dramatically since you were last a student. Many of what had been second-year and even third-year classes have been moved to the first-year curriculum.
"As a soul from the Rukon, adapting to the rigor of the Academy is hardship enough. So, you will restart the curriculum at year one. Fortunately, you are in time to benefit from the last few days of the autumn semester's orientation for our off-cycle students."
He wants the extra tuition, she thinks ruefully to herself.
As for the captain? Hisana guesses that he wishes to keep his word to Lord Lieutenant Kuchiki that she will be adequately punished for her crimes against his family.
Well, if this isn't off to a terrible start. She's gone from a thief to an indentured student in a year's time. What dreadful luck….
Maybe there is yet another way to graduate early. Hisana has heard rumors of students completing the curriculum in four years or less if they are advanced enough in their skills. She already has her shikai. That alone should count for something.
"Does Headmaster Ito wish to test me, then? I believe my skills have improved since—" she starts.
"No need," interrupts Captain Kyōraku. "Hisana's passing score from before is evidence enough of her ability. An education should never be rushed, especially for you, Ms. Hisana. Self-improvement is a labor well worth the investment."
He's really sentencing her to a lifetime of indentured servitude for attempted theft. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. She wants to scream.
"Oh, yes. To be young and wanting to speed through life, again. You'd do well to heed the captain's words and relish this opportunity," Headmaster Ito chimes in.
Hisana scowls, arms folded against her chest.
"I will summon an ambassador from the Student Council to give you a tour, Hisana." With this, the headmaster gathers himself up. "As always, it is a pleasure seeing you again, Captain Kyōraku." He bows low.
Captain Kyōraku gives a mild nod of his head. "Please see to it that Hisana is well-provided for during her time here. I take my debts of honor seriously." The captain casts her a dark look.
Her scowl deepens.
"She will be well looked after. If her past performance is any indication, she will fit right in," says Headmaster Ito, leading them out of his office and into the reception area, where a bright-faced student waits for them.
"Oh, yes, Ayami Araki, one of our Second-Year students!" The headmaster gestures for the student to near.
"Good morning, Headmaster Ito and Captain Kyōraku!" The student is tall and willowy. She looks expensive even dressed in the modest white and red uniform. Her brown hair is glossy and neatly held back in a gold clasp. Her face is smooth and sun-kissed. And, she smells of lavender and sunflowers.
She's a noble.
Hisana frowns.
"Ayami, meet Hisana. Hisana is a new Class Two student."
Ayami nods her head. "From the Rukon?" she notes, careful to maintain the bubbliness of her voice, but Hisana hears the girl's disapproval loud and clear.
"Yes," says Hisana, "Inuzuri." Her tone takes on an edge that stifles Ayami's effervescence.
"Oh, how lovely," the girl says, smile tightening. "Well, I have your details. Follow me."
The tour is cut short by an announcement ordering all Second- and Fourth-Year students to report to the General Auditorium. For her part, Ayami was appropriately apologetic for having to leave so abruptly. Hisana, however, has very little need for a tour.
Not much has changed at the Academy since she last attended. The buildings and their uses are largely the same as they were decades ago. Even the dormitories carry the same names, the same general appearances, and stand just as they had when Hisana first matriculated.
It isn't hard for her to navigate the campus to purchase her uniforms and books for class. It almost feels like old hat. This feeling continues as she traces her way from the bookstore to the women's dormitory. It's the same one that she was assigned to before, and, briefly, she wonders if this assignment is intentional or if there is some sort of sorting metric at play that places students from lower-status Houses with those from the Rukon. Hisana assumes the latter as she winds her way to room 9909.
When she opens the door, she is a little surprised. The layout of the room is mostly as she remembers: There are two raised wooden beds on opposite walls and a singular raised writing desk to be shared under the room's one window. The floors are of a lighter shade of wood than she remembers, bamboo instead of cedar, and the window is much larger than her old one. There are also small closets flanking each side of the door. The space isn't particularly deep, but it is better than being forced to store all her clothing and sundry items under the bed.
Like before, Hisana has a roommate. The side of the room that her roommate has chosen is well-outfitted in pink and purple fabrics, hanging along the walls and billowing over the ceiling that slants above her bed. The pinning of the fabrics reminds Hisana of the lining of a sumptuous tent, the kind that she has read about in stories from distant places.
Judging by the quality of the fabrics, Hisana assumes her roommate must also be a noble. This does not surprise her. There were very few students from the Rukon when she attended the first time around. It's hard enough to survive that place let alone crawl out of it and be granted admission to the Academy.
Hisana glances back at her side of the room. She has nothing to make it her own. The few personal items that she possesses—clothes, cooking tools, cutlery, linens, dishware, food, and money—remain in the Southern Twenty-Fifth District, but, per the stipulations of her papers, she cannot leave Seireitei except on official business.
Hisana sits on the edge of the stained mattress and frowns at the three uniforms folded on the bed. She's going to need another job so that she can afford food and clothing. She can make do without a coat or covers for her bed while the summer's heat still lingers, but when winter hits…. She's going to freeze to death, assuming starvation doesn't take her first.
This is such a terrible idea. She hates it on a molecular level. She left the Academy for a reason and never once has she looked back or regretted that decision. Indeed, if there was any regret to be had toward the Academy at all, it was for having attended it in the first place.
She needs to leave. She needs to find a way out. She needs an escape plan. But, how?
Before she can think better of it, the door to the room wooshes open to reveal a girl. She's a tall, slender girl, with pink cheeks, shiny dark hair, large brown eyes, and a huge grin.
"You're here!" the girl cries out, rushing into the room and wrapping Hisana in a bear hug.
She wants to die.
"Oh my goodness! I am so excited to meet you! We are going to be the best of friends! I loved having a roommate!"
"What happened to your last roommate?" asks Hisana, eyes wide with horror.
"She left."
"Left the room?" Because of you?
"Left the Academy. She got a terrible case of food poisoning at the beginning of orientation and returned home. She says that she'll start next year."
"Oh." Hisana's brows fly up. "Wow." The girl probably got cold feet and decided against the whole joining an army of undead super-soldiers thing. Not that Hisana can blame her….
"It was shocking, but not particularly surprising. I think taking an extra year makes sense if you aren't ready."
Hisana nods her head. At least her roommate is positive.
"The dormitory coordinator said you were from the Rukon," the girl says, turning to her side of the room. She sinks to the floor and peers under the bed, as if in search of something.
"I am," says Hisana. "Inuzuri."
"Where's that?"
"The Southern Seventy-Eighth District."
"Oh, well you must be very strong to have come all the way from there." Wrestling with some item under the bed, the girl yanks it loose, sits up, and waves two pillows over her head. "Yours! Apologies for stealing them, but I didn't think that I would get another roommate so late into the orientation period, and, well, they are comfortable. You can keep the pillowcases if you like! They are from my old set. I don't need them now."
Hisana accepts the girl's offering and forces a smile. "Thank you?"
"No problem. Oh, I'm Tsuna Sasaki!"
"Hisana."
Tsuna bows with a little flourish. "So nice to meet you. They said that you were accompanied by someone in senior leadership of the Gotei 13 when you arrived at the Enrollment Office."
Hisana nods. "Yes. I was."
"Are you like… related in some way?" Tsuna wags her brows suggestively.
"Only through circumstance, not blood."
"Interesting. All the student workers in the Enrollment Office were gossiping about it this afternoon at lunch. The rumor is that you're the peasant lovechild of either Captain Kyōraku or Lieutenant Kuchiki. There's a betting pool now."
"A betting pool?"
"On which one is your father."
"Neither."
"I placed my bet on Lieutenant Kuchiki. You sort of have the look of a Kuchiki."
"I do?" News to her.
"Yeah. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Pale. Thin. Spindly arms and legs. You're sort of short, but I thought that was the peasant part."
"Oh." Hisana stares out, tense and mortified. "Thanks, I guess?"
"Yeah, the Kuchiki are beautiful. You're welcome."
Hisana's gaze flies to the door. How she longs to run far away from here, a feeling that she feels only slightly guilty for since Tsuna doesn't seem malevolent in her chattiness.
"You're from Seireitei, I take it?" asks Hisana in an attempt to pry Tsuna's attention away from herself.
"Yes. I was a handmaiden to a Tsunayashiro lady. My whole family is in service to the Tsunayashiro, actually. My father is their primary kimono-maker, and my mother works as his dyer. My sister—"
"Why did you decide to come here?"
"My lady died. Very suddenly. She was so kind and gentle. I couldn't fathom serving another lady from that family and suffering a similar heartbreak. So, I decided to pick myself up and try something new and different. Now, I'm here."
"Do you like it here?"
Tsuna shrugs. "It's okay. I miss being a handmaiden still. But, this is fine. Maybe I will be selected to join the Fourth and take on some administrative duty."
Hisana purses her lips together. She feels similarly. Life as a Shinigami does not hold the same appeal as it once did.
"What about you?" asks Tsuna.
Hisana pauses, not sure which lie to supply. There's the one she performed only a few hours ago for the benefit of the headmaster. Then, there's the half-lie that she served as a maid to House Kuchiki. This latter one seems more appropriate considering the complication of Byakuya Kuchiki….
While the likelihood that he ever runs into her with any of her classmates seems infinitesimally low, infinitesimally low still means there is a non-zero chance that such an event could occur. This would put her in quite a jam if her stories did not align. This concern does not sway her when it comes to the headmaster, seeing as he's probably already forgotten her and every trifling detail of her make-believe story.
"I worked as a maid last," Hisana decides.
"Which house?"
"House Kuchiki," she says, wincingly.
Tsuna draws in a gasping breath then grabs Hisana by the arm and forces her down on the bed.
Damn, even her mattress is nicer, Hisana thinks, sagging against the plush top cushion.
"What. Was. It. Like? Did you meet Lord Byakuya Kuchiki? Is he dreamy? Talented? Does his voice sound like midnight and crushed velvet? Tell me everything."
Hisana suddenly wishes she could evaporate. "I met both the Lord Lieutenant and Lord Byakuya Kuchiki. But, I was not in service to them with any frequency. I was only a maid for about a year."
"Is he beautiful?" Tsuna leans close, eyes boring into Hisana's soul.
Hisana's lips turn up in a wry grin. "He certainly thinks so."
Tsuna inhales a gasp. "You're flushing! Did he speak to you?"
Hisana feels no burn on her cheeks, but her fingers test the skin there just the same.
"He did!" Tsuna falls back on the bed in a state of reverie.
Hisana's mouth hangs open. "No. Never."
"You're still blushing!"
Hisana is not blushing.
Tsuna sits up on the back of her arms. "Did you see him with any ladies?"
"There was all manner of nobles at the house for gatherings."
"But, none that inspired him?"
Hisana shrugs. "I wouldn't have been in a position to know such things."
Tsuna frowns. "Does he smell nice?"
His room smelled of cherry blossoms and green tea. She remembers that much. Not that she would admit such a thing to this strange girl. "I don't remember… anything… like that…."
"Did you meet the Captain?"
Hisana shakes her head. "Never formally. I saw him in passing. Very rarely."
"He seems scary."
Hisana nods, her attention straying to the window. It's twilight! A current of panic floods into her chest before sending her to her feet.
"Where are you going?" cries Tsuna as Hisana reaches the door.
"I forgot. I have a meeting. Good night!"
When Hisana makes it to the bridge, the one that connects the path to the Kuchiki estate to the road leading into the market, she is breathless but hopeful. The hope that bubbles in her chest is a caustic one. It's hope that he's been detained or, better yet, that he's forgotten all about their promise.
She doesn't really want to see Byakuya Kuchiki. Not after what she did. Their conversation at dawn was enough closure for her.
If he knew the circumstances behind her enrolling at the Academy… he'd never forgive her.
Hisana wishes he would abandon her. She would abandon her. She wishes she could abandon him. She's good at abandoning others. Has tons of practice.
Her heart sinks at this thought as she stares out into the little stream that runs beneath the bridge. Her hands wrap around the banister of the bridge, and they squeeze it. Hard. Hard enough for her to feel the coarse wood prickle her palms.
"You came."
Hisana starts. Her brain goes a little fuzzy at the sound of that voice, and she glances over to see him standing barely an arm's length away. He, too, looks miserable. Just as miserable as she feels.
"We should go somewhere more private," she says, gaze drifting back to the water, which glows a golden yellow.
He nods and turns toward the manor.
Hisana is keen to keep her distance as she follows Byakuya Kuchiki. A heavy silence envelops them, noisy in its persistence, continuing even as they cross into his family's estate. Hisana can't be bothered to find a topic for conversation; her mind is aswirl of terrible, awful ideas for getting the fuck out of her present situation.
One particularly terrible idea takes hold as she glances sidelong at Byakuya: She could seduce him. The way he looks at her, even now, convinces her that he still wants to kiss her. Kissing quickly leads to other things.
It would be easy, she thinks. She would take his hand, lead him to the greenhouse that edges the property and she would kiss him until his blood turned to flame and burned all his silly notions of rules and romance to ash. She would then push him down, strip him of his armor, and fuck him until her name was the only name he would ever want to speak.
She would flaunt their relationship in public. Make it a gross spectacle. Then, his family would have no choice but to take action to stop her, to toss her out of the city. Can't have the future heir's attention inappropriately diverted to a peasant. What would the other families think? The scandal!
Except, that's not right at all.
No.
This plan would spell her ruin, and her ruin alone, reminding her that any cut she could land to the Kuchiki would slice her twice as deep in the execution.
First, she is no practiced temptress. She hasn't any evidence that she could achieve this sort of objective, especially given the aim of her machinations is a man who-while incredibly reckless, true-possesses the sort of un-cautionable recklessness that does not lend well to entrapment.
Second, even if she could ensnare him, his family or the family of some heartbroken overweening noble lady would murder her in her sleep. It's not like exiling her to the Rukon is the only or even the most likely solution to the problem of her connection if turned into a spectacle.
Lastly and probably most importantly, she doesn't actually hate Byakuya Kuchiki. And she would need to hate him, really hate him, to use him in this way. In fact and despite herself, she actually likes Byakuya Kuchiki. Far too much.
"Is all well?" Byakuya's voice drags Hisana from her spiteful spiral.
"First week is always an adjustment." The poisonous haze of her thoughts scatter.
"It's orientation," he says, voice quiet, almost tentative as if even he isn't quite sure of where he is going with this observation.
His uncertainty is sort of cute, she thinks. It's refreshing to see him worried about tripping over himself for once. "Yeah. No formal classes," she says.
Yet.
"Aren't there social engagements that you should be readying yourself for?"
She cuts him an annoyed glance. Maybe. But she's not going to any of those events. Been there. Done that. She learned all those lessons well enough to know not to purchase the tickets for the sequel.
And, yet…. Why does he care?
"What are you asking, Byakuya?"
His eyes widen slightly before darting to the road ahead of them.
She grins. "Are you asking if I need an escort?" She draws the words out teasingly. "Do you want to be my date?"
"No, I can't—"
"Oh, right. Don't want to be seen with a peasant. I get it," she mocks.
Now, it's his turn to glare at her with a look that is equal measures annoyed and nonplussed. "I didn't say that."
"But that's what you—"
"If your vanity would let me complete a thought," he begins, voice haughty and sharp, "I would've said that I can't step foot on Academy ground."
"What?"
"Yes," he says, face shuttering.
Her brows pull together. She doesn't understand. "Are you banned or something?"
His gaze trails back to her. "Correct," he says, sheepishly.
"What?" She stops in her paces, breathless in her disbelief. "You're lying." He's harassing her. Has to be.
"I am not." He continues ahead on the path, not missing a beat.
"What? How?"
"I was young."
"Me, too, and I'm not banned anywhere. At least, not formally," she says, running to catch up with him.
Hisana's pretty sure she's been informally banned from plenty of places, and there are whole-ass cities that she has to avoid or otherwise infiltrate like a wraith due to all the warrants for her arrest. Lucky for her, the wilds of the Rukon have a short memory given the quick turnover of its inhabitants.
"Well, I was young and undisciplined and I may have caused some light property damage."
"You wrecked the place, didn't you?"
His lips press together.
"Like, really wrecked the place," she concludes. "Is that why the one kidou dojo is in shambles?"
"Some of the repairs may still be ongoing."
"Why were you at the Academy? I didn't think you attended—"
"I didn't attend. I was tricked into coming there."
Oh, well, now she must know this story. This could be of great use to her. "So, how does one trick Lord Byakuya Kuchiki into leveling a city block?"
"It wasn't a whole city block, and, as I said, I was young."
She chews on her lip to keep from smiling. "How long are you banned for?"
"Five more years."
"So, like ten years total?"
"Twenty."
A wet chuckle bursts from her lips.
He glares at her.
"Only five more years," she croaks, trying her best to swallow the last bit of laughter bubbling in her throat. "Well, maybe you can make it to my graduation, then."
The defensive tension setting the muscles in his jaw and around his eyes softens at this possibility.
Can't let that look stand, she thinks to herself before asking, "Are you banned anywhere else that I should be aware of?"
Hisana half expects him to chastise her or tease back, but, when deafening silence snakes between them instead, her jaw drops. "Byakuya."
That sheepish look returns to his face.
"Byakuya." She draws out his name, voice a scandalized hiss.
He swallows. Thickly.
"How many places?"
"It matters not." His chin jerks up, his jaw sets, and the lines of his face smooth into the imperious mask that he wears so well.
She laughs, shooting him a knowing glance. "So, I am keeping company with a bona fide scoundrel?"
For a flash, he returns her laugh with a boyish grin.
This is a development with which she can find no fault. None at all.
