a/n: This one-shot set in the same universe as "lavender", my Byakuya x OC fic. All OCs are referenced in that fic, so I would recommend you read it first if you want to have some context.

That being said, this one-shot features extensive OC lore that hasn't been mentioned in "lavender", and there's a lot of time jumps. I plan for this to be the first in a series of one-shots that will delve into other OCs from that story. If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a review 3


birthday

Gokaru hated birthdays.

Well, not all birthdays. Just his.

It was one stupid day, one day out of three-hundred sixty-five. It wasn't important, not to anyone who didn't know him. He didn't even know his actual birthday. He just remembered the day he showed up in the Soul Society, holding Gota's hand like it was a lifeline:

February 2nd.

February 2nd was the closest thing he had to a birthday, even though to Gokaru, it was always just…another day.

But Gota? Ha!

Gota loved birthdays.

Gokaru never knew how he did it, but he always managed to scrounge up some sweets for them to "celebrate" with. They never had a real cake, or birthday candles, or anything like that. But Gota would always have that big bright smile on his face, and for Gokaru, that was enough.

Then, Gota was gone.

Without Gota, birthdays only serve to remind Gokaru of what he's lost. They reminded him of how lonely he was, of the years spent in Rukongai, fucking and fighting and getting nothing to show for it.

When Gokaru joined the Gotei 13, he didn't have to think about stupid things like birthdays. As an assassin in the Second Division, you didn't have a name, much less a birthday. Gokaru's days passed listlessly, and his nights were full of sex, secrets, and blood.

He thought it would be enough.

And it was…for a while.

But then, there was one February 2nd. It started out like any other day. Gokaru got handed a name, and so he left to take care of it.

It should've been like any other assignment. Gokaru didn't ever think too hard about the names, about their families and their dreams and what kind of person they were. That wasn't his job. His job was to put a knife in their back, or slice their throat, or slip some poison in their tea. Whatever was simplest.

It was supposed to be an easy job. Gokaru was only given the basics — some noble kid was about to reach adulthood, and some power-hungry relative didn't want him to see the next sunrise. Gokaru wasn't allowed to ask why, and honestly, he didn't care. It was just another name, just another job.

Until he saw the face.

That face…fucked him up.

Everything had gone perfectly up to that point. Sneaking past the gates and the guards, finding his way around the massive estate — all that had been easy. Too easy. Gokaru recognized the house. A few years ago, he'd been here on an information-gathering mission. He tried not to think about it, tried not to wonder if the name on his list was attached to the giggling laughter of a child he'd heard echoing through the halls.

He found the bedroom isolated on the other side of the house. A stupid choice on the family's part — it's like they were asking for this kid to get killed.

There was a window, already cracked open to let in the breeze. Honestly, it had been so easy that it wasn't even fun anymore.

He slipped in, making sure to keep his reiatsu concealed. He stealthily crossed the room towards the bed frame against the wall. The kid was sound asleep, one leg hanging off the futon and an arm thrown over his face as he snored softly.

Gokaru wondered what it felt like to sleep so peacefully…to not have your unconscious mind bombarded with nightmares so horrible and frequent that you couldn't get through the whole night unless you got black-out drunk. Just to quiet the noise in your head.

He approached the bed, grabbing a small pouch of powder out of his robes. He'd been instructed to make it quick and bloodless; the client didn't want anyone suspecting him.

At the time, the drug was a relatively new invention from the Twelfth. Gokaru didn't understand all the science, but from what he was told, it was a highly concentrated powder meant to disrupt brain receptors — whatever the fuck that meant. The important part was that it was fast-acting and untraceable. All he needed to do was dust some under the kid's nose, and he'd never wake up.

Gokaru hovered over the bed, gingerly moving the arm that was covering the kid's face as he slept. He took a glance at his victim's face, and as the moonlight illuminated his features, Gokaru's heart leaped into his throat.

The kid…looked just like Gota.

Gokaru stepped back and rubbed his eyes. He tried to convince himself he was just seeing things. He wanted to blame the date (he was always nostalgic on his birthday), but when he took another look, he was forced to accept it.

This kid just happened to look eerily similar to his dead brother.

The same mousy brown hair. The same slightly crooked nose, like it'd been broken before and hadn't healed quite right. As the kid snored, Gokaru caught a glimpse of a chipped tooth and that…

No. Fuck that.

Fuck that.

Gokaru couldn't do it. It was too much. It wasn't his first time killing someone, wasn't even his first time killing a kid. His list of names was longer than he could count, almost as long as his list of bodies.

But none of those names ever had that face.

Why did it have to be that name with that face…on his fucking birthday.

Before he knew it, he was already climbing out the window and stumbling over the lawn. He just ran, ran to his dorm in the barracks with his beaten-down mattress covered in dried cum that he hadn't bothered to clean in a week. His head was flooded with memories of Gota, of his laugh and smile and the way they used to cuddle for warmth in the alley.

That was the real reason why Gokaru hated birthdays. Birthdays always reminded him of Gota.

He'd been lucky that his Captain just chewed him out instead of killing him.

"So you get Shikai, and now you think you can fucking slack off? Do you understand how this fucks up our credibility?"

Gokaru said nothing. He stared at the floor, feeling ashamed in a way he wasn't used to.

The Captain had spit in his face, scowling. "You've gone soft. I don't want a Shinigami that can't do his fucking job."

The next week, Gokaru was transferred to the Seventh.

He doesn't know what happened to the kid. He knew someone else would be sent to finish the job that he couldn't, but…he didn't want to know.

For a long time after that, Gokaru just spent every birthday getting blackout drunk by himself. He didn't even want the momentary comfort of a one-night stand. It was just him, countless bottles of sake, and his fucked up memories.

~X~

It was a Thursday night, and Tsuchigawa Roko had just walked into the bar.

Gokaru watched her slide onto a barstool on the other side of the counter. He was having drinks with Minari, and she was rambling about…something. She lost his attention a while ago, and she had no hope of regaining it now that Roko was here.

He sat up straight, looking directly over Minari's shoulder, and called out, "Oi, Dango-chan!"

Roko's head turned, locking eyes with him immediately. She smiled, fumbling out of her seat and rushing over to sit with them. It was…cute.

Gods, he wanted to fuck her. So fucking bad.

"Mina-chan!" she cheered, hugging the dark-haired Shinigami from behind. Minari laughed, her face already a little flushed from the alcohol. Their casual affection made something in Gokaru's heart twist, but he drowned out the feeling with a swig of beer.

"Damn, what do I have to do to get you to greet me like that?" he joked.

Roko glanced at him, eyes widening and cheeks turning pink. Then, she smirked, hugging Minari tighter and singing, "Aww, are you jealous?"

"Ha, as if." Gokaru finished the bottle, trying not to think about why it suddenly tasted more bitter than before. "Anyways, what are you up to? I didn't see you around at the Academy this week."

Minari glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, a quizzical smile tugging at her lips. Gokaru ignored her, focusing on Roko's pretty pink cheeks instead.

"Yeah, I'm taking a week off to catch up on some work at the Eighth. We had a rush of transfers, and somehow, the paperwork got lost…"

"You mean your Taichō lost them?" Minari asked. She pulled Roko into her lap and wrapped her hands around her waist, snuggling into the crook of her neck. Gokaru just stared, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Roko sighed, leaning back against Minari's chest. "Yeah. Normally it wouldn't be a big deal, but apparently, Yamamoto-sōtaichō got involved, so now it's a top priority. Anyway, I'll be back to teaching classes next week once I've caught up."

Gokaru waved at the bartender for another drink. "Well, hopefully, your students will survive without you. I'd hate to see them blow each other up with some half-assed Kidō."

Roko laughed, and the sound brought forth a surge of warmth in Gokaru's chest. Gods, he wished that she would just let him fuck her. He knew once he'd seen her naked and made her cum, he'd lose this stupid obsession he had with her.

He always lost interest once he'd fucked them.

"You know, there's this new ramen place that just opened on the other side of town," Roko said. Even with Minari's face buried in the crook of her neck, she was looking at Gokaru with wide, attentive eyes.

"We should check it out! I get off early next Wednesday after class, maybe we could all go together?"

"Wednesday? Yeah maybe," Gokaru mused. "What's the date? I can check if I'm working."

Roko racked her brain, humming for a moment. "I think it's the second?"

Gokaru's hand tightened around the neck of his beer.

"Oh."

Right. February 2nd. How could he forget?

He tried to stop himself from frowning, but he knew it was already happening. He turned his face away and took a long, burning sip of his beer.

Minari's hands tightened around Roko's waist, her smile fading. She murmured, "Um, Gokaru's busy…but I'll go with you."

"Oh?" Roko seemed to sense the shift in his mood, but she didn't know what to make of it. "Okay…maybe another day then? When we could all go together?"

Gokaru slammed the bottle on the counter, startling the bargoers sitting next to them. Even Roko jumped.

"It's fine. Go with Minari. I got plans," he said.

"Oh…okay," Roko murmurs. Her disappointment was palpable, and it made Gokaru feel shittier.

Aw hell. Fuck this.

He slid off the barstool, not bothering to leave any cash on the counter for the bartender.

"Gokaru, don't leave," Minari pleaded, but he was already walking away.

"Cover my tab for me, will you?" Gokaru called over his shoulder. He didn't bother to look back as he headed for the exit.

Roko watched him leave in shocked silence. She had no idea what she did to make him upset enough to just…leave. And without paying?

"That was…weird," she commented, slowly climbing out of Minari's lap to take the seat Gokaru had left empty. She stared at the unfinished bottle of beer on the counter, the corner of her lips pulling into a frown.

Minari sighed, propping her elbow on the counter and resting her head in her palm. "I'm sorry. You didn't do anything wrong; he's just…" She grimaced, not wanting to overstep her boundaries but feeling it wouldn't be right not to say anything.

"His birthday is on the second," she finally admitted.

Roko's eyes widened. "What? Oh shit, I didn't know—" She looked back at the door as if it would make Gokaru magically appear again. "I didn't realize…is that why he got mad?"

Minari smiled sheepishly. "He's just…sensitive about his birthday. It's a hard day for him."

Roko's heart dropped. She wasn't that close with Gokaru, but she thought they were friends. She didn't understand why he couldn't just tell her that. She wanted to know more, wanted to know him more. "Why?"

Minari shrugged. "I don't know. He never actually told me when it was, I only found out a few years ago when I asked the Captain. I wanted to get him a gift, but he told me not to. He said one year they threw him a birthday party and he sort of…went off. He was forced to go home early because he was so worked up."

She took a deep breath, her eyes swimming with guilt. "Roko, you have to understand, there's a lot he doesn't talk about. I know he's always making jokes and acting like he doesn't care about anything but…he's been through shit. Really bad shit."

Roko didn't know what to say. What could she say? Gokaru was a mystery to her, always laughing and joking and fucking anything that moved. She didn't know what to make of him half the time, except that he made her laugh and he was her friend. She hated the thought of him spending all those birthdays alone.

"I see."

Minari could hear the gears turning in her friend's head, and she rubbed her shoulder sympathetically. "Don't worry about it. He just needs to blow off some steam, and then he'll be fine. He'll probably ask about the restaurant next time he sees you." She fished through her pocket for some change, showing it off to Roko before placing it on the counter.

"Just don't let him sack you with the tab," she advised with a wink.

Roko chuckled, but she couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the night.

~X~

The date was February 2nd.

It had been almost three hundred years since Gokaru lost his brother – almost three hundred years of painful, lonely birthdays spent wallowing in his own self-pity. He was beginning to forget what Gota looked like, what he sounded like. The face in his memories was getting blurrier, and on every birthday, Gokaru was overcome with the fear that eventually, Gota's face would be nothing more than an empty slate in his mind.

This year, Gokaru decided to do something different.

He didn't know why, what in the heavens and hells compelled him to feel this way. All he knew was that he didn't want to be alone, not this time.

He found himself wandering through the Seireitei, searching for the apartment building that was the second-closest thing he had to a home, after his own decrepit dormitory. The yellow door at the end of the hall on the third floor welcomed him, like a lost pet that managed to stumble their way home.

He could already sense Roko's reiatsu inside. It was warm, like the heat of an oven, and the air smelled like fresh bread.

It had been fifty-two years since he met Roko. Thirty-one years since they started fucking and their friendship dissolved into…whatever the hell this was.

Over the last thirty-one years, Gokaru has often ended up on her doorstep. But never on this day, never on February 2nd.

Until now.

He stopped right in front of the door, his fist hovering over the painted and chipped wood. It felt wrong standing there, being with her, on this day of all days. It wasn't right. Why was he seeking comfort in the arms of someone else, when he should have been by himself, letting his mind and body be overcome with shame and grief? That was what he should have been doing. That was what he deserved.

He took a step back, preparing himself to go home and drown himself in alcohol like he did every year, when the door suddenly flew open. Roko stood before him, her cute little stained apron covered in flour and her hair tied up in a mess of purple. Her expression was one of disbelief, and maybe…hope?

"Karu-chan," she breathed. "I sensed your reiatsu. How long have you been standing there?"

Gokaru's mouth was so dry.

"I…I don't know. I just…thought I'd stop by."

He never told Roko when his birthday was. He never told anyone. He wondered if she had found out somehow anyway, but it wasn't a thought he let linger for too long. It never mattered if she knew or not, because he never wanted to celebrate it.

But here he was, standing in her doorway, not sure what he was doing, but also, too scared to leave.

Roko smiled, and she reached for Gokaru's hand, pulling him inside, where it was bright and warm and smelled so fucking good.

"I made dango," she said, guiding him into the kitchen. "Do you want some?"

Gokaru's mouth was watering before he even sat down. Something was baking in her rickety old oven, and a loaf of fresh bread was sitting on the counter.

"Sorry about the mess!" Roko maneuvered around the kitchen, fetching a plate from one of her cabinets. Then she grabbed a couple skewers of dango and filled a plate for him.

"Mitarashi dango," she said, setting it down on the table. "It's your favorite, right?"

Fuck, mitarashi dango was his favorite.

Gokaru stared at the plate, his head swirling with emotions. It smelled fucking amazing, and it looked fucking amazing. But he couldn't get over the fact that Roko already had it prepared, had it sitting on the counter like she knew she was going to need it, like she knew he was coming.

He looked up at her, but she had already walked away to attend to a bowl she was mixing on the counter. Her humming echoed throughout the kitchen, and for a very long time, Gokaru couldn't do anything but just stare at her in disbelief.

She finally noticed he hadn't eaten, and her face fell. "What's wrong? Are you not hungry? Do you want something else?"

Gokaru shook his head, and choked out, "Do you know?"

Roko bit her lip and turned away to keep working on what she was mixing. "Know what?"

Gokaru was dumbfounded. She had to know; there was no way she didn't know—not when she'd made his favorite dessert, not when she'd opened the door like she'd been expecting him, waiting for him.

But he couldn't ask. He was afraid of the answer, afraid of what it would mean. So he shakily grabbed one of the skewers and lifted it to his mouth, sinking his teeth into the gooey sweet softness of the dango.

Roko occasionally peeked over her shoulder, never staring for too long. Gokaru couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye, instead focusing on the food in front of him.

When he finished eating, he pushed the plate away. He was thinking about Gota and all the times he'd snuck some dango from the street vendors and offered it to him like a present, whispering, "Happy birthday onii-chan," a secret only they knew.

Something trickled down his cheek. He raised a hand to his face, shocked when his fingertips found a trail of wetness.

Fuck.

He hastily rubbed his eyes, not noticing when Roko caught him, brows knitted together. She turned away, clearing her throat before talking a little too loud. "If you're still hungry, there's plenty more. I think I made too much, honestly. And I'm not going to be able to finish it all. It's a good thing you stopped by Karu-chan, otherwise all this dango would go to waste—"

Footsteps thumped across the floor, and she didn't have a chance to turn around before she was embraced by strong, shaking arms. Gokaru buried his face against her back, his arms squeezing her so tight it almost hurt.

"Roko," he choked out.

Her breath caught in her throat, tears welling in her eyes. She put down the mixing bowl, her hands trembling as she found his and squeezed. She didn't say anything, afraid to scare him off.

Fifty-two years of friendship. Thirty-one years of fucking. And never once has Roko seen Gokaru cry.

He was shaking, sniffling and rubbing his forehead against her back.

"C-can I…" His voice cracked, stuttering into a sob. "P-please, let me stay over tonight."

Roko's heart broke. How could she say no to that? Gokaru had never asked her for anything, not like this. Not for anything that mattered.

"Of course," she said, her own voice shaking. She managed to twist around and embrace him, letting him bury his face in her chest. His tears dampened her apron, but she didn't mind. Not at all.

They end up in bed, legs intertwined and Roko holding him against her. He wasn't crying anymore, but he was quiet. Awfully quiet. Roko wondered what was going through his head, what kind of horrible memories were replaying in his mind.

She didn't know how long they lay there before Gokaru spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"I used to have a brother."

Oh.

Oh.

Roko held him tighter. She wanted desperately to know more, but she knew he had to be the one to decide how much to share. After a minute of silence, he swallowed thickly and continued, "His name was Gota. When we woke up in Rukongai, we were holding hands. I didn't know, back then, that it was rare for family members to pass on together. I had no idea…how lucky we were."

His voice was hoarse, scratched and fracturing with every word. Roko could practically feel the centuries of pain and loneliness seeping out of him.

"We couldn't remember our real birthdays. But Gota hated not celebrating it, so we decided that the day we ended up in the Soul Society would be our birthday. Every year, he would steal something for me, as a gift. I told him not to, but…he was fucking stupid. He always found a way to get me some dango."

He let out another shuddering breath. His hands squeezed around her waist, pressing them so close together that he didn't know where his body ended, and hers started.

"That's why…I hate my birthday. Because it's not just mine; it was his, too. And…it feels wrong to celebrate without him."

The confession sent Roko's mind spiraling. It made so much sense, yet it was so devastating. How long had he been dealing with this on his own? How long had he kept these feelings a secret? Did Minari know? Did anyone know?

No, she couldn't let herself get carried away. Whoever he'd told, it didn't matter. He chose to share this with her. He chose to spend the night with her; not to fuck her, but to let himself be vulnerable.

That meant something.

This meant something.

It had to.

Roko held him tight, letting him cry into her chest until he finally drifted off. It wasn't the first time he'd fallen asleep in her bed. She watched his face, waiting for the telltale twitches and groans that meant he was suffering from more nightmares.

But it never came, and eventually, Roko fell asleep. When she woke up, Gokaru was gone. He'd made his side of the bed, and there was a note haphazardly scribbled on a napkin on the counter.

Thank you for the dango - G

Roko took the napkin and held it against her chest, her heart pounding. She didn't want to overthink it, to make something out of nothing. But…she couldn't deny it. Last night was different, and something between them had changed. She wasn't just a friend or a fuck buddy. She didn't know what she was, but for the first time since she'd met Gokaru, she started to…hope.

Hope for something more.

~X~

Gokaru still hated his birthday. But at least, after that night with Roko, he never had to spend it alone.