CW: This chapter contains non-graphic descriptions of blood, bodily injury, and scarring.

Spring was still reveling in all its glory, but the first flowers had begun to wilt, rain was becoming less frequent, and the heat of the day had started to linger into the evening. Renewal was slowly giving way to pure life, with even the sun sticking around as long as it could get away with it. The world was in full bloom, but even now, it was only settling in.

On the engawa of his captain's quarters, illuminated by the last of the evening sun, Byakuya poured three dishes of sake. The first, he underfilled; while not per se tired, he was wearier than usual after his demonstration that afternoon. It had been a solo venture, Renji having backed out at the last minute, and he and Senbonzakura had felt compelled to compensate.

Byakuya, do just say "show off," the Zanpaku-to spirit mused.

"Compensate" is more elegant, Byakuya chided. The return of Senbonzakura's commentary some weeks prior had been a comfort, and it still was—for now, anyway. But in our case, he continued, perhaps they are synonymous.

I'm glad you see reason.

With his sake dish settled, Byakuya pushed the second toward the portrait beside him. Around the time of Senbonzakura's return, he began to no longer feel compelled to hide Hisana away. She deserved to see everything without him limiting her view to the inside of a wardrobe. Even now, she was shrouded in light from the sunset streaming through the courtyard, nearly glowing.

Raising his sake dish in silent cheers, Byakuya sipped the chill sweetness as he looked out over the lawn. There stood the recipient of the third sake dish, rendered little more than a black figure from the backlighting of the setting sun. When she'd first arrived that afternoon for his demonstration, he'd been tempted to tease that he was forgetting what she looked like, but a remnant of hesitation held him back. Tsukiko was his daughter, yes, and now in more than blood. But only just. Her transfer to Squad Thirteen hadn't exactly given them the time to work on the specifics of their renewed relationship.

Even so, they had managed to share a polite nod before the demonstration, and much to his surprise, just a short while ago, Tsukiko had requested her own.

He found Hisana again within the glaring sunlight on her portrait. "You did your best, my dear," he murmured. He closed his eyes, remembering that awful nightmare, Hisana's warning. "But as much as she is your daughter, she is also mine."

Turning back to the lawn, he lightly waved his hand. "Well, do go on."

Tsukiko set her hand on the hilt of her sword, which was now kept in a pure black sheath. Where just a month earlier the handguard had been the plain circle typical to all Asauchi, it was now a rounded rhombus, hollowed out save for four prongs that extended from the shape's corners and connected to the blade itself. "You sure you're not particularly attached to your lawn?" she called out.

"I am not."

Yes you are, Senbonzakura said.

Quiet.

"Alright, well..." In one clean motion, Tsukiko drew her blade, then held it above her head with the blade pointing downward.

Byakuya shared in Senbonzakura's amusement at the familiarity.

Tsukiko took a deep breath. "Purge...Koushoumori!"

She drove the tip of the sword straight into the earth. At once, thick black roots shot down the blade from the handguard and burrowed into the ground, with others racing upward to tangle around Tsukiko's hand, which still grasped the hilt. For a split second, what looked like pain struck Tsukiko's features, but with no other reaction from her, Byakuya wrote it off as shock. This was a big moment, her first—according to her—public reveal of her personal growth.

Or...so it would be, if anything were happening.

Byakuya narrowed his eyes at the grass, missing Tsukiko's growing smirk.

Just as Byakuya was deciding how best to smooth this over, a leafless tree burst from the ground directly in front of the engawa, shooting clumps of dirt into the air as its many branches cast off in all directions. Wide-eyed, Byakuya shifted away from a flying clod, only for another to hit his chest.

As soon as the tree finished growing, another emerged from the ground some feet away, and then another after that. All three had the shaggy bark of a black birch, but where the species was typically only black in name, these trees were dark as night, save for the inner bark, which was of deep carmine. With the exception of a tiny bronze leaf clinging to a branch on the third tree, they were all bare.

"Tada!" Tsukiko called out.

Carefully rising from the engawa, Byakuya inspected the tree just in front of him. It appeared to be living, despite its coloration, though other than the element of surprise from its growth, he could not see what it did. He reached toward the trunk—

"Don't touch it!" Tsukiko shouted.

Raising an eyebrow, Byakuya lowered his hand. "Why not?"

She pointed to her right hand, still encapsulated in tree roots. "You'll remember that my palm is permanently scarred now."

"That it is, yes..." Byakuya squinted at the tree before him. "How many can you raise at a time?"

"You're looking at the limit. I've tried for more, but I mostly wind up just exhausting myself."

"Yes, you shouldn't push yourself beyond your limits. Three is plenty for now..." The more he looked at the tree, the more he sensed it wasn't made of wood. Especially not with the way the sunlight was, dare he say it, reflecting off the bark.

"Tell me, can you move the trees' position?"

"They have to go underground again, but yeah. Element of surprise and all that."

"I see. And can you raise them in a confined space as well?"

"I most certainly can—kinda have to considering I'm stuck here."

"You can't move?"

"No. Koushoumori says that's one of the sacrifices of this Shikai..." Tsukiko turned away.

"Sacrifices?" He raised his hand.

"It's a little complicated, and I'd rather not—Captain, no!"

Ignoring Tsukiko's warning, he touched the tree trunk with the pad of his index finger. The bark was shockingly cold, and when he pressed, its texture was not fibrous. He turned his hand over to tap the branch with his fingernail, and confirming his theory, his ears were met not with a dull thud, but a muted, metallic ping. Reviewing his finger, it was unharmed—though he doubted it would be the same story in a few years.

Tsukiko's shoulders sank in relief as he finished his inspection. "Please don't do that again," she said.

"Why shouldn't I?" Byakuya said. "Consider it a measure of your development: are your trees sharp enough to cut off my finger?"

"Ch, not yet..."

"That's the spirit." Byakuya sat back down. "You should be proud of yourself, Tsukiko. This is a promising Shikai. I'm eager to see what it becomes as you train."

Tsukiko chuffed as the trees began to withdraw back into the ground, but something in her stance changed from cynical to serene. "Yeah, I...thank you, sir—uh, Captain. Just. Captain."

"I would like to think I am a just captain, yes."

"Oh, he's so funny..."

I thought bantering made you nervous, Senbonzakura said as Tsukiko's metal trees dwindled away.

I thought I told you to be quiet.

Within seconds, the last of the trees were gone, the only evidence of their existence the large holes in the ground from which they had burst. The roots extending from Koushoumori's hilt also withdrew, and once they were gone, Tsukiko sheathed the blade once more. She tugged at her right sleeve, the modest act rather charming.

"I believe this warrants a nice drink," Byakuya said, at last filling the third sake dish.

Tsukiko joined him on the engawa, Hisana's portrait between them, and dipped her head in thanks. "Thank you, Captain."

"You make a fine addition to Squad Thirteen. I'm sure Captain Kuchiki is proud to have you as a soldier, especially now."

Tsukiko blushed and looked away. "I, uh, haven't shown the captain yet."

Byakuya eyed her carefully. "It is the responsibility of an officer to report their progress to their superiors."

"Yes, but I want to have...I don't know, something to show her first."

"You just showed me something."

"Yeah, but those trees..." Tsukiko pursed her lips, tugging her sleeve again. "Fine, I'll show her..."

"I never said it had to happen today, Tsukiko." Byakuya refilled his dish. "Soon, but not today—and only from you."

Something released in Tsukiko's shoulders. Indignance still lingered in her eyes, but Byakuya felt no offense. It was a look he recognized, one he knew could be tempered by time and reason—though for Tsukiko's sake, he hoped the latter would be gentler to her than it had to him.

He lifted his sake dish. "Now, cheers to the emergence of a powerful officer with a grand Shikai."

Tsukiko raised her dish. "And to the demonstration of a top-notch Bankai from a pretty swell captain."

Byakuya permitted himself a small smile as they drank. He glanced at Hisana's portrait, still glowing in the sunlight. This wasn't quite where he imagined they'd all be at this point in time, but even if the specifics had changed, this was the ideal. Two of the most important women in his life were here, shaping him one dream, one hole in the ground at a time.

He glanced at Tsukiko. Her hands were on her lap, the palms turned down. They'd carried so much over the last few months, and while he knew better than to think she was fully alright, at last her hands could rest.

Tsukiko shifted some, but as she did so, Byakuya caught a smudge of something dark along her right thumb.

"Tsukiko, what is that?" he said.

"What's what?"

He nodded at her hand. "That."

"What do you—oh, that." Tsukiko yanked her sleeve down, moving her hand out of sight. "Like I said, one of the sacrifices, but it's not a big deal, don't worry."

Byakuya eyed her carefully. "What you just said is an excellent means of making someone worry."

"That's not necessary, Captain, really."

Many years as a captain and a lifetime of impatience would not let him believe this to be true. Just a few months of rebuilding a relationship with his daughter would not let him call her out. But somewhere in between lay his decades as a father. They'd been dormant mostly, yes, but not anymore. And never again.

"Tsukiko," he began, "I will ask just one more time—what is that on your hand?"

With practiced ease, the Kuchiki mask slid into place over Tsukiko's features. "I have told you, Captain, it's nothing to worry about," she said coolly. "I appreciate your concern, and your understanding."

"And I appreciate your honesty."

Stone gray met stone gray, either side willing the other to fold. Tsukiko's eyes narrowed just slightly, and he used it to press her. He had a very good idea of what that dark smudge on her thumb was, and if it was the result of wielding her Shikai, he needed to know it would not harm Tsukiko more than it already had. It was one thing to commit to one's innate abilities, but this...

"Who's winnin' the staring contest?"

Both their gazes snapped forward, and Byakuya held back a scowl as he found Renji standing before the engawa. "What is it, Abarai?"

Whatever joviality had come into Renji's eyes dimmed immediately. He glanced at Tsukiko and back at Byakuya. "I...I apologize for not participating in the demonstration today, sir." He bowed low. "I made a promise that I broke, and if I really could not have participated, I should have let you know well in advance. S-so not an hour before the demo. Sir."

A few responses came to mind then, the most prominent something along the lines of "I don't have the mental capacity for this right now," but even in his frustration, he had to be a captain—albeit a tired one. "I accept your apology, Renji," Byakuya said slowly. "But what will you do to compensate for your absence today?"

"I-I'll do all of next week's paperwork!"

"No, you will not," Byakuya ordered; he'd had his fill of Renji's chicken scratch. "You will take your leave and not disturb me for the remainder of the evening. Am I clear?"

Renji looked as though he wanted to speak up, but thinking better of it, he resumed his bow. "Yes, sir. Good evening, sir." His gaze turned to Tsukiko. "Good evening, officer."

"I think I'll actually leave with you," Tsukiko announced. She rose from the engawa and bowed low to Byakuya, her Kuchiki mask still on. "Thanks for watching, Captain," she said, her tone respectful but clipped.

Locking eyes with Renji, Byakuya felt just as shocked as his lieutenant looked. So this was a surprise to both of them, then.

Good, Senbonzakura mumbled.

Renji swallowed, his eyes, still on Byakuya, morphing from shocked to apprehensive. Almost like...

Does this dog want your approval? Senbonzakura asked.

He must. And he was ready to deny it. Tsukiko was no longer his officer, nor was she truly his ward, but...

Byakuya, say no, Senbonzakura insisted.

"Lieutenant, shall we go?" Tsukiko said primly.

Say no! And what about her hand? You can't let her go until you see her hand!

As much as he agreed with Senbonzakura, the weight of a lesson hard learned was pressing on him.

Unsure if it even counted, so minimal was the movement, Byakuya nodded once despite himself.

Surprise once again on Renji's features, he bowed a shade lower than a farewell would warrant before waving Tsukiko forward.

Senbonzakura did not hold back his fury, but Byakuya relented with just his fist, which he clenched atop his knee. Because while there was hesitance, maybe even a little fear, on Renji's features, and while Tsukiko held herself with more spite than genuine interest, he had come to learn what happened when he interfered too much. There was plenty of lunacy to control, but in the end, he was the insane one for thinking he could fix any of it.

Besides, as much as he didn't want to think about it, there was a familiarity to the scene as his daughter and lieutenant left the garden side by side.

Senbonzakura only growing louder, Byakuya poured himself more sake, sipping it carefully lest he down it. Indeed, there was plenty he didn't understand of this world. But if he'd learned anything in almost the year since Tsukiko came crashing back into his life, it was that there were many things beyond comprehension. Try as he might to understand it, certain things just happened, and no amount of scrutiny or questioning would bring him an answer. The only thing he could do was move forward with his new reality. Sometimes this was easy, other times supremely difficult, but in the end, his response would impact what happened next. If he was lucky, he could predict it. If not, he was back to where he started.

And to a degree, he already was. Tsukiko was gone from his squad. Senbonzakura annoyed him on the regular. He could crack a joke with Renji. His family, extended and immediate, was as stable as he could ever hope for it to be. He was, for all intents and purposes, doing quite well.

Your daughter's eyeing up a dog and her Zanpaku-to could be a monster, Senbonzakura hissed. Do something!

She can handle it, Byakuya said. She is her own person, and she can handle anything. She does not want me to hold her hand—she never has.

But as he drank more of his sake, he sincerely hoped that she might want him to.

She would need it.

Koushoumori: noble forest

And so it's over. This fic was my dive back into fanfiction after years of non-engagement with the Bleach fandom, and for that reason alone, it's an important one. It's acted as a springboard for me to re-embrace my inner weeb, and it's also the final fic I will ever publish on FFN. From now on, it's AO3.

Later, peeps. Thanks for enduring.