Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story.
Byakuya woke up from that terrible nightmare, his heart pounding. He was not a man prone to shedding tears, but at this moment, it felt as if blood-stained tears could spill from his eyes—just as they had in his dream.
Without thinking, he tightened his embrace around Rukia, pulling her closer.
She stirred, roused by the sudden tension in his body. Still half-asleep, she nuzzled into his chest, her warmth grounding him.
"Anata?" she murmured, her voice laced with concern as she wrapped her arms around him.
Byakuya didn't respond immediately. He simply held her, his hand resting protectively over the gentle curve of her stomach. Decades had passed, yet the past still haunted him.
He could never forget how he had once sentenced her to death.
A decision he could never truly forgive himself for making.
"It's alright, Byakuya," she whispered softly, her voice steady, reassuring. "I forgive you."
His throat tightened. He pressed a lingering kiss to her hair, inhaling her familiar scent, willing himself to calm down. But inside, he was still shaken, his heartbeat erratic.
"Thank you," he finally admitted, his voice quiet but sincere. He focused on the steady rhythm of her breathing, trying to settle the turmoil within. Just moments ago, it had felt as though his heart might burst from his chest.
Because he never wanted to imagine a life without Rukia.
A soft knock interrupted the stillness.
"Kuchiki-sama," Seiki's voice came from the other side of the door. "Young Master and Miss would like to enter."
Byakuya exhaled, pressing one last kiss to Rukia's forehead before sitting up. "Let them in," he permitted.
The door slid open, and two small figures hesitantly peeked inside. Their wide eyes flickered between their father and mother.
"Otou-sama," they called out in unison, and something in Byakuya's chest constricted.
"Can we sleep here with Okaasan?" His seven-year-old son stood protectively beside his little sister, clutching her beloved Chappy doll in one hand.
"Please?" The four-year-old girl blinked up at him, her violet eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
Rukia started to sit up, but Byakuya gently pressed her back down, his concern evident. Pregnancy in Soul Society was rare, and hers—carrying triplets—was especially dangerous. She needed rest.
"Hn," he agreed, his voice softer than usual.
Without hesitation, the children padded over to the bed. The boy nestled against his mother, small arms wrapping around her as if to protect her, while the girl clambered into her father's embrace, her tiny fingers gripping his sleeve.
Byakuya let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He adjusted the blankets around them, his hand absently stroking his daughter's soft hair.
Soon, the quiet breaths of his wife and children filled the room, lulling him into a rare moment of peace.
Lying there, surrounded by the warmth of his family, Byakuya felt something lighten within him.
The nightmare, the regrets, the pain of the past—they would always linger. But this? This was real.
He had made the right choice.
He had chosen Rukia.
And for that, he was endlessly grateful.