Chapter Text
Observing Byakuya Kuchiki was interesting for you.
Save for having deeply rooted feelings of affection for him, you genuinely think he was a fascinating soul.
He was such a mysterious character. Rarely did his emotions seep through his icy exterior, yet it meant that the faintest act from him would always mean something. It was easier to read him when he was angry, annoyed, or displeased, though you prefer to avoid doing things that could cause those feelings for him. After all, it might come back to you tenfold.
What got you curious about him as of the present was the book he was reading—100 Ways to Become Closer to Your Daughter. His focus on it was unparalleled that he overlooked your unspoken narrative of him when he would usually do.
Simply put, he was troubled. It didn’t look like it, but he was.
“Byakuya, is something wrong?” You asked, bringing forward a freshly brewed Hibiscus tea.
He was seated in your office, taking his time to go through each page of the book. You surmised he avoided letting Renji know of his troubles with forging a father-daughter relationship. His lieutenant was quite the master of it.
When he gave no response, you sighed. Sliding a finger in between the pages he was reading, you pulled the book a few centimeters down so he could see your face. “My dear husband, there is something wrong. You never ignore me.”
He turned to you, apologetic. “I was sidetracked. I apologize.”
“Now, tell me,” you took a seat by his side, “what’s troubling you?”
Byakuya paused, looking quite conflicted to put it into words. He first took a sip of the tea you prepared for him before answering, “It’s about our daughter. She’s already eight years of age yet I… I’m at a loss on how to talk to her.”
You mentally high-fived yourself for being right. All the time.
He would never be this honest if it were other people who would ask him.
Eight years ago, you were blessed with twin souls—a boy and a girl. Contrary to expectations, your son took after your personality despite being a carbon copy of Byakuya’s younger self while your daughter was an equal mix of the two of you in appearances, yet carried much of Byakuya’s personality.
They were too alike that they converse all so rarely.
Chances were, their daughter was having the same problem as he did albeit in silence.
“Ah, no wonder. Did Rukia give you that book?”
He nodded, eyes settling on the book. You doubt that would give him proper instructions on how to be a good father. It didn’t explicitly say it was for esteemed noble houses.
“How about you set aside your role as the clan’s patriarch?” you suggested, causing him to look at you confusingly. “I mean to say, how about you just spend time with them? Do the things they like to do with you. Have fun and get to know them more.”
Serious as he pondered about it with a small frown, you grabbed the book from his grasp. “I’ll give you your personal time with them tomorrow. Isane-san and I wanted to try this new cell restoration spell from Orihime-san so I’m out for a whole day.”
Still, Byakuya looked conflicted.
“Are you aware they address us differently?”
You bit your lip, hiding the rising smile as you picked up his tone, “What do you ever mean, my dear husband?”
“They call me ‘Father’.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“They call you ‘Mama’.”
You were fighting for yourself not to laugh. Byakuya was actually sulking.
You never knew such a day would come. It was considered impossible.
“I don’t see anything wrong with that. They simply picked up on the term since I always use it to refer myself to them.” You shrugged, pleased about the revelation. “Going back, how about you ask them what they like? You know, make them feel validated to like some things they’re not required to as heirs.”
Byakuya considered your words seriously, eyebrows furrowed as he finished his cup of tea.
“Mama, where are you going?” Your son, Yūki, who was named after the winter snow, asked of you as you stood by the gates of the Kuchiki Manor.
“Ah, Mama will just learn a new healing technique to help more people,” you grinned at him, ruffling his hair from its neat ponytail. “Why? Do you miss me already?”
“I just tied that…” he grumbled. Though he took after you, he still had a side of his father as he avoided your question, a tint of red on his cheeks. He would always follow you in his free time from his training as the next head of the clan, showing how attached he was to you.
“Mama,” your daughter, Youko, who was named after the first ray of sunshine during their birth, called for you from the front porch, “have a safe trip.”
Your eyes fell on hers. It was so similar to your husband’s that you couldn’t help but smile. Byakuya would always bid you a safe trip, masking his real intention of hoping you would return soon—the same goes for your daughter.
“Have fun with your dad while I’m gone,” you waved at them as the gates closed on the three of them.
Little do they know, you were in your top spirits, genuinely looking forward to your husband’s stories by the time you got home.
Byakuya watched as you left the Manor in good spirits. He could read your mood all the way from his room.
His form remained as his eyes were on the two kids in front of him.
“Father,” Yūki turned to him with curious eyes, “what did mama mean by have fun? Are we excused from our lessons today?” he asked as if he knew the answer. It was obvious his son wanted a break from all the formalities required of him.
“Yes, the both of you are.” Byakuya nodded, giving them their freedom for today. He reminded himself multiple times that it was his turn to learn more about what his children liked. It was a new parenting method for him as you were always the one who would do it.
Maybe that was why they were closer to you.
Yūki stretched his arms, relieved to have the day to himself. “Thank you, Father.” Formal. He was still too formal for someone who got his personality after his wife. Nonetheless, he was more open to him than his sister as they were together most of the time to pass on the rules and responsibilities as the Kuchiki heir. “I shall go to Yoruichi-san and ask about her Shunpo technique.”
“I recall giving you the time to rest, Yūki.”
“You did, but I want to get stronger.” His son replied with an outspoken resolve. “I want to be as fast as Father—No, faster than Father. I remember Mama kept complaining about how unfair it was that you always used Shunpo against her. So, when the time comes, I’ll help Mama with her escape.”
Byakuya smirked, he was actually impressed by his admittance rather than his determination. He wondered if his son knew why you were running away in the first place.
He acknowledged it with a nod. “I shall look forward to that time if it will come. However—” he paused, passing on a gentle reminder, “—you are to be at home as the sun sets for supper. Your mother will be here as well.”
Yūki beamed at the news you would join them for dinner, “Yes, Father. I shall return soon.”
“And do not spend too much time with Yoruichi Shihouin. You would pick up unhealthy habits.” Byakuya vaguely recalled your odd terms and street slang—all too aware of where you got those words from.
Already used to his father’s steadfast coaching, he waved enthusiastically. “Of course, Father. I’ll be careful.” He turned to the young girl of the lot. “Youko, I’ll go buy some pastries for you on the way!” He bid farewell to his sister as well.
Youko might be similar to him, but she inherited your sweet tooth. “Have a safe trip, brother.” She waved softly, sighing a little as the two people she usually spent her time with were gone.
Byakuya looked at her form—significantly shorter than him as her height fell to his waist. “Youko,” he called her name.
“Yes, Father? Do you require of me?” She watched as he walked in the direction of their garden. Then he paused, seemingly waiting for her to catch up to him.
Picking up his signal, soon, her steps matched his—naturally in sync as they went for a stroll.
Byakuya questioned himself internally about how she managed to be this formal. She sounded like his men back in the Sixth Division save for Renji. “What will you do for today?”
“I shall return to my quarters and read the etiquette for the tea-making ceremony.”
Half-lidded eyes. Nonchalant as it seemed she had her duties for hobbies, Byakuya was worried.
His eyes narrowed a tad second, then returned to their usual stance. “I have given you the time to rest. Is there anything else that you want to do?”
Youko fell silent for a short minute. “Then… I shall read the principles as a noble lady for my coming-of-age ceremony.”
“You are merely eight. You have more than enough time to learn of it in the next ten years.” It was unusual. Byakuya felt like he was talking to himself.
Youko finally turned to her father, at a loss for words. “Then, what shall I do, Father?”
He folded his arms under his yukata. “Do you have any enjoyment you do in your free time?”
“I read.”
“Other than reading.”
“I… usually have Mama play with my hair,” Youko disclosed.
“Is that so?” Byakuya had thought about it, yet he couldn’t remember a time he saw Youko apart from her usual hairstyle. “How come I have yet to see it?”
“It’s because Mama would make a mistake while making a braid, then she would apologize to me and brush my hair back to normal.”
Byakuya had a hand over his mouth, covering his chuckle. He would have another thing in his enjoyment the next time you try to throw a jest at him. “I see.”
Silence fell over once more.
“What do you do while your mother tries to fix your hair?”
“I… read.”
You were right once more. His daughter was eerily a clone of him albeit if he were to choose a different path from being a shinigami. Formalities. Etiquette. Education.
He was not one for conversations, but talking to his daughter made him wonder if people faced the same difficulty when they conversed with him. It made him realize how easy it seemed for you to come up and talk to him with all the myriad of topics you had in mind. You were always the one who had something to say.
Suddenly, in a miraculous passing cherry blossom petal on his daughter’s head, he had an idea.
“Youko.”
“Yes, Father?”
Byakuya halted his steps, causing her to do the same. “Would you like to spend time with me? Unlike your mother, I know how to do a simple braid.”
His daughter blinked at him in surprise. It was rare that he initiated something with room for respect for her wishes.
“I will try not to tangle your hair.” Byakuya bargained, thinking that her hesitancy was related to your history of failed attempts.
Her lips curved into a small grateful smile, similar to how you would every time you would welcome him inside your office after a long day’s work. “If you would have me, Father.”
Nonetheless, she was still too formal.
Byakuya paid no mind to it as he made progress, no matter how small it seemed to be.
In order to keep his daughter from picking up a scroll for her reading, Byakuya opted to inquire more about her personal interests while his fingers interlocked her raven locks in a clean braid. His eyes, downcast to the ends of her softly brushed hair, were pleased that he faired a better job than he expected.
Nevertheless, he never expected he would actually attempt to stop his daughter from studying.
“How are you faring?” He asked as he picked up a hair tie from her collection.
“My studies are going well. Ginrei-sama complimented my manners when I welcomed Uncle Renji and Aunt Rukia the other day.”
His fingers twitched by the slightest. She even addressed the two casually in comparison to him. But the concern lay elsewhere.
“You do well in that regard, but I ask of your well-being.” Byakuya clarified, tying the ends of her braid in a finished look. Gently, as if he held a piece of feather within his fingertips, he let go.
“I…” she was at a loss for words. Byakuya figured it was either she was asked rarely or the question came from him. “I am faring well… Nii-san has been caring and invited me to the outer districts often. Sometimes, we would visit Mama at her work.”
Byakuya kept his silence. They have yet to visit him to his.
“We would also play with Ichika nee-san. She had been sparring against Nii-san. I do not know who’s winning. They always end up throwing their wooden swords and brawl on the ground.” The Kuchiki patriarch was in it for a headache. He should have a word with Renji about this. Discreetly. He did not wish for his daughter to be labeled a tattle-tale even if she was unaware she sold out her brother and cousin.
“That… seemed fun.” Byakuya borrowed your term, fun.
His daughter shifted her sitting position to face him, checking her braids with curious and appreciative eyes. “Father, thank you for this. Mama was right, you do great in everything you do.”
Byakuya merely stared back. Why did it feel like he was getting complimented by his superior? Shunsui Kyoraku was more laid back than his daughter.
“Father?”
He cleared his throat. “You really do look like your mother.” It wasn’t an excuse. She did look more like you than him, at least in his eyes, just with his flat personality.
You would probably complain that his personality was far from being flat with that teasing grin of yours.
“I consider that a compliment, Father. It is an honor. Thank you, once more.”
Byakuya, in his regal and absolute principles of etiquette, actually sighed. It might take him a while, but progress is progress. “You need not be so formal. I would do it for you no matter how many times you ask me to.”
He got up from the tatami mat, offering a hand for his daughter. “Would you like to join me for a walk? The cherry blossom trees are in full bloom.”
Youko, whose gaze was on his outstretched hand, smiled softly in appreciation of her father’s sincerity and show of affection. He was different from you. You were straightforward and open. He would show it through his subtle acts of care. He would not say it outright, but he would make you feel it. Youko knew of it because she was just like him.
Her hand met his in a tender grasp.
“I would love to, Father.”
You returned to your home with a sight outside expectations.
Byakuya was seated on the garden patio with the two children, arms crossed as he caught your presence on the side. There were various pastries laid out on the table with glasses of beverage for its occupants. The kids had fruit juice while Byakuya had tea. He would usually watch the cherry blossoms with a fine serving of sake. You were thankful he set that aside for now with the kids in the picture.
“Mama, welcome home.” Yūki greeted, making sure he swallowed the treat first before speaking.
You tersely met Byakuya’s line of sight, mouth curving upwards in understanding that everything went well as far as the mood went. “I am home, my darlings.” You bent one knee to the wooden floor, arms outstretched to welcome the kids with an earnest hug.
Yūki went in first, telling you about a new flavor he discovered in your favorite bakery.
Youko went next, and though she greeted you with her usual pleasantries, she gave a different vibe. You noticed her hair was tied in a neat braid, making you wonder where she got it from.
Sensing your bewilderment, Youko tugged your sleeve. “Father tied it for me. He said he would do it next time too.”
“Oh… did he really now?” You had a toothy smile, pleased that they were able to bond over the short time you were gone. “You’ve always been pretty, but you’re extra pretty today, Youko.” Gently patting her head, you made your way to Byakuya.
“No welcome greeting for me?” You tilted your head amusingly.
“You had enough welcoming from the kids.” He sipped his tea, eyes closed as he relished the taste of sakura blossom tea. When you plopped next to him for your own serving of tea and snacks, he bent slightly, voice low and hushed against your ear. “But if you insist, I would contentedly welcome you to our quarters after this.”
You bit down your bread harder than you intended, giving him a short glare much to his entertainment. It was fortunate the two children were too busy in their merry-making to hear it.
Ignoring his statement, you moved forward to the cheerful pair in front of you. “Tell me, how was your day? Did you have fun?”
“I spent time with Father.” Youko started, eyes on her hands as her fingers fiddled with the hem of her yukata. “He had given me many life lessons today. I shall hold those dearly to my heart.”
You glanced at Byakuya, who was deliberately avoiding your eyes. It had been merely a day, yes, and he did move forward with his relationship with your daughter. You just wished she lay it easy on herself. “I see. That’s great, my love.”
“I have also shared with Father how we usually spent our time together, Mama.”
You stilled. Smile rigid.
“O-oh is that so?” Now, you were the one avoiding your husband’s gaze on you. Coughing out the rising nervousness, you promised, “Mama will do better from now on.”
Youko nodded a tad eagerly. “Of course, Mama. Father said he would be more than willing to join us as you play with my hair.” You were internally digging your own grave. You were keeping reasons for your husband to tease you about. Presently, he had one added to his arsenal.
“I went to Yoruichi-san,” Yūki mentioned. The hair from his ponytail swished lightly as a petal fell into his head. “She rarely comes by to Seireitei so I took my chances. We played tag all day long.”
Byakuya pursed his lips, recalling his numerous defeats in the same game of tag he had with her all those years ago.
“Hoo, are you learning Shunpo from her?” You asked, taking another bite of the custard-filled treat. Your other hand went on top of his hair, brushing the petal off.
Yūki scratched the back of his neck. “I… I’m ways away from my goal. I had yet to win in all of our games.”
To be honest, it was expected. You and Byakuya would be surprised if he did win. Yoruichi wasn’t the type to hold back on kids.
“She did tell me something about Mama after a few losses,” Yūki added, a smile settling back on his lips.
“And what would that be?” Byakuya inquired, interested.
You had a bad feeling about this.
“Back when Mama was still starting in her office, Yoruichi-san told me she saw Mama running out of breath after her rounds in Rukongai.”
You froze.
“Mama looked really nervous and asked her what was happening to her. Yoruichi-san was really confused because Mama kept holding her chest like this—” Yūki tried to demonstrate it, and it brought forth memories you had kept deep inside your mind throughout the years. “—then Yoruichi-san realized Mama was in love—”
“Alriiiiiight! Let’s stop there.” You shot a hand up, causing your son to blink at it confusingly. “I have to excuse myself as I have to change into my robes. Yūki—,” you smiled softly at your son, “kindly forget what Yoruichi-san told you.”
Yūki, who was at a loss if he did wrong, nodded a tad hesitantly.
“You did nothing wrong. If there is an error here, it’s Yoruichi-san and her mouth. Now, I shall go.” You beamed at him, ruffling his hair as you were absolutely evading Byakuya’s eyes that bore holes behind your skull. “Byakuya, do not follow me.”
Thereafter, you ran towards your dressing room, footsteps disappearing in the hallway. Byakuya merely watched you go, following your form as it got smaller and smaller from his sight. He turned to his son, “Did Yoruichi Shihouin mention how old was your mother in this memory?”
“Ah, she was fairly young. I think around twenty years after she became fully independent from grandfather.”
Byakuya put his emptied cup on the table, getting up from the company of his children. You truthfully told him in the early stages of your relationship that he was the only one you fancied, but you didn’t specify how long you actually harbored these emotions for him.
“I shall check on your mother. It seems she needed help with her endeavors.” Changing garments, that is.
He gave a small smile to the view of his kids. They were his treasures given by you, and he couldn’t have them in any other way.
“Tell the attendants we shall have dinner in about two hours. Your mother might take some time.”
With that, he disappeared from their sight. The children looked at each other in bewilderment, faintly hearing a string of complaints that sounded like yours from the hallways, followed by a door shutting close.