Work Text:
Mid-Late February, 2003
Kūkaku adjusted the sarashi beneath the layers of her kimono. The unending sigh within her went unreleased, and she settled for a mere roll of her eyes. As she finished, she did her best to shift her hips while smoothing her hands along her sides to stop her fundoshi from riding up. She kept her movements subtle so as to not draw attention.
Of course, none of this would have been a problem if she'd only worn the nagajuban, but like hell was she attending a party of hoity-toity types with nothing on under it. Why did formal wear have to be such a literal pain in the ass?
Byakuya stood in such a way as to shield her from idle observation while giving every indication of being unaware of what she might be doing.
"Remind me why we're here again?" she grumbled.
"You know why." They were obliged to mingle given their status and the nature of their ruse. Pretending to be courting wouldn't work if they didn't look the part.
"I meant here, why are we here?" She cast a distasteful look around the spacious room they occupied within the Ōmaeda clan's compound. It was the most ostentatious place she'd ever seen—their love of gold-leaf seemed to know no bounds.
He pursed his lips at that before saying, "Cultivating relationships." After a certain point wealth became somewhat immaterial, and the Kuchiki had long ago passed it. They could buy whatever there was to be had, but—rather irritatingly—there were sometimes things which couldn't be purchased. That necessitated other avenues of approach, and socializing was often the prerequisite to journeying down them.
Kūkaku brought her left arm across her chest to grasp her right bicep, considering something in the distance.
Byakuya caught the motion out of the corner of an eye and studied her. He'd deduced it was an irritable tic she had—one that had persisted despite somehow regaining her right arm. Not for the first time, he pondered that matter, before discarding it. It was difficult to imagine a better way of incurring her wrath than sticking his nose in her affairs without her blessing.
She inhaled and straightened up, noticing his attention and matching it.
His eyes met hers. It was clear she was trying her best. Something that might've almost been called the world's smallest smile crossed his face. After a second he scanned the crowd, homing in on a familiar reiatsu. "Do you know who she is?"
Kūkaku looked momentarily perplexed before she followed his gaze to a rather bored-looking woman with two braids dressed in an austere kimono.
She raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that Yoruichi's protégé?" They'd only met a few times but she'd certainly heard a lot about her.
"Suì-Fēng," Byakuya confirmed. She was likely there both on behalf of the Fēng and because her fukutaichō had probably begged her to attend.
He turned his head fully. "Perhaps the two of you might have a fruitful discussion on methods of correcting undesirable behavior in subordinates." With that, he drifted away.
Kūkaku peered at his receding back suspiciously before looking back toward Suì-Fēng. It didn't take a stroke of genius to figure out he had pardoned her from whatever interminable business it was he had to attend to. After some consideration, she meandered in the other woman's direction.
"Can Yoruichi-sama really only handle so little alcohol?" Suì-Fēng had both brows up in disbelief and her nose and cheeks were flushed.
Kūkaku cracked a small grin and chuckled as she swirled her sake cup—it seemed apparent the protégé couldn't do all that much better. She downed what was left of her drink in a single gulp. "Just go ask around West Rukongai District 5 if you don't believe me."
The Shinigami seemed to consider it and was about to follow up when a woman's voice broke into their conversation: "Excuse me, would you happen to be Shiba Kūkaku?"
Suì-Fēng was quicker on the draw, irritably demanding "Who the hell are you?" before she'd even managed to turn around from the bar.
"Ah, my apologies, Suì-Fēng-taichō, I didn't know that I was interrupting!"
Suì-Fēng blinked and scowled as she realized exactly who was addressing them, holding her tongue.
Kūkaku was slower to turn and looked the woman over curiously. Something about her was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. She was elegantly dressed, supremely so, and her auburn hair was in a pulled-back hime cut that framed piercing green eyes. Could she have been from one of the other two great noble houses? "Yeah, I'm Shiba Kūkaku. What is it?"
The woman smiled unnervingly. "Sorry to bother you over something so minor—I just wanted to get a good look at the Kuchiki's newest pet in person." The sweetness of her tone only accentuated the ice that lay underneath it.
Kūkaku's expression rapidly chilled as one of her fists clenched. "What did you just say?"
"Oh, perhaps I wasn't clear. I said—" She stopped mid-sentence as her subtly cruel expression transformed into one of open shock.
Kūkaku's eyes widened at the change.
"How careless of me to spill so much heated sake—it will be quite difficult to get out of that windflower light silk," Byakuya said from behind the woman. There wasn't a single note of apology in his voice.
The woman's face became a calm mask of rage as she turned to face him.
Kūkaku stared as she saw the entire back of the woman's kimono was soaked. Speechless, her focus shifted to Byakuya.
He was already coldly regarding the woman. "I will see that you are properly redressed for this unfortunate happenstance," he said smoothly, every syllable dripping with the subtlest venom.
"See that you do," she hissed back, storming out of the suddenly silent party.
His eyes tracked her before scanning about and then finding Kūkaku. "Perhaps we should retire for the evening."
Suì-Fēng blinked before raising an eyebrow. "Did you really just—"
Kūkaku stood and offered her a brisk smile. "Thank you for your hospitality, Suì-Fēng-taichō." She let Byakuya escort her out of the room as the murmur of the crowd resumed.
Neither said a word to the other during their walk to their norimono, nor during the ride back to the Kuchiki manor.
It was only after they'd gotten out of the litter that she ventured, "Do I even want to know who that was?"
"Perhaps later."
She turned and critically assessed him. "Whatever happened to ‘cultivating relationships?'" The Kuchiki Byakuya she'd come to know didn't splash nobles with liquor.
Byakuya held her gaze steadily for awhile. "Not all relationships are friendly." He turned at that to acknowledge the arrival of Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko with her palanquin. "It would be best if you lingered awhile before departing, but I will take no more of your time." He made to leave.
A smirk cracked Kūkaku's still expression and her lids came down slightly. A long time prior she'd heard that he had quite the temper, but she never would've guessed those embers still smoldered. "So, when can I see you again?"
He stopped for a second before scoffing and continuing on. They both knew she'd be back the next day.
She smiled. That wasn't what she'd meant.